Chapter Four: Lefty

Flynn lay on Yuri's bed, absently fiddling with his empty sleeve. He lay on his left side, because his right shoulder ached. Yuri said he'd fallen on it last night, which sounded vaguely familiar. Thinking about how drunk he'd been made his face burn, but really, what did his reputation matter anymore? He didn't have a uniform to uphold. He was just Flynn, a disabled nobody living on a veteran's pension because he wasn't qualified for any other kind of job and nobody would want a cripple for unskilled labour.

At least his hangover was gone. That was something, at least. He'd woken up highly confused about why he was in Yuri's bed and feeling like he'd been run over by a cart. Yuri helpfully kept the curtains closed, brought him water, and kept his sarcastic commentary to a minimum.

He now lay in bed, not sure what to do. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had so few responsibilities. Even in the infirmary he didn't feel like he had free time because healing had been a full-time job, and after getting out there was paperwork to complete, loose ends to wrap up, and the ceremony to prepare for. Now he was really, truly retired and for the first time in years he had nowhere to be and nothing he needed to do.

Yuri had gone out about an hour ago, just as his hangover cleared up. Flynn considered walking back to the castle, but he was so comfortable here and sore all over. A couple of apple gels this morning had dealt with his injuries from the bar fight, but all the activity had strained his still-healing burns and tender stump, and that wasn't counting the weird ache that hovered in the space where his elbow ought to be. He couldn't explain that one, but hurting somewhere he didn't even have a body was bullshit.

Suddenly Yuri was in front of him and he jolted, letting the sleeve drop. "Oh! Hi."

Yuri said something, but since his left ear was pressed against the pillow all he made out was muffled murmuring. He rolled over and pushed himself up. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"What, you didn't notice me walk through the door?"

Flynn glanced to the door with a scowl. "I was sort of zoned out, and couldn't hear it."

"Whatever." He tossed something familiar on the bed. "Here, I went to the castle and got this for you."

Flynn stared at his sword in confusion. "What's this for?"

"Get up. We're going to spare."

His fingers clenched around the blanket and he looked away from the sword. "You know I can't."

"Sure you can."

His face snapped to Yuri and he grabbed his sleeve, shaking the empty tube at him. "With what hand?"

"Your left, of course."

"I'm not left handed."

"You are now."

He let the sleeve drop and tried to keep from getting irritated. He knew Yuri was trying to help in his own way, but Yuri's way was frustratingly insensitive to the reality that he'd lost his arm and this was actually kind of a major deal. "Not everyone is like you, Yuri. Most people can't just toss their sword from one hand to the other and fight just as well. My left hand doesn't work the same as my right does… did. I can't even write my damn name!"

"Yeah, but it's the only hand you've got, so it's time to stop feeling sorry for yourself and figure out how to use it."

Anger flashed as he jumped to his feet. "Feeling sorry for myself? I lost everything, Yuri."

"You lost your job, your arm, and your ear. That's three things; hardly everything."

"I think those are fairly notable things, though."

"So, what? You're just going to roll over and give up? Is that all our dreams meant to you – you'd work toward them as long as it was easy, but as soon as you have a major setback you'd give up?"

Anger still burned, but it wasn't directed solely at Yuri anymore. It was anger at this whole situation and Yuri had the misfortune of being an easy target. "No," he muttered. "Of course not. I still want to achieve our goal, but… how can I? It was my job to change the Knighthood from within, but I got kicked out. How can I fight to make people smile when I can't even fight?"

Yuri picked up Flynn's sword and held it out. "You didn't know how to fight when we made that promise, either. We were just dumb kids fooling around with sticks. It took you years of training to become the amazing swordsman you are now, and if you did it once to get your right hand into gear, you can do the same for your left."

Flynn hesitated. "My right hand is naturally dominant. I can't expect my left to learn at the same pace I once did."

"Yeah, but your brain already knows how to fight. It's just a matter of getting that muscle memory in your left arm and mirroring every action to work from the opposite hand."

Flynn had a feeling it was going to be a lot more difficult than Yuri made it sound, but maybe he was right. He had one good arm; he ought to get up and use it. His hand closed around the hilt, gripping tightly. It felt weird to hold a sword in his left hand, but good to hold one at all.

Yuri grinned. "That's the spirit. Come on, I'll give you lefty lessons."

They made their way to the empty lot they used to spar in as kids. It had nothing on the state-of-the-art training grounds he used at the castle, but it felt right to come back here when he was going back to the beginning. They didn't have perfectly even ground or training dummies or practice mats, but they had each other and that had been enough when they were kids.

"Fighting with your left hand is just like fighting with your right," Yuri explained when they got there. "You just have to mirror the steps. See, if you'd usually guard like this…" He held his sword in his right hand and went into a basic stance.

It was weird to see Yuri hold a formal guard, because he'd branched off from traditional techniques years ago. His fighting was erratic and fluid, mixing together various traditions with a little of his own flare. Sometimes Flynn forgot that they'd started learning the same way, so any novice steps Flynn knew, Yuri was an expert in as well. This, along with the fact that he was equally proficient with both hands, made him the perfect teacher.

"But when you hold your sword in your left hand, it's reversed. See, my feet are all backward here. If you'd usually lead with your right foot, you have to lead with your left."

Flynn watched Yuri's feet carefully and then mimicked the action. It was a rudimentary guard he'd perfected almost a decade ago, but the stance had become second nature to him over the years and flipping it around so he led with his left foot felt foreign. "This is weird. I feel off-balance."

"That's probably also because you're used to holding a shield in your opposite hand."

Flynn glanced to his stump with a frown. "True."

"Is there any way you can? Your fighting style is adapted for use with a shield. I mean, I can train you to fight like me, but I think you'd rather stick to what you're used to."

"What do you think I'm going to hold a shield with?" He switched into the next traditional stance, his feet fumbling to reverse. The problem with becoming such a good swordsman that he could perfectly conform to any position was that changing things up became almost impossible. His legs knew exactly where they needed to be, and didn't want to listen when he told them they had to do this backward.

"I was thinking about Barbos. He lost part of his arm, too, right? And he had it replaced by a spiky thing. You're still leaning to the right."

"Damn." Flynn corrected his posture. "You want me to put a spinning ball of spikes at the end of my stump? I think I'd hurt myself before anyone else."

"Not exactly that, no. But maybe you can get something else? Hook hands and peg legs are a thing. I'm sure you can find something."

"Hook hands only work if you still have an elbow. Without being able to bend it, any kind of arm would just be cumbersome. Is there even a point to this stance? Usually it's a good defence because it gives you a lot of freedom with your shield, but if I don't have one I feel quite open."

"I never bother with it. You're right; it's meant for shields. I'll ask around Dahngrest about who built Barbos' hand. Maybe they'll know a solution."

And so lessons went. They didn't even end up sparring the first day, because the entire afternoon was spent drilling and attempting to switch his brain around to do things from his left. Flynn knew Yuri must be bored silly just standing around playing coach, but he never complained. Flynn hadn't drilled this extensively since he was a teenager, and by the time Yuri called it a wrap around sundown he was sweating and exhausted.

"I think you did pretty well today."

Flynn sheathed his sword and wiped sweat from his brow. "I can't get used to this."

"You giving up already?"

"No," he immediately said. "I misspoke. I meant that getting used to this is going to be very difficult, but I'll manage."

Yuri clapped him on the shoulder as they started back to the inn. "That's the spirit."

"Ow," he rested his hand gingerly over his shoulder.

Yuri pulled his hand away, looking guilty. "Sorry."

"It's fine. It's still sore, that's all." Considering until recently the entire shoulder had been covered in burns, he thought a lingering ache that stung like a sunburn was a fair compromise. "Lady Estellise says the burns will stop hurting within a week. But, there's nothing she can do about the scars."

"Are you still upset about that?"

"What do you mean, 'still'?"

"Last night, you cried about being ugly and how no one would ever love you."

Flynn's cheeks warmed. "Did I?"

"I told you that you were being dumb."

"Yes. I'm sorry, I'm not a very eloquent drunk."

"No one is. But, like I said last night, anyone who would give you grief about your scars isn't worth your time anyway."

"It feels rather petty to be concerned with aesthetic problems in light of everything else." He wasn't really that torn up about the scarring, but it was one more injustice on top of everything else.

"Yeah, it is."

Flynn turned his head with a scowl. "Thanks."

"Maybe it will be good for you. Everyone in the empire thinks you're hot stuff, so a blow to your insurmountable handsomeness might be good for your ego." Yuri thought for a moment and added, "Ironic that it would be caused by you literally becoming hot-"

"If you're about to make a pun about me being on fire, let me remind you that normal people consider it impolite to tease your friend about being in devastating agony and suffering disability."

The was a long silence where the conclusion of Yuri's comment was painfully clear. They reached the inn before he could say anything else. "You hungry? I'm starving. I'll cook some dinner."

Usually Flynn would nod and then go upstairs to wait for Yuri to finish cooking, because Yuri never appreciated his help in the kitchen. Today, though, he wanted to do something more. "I am. Could you use some help cooking?"

Yuri hesitated, instinct telling him to deny Flynn and not let him anywhere near the food. The unexpectedness of Flynn's request surprised him enough to consider it, and Yuri's eyes drifted between Flynn's stump and his stubborn eyes.

"Yeah." Yuri grinned. "I could use an extra hand. You'll be a great help."

Flynn wasn't a great help, but he did what he could. He stirred a pot when asked and sprinkled salt on the meat, which was really not much more unhelpful than he usually was in a kitchen. When they were done cooking, Yuri plated everything and carried it out to the inn's dining area.

"Smells good. You didn't even manage to mess up the seasoning."

"I'm not completely incompetent with food."

Yuri gave him a look.

Flynn frowned, and picked up his fork. He hesitated as he stared at his steak. "Uh… actually, Yuri, if it's not too much trouble, could you… cut it for me?"

"Oh, yeah, of course." Yuri pulled his plate over and sliced the steak into bite-sized pieces.

Flynn silently fumed, frustrated that he couldn't do this himself. He was lucky to have a friend like Yuri.

Over dinner, they talked about anything. Most of Flynn's conversation the past week had been dominated by his disability, so it was nice to just chat like the old days. He almost felt normal again, even if he did have to eat pre-cut chunks of meat and kept turning his head and saying "Pardon?" every time he struggled to hear Yuri over the background din of other patrons.

When that background din suddenly died off, Yuri and Flynn both looked over in curiosity. Flynn jumped to his fight the moment he saw who'd arrived. "Your Majesty! Do you need something?"

"Sorry to interrupt," Ioder said while the rest of the inn watched him with uncertain eyes. Flynn spotted a pair of knights by the door, no doubt here as bodyguards. "Estellise told me I could probably find you here."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing is wrong. I wanted to talk to you. I have a proposition for you."

Flynn looked to Yuri apologetically. As much as he enjoyed having dinner with him, the emperor wanted to speak with him and that had to take priority.

Yuri waved his hand. "Go on, I'll meet you in my room later."

"Sorry." He followed Ioder out the building.

When Flynn told Yuri what Ioder had said, he gaped at him. "What?"

"I thought I was the deaf one?"

"I heard what you said, but… what? Can he even do that?"

Flynn sat on the side of the bed with a shrug. "He's the emperor. He can do what he wants, especially now that there are hardly any Council members left to oppose him."

Yuri leaned against his dresser, arms crossed. "Yeah, but… joining the Council yourself? I thought only nobles could be on the Council."

"Traditionally, yes. However, we've been attempting to reform the government for a while now. The massacre of the Council was a tragedy, but it does give us an opportunity to start over. I was already close to being an honorary noble with my position as commandant, so appointing me to the Council would raise the least amount of fuss while establishing a precedent that commoners could join."

"I see the reasoning, but I can't imagine you on the Council."

"I never thought of myself as a Councilman either, but… I don't have many options now." He fidgeted with his loose sleeve. "I always thought I would bring justice to the empire through the Knights, but that option was taken away from me. I count myself unbelievably lucky that His Majesty would offer me this position so that I still have a way to influence the direction of the empire, as a politician this time rather than a soldier."

Yuri nodded slowly. "Yeah, that makes sense." He frowned and scuffed his foot. "I guess I just don't like the idea of you being in the Council. It's a good idea, though."

"I'm going to keep working to make the empire a better place. I can't do it as a knight anymore, but I'm confident my replacement will keep the Knighthood in a positive direction. Meanwhile, I'll shift my focus to reforming the Council."

If he used this as a chance to address that corruption and fix the Council from within, then at least something good would have come from the attack. The meaninglessness of losing his arm because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time made anger burn hotter than his burns, but if he thought of it as something that gave him a chance to fix the Council and not just the Knights, he could live with it.

Yuri shrugged. "Seems like a good idea to me. I admit, I kinda hoped you might come to Dahngrest with me. It'd be nice to hang out with you more than once every few months."

Flynn smiled apologetically. "Sorry. My place is still in the empire, and yours with the guilds. That, at least, hasn't changed." Everything else in his life was changing, so a little stability was nice.

"Alright. It's good that you have a purpose in life again. Really, I'm happy for you. I'll stay in Zaphias for a little longer and help you train."

Even if Flynn wasn't going to be a soldier any longer, knowing he could wield a sword in a pinch would be a huge boost to his confidence. "I'm going to need some help for a little while. I can't fight, I can't write, I can't cook, I can't get dressed… but I'll learn."

"I can stay as long as you need. We don't have any missions lined up in Dahngrest."

"Thank you, Yuri. Really, throughout this whole situation, you've been so wonderful. I couldn't have done it without you."

Yuri shrugged. "Yeah, you could have. You're tougher than you look. Once you're a decent lefty swordsman, I'll head back to Dahngrest. I'll do my thing in the guilds and you work on reforming the empire from within."

And little by little, things would go back to normal.

Flynn left the Council chamber with a headache. It had been five months since Yuri left and Flynn took up his new post full-time, but he still hadn't gotten used to it. Whenever he passed knights in the hallways he felt a pang of envy and going to work in a robe instead of armour left him feeling naked.

He blamed his headache entirely blamed on his ears. He could usually hear without much problem when just one person spoke, but when arguments broke out and angry voices began laying over each other, the sound bombarded him and he couldn't pick out any individual voices or which way they came from. Even now, in the crowd streaming out of the new Council chamber, the sound overwhelmed him.

A hand nudged his elbow and he jerked around in surprise. "Do you need – oh!" He'd been expecting another Councilmember, and was pleasantly surprised to find Yuri.

"Yo. Long time no see."

The rest of the crowd kept moving and Flynn stepped aside to talk to Yuri. "It's good to see you again."

"Want to head to your room? I dropped my stuff there already. Sodia let me in."

"Yes, ok. How's your guild working?"

"Everything's fine." They began walking through the halls. "We've been on loads of missions, but nothing major. Nothing I haven't told you about in letters already. How's everything here?"

"It's going well. I won't say I don't miss being the commandant sometimes, but being a politician isn't all bad either." He'd written a response to every letter, even if it took him twice as long as normal to compose them. He had an assistant who transcribed any important documents for him, but whenever he could he tried to write himself. He was never going to learn if he didn't practice, even if that did mean letters to Yuri were messy scribbles. But, he had hope. When he first started writing to Yuri, the letters looked like they'd been written by a five year old. Now, he'd progressed to the writing ability of a ten year old. Writing with his left hand was aggravating, but looking back at his earliest attempts and seeing how far he'd come gave him hope.

At Flynn's room, he opened the door and led Yuri in.

"I meant to ask, isn't this officially the commandant's suite?"

"Yes, but when Sodia was appointed as my successor she refused to take it. I'm planning to purchase a house in the public quarter eventually, but for now I'd like to stay in the castle. I don't like thinking of myself as a person who relies on servants, but I must admit they're helpful." He had never realized just how many daily tasks required two hands. Making his bed was a complicated affair every morning and he used his foot while folding laundry. He had difficulty managing in a kitchen with two hands, so having fully-prepared meals delivered significantly reduced his risk of catching on fire again.

"What's this?" A long wooden box sat on the couch next to Yuri's bag.

Yuri grinned. "Present for you. It's why I came to visit."

"A present? What for? I don't have anything for you."

Yuri waved his hand. "Don't worry about it. Open it."

Flynn pried the lid off and found himself looking at a metallic arm. He might have thought it was ordinary armour, but leather cords ran down its length and the end gave way to a mess of straps. "What is it for?"

"You wear it, of course. I commissioned it from the Soul Smiths. See if you can get it on yourself – they said they designed it with that in mind."

"You had an arm made for me?" He ran his fingers along the metal. How long had it been since he'd worn armour? He missed the cold metal, the smell of polish and leather, the way it creaked with shifts in his weight. "Let me get changed first."

"Need a hand?"

Flynn smiled. "Not anymore, thanks. I got this."

Five minutes later, he returned wearing casual clothes, he carried his shirt in his hand, since it would go on over the arm. He'd figured out how to do buttons one-handed and didn't bother with belts anymore. There were snaps on his boots to save him the trouble of laces and he'd had most of his shirts tailored to get rid of the useless flap of fabric on the right sleeve. He counted himself lucky that he was wealthy enough to afford these amenities.

"That's better," Yuri said when he returned. "You look like a fop in Council robes."

"Thanks, Yuri, you look good, too." He could feel Yuri's eyes dart across the rough, mottled skin across his shoulder and chest. He hated being shirtless around most people because their eyes were always filled with a mix of disgust and pity, but this was just Yuri. If he would ever be comfortable showing his scars to anyone, it would be him. "How does this work?"

"You put your stump in that socket and then the straps go around your other shoulder."

"I think I can figure this out." He picked up the arm, which was heavier than he expected. It must have some kind of internal structure to keep it from caving in. The socket was padded with a leather strap he pulled taut. It was like a belt, but instead of a buckle there was a snap. Excellent – he loved snaps. Once that was in place, he wrapped the rest of the straps around his neck, torso and opposite shoulder. It looked confusing sitting on a table, but once he had it on, it was clear where everything was supposed to go.

After pulling everything tight and snapping it into place, he stood back and held his arms out. "Well?"

"You look… symmetrical."

Flynn looked down at the metal arm. "Yeah… it balances me out, although it can't really do anything."

"Not quite. The Soul Smiths are the best manufacturers around, you know. Try flexing your right shoulder."

He did so, and as he tightened the muscle just below his shoulder, it pulled one of the cords that ran down the arm. This caught at the elbow and pulled it in. "Oh! This is interesting." He experimented with flexing and un-flexing, watching the arm move back and forth.

"That's not all." Yuri went to Flynn's room and emerged a couple of minutes later with a dusty shield. It had been sitting in his closet for months, along with his old uniform. He didn't have a use for it anymore but didn't have the heart to get rid of it.

"Look at that." Yuri grabbed the metal wrist and guided the handle of the shield around it. He pulled a switch and the fingers snapped into place, locking the hand around the shield.

The weight threw him off at first, but he knew he'd get used to it with practice. He could use what remained of his arm to move it around and use the elbow mechanism to move it in and out. It was hardly the complete range of movement he'd need to fight to his old ability, but it was definitely something.

Yuri picked up his sword. "Care to try it out?"

"You want to put getting your ass kicked by a one-armed man on your record?"

"Oh-ho, those're fighting words. Don't think I'm going to go easy on you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

Yuri won their spar. Yuri claimed it was a draw, but it was obvious he had the upper-hand all the way through. Flynn wasn't too put-out about this, since he hadn't expected to win. Yuri was as skilled as ever, while he struggled to get used to the weight of his shield in the metal arm and remembering to keep his shoulder tense if he didn't want his arm to go flying out at the worst possible time. Add to that the fact that Flynn was still working on gaining strength and dexterity in his left hand, and if Yuri had truly been giving it his all he would have been defeated within a couple of minutes.

Despite all of that, it was fun. He hadn't had a good fight in months and getting his blood pumping with a sword in hand broke up the monotony of spending his day dealing with bureaucracy. When he first started fighting left-handed he couldn't get the movement to feel natural at all, but with no other choice but to use his left arm for everything, it was starting to feel normal. Even though he only managed to successfully use his shield to block a handful of blows, he hadn't felt better in weeks when they finally collapsed to the ground, out of breath.

Flynn unclicked the mechanism at his wrist to release the shield and then pulled the arm onto his chest. After a long period of panting for breath, and let out, "Nice."

"You did ok, too. You know, once you get really good at your left hand, you'll actually have an advantage."

"Why is that?" He stared at the sky, thanking the day for being so calm. He wanted to listen to Yuri today without his voice having to compete with the wind or bird song.

"Most righties spend their whole life fighting other righties. Then they meet a leftie and everything is backward and the sword is never where they expect it to be."

"I'm right-handed – well, I was – and I never had a problem fighting left-handed people."

"That's because you grew up sparing with me."

"Oh, true."

"I'm not staying in Zaphias long. I was just going to drop off the arm on my way back to Dahngrest. I can stay if you want me, though."

"No, you should go."

Yuri snorted. "Didn't know you were so eager to get rid of me."

Flynn kicked his shin. "You know it's not like that. I earnestly appreciate everything you've done for me, but I like standing on my own. I thought losing my arm would mean the end of my life, but it hasn't. It's taken me on a path I never anticipated, and I want to walk it on my own, to prove to myself that I can."

"It never occurred to me that you couldn't."

"I think… it's going to be ok."

"You've got to keep training until you can give me a decent fight again, though. I kinda miss having anyone even close to my level."

Flynn smirked. "I'll see what I can do."

"Hey, another thing." Yuri rolled on his side, propped up on one elbow. "I was thinking, you're probably the best guy to ask this very serious philosophical question: what is the sound of one hand clapping?"

Flynn gave Yuri's smug face a deadpan glare and then smacked him across the face. "Sounds something like that."

A/N: The end. Thank you for reading! I feel like it's a weird length. Too short for a multi-chapter fic but too long for a one-shot... but I have too many other projects to have let this get any longer. I hope you enjoyed it for what it was.