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The Salle, Monday Morning

Arthur's crappy mood about being caught awake with nothing but his boxers on last night had been slightly mitigated by the clean-up afterward. Not that that was anything like anybody else's business, thank you very much, and don't mention it.

So if he was mellow and not particularly aggressive during his drill in the salle that morning, that could be squarely blamed on Merlin. Instead, he slid smoothly through his forms, waiting for his student to arrive.

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Said student had been amused last night-- not least by spotting Arthur looking grumpy-- but with a Final in only a short period of time, she was less chipper than usual. Plus, it had sunk in that how few of these practices she had left, darnit.

"Hey, Arthur." Not enough tiiiime! "Knives today?"

"I suppose," Arthur said, evenly, giving his sword a quick twirl to help loosen up some cramped muscles. "If you can manage to hit the target this time."

Reminding herself of Azula's advice made her make a face, then sigh. "Yeah, I know. Head for the range?" She looked around at the salle, trying not to give in to nostalgia. "Sword drill first, though, I think. No slacking."

"It's good to know I've taught you something, then," he said.

He gave the salle a critical glance. "Defensive drill today, a short spar to see how well it sticks. Then the range."

"You taught me a lot." Dinah managed a smirk then. "But not that. I had that down before I got here." She headed over to the swords, picked up one, and did his wrist-twirl before falling into her stance and starting to drill.

"I'm sure you'd like to think so," Arthur said - that wrist twirl was now officially succesfully communicated on to the next generation, good, not that he thought so - and settled back to watch her work.

The amount of corrections he had to give had slowed down to a trickle, but he wasn't about to admit to that himself.

Sadly true. Dinah was so going to teach that wrist-twirl to anyone she eventually taught too, whether it was sticks or knives or swords, for some reason.

"Know so!" Dinah blocked high, low, then the middle of her imaginary opponent, and said, "When we're graduated... you guys are taking off the day after, aren't you?" Because it would be so, if she said it.

No, she didn't pick that up from him either. It just got more obvious. Really.

"We're going to see when the island finally gives up its resistance to our leaving," said Arthur, with more pomp and entitlement than he really felt about it.

"So that's a yes." Dinah pointed her sword at him, trying for stern. "Stay for the parties. And say good-bye before you leave."

For once, he didn't actually roll his eyes. "I'll do my best," he said instead, "And don't just point that at people, for god's sakes, it's a weapon."

"I know. Somebody taught me that." She flashed him a grin and said, "Spar time!"

"Yes, spar time, thank you for reminding me," Arthur said, more than a bit dry, and gave his sword... well, you know what twirl. "Stance." He set his own.

"Stance!" Dinah pushed all future worries aside, set her feet, and held still, waiting. Waaaaaiting....

Arthur attacked suddenly, and without much warning. He struck out at her hip, then moved fluidly into a strike at her shoulder.

Block-dodge! Swerve! And wish like heck that she had the strength of those guys on The Immortal to just swing her blade around like it was nothing. Never mind that she would never have been able to do this last year.

And aim a cut at Arthur's knees, as the blade came back around again.

Well, thsoe 'guys on The Immortal' used swords made out of tinfoil, and Arthur held no truck with that.

He blocked easily, feet sliding out of the way - and didn't kick at her knee, although he had an easy shot at it. Instead, he said, "Knee," and brought his sword up at her chest.

"Gah!" Knee! Always with the knee-- "Whoa!" Okay, that was a sloppy block, even though it was a fast one, and Dinah had to dance back as fast as she could, slicing toward his wrist on instinct.

One thing she'd also learned from Arthur with the swords: no excuses. Just keep moving. Slash!

His wrist which, thankfully, wasn't there anymore - just the steel of his sword. "Sloppy," he judged, gave his sword a spin, and fell back.

"Grrr." Which Dinah gulped down, and then followed up on that falling-back with a mid-range attack, and then attempting to stomp his foot.

Hey, it was tradition.

Merlin was in a bloody fantastic mood, though. See him smile so. Smile, Merlin! Smile like an utter loon!

"Try to ensure your face doesn't fall off," Arthur said, eventually. Though really, he couldn't be too harsh about it.

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The Salle, Monday Morning

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