Born on the nightfall of a tragedy, raised with the weight of power and expectations over her shoulders, Elaenora Arryn knew her fate could not be written by the Seven, but only by herself.
Carrying the blood of both the murderer and the murdered i...
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« Where there is love, there is pain »
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"Pick the training sword of your liking, my lady," Ser Criston intervened, rubbing his hands to warm them in the fresh morning weather and grabbing his preferred training weapon. "Make sure you choose one that adjusts to your height and arm length. Your weapon must be one you can wield comfortably."
Elaenora nodded, obedient, and ran her eyes over the different training swords displayed on the weapon rack. It was very early in the morning, and the yard was empty except for Ser Criston, herself and a couple of servants going back and forth. The crisp air was somewhat distracting, but Nora forced herself to concentrate on the task. Some swords looked heavy, long and regal, designed for those of tall and strong shape. Others were aesthetically pleasing to the eye, carefully handcrafted with intricate details and engravings. And the last ones were simpler and lacking in length and weight but not any less useful.
Despite her eyes fixing on those of beautiful crafting and elegant decor, Nora ended up choosing a light sword with a shorter blade since it felt the most comfortable in her hands. She turned to face Criston, showing him her pick and waiting for his approval.
The knight's lips curved with an approving smile, "Nice pick, my lady. Prince Aemond's sword is a very proper choice for you as well. Shall we begin then?"
Standing firmly, Elaenora nodded and wielded the sword in her hand, attempting to imitate the posture she had seen on knights and guards before. But Ser Criston did not seem pleased with her stance.
"Open your feet wider, distribute your weight and make sure you feel light enough," he commanded, already treating the young Arryn girl as any other of his apprentices. "Bend your knees slightly for freer motion."
Immediately, Elaenora obeyed and Criston continued giving her directions and instructing her in swordsmanship. Seeing the potential in the Lady's movements surprised the knight positively — despite being somewhat lumber and inexperienced, her persistence and determination made Cole feel content with accepting her as an apprentice.
"T'is an excellent start, my Lady," Cole stated. "If you continue this path, no man's strength will be able to overthrow your ability. Wielding a sword and being a good fighter requires more knack than force."
"Do you think I could become a worthy opponent for the boys?" Nora questioned, with her voice sounding quite breathless and whispery due to the effort. She stared at Criston with a serious expression, seeking complete honesty from him, no sugarcoating.
"In due time, I do not see why not. The princes have been training for longer, but your results are promising for a first time," the knight gave her a gentle nod. "Besides, there are some fighting techniques I use that I haven't shared with them since they belonged to our common ancestors, the Rhoynar and the Dornish."
