fandomhighdorms | The Salle, Monday Morning

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The Salle, Monday Morning

The lack of classes meant Arthur would be spending more time in the salle than usual (if that was even possible), and he hadn't wasted too much time getting there that morning. His arm was coming along nicely, and so he took a practice blade for his left.

Might as well get some simple drills in while he waited.

[[ and open, but mild sp warning ]]

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Dinah grinned when he came in, but didn't stop her exercise. "Hey, Ben! Glad to be done with classes?"

Footwork, always gotta be careful with the footwork, left, right, forward.

Not particularly. Ben liked having something to fill his days. "Sort of?" he said, trying not to sound lame.

Dinah grinned, then tilted her head. "No? You liked this semester's?" Careful, careful cut downward, and block upward. "Or just not a fan of summer?" He could really burn bad with that skin. Step, step.

"I'm losing friends at graduation," he said with a self-conscious shrug.

"Yeah, me too. Even if I've only known them a semester, it sucks." Dinah looked momentarily bummed. "My roommate, especially. It's got to be rougher on you, though, knowing them longer." She wanted to ask if they could keep in touch, but she had at least learned that much, that that wasn't a question you ought to ask.

Ben nodded, trying to come up with a way to shift the subject before he looked like a complete killjoy.

"Your footwork is getting better."

"Really?" Which had Dinah stopping and looking at them for a second, then re-starting and beaming at Ben. "You think so? That's always the hardest part for me. When I'm not doing hand-to-hand, I mean. It's easier when it's kicking and punching, I don't know why."

"Because it feels like you're supposed to be moving your feet then?" Ben asked. "Swordfighting is more like a dance."

Dinah thought about that, then nodded slowly, as she went on, ultra-conscious of her footwork. "Yeah. Rhythm helps, if I move them with the sword, the way you're supposed to, but it's not instinctive, the way it is with the sparring hand-to-hand." She grinned at him, and slipped into her newest drill. "You do know a lot about this, don't you? Arthur said you did." And had even recommended him as a replacement teacher, if he had to go home to Camelot. Dinah hadn't quite believed it; it was one thing to be good at swordwork, another to be able to teach it. Ben seemed actually conscious of it, though, and able to explain it.

"He said that?" Ben looked pleased. "It's seems fairly instinctive to me," he continued. "Your arm goes out like this, so to keep from falling over, your foot would move here." He demonstrated. "And to make sure you don't get cut through the stomach, your other arm moves here." He grinned. "Then you speed it up about a thousand times."

"Oh, sure, easy," Dinah snickered, then imitated him. Only not sped up a thousand times. "The arm-work, yes, the footwork-- well, you saw." She sighed, then did it again, and again. "I'll get it," she vowed. "How old were you when you started?"

"Ten," Ben said, "but I wasn't really disciplined about it until I was thirteen and I dueled my father. He beat me without having to turn on his lightsaber. I realized then that I had a lot of work to do."

Dinah tried to imagine that, and felt like she was missing a step somewhere. "Your dad beat you at dueling, without even using a lightsaber?" she checked, eyes wide. "Wow."

She tried to think if Helena could do that against her with eskrima, and glumly realized she could. Even though Dinah was getting better. It took a lot longer to lose, these days.

"He barely had to move his feet," Ben said, cheeks flushing. "He does now, though. So does my grandfather, and they are pretty much the best who have ever held a lightsaber." He grinned. "I think my dad could beat Granddad. And the sulking would probably be epic."

"Whoa," Dinah said, half-hoping she'd get to meet Ben's dad someday, because seriously? How many super-high-level fencing or Jedi masters would she ever get to meet? And the comment about his grandfather made her grin. "Isn't your grandfather getting old by now, though? I mean, wouldn't he expect that your dad would be better than him these days?" The idea of a pouty old guy swordmaster was just too funny, although she kind of thought Ben had to be joking. "Is this Mister-- Master Skywalker? The one Tahiri's mentioned? Or your other grandfather?" She'd remember that Masterfirst sometime, darnit.

"Here my grandfather is in his twenties," Ben said. "Time messiness. Dad's older than him by a bunch. And yes, he's Master Skywalker. Dad's Grand Master Skywalker, which means Dad would also outrank him. Back in my galaxy, Granddad's been dead for more than fifty years."

Dinah have him a plaintive look. "Ow," she joked, then tried to parse that back. "So, you're... from fifty years in your grandfather's future? Or even more? Since he's not dead, here. And your dad's-- okay, that makes sense, your dad's in his thirties or forties or something. Got it." She paused, and looked disturbed. "Does your grandfather know, or guess, I mean, about him dying in a bit?" That had to be way awkward for Ben."And Grandmaster, hunh?" And she'd thought she'd had stuff to live up to, yeesh.

"My dad's in his sixties," Ben said with a wry smile. "And I don't talk to my grandfather about his future. Or to Tahiri or Jaina about theirs. It can mess things up in a major way."

"Tahiri said you were from a different one, right." Dinah remembered that now, that there was a baby Ben back in her galaxy. She hadn't known that her friend Jaina was from yet another timeline. "I think talking about it would be the most confusing thing ever. Holy cow." She paused though, thinking. "Isn't it cool, though, to know your grandfather here, when you couldn't there?" Sometimes she *still* asked dumb questions. Or maybe it was just that wish to have any kind of biological family to know about.

"It's definitely interesting," Ben said. "It's hard to believe that I'm getting trained by Anakin Skywalker, and it's been going on all semester. He's a bit of a legend at home."

Understatement. Ben was good at it.

"Cool," Dinah said, happy for him. She grinned, then shook her head, thinking about that, reminded of the guy she'd met at CopCon. And the superhero teasing her after she asked questions. They'd known a different Dinah Lance though. Maybe? "I met someone from my maybe-future. He knew a way older me. We weren't sure if it was me-really-me, or another me, or ... Time travel makes my head hurt. That sounds like one of the neater reasons for it, though."

Ben shrugged a shoulder. "It's best not to think too much about the future," he said. "Trying to making something come true because it sounds neat can be as much of a disaster as trying to stop something from happening because it sounds awful."

Then he blushed. "Sorry. Jedi thing. Some of us can see the future and that tends to bite us in the rear more often than not."

"No, that makes sense," Dinah agreed, switching to low blocks and slower swings, her muscles starting to tire a little. "I mean, Professor Atreides said the same thing to me, 'cause people in her family can do that if they work on it. She's never really wanted to." She bit her lip, and added, "I have dreams. Sometimes. Not precognitive, though, just clairvoyant. Friends in trouble, that kind of thing. And, well. It sound like you can't pick and choose what you see of the future." She gave him a searching look. "Does that make me smart or just chicken? Not wanting to look too hard?"

"Smart," Ben said firmly. "My father can see the future. So can my grandfather. Neither of them have ever been happy with what they've seen."

Which was a relief to hear from someone else who ought to know. "Good. It's been a while since I've had a dream like that. I'd hate to think I should be trying, you know? Professor Atreides said I didn't have to. Which helps." She tilted her head. "You don't see the future, hunh?"

The Salle, Monday Morning

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