Chapter Text
Lorcan wakes up to his alarm early on Day 5 of the Olympics. His 200 fly final is this morning, as is Imogen’s 200 free, and then the 2IM heats are in the evening. He’ll probably want to get an early lunch after his final and snag a snack for after the round of afternoon practice. And then a late dinner after the heats.
When he finally rolls out of bed and stops his alarm, Lorcan blanches a little at the number of texts he’s gotten. The relay team’s chat has blown up in the last half hour, as has the whole group’s chat, and Rolfe seems to have felt the need to send him a gajillion messages about forty-five minutes before Lorcan’s alarm went off. He has no idea what those could be about and is a little worried something has happened with Vaughan, so he checks Rolfe’s thread first. Fortunately, he figures out why Rolfe’s texting him pretty quickly. He vaguely remembers Elide mentioning that the gymnasts were going into Antica and that he had then offered to check with Rolfe for places they might want to stop at. He doesn’t remember actually texting Rolfe, but there it is, clear as day.
Lorcan: can u send places in antica
Lorcan: shops & restaurants & shit
Lorcan: the gymnasts r going out tmrw
Rolfe: Sure, I can send you some
Rolfe: Vaughan and I went to Ellia’s for food. It was pretty good
Rolfe: We got drinks at Curfew. Seemed aimed at college students, but it was fine
Rolfe: There were a couple knickknack stores we stopped at, lemme try and remember the names
Rolfe: Oh! Uh, Antica’s Treasures, His Majesty’s Storeroom, Rummage Time
Rolfe: Wait, why am I telling *you* all this? Just give me her number or give her mine and we can cut out the middleman
Lorcan: her
Rolfe: Have you ever been told to give an indication of tone in your texting? A little ? wouldn’t hurt now and then you know
Rolfe: And Elide, obviously. I’ll eat my hat if you talked to one of the others and want to help out like this
Rolfe: ...Do I need to eat my hat, Lorcan?
Lorcan: no
Rolfe: I take back what I said about tone indicators. I’m hearing you loud and clear
Rolfe: What’s her number?
With a sigh, Lorcan sends him a contact card for Elide and flips over to check the relay group chat.
Ansel: rise and shine, swimmers! today is a big fkn day!
Lin: I’d argue tomorrow is more important but you do you
Lin: Well in terms of the team anyway
Lin: No offense, Imogen, a medal race is also super important!
Imogen: None taken, of course
Imogen: I think it’s only really a big day for Lorcan…? He’s got two events
Ren: Yeah but we’ve all got something going on today
Ansel: exactly, ren, thank you
Ansel: anyway, we will, of course be supporting imogen & lorcan in their finals
Ansel: so breakfast by 7!
Lorcan: omw
Ansel: sleeping beauty wakes!
Lin: Do you think he’s always sleeping in because he’s so old?
Imogen: You have a point…
Lorcan: im 28
Lin: Practically a senior citizen!
Imogen: I mean, she isn’t wrong…
Lorcan decides it’s high time he head for breakfast. As he gets starts getting ready, he flips over to read through the dinner hell chat.
Aelin: we got silver!!!!!
Aelin: [picture attachment]
The picture is of Aelin, Manon, Asterin, and Elide crowded together, each with their silver medals in one hand and the little statuette that is Antica’s signature on the Games in their other. They’re each sporting enormous grins, and the picture was clearly taken almost immediately after they were released from the medal ceremony.
Aelin: just barely lost to the Eyllwe team :(
Asterin: If we had to lose to anyone tho, I’m glad it was them
Asterin: They had this one floor routine that was absolutely stunning
Manon: adarlan didnt win & we did, so im happy
Lysandra: Congrats! That’s amazing!
Lin: Awesome!
Imogen: ^^
Ren: Congrats
Nox: good job!
Lorcan: congrats
When he gets to the dining hall, the other four swimmers are in what Lorcan’s starting to think of as their usual corner. It’s where they always seem to end up, no matter what meal or which people sit down for it. He grabs a plate and sits down, feeling his phone buzz from inside his pocket. When he pulls it out, it’s to see a message from Vaughan.
Vaughan: When do you swim again? Rolfe and I will be there.
Lorcan: @ 10:50am & @ 8pm
Lorcan: ish
Vaughan: All right. Good luck, not that you need it. We'll find you after each.
Lorcan: thx
“Hey, Lorcan?” Imogen asks, pulling him out of his phone. “Do you have any events directly against any of your former teammates?”
Lorcan freezes before forcing himself to take a careful breath. He knows none of the four of them missed his reaction, but he thinks it’s about time he start trusting them not to be assholes about it. They haven’t yet, at least, and there’s no reason to think they will be. “There are a lot of swimmers from Doranelle, but only a few I really trained with,” he says after a moment. “We had the same coaching staff. One of them swims the 2IM, so I’ll be directly opposite him tonight. I checked, and we’re in the same heat.”
Ansel swears softly, Lin and Imogen trade grim looks, and Ren makes a sort of vaguely reassuring grunt. “That’s Rowan Whitethorn, right?” Lorcan nods, and Ren adds. “Well, he’s got a 200 back heat, what, a little over a half hour before? He’ll be scrambling, that’s awful scheduling.”
“Yeah, well, he really isn’t that bad. It’s not running into him that I’m worried about,” Lorcan says. “I hope he eats your bubbles, but Rowan’s fine. We’ve met up a few times in the last couple of days and it hasn’t been the end of the world.”
“Is it the coaches you’re worried about then?” Lin asks. “That short lady with the dark hair and dark eyes is the Doranelle coach, right?”
“Yes, that would be Maeve, the head coach for Doranelle Swimming,” Lorcan manages to grit out. “Rowan, Vaughan, the twins, and I were considered high-profile enough swimmers that she would manage our training and competitions personally sometimes. It was an honor,” he adds, unsure if he wants to sound bitter or not. On the one hand, while honor is certainly one way to describe it, it was not as positive as all that. On the other hand, if they pick up on anything, they'll probably pry further.
Fortunately, his teammates just exchange looks before seeming to silently agree to move on. “The twins are the Moonbeam twins, right?” Imogen asks. At Lorcan’s nod, she explains to the others, “They’re these two really talented freestyle swimmers. Never swim anything else, but between the two of them they basically win half of the men’s free events. The 200 is the only one they overlap in, and it’s pretty much guaranteed that one or both of them will place.”
“Oh, yeah, I read about them!” Lin says. “I remember, because it’s unusual enough to see siblings competing at this level, but twins? And then to be competing against each other rather than on a team together?”
“Well, they make half the 4x2 free relay,” Lorcan points out. “But otherwise, yes, they compete against each other. They train against each other, too. They’ve just always been really competitive.”
“Okay, so the four of you as special protégés I get. You’re all favored to medal in if not win most of your events. But what about Vaughan? I mean, no offense to him, but marathon swim is a lot of swimmers, most of whom don’t do well. And it isn’t that big of a sport,” Ansel says. “I haven’t read anything about him being the favorite or anything.”
“Honestly, none of us are sure why,” Lorcan replies. “Least of all Vaughan, I think. He’ll probably place in the top 10, out of 25, I think? Our best theories were that she wanted to be able to use him to show that she cared about all of the swimming events, not just the well-known ones. But he was always more on the outside of whatever little bubble we ended up in. Which may be why he was the one to leave,” he adds thoughtfully. “I never would have without him, but he always had a different view of things than the rest of us.” He pauses and then sighs. “It doesn’t really matter now. Are we ready to start heading to the Center for warmups?”
Lin and Imogen start collecting their things, Ren stands up to take his empty tray to the disposal station, and Lorcan stands up to follow him. He doesn’t miss the way Ansel narrows her eyes at him, but he leads the five of them out of the dining hall before she can say whatever’s on her mind.
— — —
When they get to the Aquatics Center, Imogen and Lorcan are whisked off to start warmups. Ren, Lin, and Ansel disappear off with their own coaches, presumably to talk through the evening one more time. Lorcan and Imogen have morning events, and then Lin, Ren, Ansel, and Lorcan have evening events. By the time Lorcan and Imogen make it out, it’ll be about lunchtime, and the five of them are planning to head out of the Village and get lunch as a team somewhere in Antica.
Practice goes as normal for Lorcan. His main coach, Pytor, has clearly figured out by now that Lorcan can be plenty hard on himself, so he generally sits back and lets Lorcan offer corrections and technique changes. Today, though, he stops Lorcan mid-ramble.
“Lorcan, I know today is probably going to be rougher on you than it might otherwise be,” Pytor interrupts him. “I know better than even your teammates, perhaps. That Vaughan of yours will know, but how many other people do you know who have moved Olympic Teams?”
Lorcan sighs. “Personally? Just you and Vaughan.”
“Exactly. Give yourself some grace. You will swim just as well as you always do, and then it will be done. And if you don’t swim as well as you always do, it will still be done.”
Lorcan nods slowly. “I won’t embarrass you, though, Pytor. I won’t let your name as a coach be dragged through the mud because I couldn’t perform as well as I should have been able to.”
Pytor waves a hand. “Hush. I’ll tell you a secret, yes? I don’t really care where you place. I only care that you swim a clean race, don’t get injured, and can find it in yourself to be happy with the results. If that’s gold, excellent! If that’s an exit after the heat, just as good.” Pytor pauses a moment and watches Lorcan calmly as Lorcan tries to let it sink in. When he finally nods grudgingly, Pytor continues, “Either way, that’s tonight’s race, yes? Let’s just focus on the fly finals this morning. How about some calisthenics to stretch out those muscles?”
Lorcan follows Pytor’s instructions through calisthenics, a light warmup, and a final brief strategy talk. Before he knows it, he’s being rushed off to wait for his race to actually start. Slowly, his row fills up with the other men who he’ll be swimming against. He trades a quick smile with the guy from Adarlan, rolls his eyes at the media diva, who appears to be complaining about the temperature of the chairs against his poor ass, of all things, and then prepares for the upcoming race. He tunes out the other swimmers and thinks through his strategy again. Strong start, hold down the first two laps, start to ramp up the third, push the fourth, but leave some in the tank for his heat in the evening. Granted, it’s only a heat, but still. Much as Pytor might be perfectly fine with Lorcan getting eliminated on a heat, Lorcan himself is most definitely not. He wants to swim against Rowan in the final, even if it may mean dealing with all of the other baggage that comes with swimming against Rowan.
Soon enough, his row are ushered out onto the pool deck. Somewhat mechanically, Lorcan waves as his name is called, starting to shed his jacket, secure his goggles, and loosen his muscles. The roar of the stadium falls away, just as it always does, when the announcer’s voice comes on.
Swimmers step up. Lorcan and his seven competitors each step up onto their blocks.
Swimmers take your mark. Lorcan leans over, curling his fingers over the edge of the block and bracing his feet to kick off.
BEEP! Lorcan pushes down and out, flying off the block as his arms come up for a perfect streamline. He hits the water at what he can tell is the perfect angle, shooting forward just under the surface of the water as his legs fall into the rhythm of dolphin kick almost unconsciously. When he breaches the surface, his arms find their rhythm seamlessly, propelling him through the water with each grab and release. Before he knows it, he’s hitting the wall and turning, pushing into the second 50.
By the time he hits the wall and starts his third 50, Lorcan feels alive the way only fly can make him feel. Good gods, he’s glad he gets to start his day with this event. He gets to actually let loose without worrying about spoiling himself for a final the next day. He gets to swim 200 whole meters of the stroke he’s loved for almost longer than he can remember. And best of all, he’s pretty sure he can win the gold in it.
When Lorcan hits the wall at the end of his fourth 50, he turns to check his time. He’s the first one at the wall, by a fairly significant margin, and has won the gold. Not only that, but it looks like he’s set a new world record. The man from Adarlan taps the wall one lane over to get silver and then swims over to Lorcan.
“That was an amazing race!” he cheers. “You got a record for it! I don’t know if you remember, but my name’s Wesley. Just wanted to congratulate you and say what an honor it has been to swim next to you.”
“I always beat you,” Lorcan points out. He immediately feels like an ass, but it’s entirely too late now.
Wesley shrugs. “True, but now I have a target. Your times are the ones to beat, and I’ve been improving. I’ll catch up to you one day,” he adds with a grin.
Lorcan smirks. “We’ll see about that,” he promises. Wesley smiles, shakes his head, and swims back to his own wall. Before long, the last of the swimmers has touched the wall, and Lorcan is able to haul himself out of the pool. Unfortunately, almost as soon as he’s out of the water, he gets accosted by a reporter.
“So, Lorcan,” she starts, and Lorcan immediately feels on edge. “What kind of message do you think it sends your old team and coaching staff that you’ve just won gold and set a new world record?”
Lorcan grits his teeth. “Well, I am beyond proud of myself and the Team Terrasen coaching staff, especially Pytor, for what I’ve accomplished this morning. I hope it shows Doranelle that, as much as I may miss them, I’m the same swimmer I always have been.”
The reporter sucks her teeth in frustration, and Lorcan sighs. She clearly wants a story, ideally at his expense, and he’d really rather she not get it. “You swim against one of your old teammates tonight, don’t you? Can you tell me some about that?” she finally asks.
“Yes, I’ll be swimming in the 2IM heats against Rowan Whitethorn, who swims for Doranelle. I’ll also be swimming against six other talented swimmers, as well as the swimmers in all of the other heats. I think it’ll be interesting to see who advances to the semis.” Lorcan pauses and then adds, “Of course, I hope my time is good enough to qualify, but we’ll have to wait and see.” The reporter opens her mouth, presumably to dig at something else, but Lorcan cuts her off. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go through my cooldown now.” He waves and books it before she can stop him.
— — —
After Lorcan has finished his cooldown, been awarded his medal, and tried to look engaged through the Terrasen anthem, he finds the rest of his teammates, Rolfe and Vaughan in tow, just outside the Aquatics Center. Imogen has a bronze medal looped around her own neck, and Lorcan reaches out to congratulate her first. She bounds up, and, surprisingly enough, wraps him in a hug.
“Look at us!” she cheers once she’s released him. “Two medals to start the morning!”
Lorcan finds himself grinning back. Suddenly, Ansel and Lin crash into him on either side, and Ren claps him on the back.
“You got a new record!” Ansel screams into his ear. He winces, and she pulls back far enough to make eye contact. “Did you know that was a possibility? If you knew and didn’t tell us, I swear…” she trails off threateningly and Lorcan smirks.
“Would I have told you even if I thought it might happen? But no, I wasn’t trying to beat it or anything. Just, you know, swim the best race I could.” Vaughan and Rolfe raise their eyebrows at him, knowing full well that's bullshit. He definitely got a little too drunk a few weeks ago with Vaughan on one of their rare get-togethers and started gushing about how amazing it would be to beat the world record. He beat the Olympic record for 200 fly last Games, but didn't quite manage to beat the world record. This has always been his event and he's always wanted it to be the one he medaled in and set the record for. It won't stand forever, of course, but at least for a little while his time will be the one to beat.
He ducks his head, trying to hide his own giddy smile, but Lin cackles into his other ear. “Gods, Lorcan, drop the media answers. How excited are you? Come on, tell us!”
Lorcan shrugs. “Excited enough to go out and celebrate if we didn’t have to compete again in, gods, six or seven hours?”
“All the better that we’re treating ourselves to lunch in the city. Come on,” Ren says, already heading towards the exit. “We have a reservation, and I’d rather not be late.”
Lorcan suffers through a hug from Rolfe and a shoulder pat from Vaughan before sending them on their way. Lunch is apparently a relay team only sort of thing, and Rolfe and Vaughan have plans to go spectate at various events. Lorcan didn't bother to ask what specifically they're planning to watch since he'd bet money neither of them know and are instead planning to poke their heads into various arenas until they find something interesting, stay until they get bored, and repeat.
Ren leads the way to a small restaurant about ten minutes away from the Aquatics Center. Before they officially leave the Olympic Complex, Lorcan tucks his medal and the little statuette Antica’s giving out at the medal ceremonies away. Imogen follows suit. They don’t need to attract too much unnecessary attention out in the city proper. They can probably be pegged as athletes at a glance, but Lorcan figures it’s better to remain as low-profile as possible. In his first Games, the organizers sent out message after message reminding the athletes to be careful, especially if they were planning to explore Rifthold. There had been a huge scandal at the Bellhaven Games when some idiot athlete drunk on spirits and glory had gotten himself mugged and attacked after boasting to the wrong people. He had, of course, kicked up a huge fuss, and it turned into a whole media scandal. Lorcan doesn't think something like that will necessarily happen again, but who knows? Better to be discreet than sorry.
Still, lunch out is absolutely worth it. The food itself is delicious. Antica has a way with spices that neither Doranelle City nor Perranth could ever hope to replicate, and his meal practically melts on Lorcan’s tongue. He’s always loved getting to see the host city in his downtime, and Antica is like no other city he’s been to. Even Balruhn, on the same continent and under the same government, is nothing like this.
Plus, it’s always nice to spend time with his teammates. They’ve only been a team for– Gods, Lorcan realizes suddenly, the trials were a month ago. We’ve been a team for less than a month. It feels like it’s been longer, but, what with living all over the country, they never really spent time together before the Games. Of course, Lorcan’s known Ren for longer, and Lin and Imogen have been friends for years, but they haven’t been a group for very long at all. Yet here they are, falling into place with each other like it’s nothing.
As they’re wrapping up lunch, Lorcan’s phone buzzes. A split second later, Ansel’s, Ren’s, Lin’s, and Imogen’s phones all go off too.
Ravi: were diving @ 3 if u wanna watch
Sol: We’d love the support, but def don’t feel pressured to come!
“Damn,” Ansel whistles. “Is it bad that I kind of maybe forgot they existed?”
“Eh, just as bad as me not knowing what the hell they’re talking about. Diving? At 3?” Lin says. She clicks around in her phone and then adds, “I didn’t have anything on my calendar between lunch and warming up for my heat tonight.”
“Me either,” Imogen says, shaking her head slightly. Her eyes clear suddenly, and she snaps her fingers. “Wait! They're the slightly creepy synchro brothers. From Suria, maybe?”
Ansel nods slowly. “Right, right. Well, do we have any interest in going to see the synchro competition?”
“Do any of us know anything about synchronized diving?” Lorcan asks. He’s pretty sure the answer is a resounding no, and, sure enough, the others all shake their heads. “How bad would it be if we go and don’t know anything about it?” he asks. “I wouldn’t mind going, as long as we leave plenty of time for warmups.”
Ren shrugs. “All right, let’s try it. And maybe if Lysandra shows up, we’ll have a chance to grill her on what’s going on. She doesn’t do synchro, I’m pretty sure, but maybe it isn’t that different.”
Ren leads the way back the way they came, although this time they head to the diving pool side of the Aquatic Center and not the swimming pool end. At the edge of the pool are the massive diving board structures, and Lorcan is suddenly immensely glad he never got into diving. He doesn’t really think of himself as afraid of heights, but gods the jump points are high up.
As the four of them are casting about for a good spot to sit, Lorcan’s phone vibrates. He pulls it out, keeping one eye on the stadium around him as he scans the new text.
Lysandra: Oh, I’ll come out to watch!
Lysandra: Also, Lorcan and Imogen: sorry I wasn’t able to make it to your events this morning! How did they go?
Lorcan: were just sitting come find us
Lorcan: imogen got bronze i got gold
Lorcan looks up when Ren taps his shoulder, gesturing at the row of seats Lin and Imogen have found. Lorcan nods his thanks, tucks his phone away, and leans forward to stare at the diving equipment. He hasn’t really bothered to watch diving much before – he usually prefers to spectate at events not in the same godsdamned building he already spends so much time in – and he’s actually finding himself excited to see what it’ll be like. Lorcan frowns when his phone buzzes again and pulls it out. It is, unsurprisingly, the same dinner hell chat it always is.
Lysandra: Congrats to you both! That’s great!
Imogen: Lorcan didn’t mention the best part…
Lin: HE SET A NEW WORLD RECORD!!!!!!!
Lin: Excuse the screaming but understand the excitement!
Lysandra: WHAT?!
Lysandra: Did you know that might happen?
Ansel: he says he didnt
Lorcan: no
Rolfe: He def wasn’t expecting it! I think he knew he’d won, but he didn’t know his time til he checked at the end
Rolfe: Vaughan and I were there of course
Vaughan: Congratulations, Lorcan, really. Unfortunately we can’t head out to see the diving, but I hope it all goes well! Swimmers, if you’re having a late dinner after your events tonight, we could join you?
Ren: Sounds good we’ll probably eat around 9 tho
Ren: Maybe closer to 10
Rolfe: We’ll be there tonight, so if one of you isn’t swimming, we can always sit with them? And then just stick around until you’re ready for dinner. We’ll bring snacks of course
Imogen: That’ll be me! Snacks are great, thanks
Lin: Wait has anyone heard from the gymnasts today? Usually they’re all over the chat
Lysandra: Aelin’s got them on a “technology free” day.
Ansel: theyre fine, theyll be back tmrw
Lin: Alrighty. Oh! I think the diving’s starting
Lin: Lysandra, come find us if you can, we’re kinda on the left side of the diving boards?
Lysandra: On my way.
When there are no more immediate texts, Lorcan tucks his phone away and focuses on the diving equipment. It looks like the event they’re at uses the lower apparatus, the one that looks like a very tall diving board, instead of the very tall platform dangling over the abyss. The taller one is easily three times the height of the springboard one, and Lorcan does not want to imagine plunging from that.
Lysandra manages to find them just after the first team, wearing Eyllwe colors, has gone. “Oh, you’ve got great seats,” she says as she sits down next to Ren, craning over Ren and Lorcan to wave at Ansel, Lin, and Imogen. “Who just went?”
“Eyllwe,” Lorcan says. The next pair looks to be in Fenharrow colors. “Do they only dive once?”
“Nope,” Lysandra says, watching critically as the Fenharrow pair start bouncing. She makes a dissatisfied huff as they launch into their dive, but Lorcan can’t tell if it’s because they’re bad or because they’re good. “For men’s competitions, they get six dives, and placement is awarded by cumulative score. For women’s we get five dives each.”
“How many teams?” Lin asks.
“Synchro is 12 teams, with one round. So whoever wins this will win the event,” Lysandra says. “Let’s see, who did I see is in men’s synchro? Eyllwe, Fenharrow, Terrasen, obviously,” she begins, ticking them off her fingers. “Melisande and Adarlan. The Southern Continent. Wendlyn, Doranelle, the Red Desert…” she trails off and then shrugs. “And three others I can’t remember. They’re probably from some of the smaller countries south and east of Wendlyn and Doranelle.”
Sure enough, the next pair is from a country Lorcan can’t quite identify and almost definitely couldn’t locate on a map. They do… fine, as far as he can tell, anyway, but Lysandra looks unimpressed.
“What are we supposed to be watching for?” Imogen asks after the next pair, this one from the Red Desert, has gone.
“Well, the big thing, obviously, is how in sync they are. They want to be spinning the same amount at the same time. The idea is that if you looked from one side, directly in line, you’d only see one diver. The other things are diving things. The biggest one for that is often how big the splash is. Basically, you want to hit the water as vertical as you can, create the smallest splash you can, and then balloon out underwater so you don’t hit the bottom.”
“How deep is it?” Ren asks.
“I think this one is about four meters,” Lysandra replies. “Plenty deep enough, honestly. The bigger concern is hitting your head or neck on the edge. There are some that will come really close, so be prepared.”
They all fall silent and watch as the next team steps up, this time in Adarlan’s garish red. They seem to do well, and Lysandra hums slightly while she watches. “Did you know I was born in Rifthold?” she asks after a moment. “Ended up in Caraverre, of course, and Terrasen has been my home as long as I can remember, but in another life maybe I would have dived in Adarlan red instead of Terrasen green.” She makes a face. “Well, gods know I could make anything work, but I’m quite happy with Terrasen instead of those pompous bastards. I suppose Dorian is all right, but the rest of them?” She gives a delicate little shudder. “And, oh, here are our boys.”
Sure enough, Ravi and Sol are up next. Their dive is fun, and Lysandra cheers for them. After the next pair goes, Lorcan turns to Lysandra. “Who’s Dorian?” he asks.
“Oh, he’s one of Aelin’s old friends. He does gymnastics for the Adarlan men’s team so they’d get to chatting sometimes. I think someone was hoping they’d get together? Never really worked, they clicked as friends more than anything else. Shame he’s friends with Chaol, that man is an asshole if I’ve ever met one.” She grimaces and adds, “I’d be more willing to spend time with Dorian if Chaol wasn’t always in his shadow. That man’s insufferable.”
Ren makes a grunt of agreement, and Lorcan makes a mental note to stay away from this Chaol character. Wesley seems fine for an Adarlanian, but he also seems like the exception that proves the rule.
For the rest of the event, Lorcan, Lin, Imogen, Ren, and Lysandra watch the diving. Occasionally, Lysandra points out specific technical aspects or hisses and then tears into a particularly heinous dive, but for the most part they chat and enjoy each other’s company. Fortunately, they end up with plenty of time to watch the competition and get moving for their heats. Unfortunately, Ravi and Sol place fifth and don’t manage to medal. Adarlan gets gold, which Lysandra seems unsurprised by, Eyllwe gets silver, and the Red Desert gets bronze. According to Lysandra, the Red Desert pair were something of a dark horse competitor. She was expecting bronze to be a fight between Fenharrow and Wendlyn. Lorcan supposes that’s the fun of the Olympics. It’s really anyone’s game, and anything could happen.
— — —
Lorcan spends the time leading up to his heat wound increasingly tightly. The host committee was thoughtful enough to include TV screens showing the feed of the events on the actual pool deck, so he’s able to cheer for his teammates even as he does his stretching and warm-ups. Lin’s heat goes smoothly enough, and she easily secures a spot in the semis.
Ren’s heat goes similarly smoothly. He cruises through it with his rather unique ability to look almost peaceful, even when racing along faster than most people could walk the distance. While he doesn’t win his heat, he does secure a seed in the faster semi. Rowan, unfortunately, also secures a seed, touching the wall just before Ren does. Lorcan scowls at that, even if it's more or less what he expected. He just hopes Rowan doesn't try to gloat about it when he comes in for the 2IM heat.
Ansel’s heat is more stressful to watch. It’s just before they set up for the 2IM heats, so Lorcan’s been ushered into the green room to wait for his turn which, of course, means that he’s trying desperately to watch Ansel’s heat while ignoring the presence of one large, tattooed, silver-haired swimmer from Doranelle next to him. Plus, Ansel bobbles her first turn a little and falls out of the top three. She doesn’t quite manage to make up the time and hits the wall fourth. It should still be fine to get her into the semis, but it won’t be the time Lorcan knows she was hoping for.
Unfortunately, though, he can’t worry about her for too long because Rowan clears his throat as soon as Ansel’s race ends.
Lorcan sighs. “Yes, hello, Rowan,” he says. “Swim well and all that.”
Rowan raises his eyebrows. “I for one hope we both swim well and go one-two–” he indicates himself first, of course “–into the semis and then into the finals. And on the podium,” he adds. “It’ll be like old times.”
“Except we won’t be in the same kit,” Lorcan points out. “Look, what do you want? I’d really like to focus on the race we’ll be swimming in just a few minutes.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Rowan replies, going silent briefly as they’re encouraged to move to the front row of chairs. Lorcan sees a person with a camera swooping around the room and makes sure to face front. Rowan, however, does not seem concerned about being caught talking to Lorcan. “Look, I’m sorry to barge in on your life like this. We really do want your help. I know it’s difficult, and I’m sorry to dredge everything up, but you left. Successfully.”
Lorcan huffs a breath. “Now is not the time. We can talk about things once our events are mostly done. For now, I believe I have a race to win.”
“I think you mean I have a race to win,” Rowan shoots back. “But I hear you. And I’ll do my best to keep her away from you two. We both know I can’t make much of a promise there, but I can certainly do my best.”
Lorcan inclines his head slightly in thanks and then does his best to wipe everything from his mind. He has a race to win and an old coach to show up. He follows the race officials’ instructions and heads out to his lane, doing one last stretch and adjusting his goggles. He waits for the command to step up, taking one long breath in and out. He glances to his side, where Rowan is, and then faces forward.
Swimmers step up. Swimmers take your mark. BEEP!
Lorcan breathes out and pushes off, trusting his body to make the dive the perfect angle to slice in without going too deep and losing precious momentum. As soon as he breaks the surface coming back up, he’s off, his shoulders working as he flies down the lane. At the wall, he makes his turn and flips over into back, willing his body to speed back down the length of the pool. At the second turn, he flips back over into breast and does his best not to cringe as he feels himself immediately slow down. He fights his way through it, knowing that the middle two legs were always Rowan’s strongest. He’s a back and breast swimmer if there ever was one, and Lorcan’s best bet has always been to take off during fly and then hold on until he can recoup some time in free. It’s not his best, much worse than his fly, but still better than his breast. When he hits the wall and turns for the final leg, he pushes all that he can without straining anything and injuring himself. He’ll have the semis for this tomorrow, assuming nothing goes catastrophically wrong, of course, and then his 100 fly heats are tomorrow night. He really can't risk pulling or straining anything.
When he hits the wall, he surfaces to see he’s placed a respectable second. Rowan is actually in third; the fastest time belongs to a name Lorcan doesn’t recognize paired with the Melisande flag. The kid is over in Lane 1, actually, so all the better for him, and Lorcan can’t swim over to congratulate him while the Lanes 2 and 3 swimmers still have yet to touch the wall. Still, Lorcan holds a thumbs up for him and resolves to congratulate him after they all get out. He turns to his other side and is faced with Rowan, who’s already hung himself over the lane line.
“Melisande kid’s gonna give us a run for our money,” Rowan says. “Congrats to you, too, and all, but keep an eye on him.”
“We’re getting old, Rowan,” Lorcan says. “I know it feels like yesterday was our first Games, but we’re on number four.”
Rowan opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by the officials leaning over to encourage them out of the pool. The next race will start soon and they’re in the way. Lorcan nods at Rowan and hurries off to catch the Melisande kid and congratulate him. Once he’s caught him and told the kid to text him if he needs any advice – it’s painfully obvious it’s the kid’s first Games and he was not expecting to be seeded first in the semis – Lorcan makes his way to cool down. He’ll meet Vaughan, Rolfe, and the rest of the relay team afterwards, they’ll get dinner, and then it’ll be time to sleep before they’re back for semis in mid-morning.
Lorcan has a passing thought that he should check with the gymnasts if they have any more events coming up now that the team final is taken care of, but he puts it out of his mind in favor of making sure everything feels loose and stable and he won’t get some stupid injury that’ll hurt his chances at the rest of his races. He still has a long Games ahead of him, and it wouldn’t do to get hurt and have to sit something out.