5.04 – Mediator I

Jordan watched as Natalie's two-handed warhammer crashed into a tower shield easily as tall as herself. The oversized block of stone met reinforced metal shield with a clang reminiscent of a blacksmith's anvil. Despite having braced for the blow, the heavily armored tank—a boy with dirty blond hair, whose name Jordan didn't know—staggered back, his guard broken.

Though the vicious impact had rattled Natalie too, her follow-up was swift: a second, then third, then fourth wind-up blow hammered into the tower shield, entirely forgoing subtlety and technique. She chose instead to bash her way through with pure determination. It was very Natalie.

Her sparring partner was, unfortunately, no match for her: the fight was a foregone conclusion. That was how it went sometimes. The difference in strength between the low and high ends of talent, even within the same year, could be insurmountable. And the gap would only grow more pronounced as time passed, as they moved into their sophomore, junior, and senior years. If Jordan had to guess, this boy hadn't even reached level two yet. So against Natalie? It simply wasn't a fair fight.

"She really is a monster with that thing," she said idly, wincing as another ridiculous clang cut through the air. It pierced even the din of the dozens of other active fights throughout the training yard. "If … a bit noisy."

"A bit?" Sofia asked dryly. She watched the display, arms crossed as piercing blue eyes scrutinized the two fighters. There was a distasteful curl to her lips, and Jordan guessed why even before Sofia voiced the sentiment. "She's being a brute. It's disrespectful. To herself and her opponent. She can do better."

The events earlier that morning, in the bedroom, had gone forgotten. Or, ignored. Sofia was her usual self, if somewhat fidgety, especially when their eyes met. Jordan admitted she had gotten carried away. To be fair, she'd been more than a little compromised, with Natalie taking her from behind and a blushing Sofia squirming underneath her. In that kind of scenario, of course her better senses had vanished.

Still, considering what she had said—and the kiss they'd shared—she knew they needed to talk about it. She'd been meaning to chat with Sofia for a while now. About a whole bunch of things. Though, Natalie at the forefront.

"Well, it's working," Jordan said. "That's all that matters, in the end."

Sofia grunted her disagreement. "Every fight should be taken seriously. Even easy ones. She's not giving it her best."

Jordan half agreed with the perspective. But she didn't think Natalie wasn't taking the fight seriously, exactly. More like, she was seeing just how much she could accomplish with pure brute strength. Testing her limits.

Though, admittedly, having an inappropriate amount of fun while doing so. She was wearing that wild grin of hers as she spun around with her towering warhammer. Jordan had always found that look equal parts endearing and worrying. Natalie could get carried away way too easily. Jordan had seen it more than once in their youth. She might be the only reason Natalie hadn't gotten herself killed in their reckless early years.

"She's definitely getting better, though," Sofia said. "Her footwork is cleaner. Giving less openings. Better integration of her illusions, too." She wrinkled her nose. "In her earlier fights, at least. This one is a regression."

Sofia had always been more willing to acknowledge Natalie's skill than the other way around. There was a definite begrudgingness to the compliment, though. Sofia handled her competitive streak with much more maturity, but it was definitely still there.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jordan watched Sofia more than she did the fight. The woman's attention bored into Natalie with an intensity that was rather telling—and would probably embarrass Sofia if she realized what she was doing.

Jordan wasn't completely certain what Sofia and Natalie's relationship was. Obviously, she could tell the two women were secretly feral for each other, but were they romantically interested? Jordan was actually somewhat undecided.

That they wanted to fuck was a given. But hate-fuck only, or something more? If Jordan could dig past the hundreds of layers of denial, did they want to date each other? Be girlfriends? While those two girls going on a romantic date conjured hilarious imagery, Jordan thought they might actually want to, if they could work past their ridiculous hang-ups.

At a minimum, they needed to get it out of their system. Which was slowly happening, thanks to their silly bet. And the collar. And developments earlier that morning.

Their denial, added to their extreme competitiveness, made things tricky. She thought of Natalie's unceremonious collaring of Sofia. Natalie hadn't given the girl much chance to protest—she had clipped the collar and leash on without remotely giving the event the discussion it deserved. Not that a discussion between Sofia and Natalie would ever be productive, considering the two idiots, but Jordan was mildly concerned about the direction their relationship was heading. Both the speed and the lack of communication. It seemed like a train wreck waiting to happen.

Jordan was guilty of adding fuel to that fire, too, with everything she'd said that morning.

Sofia glanced over, catching her staring. She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, stop biting your lip and just ask," Sofia said. "You clearly have something to say."

It was as good a segue as any. It was Jordan's duty, as Natalie's friend—and Sofia's friend—to smooth things over in whatever way she could.

Plus, Sofia wasn't as likely to be obstinate when trying to have an honest discussion as Natalie would. Though 'as obstinate as Natalie' was a low bar to clear. It still wouldn't be easy.

A part of Jordan wondered whether she was even qualified to be a mediator in their relationship. Considering her own mess of tangled emotions when it came to Natalie, she didn't have too much of a leg to stand on.

But someone had to. And it sure as hell wouldn't be either of them.

"So," Jordan started casually. "How are things going with you and Nat?"

Sofia stiffened, though imperceptibly, as if she'd been ready for the question and had tried to stop herself from reacting—but couldn't, not entirely. She turned back forward. "That's what you're stewing over?"

"Just asking as a friend. I know Nat can be a handful. Maybe we can talk about it? Honestly, we're in kind of the same situation."

"Us?" Sofia asked. "You think we're in the same situation? Natalie actually likes you, if you haven't noticed."

The response caught Jordan off guard. Both what she'd said, and how she'd said it. The almost resignation hidden behind the sarcasm. Sofia didn't believe that, did she? That Natalie didn't like her?

Well. It was admittedly a bit of a mess. But while Natalie might swear up and down that Sofia was the devil, Jordan was confident she didn't actually dislike her.

Or—it was a hot-and-cold thing.

Clearly, Jordan did need to have this talk. Except, she wasn't exactly sure how to handle it. How did she go about reassuring her?

"Sofia," Jordan said slowly, picking her words carefully. "There's not a person on the planet who gets Natalie going like you do." Yes, she phrased it that way on purpose. "Don't be stupid. Of course Natalie likes you. I don't care what she says. You know her. She's an idiot." She raised a finger to interrupt Sofia's response. "At a very minimum, you're special to her. In a way no one else is."

Sofia huffed and faced away. It was clear she was trying to brush the claims off. But the panic the statements created was clear as day. Jordan was equally amused and concerned by the reaction.

She considered pressing harder. Making sure Sofia knew that, whatever was going on with Natalie, she was important to her. But her goal with this conversation wasn't to try to bash through Sofia's denial—like she had tried that morning, if in a sexual context instead of a romantic one. Because Jordan doubted it would end well. Certainly, Jordan was confident that it wouldn't end well with Natalie herself, hence why Jordan still hadn't confronted the woman with her own gigantic crush. And Sofia and Natalie were far more alike than their surface-level behaviors would suggest; being too blunt could be disastrous with either.

So, instead of trying to fix everything all at once, Jordan had a simpler goal: she simply wanted to make sure the two girls weren't on a collision course.

Jordan waved her hand dismissively. "Well, like I said, I do know she can be a handful. And there's some stuff we should talk about." She gave Sofia a significant look. "You know. Especially with …" Jordan pointed at her own neck, indicating the collar, which she knew Sofia had hidden under her uniform. "And your bet with her, too. How it's going. How you feel about it. I know she won't ask, so I have to. Because you're my friend."

Sofia flushed and looked forward. "There's nothing to say. It's between me and her."

So. She was choosing to be stubborn about it. Jordan couldn't say she was surprised. And she had a point: it wasn't Jordan's business. But Natalie and Sofia weren't going to talk it out themselves, it was better to stick her nose where it technically didn't belong than to let the two idiots crash and burn.

Seeing how conventional mature discussion had no chance of succeeding here, Jordan would have to employ unconventional techniques.

Step one of a successful surprise engagement was this: catch your opponent off guard. Once she had an opening, she would have room to work with. She'd sneak in emotionally considerate discussions under the guise of teasing.

So, she went on the offensive.

"I said it this morning," Jordan said seriously, "and I'll say it again, Sofia. There's nothing wrong with wanting to be Natalie's sex pet." She squeezed Sofia's elbow encouragingly. "If we work as a team, I'm sure we can figure out how to get her cock inside you."