Salle, Thursday Afternoon

[bitchprince]

Without Dinah, getting in a few rounds of practice shouldn't be too hard. Arthur picked a training sword that came a little short of the weight of his own, and picked a dummy. He slipped into his drills with ease, forcing everything else into the background.

It put less of a strain on him now to add some force to his blows, which was entirely welcome. Just a few more weeks, and he should be considered fit enough to return home.

If he did.

With a grunt, Arthur forced that away as well, and nearly took the dummy's bloody head off. If it had one.

[[ open salle! ]]

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[future_sandworm]

He mustn't forget about practising, Leto told himself, and the salle seemed like a good place for interesting cultural exchanges. Perhaps one of the Jedis would be there today?

But instead Leto found Arthur attacking one of the dummys, and he stopped just inside the door, watching.

[bitchprince]

The patterns were ingrained by now. The two-handed blows were impossible, of course, but he'd easily adjusted to a new pattern that he kept to with smooth intent. It still felt good to be able to use the sword, to chase off some of the dawning sense of uselessness that had threatened to encroach on his form.

Arthur became quickly aware of Leto's position, but granted him no greeting yet. If he wanted the salle, he'd leave him be. If Leto wanted to talk, he'd deal with that later.

[future_sandworm]

Clearly he had to be careful not to do anything that would have Arthur start babbling about magic. Leto crossed the room and found a space in the opposite corner. He held the blades up - best not to overdo it today, especially not with other people around. He settled on four.

He swung the blades in the air, and they spun, hovering in the air.

[bitchprince]

Arthur caught something from the corner of his eye, but he was too focused to spend more than an idle 'hm' of a thought on it. Instead, he almost took an arm off the dummy. Alright, maybe it would be a better idea to do this in the open air if he was going to be like this.

Logic. Occasionally, he held it. Right now, he wasn't willing to give in to it.

Okay, maybe he was a little on edge. Still.

[future_sandworm]

Leto glanced at Arthur while the blades hovered, noting the mood he was in. The style of fighting was interesting too, but he had no time to watch now.

The blades headed for him, and during their first round of attack he dodged their paths.

[bitchprince]

There was something funny going on. Arthur paid a moment's attention to the idea of turning around to see what in the name of God Leto was doing. Again, though, he discarded it. God help him, he'd ignore it all unless directly addressed.

He forced a calm into his moves. Probably wouldn't be a smart idea to wreck his right shoulder while he was at this.

[future_sandworm]

The blades came hurling towards him again, and Leto snatched the knives from the floor. Metal clashed against metal, and the blades were spun off course. He drew a deep breath, waiting for the next round.

[bitchprince]

Noise of metal on metal. It was incredibly distracting. Arthur produced an angry noise under his breath and struck the dummy again, subconsciously heading straight for the gut.

[future_sandworm]

And in the last round, Leto used the knives to direct the blades on to the ground. He crouched down, catching his breath. "It seems like there won't be much left of that dummy when you're finished," he called out to Arthur.

[bitchprince]

"It'll live," Arthur ground out, pulling his sword out perhaps more roughly than was strictly necessary.

[future_sandworm]

Leto gathered the blades and grabbed the knived in his other hand, pushing himself off the floor. He watched Arthur, and while he found the style of fighting a little rough, he had no doubt it could be effective. Also, there was an aesthetic appeal to it that had less to do with the drill and more with who was doing it.

He balanced one of the knives in his hand, then hurled it against the same dummy, hitting the heart.

[bitchprince]

Arthur veered aside, instinctively moving his body into a safer position. His eyes trained on Leto. "Nice throw," he said, grudgingly.

[future_sandworm]

"You accused me once of having a bad aim," Leto said cheerfully. "I thought I should prove that that was only due to intoxication." He didn't care much what Arthur thought about his aim, but it seemed like a good way to distract him.

[bitchprince]

"Worst drunken aim in the history of it," Arthur said, but the sarcasm lacked commitment as his eyes flitted from the blade to Leto and back again.

[future_sandworm]

"We should spar once your arm is better," Leto suggested, retrieving the knife. "Also, have you met any of the young Jedis?"

[bitchprince]

Arthur would gnaw off his bloody arm for a decent spar right now. He felt like a caged tiger. "Sir Jaina and squire Ben," he replied instead, and there was a hint of admiration in the way he spoke Jaina's name, even if the prefix tasted oddly in his mouth. "Honourable people, as far as the island sees them."

[future_sandworm]

Leto noted the frustration. "And Tahiri," he said. "Professor Skywalker, my teacher in Ethics, belong to the same order. They fight with swords made of a crystal-generated light." He added carefully: "I would offer a fight now, but I would be a bad friend if I suggested something that would worsen that injury."

[bitchprince]

"Couple more weeks on it," Arthur said, neutrally, even if he was boiling away on the inside. "...Swords made of light, Leto? That sounds a bit..." He searched for a way to put it tactfully. "...insane."

Tact was an artform.

[future_sandworm]

Leto decided that speculating on the workings of the technology for someone like Arthur did not make sense, so he just said: "Ben demonstrated it for me."

[bitchprince]

Arthur.. hesitated.

Jaina hadn't shown herself as anything other than someone to be respected, and likewise for Ben in his younger, more inexperienced fashion. "Was it any good?" he inquired instead, his mind attempting to picture it and failing in part.

[future_sandworm]

"It was. I am sure he would show you too." Leto smiled a little, reaching out to place a hand on Arthur's arm. "But I shouldn't keep you from your practise."

[bitchprince]

"I should ask Jaina," Arthur said. "If I see her again." His eyes may have darted to Leto's hand once, but thought no else of it.

[future_sandworm]

"Why wouldn't you see her again," Leto asked, taking a step back and squeezing his hand while pulling away. He turned to leave.

[bitchprince]

"People lead busy lives," Arthur said, neutrally, and glanced over his shoulder as Leto left. "See if you can't get us some more dates."

And then he'd go back to beating up the dummy some more.

[future_sandworm]

"You have a servant to help you with that," Leto told him. Then he stopped by the door. "I'd like you to meet Ghani."

[bitchprince]

"You know where the dates are," Arthur said, with a shrug, and perhaps a touch of impertinence. He levelled his sword at the dummy again. "Sure."

[future_sandworm]

"With your permission, I'll inform Merlin," Leto smirked. "And I'll take you to see my sister."

[bitchprince]

"That'll be fine," he said, "On both counts."

[future_sandworm]

Leto smiled, half to himself, and disappeared out of the room.