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The Salle, Monday Morning

It was just a morning like any other, which meant that Arthur was in the salle, going through his forms. He was not particularly looking forward to certain students today, but he wasn't about to let that put him off. So forms, and drills, and work that maybe actually put a strain on his muscles, today.

The recent lack of invasions didn't mean he got to slack.

As per usual, he occasionally threw a look at Merlin across the salle whenever he finished a drill.

[[ open, but on SP today, as I can has new job ]]

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Dinah was still feeling the bruise on her leg, and the soreness of her now-healed but recently-pulped hand, so wasn't entirely sure she could handle a sword today.

But God forbid she give Arthur an excuse to accuse her of slacking. Or, well. Cowardice. They were getting quite the list of stuff they Never Talked About. Thursday's impromptu concert was going on the list.

"Morning. Arthur." Dinah flexed her fingers, and started to move to the practice sword rack with a very dubious expression.

"Morning, Dinah," Arthur answered, then glanced at her. "You look like you're a hungry boar and you're trying to decide whether those swords'll make a nice snack," he volunteered.

Nice, Arthur.

**** Airport. Bored. No Starbucks. Fighting Arthur? ***

Dinah made a face at him, incipient Awkward at least temporarily drowned in the usual annoyance. "Just trying to figure out if my hand's good to actually grip one today." She picked her usual one up, and took a few practice swipes. Maybe, yeah. After she warmed up a bit. Take it real slow. "A boar? Seriously? How many hungry boars have you tried to swipe lunch from, again?"

Dinah stopped at the end of one drill, and pulled out her phone, then tilted her head, texting back:

***Practice first. Hurt Hand. Airport To?***

"None," Arthur said, idly, and gave his own sword an easy swoop between his fingers. "But I've killed many for 'lunch'." Awkward? Arthur Pendragon knew no awkward.

Francine was not texting Arthur because she was bored. She was bored and she was texting Arthur, but there was no connection between the two. Unlike some other people she was texting.

Well, that's what she'd claim if you asked her. She was far enough away right now that no one could tell she was lying by, you know. Looking at her face.

****Hi, Arthur!****

Francine. Don't waste your text messages, Arthur. You're all right?

Manners. Look, look!

"I'll bet." Slow on the drill, focus making everything better, if not at the usual speed. Block, counter, parry; thrust, slice, jab. Her muscles warmed up, making it easier after one repetition. Unfortunately that brought her mind back to, well. The Awkward. Which it looked like she could just ignore? Maybe? If she just didn't look at him? "Quiet weekend?" There, that was normal.

"Quiet weekend," he agreed, easily, swaggering up towards her (it was definitely a swagger). "You're not moving like yours was, however."

Fiona came, of course, feeling both refreshed from yesterday's discussion with Aphrodite and somewhat nervous considering who her lesson was with. She wasn't going to bring it up, but she had an answer if it did, and she desperately didn't want to lose lessons with Arthur on Monday.

She went immediately over to the rack and got her training sword before walking over to him.

Merlin wasn't glancing back at Arthur when he wasn't looking. Really. At all.

So, perhaps they hadn't actually spoken of anything important since that morning. It was disturbing.

"Fiona," Arthur returned, "Still showing up, I see." He kept his tone idle to obscure any real surprise, and nodded at her.

Obviously, with all of this glancing-when-one-party-wasn't-looking going on, eventually, Arthur was going to glance his way while Merlin was glancing his way, and then there would be no hiding the fact that he was, in fact, glancing.

Which was right about... now.

"Of course. You didn't say I shouldn't, so I assumed you would keep teaching me," she said, keeping her head up.

"Though there is one thing I would like you to know."

"And what would that be?"

He was working overtime to keep the what is it now sneer out of his voice. Years of practice ~~being a haughty ass~~ made it so.

"I... didn't mean to vent, to Himura or to Zack. You know I have a temper; I'm working on it. But while I will bring issues I might have to you or the other organizers, I will do my best not to voice them to the reserves at large."

She bowed her head a little, hoping that he'd understand she meant it.

"I don't want to undermine you; I just want to help in the one way I know I can. All right?"

I respect your skill with the sword. Respect my knowledge. Maybe if she kept willing it, he would.

"I understand as much, Fiona," he said, casting her a look that was a little less feigned haughty and a little more serious. "But I am not an idiot, and I have no lack of experience. Nevermind that passing judgement on a conflict that nearly killed many of these people when you weren't even there is a disservice to us and to yourself."

Because that bit had to come out. "But I believe Zack's minding it. I'll speak with him." Which was the line he was willing to give her, considering that his pride still stung a bit in the places it didn't cover as well as he'd like.

Aaaand deer in the headlights look... now. Really, that was just cruel.

Arthur's expression shifted, and he sighed lightly. "Merlin?"

"I passed judgment on what I was told," she said, firm but not argumentative, "and I said nothing to the effect of you lacking experience. I stand by what I said in regards to anyone who dismisses knowledge.

"But if I really thought you were an idiot all the time, I wouldn't care. I wouldn't have come up to you and offered those books. And I wouldn't have come this morning."

Dinah resisted the urge to stab him in the foot for still being cocky. What was it he'd sung again? "Fight Club. I fought Detective-Constable Day." Daisy off-duty and on the mats, but not to Arthur's face, nope. "Got my hand hurt. Ronan healed it but it's still sore." She stopped to flex it again, testing her fingers.

"Then you're quick to pass judgement for someone who claims to put such value on knowledge," he said, simply. Off her last few comments, however, he had to toss in an, "But at least that's something."

He tested the balance of his training sword for a moment (mostly for the sake of looking occupied).

Honestly, if she wanted someone to talk at about the philosophy of tactics all day, he'd volunteer Leto.

Arthur released a mildly irritable sigh. "And can you manage the strain of a sword?" he asked, "Because if you damage your hand, you're no good to anyone."

He liked his students bruised, not crippled.

****Houston. Home for a week. No idea. Possibly Mom lost her mind? Hurt hand how?***

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The Salle, Monday Morning

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