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The Salle, Monday Morning (before classes)

Being bruised and battered from the previous night wasn't going to stop Arthur from running his training early. He was, however, careful not to do anything too straining for either his warm-up or his own drills; not slacking off didn't mean pushing yourself to the brink of human endurance like an idiot.

His practice blade cut good time through the air regardless. His muscles stretched and screamed along with the motions - which was only familiar, really.

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"Never mind." Dinah kept the eye-rolling out of his view, and planted herself in first practice position. "Forget I mentioned it." Was it wrong to remember him getting pounded with a tiny bit of satisfaction? Probably. First position. Second position. Third position. Back-swing. "Glad you weren't too injured."

The weight training had started to pay off; a month's worth of reps had strengthened her muscles to where she could do the drills at normal speed now, without her arms shaking.

He'd gone up against a far stronger opponent and gotten a few good punches in. There was no shame in that, nor satisfaction to be had, if anyone asked Arthur. He'd just have to figure out how to take Sir Minsc down on the next attempt - or enlist him. Either way.

Arthur didn't like being beaten, but all it meant was that he'd just have to be better next time.

"I see you've given up on flailing like a chicken," he said, watchful as always. "We might move you up to something actually challenging next week."

He was still a little unsure on the exact dynamics they were labouring under, but he wasn't about to let that show. Firm and in control would have to be it.

Dinah was equally unsettled, but wasn't about to show it either. And not-insults from Arthur were almost the same as compliments from someone else.

"Ooo. Like what?" Don't bounce! There might have been a little more zing in the forms, though, and a tiny smile of concentration. New stuff! More cutting! Something even more useful, so that maybe when the next attack happened (hopefully not soon?) she could actually help more.

"Like defense," he said, "Stabbing the air alone isn't going to preserve your life." You know. Where they'd left off before the whole-- thing.

Arthur pursed his lips and simply watched, his own training blade hanging by his side. He had questions, many questions, but asking any of them seemed like just that inch more of betrayal. He'd have to chew on it.

Dinah didn't notice that. Arthur was good at covering, after all. But she did speed up her drill a bit. See? She could do this! And questions never were a problem for her, even with the Prince of Awkward.

"So if-- when I get a shield," she corrected herself. "I can start learning how to do both? Or more sparring with Alice before that?" She frowned, carefully working her way through the backswing. "Or sword and dagger, if you're here long enough." Because yeah, he might still disappear at any moment. Her mouth turned down in a pout at that.

"You don't need a shield to defend yourself," he said, picking up a seemingly leisurely pace around her as she worked, "Although it's certainly a vital part of your training. Basic blocking first. Sparring Alice will help you get a feel for it."

That got him a frown, then a nod. Dinah went back to concentrating on the drill, arms in the right place, and carefully working through the footwork. Not a dance, but similar. Right side. Left side.

It did make her think of something that needed to be addressed though. And since he was actually talking to her again, it was probably a good thing to ask. "If you go back to Camelot before I graduate, do you know a good person to take over my training?" High, middle, low blocks. "Since it's more likely than not." Or so it seemed like to her, anyway.

And here Arthur was still carefully negotiating his own role in his training. Despite his reluctance to actually answer, he did think about it. Reno? He was graduating this year. Leto? He had his head too far up in the clouds, and while a good friend, would most definitely push things in the wrong areas. One of the Jedi, perhaps, but he thought Jaina was leaving as well.

"Squire Ben might be able to," he said, grudgingly. Certainly, he was a squire, but he was dedicated. Still, Arthur was loath to actually hand out his training to anyone else.

Even if it was Dinah. "Keep your mind on your hands."

Dinah would have stuck her tongue out at him for that and stomped off. Good thing she had no idea. "I've seen him spar with Tahiri." A slow careful cut in front of her, eyes front. "He's gone a lot, according to Radio. But still. Seemed like a good kid. Skilled."

Several minutes of silence as she concentrated, arms starting to feel the burn, mind on her hands.

"Edward offered. I'm sure he's a good swordsman. He's good at everything else. Don't know if he'd be able to train me, though." Part of being Edward seemed to be being good at everything, automatically. So could he actually explain stuff? Impossible to know.

From what Arthur had been able to tell, Prince Edward had about two brain cells to rub together, if not less, but out of respect to his fellow royalty he didn't in fact say so.

He wasn't subtle enough to keep a momentary look from passing over his face and communicating some shadow of that sentiment, though. "Squire Ben is dedicated," he said, "and diligent. You could do worse. I've never spoken to Prince Edward."

Edited 2009-03-23 16:00 (UTC)

Dinah hummed in agreement about Ben, then frowned again, thinking about Edward. "Edward might go back unexpectedly too, I guess. He's got an evil stepmother to fight." A slash upward, and the drill was complete. "Although I think he's starting to like it here." And was dating Adora, so hopefully she was wrong. "I'll ask Ben, if Tahiri thinks he's up to it. Just in case." She gave Arthur a look back. Go on. Say it. I dare you.

She took a breath, then turned to face him. "Eskrima now?" Since Alice wasn't there yet.

Edited 2009-03-23 16:05 (UTC)

And to finish that chain of looks, she got a blank, imperious one in return, one that implied that whether or not he decided to say it (which he wouldn't, because his pedigree was better than that) was not in any way influenced by her opinion, and she'd best get hip to that fact.

"Staves," Arthur agreed aloud, rolling his shoulders once before he remembered why that was a Bad Idea. Pause. "...An evil stepmother?"

Getting an eye-roll in return on that, promising that if they were having this argument aloud, she'd so win.

"Mmm. The Queen. Narissa? Narcissa? Anyway. She pushed his fiance' down a well, and she ended up here, so he came here to save her. Giselle." Dinah frowned, and went to put her sword away. "He hasn't had any luck finding her, though. He's looked all over."

She picked up her eskrima sticks, and with more bounce in her step than there had been with the swords, headed for the practice dummy.

The complete lack of acknowledgement she got on that last look, Arthur felt, proved conclusively that she wouldn't and he'd had the last word.

"That must've been very trying; I'll offer him any assistance, should I speak to him."

What? She pushed her down a well? He supposed that with magic, anything was possible. Still, tack that on to the legend of Dim Prince Edward.

"Now, if we're through with you attempting to weasel out from decent training, I'd like you to run a defensive drill."

Yeah, right. Dinah felt she won by default, just because he didn't say anything aloud. Ha!

Not about to object yet again that she wasn't trying to weasel out, she took a breath, and carefully ran through the eskrima defense drill. The weight training had helped here, too. Chicken flailing, ha.

Which wasn't enough to prevent her needing to correct the knee thing. Again.

Nonsense. It'd been his choice to hold his tongue, and saying something would've been more of a defeat than not.

"Knees, Dinah," Arthur pointed out. Like he was going to let that go. "You're leaving your side wide open."

Grrr. Dinah corrected it, slowing down the drill a fraction to make sure it was correct. Chanting the words under her breath. "Cerrado, abierto. Un, dos, siete..." And yet, it was more comforting than not, that at least that much hadn't changed. If he'd started slacking on the training, or only gone through the motions, she would've started throwing things at his head and brought the fight they weren't having out into the open.

No reason to do that, though. Not yet.

What fight? She was a lying sorceress, and she should be grateful that he was willing to teach her at all. For her sake and his. It wasn't her place to question that.

Arthur attempted to ignore how bloody normal the whole thing felt in favour of narrating, bullet point by bullet point, every single little thing that was off in her performance. For the sake of training, so she could be more aware of what she was doing before she internalized any bad habits any further.

See, and if he'd actually said that aloud, the fight would have started with Dinah shouting that she had sucked it up and told him, and it would've gotten flaily and even less coherent from there. If he'd brought up 'places' there would have been stomping out after yelling that there were no places in the 21st Century, so. Just as well.

Although she really could have done without the point-by-point narration. It kept breaking her flow.

Trying to take it as a challenge, she clenched her teeth and started hitting in rhythm of commentary like "higher", "still open" and the like. After a while it was almost fun. Two points for hitting on the beat of each bulletpoint.

At which point Arthur might have pointed out that Reno had had no trouble being up front about it from the start and hadn't actually gotten his head chopped off, and, well, the whole thing would probably degenerate into someone leaving in a huff.

Sometimes, she needed the point-by-point. Break the flow in the right places to make it run better. He stopped when he was satisfied that he'd led her into the right flow, and 'higher' became 'one', 'still open' became 'two', and 'for the love of god, you're flapping again' became 'three'.

Which would have ended in someone else calling someone a boneheaded prat, and pointing out that Reno might have punched him in the mouth by now if he knew Arthur's real opinion of sorcerors, magic, superpowers, and Dinah. So there.

Which served to calm Dinah down sufficiently to get into it again, not smiling but definitely enjoying herself, and remembering that no, this wasn't torture, it was just necessary, and maybe a little tedious the fourth time, but definitely worth it.

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The Salle, Monday Morning (before classes)

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