Athena looked on worriedly as Ace sucked in a deep breath. He slowly breathed it out, his entire body hunching over as he did so. His hand, instinctively held at his chest, finally dropped into his lap. His next breath was calm, clear, and quiet.

Knowing her gaze was upon him, he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “You okay?”

She nervously looked away. “If you’re okay.”

“I’m fine now,” he straightened himself up. “Mioko’s magic sucked out the pain–for now–and I can breathe a lot better when I’m not trying to fight off an Amorfian twice my size.”

The young woman pressed her lips together. “Ace,” she offered softly, “thank you for defending me.”

He shrugged. “I wasn’t about to let him take advantage of you like that.”

“It’s just… after what those women said…”

Ace let out another deep breath. “You mean I took advantage of people too?”

“I just mean I’m surprised you came back to help me.”

“Just because I lie and steal sometimes doesn’t mean I’m heartless,” he said snidely.

Athena felt a pang of regret as he stiffened and turned away.  “Well, then, what made you start,” she paused, swallowing, “lying and stealing?”

His eyes lost their focus. “It’s a long and stupid story.”

“Then, tell me,” she urged. “Tell me what happened. Maybe I’ll understand.”

“Or it might make you hate me.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she quipped, raising an eyebrow.

With her persistence, Ace knew he would not be able to avoid the trip into his memories. More importantly, he would be forced to divulge the side of him he wasn’t proud of to someone he was truly starting to care about–or at least care about her opinion. That was going to be the hardest part of the story.

He breathed in deep and blew it out, looking out across the shadows of the woods around them.

“After I ran away from home, I was in a pretty tough spot. I felt worthless, useless, and pretty much like a waste of space. About the only thing I was good at was playing cards–but hanging onto enough money to do it was a challenge. It was hard to keep a stable job, I couldn’t beg because people knew I played cards, and handouts will only last so long before they dry up.” He glanced up into the treetops. “That summer, when I was at one of my lowest points, I found this really pretty girl. She was shopping with some friends–kind of crazy that their parents let them all out unsupervised, but that’s Fortanya for you. I really wanted to talk to her, but I was young, and stupid, and too afraid of rejection. But, next thing I knew, she was walking up to me.”

He started to smile lightly. “She told me her name was Giselle… and she told me she noticed me because I was cute. I couldn’t believe it. This pretty girl with a pretty name was talking to me–and she thought I was cute! And when she said she wanted to hang out with me? Oh, I was walking on clouds.”

Athena found herself smiling along with him, watching as he leaned over his knees and started picking at the grass near his ankles.

“I started to go on walks with her,” he continued. “We were thirteen, so it’s not like we could have done much else. Once, I thought it would be nice to give her some flowers one of the times we got together. I had just picked them outside of town. She was so happy! From that day on, she told all her friends she had a boyfriend, and that I had given her the most beautiful flowers.” The smile continued to play on his lips. “Next time I saw her, she asked to go to the bakery together. I scraped together what little money I had and got us something to eat. She was so happy; told all her friends, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and made me feel like I may have actually been worth something.”

The smile began to sour. “Snacks soon turned into wanting lunch. I didn’t have enough money to feed us both, so I pretended I wasn’t hungry. She didn’t seem to care.” He plucked at the grass, one blade at a time. “Lunch soon turned into window shopping for necklaces. ‘Oh, Ace,’” he mimicked her voice, “‘if only I could have that necklace. It’s so beautiful; it would make me so happy,’” he finished the words with a sigh and shrugged. “So, I did what any other card-playing boyfriend would have done: I saved up all of my winnings for a week and bought it for her. She couldn’t believe it! She wore that necklace every day, and I loved seeing her wear it and look so happy,” he paused, “that is, until she found a necklace she wanted more.” 

Athena watched Ace’s fist rip out a handful of grass.

“She almost immediately quit wearing the other one; she only wanted the new one. I wasn’t having a good week for earnings, but I wanted to get her what she wanted. I wanted to make her happy. So… that day, at lunch, I stole the first necklace back.”

“You what?” she winced.

“It was a lot easier than I was expecting,” he admitted, his hands retreating back into his lap. “I knew she had it in her bag, and she left her bag at her seat when she found her friend across the room. So, I slipped it out, and she never even noticed. That evening, I sold the necklace and bought her the newer one. She had no idea; she was just overjoyed that I had given it to her.”

Ace chewed on his bottom lip. “Except, that only lasted so long before she wanted another. I tried to talk her out of it; told her she looked beautiful in the necklace she had. But that just made her mad. She threatened to leave me–threatened to tell her friends all sorts of lies that I had tried to do things to her I didn’t do,” he cringed, his eyes narrowing. “So… I stole money from one of her friends so I could buy her the necklace.”

Athena sucked in a gasp. “Ace…”

“And that was still only the beginning,” he glanced at her before huffing and looking back out into the woods. “Every time I turned around, there were more bracelets and blouses and bangles… And every time, if I didn’t get them, she’d threaten to leave me. I had been so conditioned into thinking I was worthless–so brainwashed that if I let her go, I’d never find anyone else who’d care about me… so I just kept doing it.”

He clenched his fists in his lap. “There finally came a time where I nearly got myself killed breaking into a house. I almost fell off the roof hiding from a nosy patroman, but I managed to slip away with enough valuables to cash in to buy her this really fancy dress. She was so happy…” he spoke the words through clenched teeth. “And, the second we walked outside, she saw another dress in the window across the street. She handed me back the dress I got her and walked over to that window. ‘Oh Ace, if only I could have this dress instead’...”

He turned to look at Athena. “It was then I realized she could care less about me. She wanted the baubles–the dresses–the gifts. I may not have been worthless, but I was only worth what I could give her, and it was never going to be enough.”

Pained, Athena reached across the space between them and rested her hand on his knee. “Ace, I’m… I’m sorry,”

His eyes narrowed as a grim expression filled his face. “I’m not finished with the part that’s going to make you hate me.”

Her frown was unchanged as she kept her hand on his knee.

Ace sighed and turned away. “I was done, but I really didn’t want to face her again. I packed up what little I had left and disappeared. I never saw Giselle or her friends again, even when I came back after a year or so.”

“Where did you go?”

“All across Northaven and Daethos. It was actually kind of nice to travel for a while,” he smiled somewhat before his attitude again soured. “But, while that got rid of the immediate issue, I still had the problem of needing money to be able to gamble. And then, I realized I had gained an even bigger problem: I knew how I could get money really easy now.”

Athena opened her mouth, but no words could escape her lips.

“She didn’t realize it, but Giselle had taught me everything I needed to know about stealing from girls. I learned how to distract them so they’d drop their guard. I learned how to lie to make them think I really cared about them when all I wanted was the right moment to take their fancy bracelet. I learned how to sweet talk so they wouldn’t expect someone like me was the reason all of their money was gone when the night was over.” Ace chewed his lip, looking up into the trees. “I learned how to play into all the things girls like her wanted so I could take advantage of them.”

The young woman shut her eyes, shaking her head.

Ace watched her carefully, waiting until her hunched form stilled and her eyes opened to meet his. Her expression was both disappointed and empathetic, and he knew she had to be wrestling with the urge to simply tell him off and leave the camp for good–like she had tried to do earlier.

“I’m so sorry, Ace.” Her voice finally came as her hand, still on his knee, squeezed even tighter.  “I’m so very sorry.”

The thief blinked a few times, surprised when her reaction was far from what he had expected.

“I hate that you had to go through all of that; I hate that she used you for her own gain, not realizing what you were going through to meet her insatiable needs,” she shook her head, finally releasing his knee to brush away the brown strands of hair that had fallen into her face. “And I hate that she made you think all girls are like that.”

“I know they’re not,” he stressed, reaching out toward her hand–only to brush the back of it with his fingers. “At least, I know… you’re not.”

She swallowed, her lips pressed thin.

“I wasn’t lying before when I said I could never dream of doing anything to you. I know that doesn’t mean much after everything I’ve told you,” he broke eye-contact for a moment, “and it doesn't take away what I’ve done… but I hope–maybe–it shows you that I know you’re different from anyone else I’ve met.”

She watched as he quickly scowled and tucked away his hands into his lap in shame.

“I feel like everything I say is going to sound phony,” he grumbled to the grass. “I should just shut up.”

“Ace,” Athena tried to regain his hand, but he recoiled out of her reach and turned around. She managed a half smile and scooted closer to him regardless.

Ace jumped when he felt her back against his. He resisted the urge to move away; instead, he tried to focus on her warmth. His heartbeat slowed, and his breathing evened out. He let out a slow breath and closed his eyes.

“Well,” she said after a moment, “I can at least tell you that you were wrong.”

He grimaced and tried to look at her over his shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She turned to look over the same shoulder. “I heard the whole story, and I don’t hate you.”

Finding himself staring into her eyes, he whipped his head around and returned to face the darkened forest with a flushed expression on his face.

She found a smile and simply linked her arms around her knees, keeping her back against his white the campfire popped beside them.

----

What -- a short from the first book??

I actually had just had Ace's story without any of the dialog bits in one of my notes, and I didnt know exactly what story it was going in (I knew it would be towards the beginning). I thought at first it would go into the Dorian-Ace bonding section in #2, but it actually works way better as Athena-Ace bonding, and fits well with everything the two of them just went through.

I've realized Ace's past with an abusive parent is what really drives a lot of his issues; yes, Giselle's influence doesn't help, but his desire to impress others and his struggles with self-worth are what really get him doing the wrong things. His situations keep him on a very slippery slope with addiction and making poor choices. Thankfully, he gets a good group of friends to set him straight.

I had actually planned on including Giselle in a later story; she was going to show up convieniently as Ace and Athena are about to get married - and when the "old" Phoenix is staying with them due to being sick. Giselle, in her jealousy, steals The Phoenix's time-travel stone (I hadn't changed him into an all-around sorcerer yet) and tries to stop Ace from meeting Athena. Vance gets looped in and ends up being the one to convince her to stop, and when Phoenix realizes his understanding of time, he offers the power to him upon his death, despite Ace being his descendant. Still neat, but needed adjusting as things have changed - and the new timeline I've figured out doesn't allow for an entire story of them preparing for their wedding.

“Tabard… right… I need one of those…” Ace was muttering to himself as he shuffled through the bustling streets of Montrose. “At least they’ll give me armor and a… a helper person; and I’ve got my sword,” he glanced at his shoulder as the owl on his shoulder made a clacking sound with her beak.

A tall, bulky man with a deep black beard walked past them. His blood red tabard bore an intricately woven lion of golden thread, and it was vibrant even in the clouded light. A small army of squires and guards followed, also bearing swatches of the same red on their gear. He walked with authority, looking down his nose at everyone around him–including Ace–as he passed.

“I bet that’s one of the other knights,” Ace bit his lip, offering a finger to stroke Orfea’s chin in an attempt to calm her. “I don’t think I like him either.”

He continued to weave through the crowds filling the street, and he found booths set up along the sides selling a variety of wares. Flowers, food, earthenware, clothing, and other trinkets were on display as shopkeepers called out to the crowds, hoping for even a few seconds of someone’s attention.

“Get ye’ gear here!” A man with a thick Weivan accent called from a nearby booth. “Scarves, tabards, banners–show ye’ pride for ye’ country! Show ye’ pride for ye’ knight!”

Ace stopped and joined the others gathered at the booth, eyeing the selection or wares hung from poles along the back. He perked up when he found tabards in traditional colors of each country: red and gold for Daethos, red and blue for Northaven, green and white for Weiva, and lavender and gold for Valiant. He frowned when Kalgara’s gold and blue was not found among them, but he was not surprised. Despite the peace treaty signed after the war, Kalgara was still not considered part of Daethos’ reign.

But then, a tabard in a simple shade of red with a black stripe down the middle and along its edges caught his eye.

“Excuse me!” 

Orfea hopped onto his head as he squeezed between two women to reach the booth’s front table. 

“Aye, how canna’ help ye’?” The red-haired man stepped up to the opposite side, blinking when he found himself face to face with a barn owl.

Ace coaxed Orfea to step onto his hand, and he returned her to his shoulder before pointing to the back wall. “What country are those colors for?”

The man glanced backward, following the direction of Ace’s gloved finger. A smile tugged at his lips when he saw the red and black fabric. “Oh, that’s one for the Spades District in Southern Northaven.”

“The Spades District,” the gambler began to grin. “Of course.”

“Aye, my new seamstress just made it th’ other day,” he turned back to Ace. ”I assume yer’ familiar?”

“I was born and raised in Fortanya.”

“That’s th’ heart of it, all right.” The man nodded.

“Ill take it,” Ace started to reach for his money bag.

The man’s smile grew genuine. “Oh, thank ye’, sir. My daughter will be–I mean–”

“Your daughter is your new seamstress?” Ace paused when he caught the slip.

The shopkeeper shrugged with open palms. “Aye, just… tryin’a get her interested in th’ family business.” He turned back to the wall and pulled it down from the pole. He handed it to Ace and watched as he ran his thumbs along the black edges. “Since we moved here, she’s become enamored over Northaven’s districts. I think she just likes th’ emblems.”

Sure enough, Ace’s thumbs found a pair of small embroidered swords crossed over a black, leaf-like spade on the top right of the tabard. “She does very good work,” he said, setting the fabric down on the table. “This will be perfect.”

“Very good, sir. The tabards are thirty silver pieces.”

“Thirty?” His hands froze in place. He knew he didn’t have thirty–not since buying Orfea and food for them both over the last two days; still, he felt compelled to sift through the bag nonetheless–if only just to show he was trying. “...I’m very sorry, sir; I only have twenty-two. I didn’t mean to waste your time,” he frowned and started to hand the tabard back to the man.

The man held up his hands. “No–I’ll split the difference.”

“What?”

“I really want her to sell her first tabard,” the man set a hand on the cloth to stop its movement. “Fifteen pieces, and it’s yours.”

“Sir, at least let me give you what I have–”

“Fifteen,” he stressed. “It’s going to a good home. ‘Sides, ye’ll need provisions while yer here for th’ tournament.”

Ace smiled, then bent down to count out fifteen pieces. He handed them to the shopkeeper, who accepted them gladly. “Thank you sir, I don't know what to say.”

“I’ll accept yer name,” he reached out once his hand was free of the coins.

Ace grasped his hand and shook it. “Ace Gallagher.”

“Ace?” He repeated, cracking a wide grin. “It really is goin’ to a good home, isn’t it.”

Ace simply smirked.

“I’m Robert Murphy. My wife, there at the other end of the booth, is Charlotte. My daughter, Rose, is not here at th’ moment, but I’ll be sure to tell her she’s made a sale.”

“And tell her when I have more money, I will buy all the Spades District gear she’s got.”

Robert gave a hearty chuckle. “I'll do it. Enjoy th’ tournament, Ace; I assume you're rooting for th’ Knight o’ Northaven?”

Ace chewed on his smile. “Yeah, I sure am.”

“Well, I’ll wish th’ best of luck to Northaven tomorrow on your behalf!” He raised a fist.

“Thank you, Robert, I’ll...” he paused, “I’ll bet he’ll need it.”

“And that’s one very well behaved bird ye’ve got there!” He pointed to Orfea. “I’ve been meanin’ to say so.”

“Oh, thanks,” he reached up to gently stroke the bird’s feathers. “She’s a good judge of character.”

Robert simply chuckled. “Good'ay, Ace.”

“Good day,” he nodded.

Ace returned to the crowd, again weaving around the groups of visitors, vowing to save the rest of his money for absolute emergencies. He almost immediately caved when he passed a booth selling sweet pies and savory pastry pockets–and the rumble of hunger in his stomach convinced him to stop for lunch. Thankfully, the meat-filled treat was only one more of his silver pieces, but the dwindling number in his money bag reminded him how much he needed the prize.

“I sure hope I can win this thing,” he again began to mutter to himself as he returned to the arena with his new tabard and dinner in hand. He took a bite of the pastry and then pinched off a bit of the shredded pork inside to hand it to Orfea. She swallowed it gladly.

“‘Cause, if not… well,” his focus turned inward, “I don’t think Athena’s going to give me another chance.”

---- 

More from the jousting story! This one happens before the tournament (as I'm sure you gathered) and also stemmed from me realizing how little Ace really has when he goes into this thing. I really kinda glossed over that in the first draft... ha.

Also figured out how I could still work "Spades" in since I changed the country's name to Northaven. Now Spades is a district! The only other I know of is the Diamonds district (the line of distinction between the two is very apparent) and I assume the other card suits have their place too.

Lastly, I swapped Ace buying a mini dragon to Ace buying a barn owl off an old lady. I did kinda forget Ace gets her in this story... so she should still be around in Book 5.

Fun story for Orfea's name: my old boss/friend Ken and his wife took me to go see the opera "Orfeo ed Euridice" at one of the colleges one evening when I was working with them. We ate at Cracker Barrel  before, where I found a snowy owl plush that I had to purchase. We went to the opera, and enjoyed it, and on the way home I decided I would name the owl Orfea (because even the "actor" playing Orfeo/Orpheus was a girl/alto and I wanted her to be a girl owl). So even though Ace's owl is not a snowy owl, I still like the name for an owl. And Orfea means "darkness of night" so it works well for an owl anyway.

“And now: the final match of this tournament,” Havar proclaimed from atop his dusty friesian. “The two knights who have fought with the most skill, prowess–and even some cunning–will take to the ring one last time and prove who is, indeed, the best of all knights in the realm!”

Despite some booing left over from the outcome of the previous joust, the crowd, as a whole, was feeding right into the hype the grandmaster was giving them.

“One knight, seasoned with experience and adeptly skilled; the other, a young challenger who has proven his worth with ruthless determination. These knights: Sir Lucas Santiago of Daethos, and Sir Michael Gallagher of Northaven!”

Ed blinked. “Gallagher? You’ve got to be kidding me…”

The crowd burst into a lively cheer around him.

Havar turned his horse and began to pace her slowly across the field. “As these knights suit up one last time, let us recall the daring feats we have witnessed today.”

While the grandmaster began to recall the first joust, Ed took his chance to slip out of the arena. He staggered to a stop, noting the number of patrolmen stationed at the door had doubled since he had entered. They glanced at him for only a moment, but soon turned their attention back to the field. His brows lowered, he continued past them without another look.

He hurried around the hill, finding a worn path that led into the knights’ courtyard. He scanned the canvas tents, each decorated in the colors of each knight, looking for any sign of Ace among them. He stepped into the camp and immediately crossed the open tent of Sir Santiago. He was turned away as his squire fastened his breastplate. His black and white tunic was stained with mud, sharply contrasted by the brighter colors of the banners hanging around him.

Beside it, Ed found another tent bearing Daethos’ colors and crest–along with a second crest with a golden lion on a field of red. The tent was closed, but there was clearly activity going on behind the canvas. The next two tents were empty, bearing the green coat of arms for Weiva, the lavender shades of Valiant. The next tent was closed and only had a few red and black banners tied to the posts.

At last, Ed approached the tent with the coat of arms of Northaven, but he found the tent flap closed. He frowned, debating bursting into the tent to catch Ace off guard.

“Here you are, sir.”

Ed abruptly turned around to face the stables across from the circle of tents to find an older man adjusting the pauldron on a young man’s right shoulder.

“Holy mother of dracleons: that is Ace Gallagher in a jousting tournament…” Ed whispered under his breath.

He discreetly slipped into an empty stall, blending into the shadows as both Ace and his armor-bearer were facing away from him. He held his breath, watching the man tighten the straps of the knight’s armor one last time.

“Ow–careful,” Ace winced, grasping the sleeve of his red and black tunic.

“My apologies, Sir. That shoulder’s taken quite a beating,” Wayland mentioned gently. “You would do well to not fall from your horse another time.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” he puffed air through his lips. He then squared up with Wayland as the man lifted the silver helmet from the rack. As it was held in the air between them, Ace’s lips tugged to a smile. “Thanks for all your help, Wayland,” he said.

The older gentleman simply slipped the helmet onto the knight’s head and offered, “I am here to serve.” When he stepped back to survey his work, he caught Ace’s green eyes–barely visible beneath the shadow of the helmet.

“You show great promise, Sir Gallagher,” Wayland nodded, crossing his wrists as his arms hung at his middle. “Keep up your training, and I wouldn’t doubt this land will one day be filled with your tales.”

He let out a short laugh. “I’m not sure I want that anymore, to be honest.”

Wayland’s half-grin stretched beneath his gray mustache, and he turned to retrieve Lady from her stable. He assisted Ace into the high-backed jousting saddle, then adjusted the red and black caparison beneath it that covered the mare’s white and brown fur. Lastly, he carefully attached the shield to Ace’s already tender shoulder.

“Are you ready, sir?” he asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” Ace quipped, gathering the reins in his hand.

The hired armor bearer nodded and followed silently behind the Knight of Northaven as they entered the tiltyard. The clouds were continuing to thicken in the air, dulling the once vibrantly sunny day. It seemed even the weather knew the end of the tournament was near.

Back in the shadows, Ed’s lips were skewed. He was shocked no one had bothered to check Ace’s true pedigree; stunned no one realized Ace was only a knight in honor, not in skill. He, on the other hand, had worked up the ranks and trained daily to earn his position as a knight in order to join the Daethen Patrol–although it had all been stripped upon his departure from the program. How could Ace simply slip through and gain a position in one of Daethos’ most prestigious games without doing any of the work to get there?

Cheers wafted into the stables as Sir Gallagher waved his hand to the crowded stands. 

Ed took a step into the middle of the room, watching the spectacle unfold.

And yet, somehow, the former thief and gambler had advanced to the final round.

“It has to be luck,” Ed muttered under his breath. “That’s all that kid has going for him.”

“Excuse me,” a voice came from behind him.

Ed scooted aside to find the black and white knight and his armor bearer entering the stable. He watched the armor bearer take the golden-colored mare from her stall and hold her reins as the knight climbed into the saddle. They then entered the field to a similar cacophony of cheers.

A bellowing voice was quickly approaching from the opposite direction. He slid back into the stall moments before a bearded knight in red and gold entered the stable with a purpose. His squire was running to keep up.

“Fetch my horse!” Sir Laude growled, adjusting the pieces of his armor as he stood in the center of the room.

The squire, however, was heaving to catch his breath with wide eyes. “Sir–I don’t–”

“Don’t what?” The knight roared to the squire, “Are you getting cold feet, Ratlin?”

The squire shook, raising up his hands as his eyes darted between the cries from the field, the snorting of the horse, and Rei’s seething breath.

“Well?”

"I just don’t–what if it doesn’t work?"

The squire could not move fast enough by the time he noticed the knight’s hands were on the golden hilt of his sword. He was slashed across the arm as he rolled away, shrieking as blood began staining the gray sleeves of his tabard.

“If you’re not on my side, I have no need for you!” Rei gripped the draconic sword with a tight fist. “Get out of here!!”

The squire staggered over his own feet and bolted out of the stables.

“You! Stablehand!”

Ed jumped, finding the knight glaring at him through the dim light.

“Fetch my horse, will you?” He slid the sword into its sheath. “The black stallion.”

The man swallowed and ran to the stall of the black stallion. He flinched when the horse pawed at the ground and snorted when he opened the stall, but he took the reins in his hand and led it out with a firm hand. The horse tried to back away more than once, but each time, Ed regained control.

Sir Laude watched the man work. “You have a good hand with horses,” he commented.

“Thank you, sir.” Ed nodded as the knight climbed onto his horse.

The knight turned toward the camp. “Attend, ho!”

Out of habit, Ed stood straight and fell in line behind Sir Laude–as a handful of other men rushed in and joined him.

Rei’s stance perked up at Ed’s gesture. “Are you a knight?”

Ed remained still under Rei’s scrutiny. “I was,” he emphasized the past tense.

Rei fingered his beard. “Daethos?”

“Northaven.”

“That will do.” The Knight of Daethos shifted in his saddle. “You lot–stay behind me and wait for my signal. My plan will not fail because of the men currently on this field.”

Ed swallowed again, glancing to the field before him as Sir Gallagher lined up for his final joust.

---

This was on the shorter side, and I remember writing it when I realized Ace would probably be assigned a random armor bearer to help him when he joins the jousting tournament. Wayland is an elderly fellow who ends up really helping coach Ace through everything (along with Sir Lucas being a very kind opponent).

Also, as much as Ace seems to be getting along off luck -- in Ed's opinion -- ironically, it also sets things up for Ed's future...