the_lioness | (no subject)

After a minute or two, Peter walks out. He's wearing a loose shirt and dark pants that he obtained from the bar - he actually lets himself get these things, now that he can afford it. Although even if he couldn't, for this occasion? He'd have found some way to dress how Teacher said.

An odd grin on his face, he approaches Alanna when he spots her - wondering if she'll hear him before he greets.

*Hearing his footsteps, she cocks her head to the side but does not tear her eyes from the lake.*

You are prompt, Peter. I like that.

*With one last glance at the water, she turns around. Her frown quickly morphs into a grin as she beholds his attire. She gives him an approving nod and walks over to him. Stopping a few feet away, she rolls her shoulders and eyes Peter*

Are you sure you want to learn, Peter?

And there's his answer. No pulling anything over on Alanna - not that he's going to have a lack of trying if they keep training. Gotta see if you can beat the teacher, eh?

When she starts to walk over, he straightens up his posture and tries to look more 'proper'. It's an entirelly unconscious thing - if he was aware of it, he wouldn't even be sure why he's doing it. Maybe it's an affect of the whole situation on his mind...

"Yes." He states firmly. He hadn't been sure at first, but now...

*Alanna grins, placing one hand on Peter's shoulder and looking into his eyes.*

We will begin slowly. First of all, it is always important to stretch before either practice or fight. Your muscles respond more quickly and accurately if you take the time to limber them up beforehand.

*With this, she nudges his shoulder and directs him to a bare patch of grass. Smiling with encouragement, she crouches down and begins stretching, expecting him to follow suit.

"Stretch... right..." Something has caught Peter off balance, but damned if he knows what it is. Having no time to ponder upon things that escape him, he attempts to merely push it away and follow her cue with the stretching.

*Alanna watches Peter's face as he follows her lead, looking for any early signs of arrogance or a determination to best his teacher. His eyes reveal nothing of the sort and she quietly approves of the way his motions flow one into the other, indicating an innate awareness of his own body and a grace necessary to sword fighting. Smiling, she leads him through the last of the stretches. They stand a few feet apart, facing each other.*

Well done, Peter. You wouldn't believe how many first time students find even the stretching of long underused muscles challenging. You will be sore tomorrow, to be sure, but not so much as say, Thom, should he choose to partake in a lesson. *snickers * Don't repeat that.

*She turns to the tree and retrieves the broomstick handle.*

You will train with this first. I realize it is not very glamorous, but I do not want you to inadvertently slice off an ear. Val would not be pleased with me.

An earlier Peter, or even quite possibly a Peter -now- but with a different teacher, might contain some of that determination. A good thing he's not being taught by a different teacher then, eh?

However, even so, he's going to be -Peter-, and have a bit of sarcastic humour to this.

"Are you sure?" Is all he inquires about the comment about Val, resisting the urge to snicker as he takes the broomstick.

*Alanna's lips twitch, but she manages to control the mirth and give Peter a stern look.*

I aim not to find out. Now, hold the part with the bandages. *indicates the end wrapped in white linen strips.* Hopefully, the linen will hold and offer you a decent grip. It would have been wrapped tighter, but I recently had need of a few bandages and these are naught but the scraps. *looking slightly unnerved, she lowers her eyes to where his right hand grips the broomstick* Good. Keep your fingers light on the hilt, do not squeeze. Yes, that's perfect.

*Alanna grabs her sword, checks his grip again and moves to his left side. She gives Peter a reckless grin.*

Are you ready? I want you to mimic my movements to the best of your ability. Do not worry about your form so much as growing comfortable with your blade -- or stick -- and try to wield it as an extension of your arm.

*She narrows her eyes in concentration and begins taking Peter through some elementary sword exercises, slowly but with great control.*

Peter narrows his eyes a bit at her discomfort about bandages; he wonders what happened, but before he can inquire she moves on. He tucks the question off to the side for quick retrieval when there's a time.

He follows the sword exercises awkwardly, showing the clear signs of 'beginner'. His mind wanders from time to time, to the question; but he does his very best to keep it on track.

*Alanna continues to watch Peter out of the corner of her eye. She cringes as he executes a move that, had he been using a real sword, would have severed his hamstring. Alanna stops, her sword tip resting on her boot.*

Do that last drill again.

*Peter complies, once again whacking his thigh with the broomstick. Alanna tilts her head, watching his arm in motion. Her eyes light up as she identifies the problem.*

Mithros, Peter, I apologize. It's your wrist. Keep it straight here, and then bend it... when you do this. *She eyes him as he imitates her example.* Right.

Let's work on your stance. Move this leg *lightly taps his right thigh* back. Yes. It's important to remain light on your feet. All the upper body strength in the universe will not aid you if you have lousy footwork. A fight can be won or lost based on quick feet and a sure stance.

*Alanna gives Peter a quick smile and exhibits the stance. Holding her sword high with two hands, she pivots her body slightly and looks at Peter over her shoulder.*

This is the sideways guard position. I prefer to start my fights this way. My opponents tend to mistake caution for weakness, and that works to my advantage.

Oy. Mistakes already. But Peter doesn't get too bad on himself for them: it'd be foolish, considering one isn't going to pick this up in a day.

Peter follows her cue, all the while marvelling at the idiocy of those who make that common mistake. Caution is never weakness; when used in too large of a dose, it's just being put into a fool's practice.

*Alanna lets him continue with the drill for a few moments before holding up her hand for him to cease. Nodding with approval, she stands in front of him and once more studies his eyes. Apparently pleased with what she sees, she glances down at Werewindle, raising the sword so that she can see the bar's reflection in the blade.*

You move well, Peter. Your grip needs work, but I think we might make a swordsman out of you yet. *She looks up and hands her sword to Peter. Her eyes tell him that she doesn't just hand her blade over to anyone.*

Take a few swings with that. See how it feels. Just... don't do that one side cut. Please.

*She watches Peter, wondering at his quiet determination.*

Why did you agree to train with me, Peter? Is there someone you wish to fight?

Peter is taken aback by this offering; he doesn't even attempt to try to show he's taking it in stride, because considering this is obviously something unusual for her... well, that would be insulting.

He takes the sword, weighing it in his hands before trying anything. It feels odd, different. Not that he hasn't held one before. He just hasn't ever used one.

Of course, it's different from the stick, he'd expect no less. And trying to do a few hesitant things with it work differently, too.

When he's done, he glances at her, not sure what to say to her question. Why had he agreed? Why was he doing this? No simple question, no simple reaction, unless you just settled for because. But there's more behind it, more reasoning... just none he can really put into words, even begin to understand for himself. "I'm not sure." He admits. "It seems... it seemed..." He trails off. "Well, you enjoy it..." And maybe there's that, in the end: if she enjoys something so much, as was put so obvious by all her moves in that fight, maybe he just wanted a taste of it as well.

*Alanna beams, her eyes never leaving his grip on the sword as he swings it around in hesitant movements. He finishes and several moments go by before she tears her eyes away from the sword. Looking up, she quietly regards his face as he speaks. Laughing at his answer, she walks toward him and reaches out for her sword.*

I do enjoy it, mostly because I was no good with a sword at first. *grins* This sword and all it entails represent a tremendous obstacle I had to overcome, a weakness I would not tolerate.

*She walks over, holding her hands out to Peter to display the hard calluses and scars*

These are not a lady's hands, Peter, but I'm proud of each and every mark on them.

And upon seeing them, he's tempted to ~~tell her they're beautiful anyway~~ not just look but touch ~~tell her how amazing she is that she did all of~~ hold those hands for just a moment -- and it's the first time anything's bubbled up from beneath the surface, the first time he's gotten any sort of hint of how he might feel in places he's not aware of, and it's quickly pushed away, left aside, but not forgotten...

Not forgotten.

Confused as hell, but shrugging it off, he looks up at her. "Or maybe they're just the marks of a different kind of lady," he notes, an odd smile lifting a corner of his lips.

*Alanna is staring at her palms with a mixture of pride and wounded vanity. Peter's comment makes her jerk her head up and smile almost shyly.*

That's the nicest thing anyone has said to me in quite some time. Thank you. *Flustered, she folds her fingers in and drops her hands to her sides. Grinning, she races over to the tree and sheathes her sword. Grabbing a long stick, she approaches Peter with a playful look in her eye.

Ready to take on an opponent?

And Peter is unsure of what to say, caught between his feelings of distinct gladness, his feelings of unsurety, and this whole big mess of something that he can't even get into. And so, there's a tinge of relief to his laugh that comes at this. "Sure, if you don't mind that my style might be more like a caveman beating things down than the a swordsman."

*grins recklessly* Even a caveman has to start somewhere. Besides, style evolves over time.

*Alanna approaches Peter, swishing the stick back and forth. She circles him, her eyes trained on the broomstick handle in Peter's hands. Taking a deep breath, she embraces the welcome rush of adrenaline and waits for Peter to do something. She raises her eyes to his, silently daring him to attack and loving the sheer exhilaration she gets from even a fake fight.*

It's your move, Peter. *smirks*

Peter raises an eyebrow, keeping an eye on her. Caution... he knows she employs cautioun, she already told him that. Something he is sure will help him out later; not in this fight, but another one. This one? Getting to know the system, getting to know her style, and getting the pants beaten out of him.

Fun times.

After a moment, he tests the waters by thrusting the stick a bit forward at her.

*Alanna easily bats his broomstick aside and quickly counter attacks. Moving quickly, she advances, determined to make Peter react without thinking first. Peter's eyes narrow as she moves steadily forward, forcing his muscles to remember the drills before his brain had time to analyze his technique. He manages to parry a few times before she gains the upper hand and lightly thrusts her stick against his chest.*

*Grinning* Not bad. *she lowers the stick and steps forward, looking into his eyes.*

How does fighting make you feel?

Peter stares back at her, half taken aback by what just occured, and half by something he can't even figure out.

"It feels..." He trails off, pausing to try to sort out word, before a small grin lights. "Very interesting."

Interesting? Come now, Peter! Surely you can do better than that? *Alanna circles Peter, grinning madly* It should make you feel alive, determined and to some extent, serene. Never let fear cloud your judgment. Consider each fight a job that must be completed and approach it in a resourceful fashion.

*Sobering, Alanna halts and stares at Peter with stormy eyes.* That being said, one must never delight in either an opponent's suffering or an outright kill. All that separates a knight from a murderer is the knight's conscience and supreme sorrow at having to take another's life. *shakes herself* Er, not that you will be faced with having to kill someone. I hope.

"I hope not as well." The thought makes Peter's eyes dark; it shows him the reality of this situation. This isn't just to learn what Alanna loves... it's to learn something that might help him or a friend one day.

It's something that makes him dangerous, and if he gets good enough, he'll have to keep checks on himself to protect others.

With that thought in mind, he asks quietly, "How do you deal with it?" Not processing that she can't hear his thoughts.

*Alanna watches Peter's eyes darken and a flicker of concern flashes across her face. His question obviously catches her off guard. Biting her lower lip, she slowly backs away and sits down near her discarded tunic. Absently kneading a patch of soft grass with her fingers, she glances up at Peter with expressive eyes.*

It never gets easier, I can tell you that. *sighs wearily, running a hand through her messy hair* Duty, loyalty and honor all take over in the heat of battle. I learned that during the war with Tuisane. The need to defend my homeland swamped me and guided my sword. It was only later, after the blood was gone and the dead cleared away, that it sunk in. All those lives lost... *trails off*

*wryly* Then there was Roger. After I killed him, the first time mind you, my peace of mind suffered greatly. Despite all the evidence against him, I spent long, restless nights wondering if I had done the right thing. He was the King's nephew, a member of the royal family I swore to protect. Although I will never admit it to his face, Thom did me a small favor by bringing Roger back. Roger once again proved himself evil. I was able to see, once and for all, that my actions were justified. *smirks* So I repeated my performance.

*looks up at Peter* You just have to learn to trust your instincts and make recompense for the lives you take in any way you can. That's why I try to use my healing gift as much as possible.

Peter is silent for moments after this, unsure of what to say. Alanna... she'd been through all that. She had survived. He's even more impressed than he was before.

He even more wishes what Valentine said was true, because if it was... this would be -- ...

"It sounds like you're just the right kind of knight to be trusted." He says finally. "And that being that kind of knight is one of the hardest things in the world."

*Stunned, Alanna gives Peter a measuring look*

You're surprisingly intuitive, Peter. Most people don't think twice about the hardships involved with knighthood. In their eyes, you become your shield, a veritable wall of strength and impregnability. We strive to live up to such expectations, but sometimes... it gets to you.

*Laughingly* Listen to me prattle on self-righteously. *Stands up, dusts herself off and retrieves Werewindle* I think it's safe to say we are done practicing for the evening. Would you let me buy you a drink for being such a good sport about all this?

*Her easy smile quickly mutates into a frown* Incidentally, Peter, do you remember when I told you that Thom's murderer popped into Milliways from time to time? *chews nervously on her bottom lip* He and Roger are one and the same. Should you cross paths with him, perhaps it would be best if you didn't let on that we are friends. *smiles fondly*

Her change of topic says to him that she wants to go onto other matters; so he lets it. He grins a bit. "I'm off duty from now on, so a drink would be... appreciated. But shouldn't I be buying you one?" She is, after all, training him. She's gotta be reinbursed somehow.

He pauses, then, and stares at her. "Wait..."

...It can't be.

It can't.

...

Can it?

"Is there... more than one Roger at Milliways?" He asks slowly.

*Grins* Well, if you insist.

*Alanna turns and starts walking toward the back door. She freezes at Peter's question.*

No, not that I'm aware of. *Aghast, she slowly turns around and stares at Peter.* I take it you've already met him? Mithros, now I really need that drink.

"I..." Peter trails off.

Roger had seemed nice.

Roger had seemed...

-He'd seemed good-!

Peter stares at her, trying to comprehend what he saw before to what she's saying.

"Maybe it's a different one..."

*clears her throat* Perhaps, but chances are it's the same person. Duke Roger of Conte is a master of deception. It's exceedingly hard to see the evil beneath the charm. I imagine it would be difficult to recognize his true nature unless you were clued in by an outside party. *ruefully raises her hand*

Come on, Peter. *She reaches over and tugs on his sleeve* You can tell me all about it inside.

"Alright." Peter concedes to follow her.