7.03 – ntorship I
On most days, after official Tenet classes and any extracurriculars wrapped up, Natalie and her team would head off into the dungeon, assuming they had no other responsibilities. But today, Natalie did have sothing preventing them from doing so. Her 'ntorship session' with Instructor Robin.
It was, frankly, one of the more significant punishnts delivered onto her, at least in Natalie's eyes—the fact her schedule was being restricted, her ti to train and progress denied. More importantly, taken from her teammates too. While morning duties only hurt Natalie herself, and were thankfully weekdays-only, the longer ntorship session would prevent at least one evening delve a week. In an environnt as competitive as Tenet, that could make a difference.
It was what it was, though. Not much to do about it. She just wished the consequences of her actions had been restricted to her alone.
Natalie had been told to et Instructor Robin at her office in the administrative building, a structure on campus she'd only been to once since the start of the sester—and that had been yesterday, to see the Dean. Tracking down the correct office number wasn't hard. Arriving, she saw that the door was already open, and the white-haired Theliosian glanced up from her desk to wave her in.
"Close the door behind you, please."
Natalie did so. Walking inside with so trepidation, she looked around at the interior of Instructor Robin's office. Tenet Academy had no lack of funds, and seeing how even the worst combat instructors were high-rankers, and thus practically nobility of a sort, the office was spacious and well-furnished, bordering on luxurious—though she wouldn't go so far as to call it gaudy or opulent. Certainly wealthy, though, as every inch of Tenet's campus.
"Take a seat, Natalie," Instructor Robin said, gesturing at one of the two plush leather chairs set in front of her desk. "I'll be with you shortly. Thank you for your punctual arrival." She didn't look up from whatever she was working on.
Natalie sat. The scratch of pen-on-paper filled the air. Her eyes wandered around the office. Instructor Robin had furnished the space with spartan efficiency, and beyond the expected bookshelves and filing cabinets and so on, there were only a few personal touches. The first, of course, were the awards and dals atop a side table. Instructor Robin was a decorated woman and obviously took pride in that fact.
What caught her attention the most was the centerpiece trophy, a thin silver cup with wide handles. Natalie wasn't half as interested in the dueling scene as soone like Sofia, for example, but everyone knew what that cup represented. It was the International Dueling Assembly's iconic trophy, the tournant held every four years which, quite frankly, had rippling effects across the global political scene. Because when such enormous power rested in a small collection of high-level individuals, a sweep of victories for a particular nation often translated to a direct implication of military might—and thus acted as deterrence, or encouragent, for future wars.
And Instructor Robin had won seventh place at one of the IDAs. For her bracket, of course—she was no top ranker, who were the real power houses among nations. It was still an incredible feat, prestigious even for a Tenet instructor.
Natalie spent a few more monts admiring the other awards and trophies, so granted by Tenet, others for dueling achievents, and so to commorate her assistance during national catastrophes—like what Natalie and her team might receive one day for a quest. A real quest, though, not a first-year task for staving off a goblin nuisance, but rather the sorts of threats mid- or high-rankers would be sent for to deal with. The neglect of which could have devastating consequences.
Eventually, her eyes moved away from the trophies to the rest of the office, Instructor Robin's pen still dutifully scratching away at her paperwork. There were a few oil paintings her attention lingered on, but Natalie frankly wasn't an admirer of fine arts, so that lasted only a brief few monts. What really caught her attention next was a frad picture on Instructor Robin's desk.
It was Instructor Robin and another woman. The stern Theliosian stood straight-backed and with calm blue eyes next to a girl who seed her complete opposite—short, brown bouncy hair, tanned skin and a huge grin that seed to make up entirely for Robin's stoic expression, a beaming radiance that would give Liz a run for her money. She was holding Robin's arm, head leaning against her shoulder, the close proximity making her seem like … well, a lover. Natalie blinked several tis, seeing that.
"My wife," Instructor Robin explained, apparently having caught the reaction.
"Your wife?"
An elegant white eyebrow raised in question, and Natalie realized her tone had been a little too incredulous to be polite.
"I just—" Natalie said. "I didn't know you were married."
"For twenty-seven years, yes."
Natalie managed not to outright boggle at Instructor Robin, to keep herself halfway in check. This stony woman had been married for twenty-seven years? To that radiant ball of joy? There was also the smaller surprise of her being married at all, and to a woman, thus confirming a suspicion of Natalie's toward Robin's preferences, but it was definitely the sheer length of partnership—and the seemingly bubbly personality of her wife—that truly caught Natalie off guard.
"You two look happy together," Natalie said, salvaging her initial reaction. "That's a cute picture."
"Thank you," Instructor Robin said, and continued writing, unperturbed as always.
Natalie's thoughts, anwhile, were sprinting in circles. Was that confirmation, then, that Instructor Robin hadn't been flirting with her, that one day after she'd caught her and Camille sneaking out of spars together? Since she was married?
Then again, being married didn't preclude one or either of them having encounters outside of that marriage. Plenty of relationships were open in that way. For all Natalie knew, Instructor Robin had been scouting Natalie to share with her wife.
And, uh, that was a path of lurid imagination she would definitely not head down, not for the briefest of contemplation. Any perceived interest from Instructor Robin had probably—definitely—been inside Natalie's head. She was digging her own grave, one more ti out of a million, because she was flustered by the taller, older Theliosian.
Though how couldn't she be? A gorgeous, decorated high-ranker with an intensity to those calm blue eyes that made Natalie's stomach squeeze whenever they were turned on her. Not to ntion being her official Instructor. Her teacher.
Thankfully, the tapping of papers brought Natalie back to reality.
"That should take care of that," Instructor Robin said, and stood. "Thank you for your patience. Please follow ."
Natalie blinked, but did as instructed. Instructor Robin strode out of her office without further comnt, and Natalie hurried to follow.
But where were they going? Would her 'ntorship session' not be happening inside Robin's office, as she had expected? Where would it be, then?
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