The Salle, Monday Morning

[bitchprince]

It was Monday morning, and Arthur was not about to let one little sorceress (or one not-so-little guilt complex) keep him from running the morning's training. Besides, Lady Alice might well come 'round, and now that the injury was nearly healed he needed to get as much training in as he could.

So he strode into the salle as he always did, his eyes locked on the practice blades. Time for work.

[[ open salle, kids. and now in the right comm! ]]

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[blondecanary.livejournal.com]

Dinah was just picking up her bag with the eskrima sticks in it, having finished her early workout despite the bruises and soreness from the day before. The worst was the one on her jaw, but that didn't mean she couldn't practice.

She heard the door open and grimaced, mad that she hadn't made her exit before Arthur got there.

[bitchprince]

A passing glance made the bruises quite clear.

For an instant, some part of Arthur cursed the universe for unfairness as well as bloody annoying timing. Cue a mental argument about simply ignoring her or speaking up to make the situation clear that was both epic in its scope (vast) and in its time taken (little).

"Dinah," he said at last.

Formally.

Funny how he wasn't actually looking at her.

[blondecanary.livejournal.com]

Well, she'd gotten a name out of him. Even if he wasn't looking at her. Dinah could feel her face heating up, and gripped the straps of her bag extra hard. "Arthur." She stared at him a second longer, then blew out a breath. Too much to say. No idea how to say it.

"Salle's yours. I'm done."

[bitchprince]

"I wanted you to know you've no harm to fear from me," Arthur said, as he paced idly towards the practice blades. Utterly in control. "Unless you hurt someone else." Which he doubted.

[blondecanary.livejournal.com]

Dinah opened her mouth, then shut it, caught off-guard that he'd said anything else at all to her, much less that. She frowned, watching him. "I wasn't worried about that." Maybe she should have been, objectively speaking. She just couldn't imagine Arthur actually trying to hurt her. Maybe that sounded arrogant instead of agreeing, though. "I mean, I didn't think you would."

The second phrase sank in, and she froze. "What?"

[bitchprince]

"Don't worry, with your backswing I doubt it's likely," he muttered. Before he caught himself.

None of that, now.

"Camelot law forbids associating with sorcerers." Arthur picked a blade.

[blondecanary.livejournal.com]

Dinah rolled her eyes at the backswing comment, caught in their normal back-and-forth for a second. "I'm working on it. I've got the hang of the wrist now..." Then she paused, fingers tightening again.

"I'm not. A. Sorceror." Because that was the point to hit on. Although she wasn't sure what would be the correct point. "Forget it. Did you even hear anything I said last week?"

[bitchprince]

"Loud and clear."

He gave the air a little practice jab with the weapon. Although her backswing meant very little, if you counted her powers.

Part of him was worried- another part was asking any number of rambling questions about range-accuracy-efficiency-damage.

"I don't care what you call it." It's still treason. "These are incredibly dangerous forces you're throwing around like an idle thing."

[blondecanary.livejournal.com]

"I'm not!" Because Arthur could talk about laws and Dinah being illegal all he wanted, and she couldn't counter that with anything but that's just stupid, Your Royal Highness so better not to say anything about it. But irresponsible? "I've been practicing with Professor Atreides just about every week since I got here so I can get control of this. Telekinesis doesn't exactly come with an instruction manual. You think I don't know how much I could hurt somebody if I wasn't careful?" She clenched her jaw, remembering bottles rattling around Barbara's lab months earlier, before she'd wised up to how careful she had to be. "I know way better than you do. And it's the last thing I want."

[not_in_the_book]

Ronan was stiff and sore from Fight Club the night before, so he'd decided that the best way to work out the kinks was with some sword practice.

Rather than his own sword, at least for now, he'd grabbed a practice sword -- one a little on the heavy side -- and was striking at a dummy. His form wasn't, perhaps, great, but neither was it woeful. It was maybe even intermediate-level.

[bitchprince]

It looked horrid, if you asked Arthur, who cast the man a glance in his passing. Having sized up that much, he returned to work on his own dummy. The last remnants of what trouble the injury could give him were still somewhat throwing off his movements, but they were quickly starting to smooth back out into his usual edge.

Good.

[not_in_the_book]

Ronan finished off the warm-up routine, taught to him what seemed aeons ago, and took a moment for a breath. Seeing the other man, and his much higher level of skill, Ronan resolved to work a little harder at the routine, focusing even more on his form.

There was improvement, in fact; it hadn't been sloppy before, not unless you were judging by Arthur's standards, but this was visibly improved. Although still nowhere near the level of skill Arthur was showing off.

[bitchprince]

To be fair, Arthur's idea of 'decent swordsperson' came down to 'could survive two minutes in a fight with me'.

He was kind of an arrogant bastard that way. Lancelot had been the only one to really beat him at swordcraft at any time during the past three years.

He finished off his own drill with a sharp go at the neck, then stepped backwards. Better, but still not quite knight material, his tactical brain whispered in its autopilot.

[not_in_the_book]

Even at his best, Ronan probably wouldn't have been what Arthur would consider knight material, and he was still somewhat out of practice. At the same time, he'd never had to rely on it solely.

Ronan did notice that he was being watched, and it made him push that much harder through the end of the drill. He was breathing a little hard as he held the last pose a moment before relaxing, and he used the time it took to return the practice sword to its place to recover his wind.

"Hey," he said, with a smile directed at Arthur. "You look like you've been doing that a lot longer than I have."

[bitchprince]

"I do," Arthur agreed, paying his usual respects to modesty. Which was to say none at all. "And I did, no doubt."

He raised his chin at Ronan's sword once - "It's the arm," he said, helpfully, then turned his attention back to his own practice sword.

[not_in_the_book]

"The arm?" Ronan asked, as he moved over to the weapons locker. Practice swords were good for dummies, but there was nothing that had quite the balance or weight of his own sword, so it worked best when he was doing forms. "How so?"

He pulled his sword out of the locker, unsheathed it; he gave it a test swing, reacclimating himself to its heft, its spin, before moving to an open space on the mats to start with an easier form.

[bitchprince]

Arthur had to get settled back into the pattern of training while wearing his chainmail. Soon. "You're holding it just a bit," he started, and that was when the sword caught his eye.

The words did you enchant that? spooked through his mind, but over a month of Fandom found him, mercifully, keeping his mouth shut for once. But wary; his eyes widened a little, and his practice sword came up the slightest bit before he halted the motion.

[notyourpawn.livejournal.com]

Generally, Alice arrived at the Salle later than her companions, because she did insist on having a spot of breakfast. Although today she seemed to be earlier than she'd expected, as Arthur was alone.

And pummeling a practice dummy quite viciously, for that matter.

"Highness," she called, executing a quick curtsy. "My apologies if I kept you waiting."

[bitchprince]

He ceased his pummeling on that, retreating back into something more like composure. "Your Highness," he returned, turning 'round. "It's been a wait, but it's one I've survived."

With that, Arthur wandered towards the practice weapons. ...He hoped Alice wasn't going to spring anything about magic at him as well, because although he had his patience, it was running distinctly thin.

[notyourpawn.livejournal.com]

"A pity myself and your other trainee are equally tardy," she frowned. "Shall we start in her absence, or would you prefer to wait?"

[bitchprince]

"Dinah won't be joining us today," Arthur said, firmly, pulled out a blade and tested it. "Best start you light." He turned the blade around, and offered it.

After a pause, he added, "You're not a witch, are you?"

By now, it seemed to make sense to check up front.

[notyourpawn.livejournal.com]

She took the blade hesitantly, watching him. Bits of her conversation with Leto the day before floated back to her.

"No," she said solemnly. "I have experienced things that I cannot explain, but to my knowledge, there was no magic involved. I am only myself."

[bitchprince]

"'Strange trails', as Lady Blysse put it," Arthur agreed. He considered her expression for another moment- "All right, then."

He turned. "Match my stance," he said, as he slipped into one, holding his blade firmly, ready.

[notyourpawn.livejournal.com]

She mirrored his position, her own blade steady.

"Would I be unwelcome here, were I to be a witch?" Alice asked. There was no malice, only curiosity. "I'm not changing my previous answer. Only wondering why it is that you asked."

[bitchprince]

The lack of malice was what made Arthur answer honestly. "It may have complicated things," he admitted, "But that's hardly why we're here. Straighten your arms out a bit- you've got the idea of it."