Flashback 1

Flashback.

"We already trained today. We're doing this so you can punish me."
"That's right. It's not the whole answer though." Grandmother spun her staff into a ready position and began to circle to her left. "You know what I say about anger ?"
"Use it, don't let it use you. Don't hang onto it, use it or let it go. Question what makes you angry" supplied Nasrin, gripping her own staff too tightly.
"Right again. You're not stupid. You tried to be earlier, but you aren't."
"I'm sorry."
"I know." Grandmother punctuated this sentence with a vicious sweep with her staff, putting her hips into the swing. Nasrin blocked it, her palms stinging thanks to her rigid grip. Eyes wide in surprise at the directness of the blow.
Grandmother nodded to acknowledge her. "Right yet again. You broke rules. I don't need to be angry at you to punish you." She held the staff casually as she continued "You're human, you made a bad choice. I'm human, I'm angry. I'll apologize for using it against you, but I am."
"I'm sorry." To her credit, Nasrin sounded worried, not scared.
Nasrin had to duck the next blow. It would have cracked her skull if she hadn't. She jumped aside and struck at her grandmother. Her stance was bad, her grip was wrong, and she wasn't even aiming her swing to connect.
Grandmother swatted it aside. Nasrin's palms stung again; she barely held on to the staff.
"I'm angry. You know me well enough to know that normally I'd put that aside when I dealt with you. This time though, I'm going to use it. You're better with a staff than what you're showing me. Your grip is worse than your embroidery.
You haven't been learning to fight. You've been learning to spar with someone who loves you. Now you'll learn to fight someone who wants to hurt you. What you can take and keep going."
Fix your grip. You're safe for five seconds while you shake out your tension, take two good breaths, and then get your grip right." She grounded her staff for emphasis, her stance showing no threat.
Nasrin swallowed hard and shook herself. She knew which breathing technique was right, a nose-mouth rhythm for focus, energy, and flow. Two breaths, and she shifted her weight to her back foot and came into a relaxed guard position.
"Ready ?" Nasrin nodded back.
Grandmother hit her in the stomach with the butt of the staff. The girl gasped, and stumbled backward. She struggled to get back into a stance. In her eyes, interest. Not fear, not her own anger, a new, sharp interest in every detail of grandmothers footwork, grip, where she looked...
Two quick strikes blocked, then on the third The end of the staff whip-cracked into her jaw and mouth. She couldn't wipe her split lip, both hands were very much occupied spinning the staff this  way and that.
"No teeth loose ?"
Nasrin checked and then shook her head.
"That's good dear" grandmother said, then promptly put Nasrin into the dirt. She stood aside, almost strutting as she waited for the girl to get herself back up. Nasrin would be a year older before she really understood exactly what had happened there.
She went into the dust three more times before grandmother stepped in to give her a hand up into a huge hug. She held Nasrin close for some time, whispering to her for long, precious minutes.