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The problem with Thena, even now, is that she won't give him the dignity of a fair fight.
No, this is little more than a schoolyard tussle. It's a distraction.
Ikaris knows that. And yet, he indulges.
He throws himself into the ensuing battle with a blind fury. His raw strength should be able to overwhelm her -- and yet, somehow, it doesn't. Thena elegantly parries every last blast from him, as if he's easy, no, predictable. As if he always has been.
It's an infuriating truth -- no one's ever been her match.
No one's ever come close, except Gil, and he's long gone. The last of his ashes, floating down the river and into the sea.
There's a sudden twist in Ikaris' chest at the memory, something aching and bitter.
Thena was notoriously private. She and Gil never took the more public route him and Sersi did, but he's known. As they all have.
She's had the luxury of a quiet, unburdened love.
He resents her for it.
It's that sentiment that savages his next moves, lets him smash her protective shield into a thousand glittering pieces.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees the corner of her mouth pull up, just a little, and his composure shatters.
And just like that -- the fight is over, far too easily.
He finally pins her to the wall, fingers closing around her wrists, warm breaths mingling. It should be a moment of defeat.
And yet, all she does is smile at him. Beautiful, radiant. Effortless.
Like she knows, somehow, about the thoughts lingering at the back of his head -- thoughts of pressing closer, pressing harder, his mouth over hers, a low growl caught in the back of his throat.
The perfect violence of it all.
Because there's never been a damn thing that he's ever wanted that he hasn't been able to take.
Except her. Only her.
There's such a delicate line, between love and hate. Eternity is a long enough time to close the distance between both.
Her eyes turn golden, and then the ruse is up. In an instant, he knows.
Child's play.
And he's been the unwitting fool, all along.