fandomhighdorms | The Salle, Monday Morning

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The Salle, Monday Morning

It was a Monday.

It had been a normal weekend.

Arthur, ergo, was in the salle, practicing his staffwork for once. He did have a battle with Mat due tomorrow ~~which was going to be pushed towards next week due to a sudden case of the fox, SPOILERS~~ and it wouldn't do to show up in anything but perfect fighting shape.

He made for a few impressive sweeps through the air as he practiced, showing off for his (Merlin-y) audience as usual.

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Dinah swallowed, and nodded, brow furrowing. What would help? Getting him off-balance-- but harder to reach him with just a sword. Except-- Right. She switched directions suddenly, a step back, faster than before. Thank God for all that training with Azula, that her speed was improving. What else...?

"Don't let the fact that a sword can cut through a staff get in the way," he instructed, "It's easy to underestimate someone armed with one until they've already disarmed you."

His staff shot out towards her sword-bearing hand. Just lightly. He wasn't putting in his full effort.

Dinah was on guard this time, and slashed out, putting most of her strength behind the return blow, hoping he'd lose his grip. "The staff's longer, but takes more effort to balance, doesn't it?" she asked, eyes still on him, switching directions again, as fast as she could. "Going for the arms is smarter?" Another slash, to test that theory, although she was pretty sure Arthur would block it.

"That would be an effective way of disarming your opponent," he said, dryly, daring back. No blocking.

Dinah made a face at that, but kept both hands on her sword, watching Arthur for an opening. She feinted to the left, then slashed up, striking for his wrists.

With a twitch up of his eyebrows and a winning smirk, Arthur darted away again, making only the faintest motions towards her hands to parry any hint of that.

This was getting annoying. Dinah knew she was missing some opportunity here-- or maybe Arthur was just that much faster? Darnit. She slashed high, then low, trying to figure out what advantage her sword had that a really long stick didn't. "Nuts," she muttered.

Somewhere in between slash-high and slash-low he suddenly darted forward, taking advantage of the open space to lash the stick out at her hand in close proximity, moving fast to try and disarm her on the spot.

We never said he wasn't going to support verbal lessons with physical ones, here.

"Ow ow ow." Dinah kept her grip on the sword, but her left hand was tingling too hard to really do much to support it with that blow. Leaving her with the right hand doing all the work. "Okay, getting it, yes." She lashed out in response, smarting, not thinking, reacting, with a cut towards his knees.

Which meant she was telegraphing.

Arthur's mouth twisted in something not completely happy with that for a moment as he used his staff's position to block again, at the hands, away from the virtual cutting edge, and kicked out at her knee.

The hands took the brunt of it, and Dinah dropped her sword. But she did manage to dodge the kick, speed having improved that much, bouncing away, opening and closing her hands and swearing under her breath, giving her abandoned blade an unhappy look. Frustrated, she glared at Arthur and gritted her teeth. "What am I doing wrong? How does anyone win against a staff? Am I just not fast enough?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, but said, kindly enough, "I'm still several years ahead of you," in reminder. "You do have that cutting edge on your side in a staff fight," he noted, "You just have to be careful not to rely on it, and wait for your opportunities."

"Nnngh. Someday...." Could the next time the island changed her, it do that thing where she was ten years ahead of herself again? "Right." She crouched down to grab her sword, keeping a wary eye on Arthur the whole time. Trickster. Not forgetting that again, no.

She popped up, re-settled her grip, and got on guard again.

Like he'd make a move on her while she was disarmed. He took a few steps back, giving the staff a little swoop as he went, and waited.

Wait for opportunities. Right. Circling. Circling. Much more careful now, sword up on guard, speeding up, looking to see if she could get the right angle....

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The Salle, Monday Morning

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