There was a small mercy in how easy it was to sneak around the long way from the clan grounds to the back entrance to the gym, the smaller population compared to Mahogany, the lack of surveillance on this specific course. That meant, of course, that fate had to balance the scales in turn.

It was a bit of whiplash watching the Blackthorn gym leader’s expression drop from amicable to outright murderous.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Absolutely not.”

Lance leveled his look at the younger man in front of him, voice low and patient. “Draco, I don’t ask much of you.”

“You don’t, but that doesn’t matter when the one time you ask is for [i]treason[/i],” the gym leader hissed. “The fact that you’re stooped low enough to go behind both your family and your country is one thing, but asking me to follow your lead with it is just - what the hell, Lance? What happened to you?”

“You’d be let off,” the redhead explained, not for the first time. “This is all you have to do, just the match, nothing more, you can get away under the pretense -”

“And that’s just it! Even beyond me, you’re setting yourself on fire for something that you’re not even sure is going to [i]stick[/i],” he shot back, frustration bubbling forth near manic, near pleading as he took a step closer. “May not even be [i]used[/i].”

Lance waved back at Catherine, and she bit back the urge to blanch as she got dragged to the forefront of this mess. “Which is why she’s going to be there, utilizing it day one.”

“And very likely to get hurt, given how battles tend to go. Putting blood on all our hands.”

“Something we all risk, gender aside.” A knowing look. “And she’s not the only one who wants this, trust me. This is still in favor of the clan.”

That seemed to strike a nerve as Draco faltered, as he glanced aside, as he scraped himself back up. “...It’d be selfish of someone to go so blatantly against tradition for a personal want like that. There’s a reason we follow them in the first place.”

“The values of the clan aren’t meant to swallow you whole either, though,” Lance countered. “We can’t move forward if all we do is retread the same ground, ignoring each individual for the sake of a pretense. You [i]know[/i] this.” He set his hands on the other man’s shoulders. “You know I have nothing but the utmost faith in you. All I’m asking is for you to have faith in me for this.”

The gym leader wavered for longer this time, the slow breath he took, the furious challenge in his eyes. “If we bowed to our feelings instead of what’s objectively right or wrong, we never would’ve made it this far. I won’t let you put me between a rock and a hard place.”

An understanding, if crestfallen look ghosted across Lance’s face before he straightened, and Catherine watched as the man cast himself aside for his position. “Forgive me, I don’t have the time right now to argue. If you’re that concerned about the shallow value of our traditions and not the context behind them, then you’d remember that loyalty to your elders is the baseline of our traditions. Do you not trust me, your elder, your future clan head, to move in our clan’s best interests? Do you not think I also have full faith to my own superiors?”

“I, Lance -”

“Because I’m the one who gets to determine what those best interests are,” the elite went on. “Me. Not you.”

The gym leader’s look darkened in anger. (In fear, just for a beat, the mask adjusted in correction soon enough.) “For now.”

Lance’s voice grew softer. “Something already accounted for. Trust me, Draco.”

The air, already thick with anticipation, nosedived even harder as time stretched infinite. Catherine watched as the two exchanged looks and unspoken words, as she became all the more aware of just how much she was missing from this entire situation.

“Fine,” Draco spat suddenly, ran a frustrated hand through aqua hair before he retreated to his desk. “Fine, Lance. Whatever. You want it, you get it, consequences be damned. See if I care.”

“Thank you, Draco.”

The gym leader’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t reply - set the match registration form with surprising gentleness on top of his desk, regarded Catherine with such a bone crawling malice that she felt oddly validated. “You’re the one my cousin is putting all his stakes on? Here’s hoping your skill is better than your disguise.”

And with that, it didn’t take long for challenger and leader to take to the field, for Victor to stand against a serpentine blue dragon, for a referee to announce a start for the eighth time in Loki’s career. (For what might’ve been the last time, if the glower from Draco was any sort of indication, gods -)

Pretending the nerves rushing in her ears was simply the chatter of the bleachers, the waves from the moat around the arena, Catherine took in a shaky breath and counted to ten.

Exhaled.

Signaled the start of her conquest with a curt wave and a surety to her words. “Power Gem!”