✓ | TOUGH AS THE IRONWOOD (A.FORRESTER 2)

Evil Like Me. Chapter Nineteen.

The wooden dummy splintered into shattered pieces beneath Cynthia's mace; she'd been at it all morning, venting all the pent up emotions curdling in her stomach, those that had kept her up all night. She'd needed to clear her head, diminish the effect Asher had had on her last night. She needed to beat the crap out of something. She'd gotten up at dawn, having failed to go back to sleep after cleaning Asher's wounds, and since the sun had risen she'd been endlessly battering numerous weapons into a range of different practice dummies all to try and get a level head. 

"One of these days Royland will have you paying for the damage." Mira's enthusiastic voice echoed from the edge of the ring, where she leant - in a typically northern blue dress - against a wooden post, watching Cynthia dance about with her heavy weapon, crashing it into anything she could break. "I'd like to see him try." Cynthia growled, smashing yet another dummy. Maybe Mira was right, she'd broken quite a bit this morning and soon enough they'd have run out and all the guards would be left with nothing to train with. "Why are you up so early?" She asked, panting heavily and wiping a sweaty hand against her equally damp forehead in an attempt to move the clumped hair that had stuck to her skin. "I was hoping I could train with you. I heard you get up is all and-" "You want to train? Have you ever held a sword?" Cynthia chuckled, dropping her mace as she stepped closer to the Forrester girl. "When I was younger, yes-" "When Gregor would have us running about the Great Hall? I don't think that counts." Cynthia continued to smile in bewilderment, "why the sudden interest, anyway?" "I - I don't know how to protect myself; last night reminded me that Asher's always been there to fight my battles, and if not him then Rodrik. I've been in a handful of fights and almost all of them I've gotten out of by pure luck. As you say, I've never held a weapon before; some practice can't do any harm, surely." Mira shrugged, as innocent as ever. "Surely not. Just know, I am not being held accountable when you end up as violent as me. I've already influenced you far too much, and this family couldn't handle the pair of us if you were like it too." Cynthia chuckled easily, handing Mira a dull-bladed sword - which she took uneasily in her dainty grasp; "we'll have to work on that," Cynthia had quipped, noticing the way in which the weapon dangled aimlessly in Mira's hand. 

"Right; I'm going to do this differently to Royland so you'd best keep up." Cynthia stated abruptly taking a step back before she got into the correct stance. "Lesson One: Defence. Royland would argue attack first ask questions later, but that ain't gonna help you in a fight. Stopping someone from hacking into you, in my opinion, is a far more valuable technique." She quipped, her sword rising higher. "I'm going to swing at you; you're going to block me. Alright?" Mira nodded, and so Cynthia took her first swing. It was slow, not nearly as strong as Cynthia was capable of, but it was realistic enough to get Mira used to the way in which fighting worked. Much to Cynthia's surprise the weapon Mira had been holding was now shielding her face, and had successfully blocked Cynthia's weapon from touching her. "Good. Again." Cynthia swung the other way, and once again, much to her disbelief, Mira managed to stop her. "You sure you've never held a sword before?" Cynthia laughed, repeating the rhythm they'd begun with their swords. "I've used a dagger - but that isn't the same, really." Mira stuttered, flailing her sword about in the air and somehow managing to block Cynthia's own in every attempt she'd made. "When have you used a dagger?" Cynthia inquired, spinning her weapon in her hand. "In King's Landing when I-" Mira's sword fell from her grasp, straight into the mud. "When you what?" Cynthia frowned, heaving in a deep breath. "When I was attacked." Mira sighed, wiping at her face. "When you were WHAT?" Cynthia practically screamed; this was the first she'd heard of this, though given Morgryn's track record she wouldn't have been entirely surprised to hear his name come up soon. "Look, it was nothing, just a little-" "I swear to all the gods if you say 'misunderstanding' I'll decapitate you." Cynthia jested, though she wasn't entirely sure that had been an empty threat. She hated that phrase, and if Mira used it to pass off this subject Cynthia would use any means necessary to get the truth out. "It wasn't a misunderstanding; it was a Whitehill man. He was paid off by Ludd, and he heard of me. Ludd wanted him to deal with me, so he came after me." Mira explained slowly, though the tone in her voice still made it sound as though she didn't deem it very important. "What happened to the man?" Cynthia inquired. Mira froze. She looked anywhere that wasn't at Cynthia, and fiddled with the threads of her sleeves in an attempt to distract herself. "Mira..." Cynthia warned, but it didn't take much prying before Mira let it out. "I killed him."

Cynthia didn't quite know how to react to that. Shock, was the initial reaction. Her mouth fell open, and the sword that was once in her hand slipped free of her loosened grip and squelched into the mud beside Mira's discarded weapon. She blinked a few times too, taking a moment to truly think Mira's words over in her head. She'd murdered a man. Cynthia hadn't expected sweet, innocent, gentle Mira to be capable of such violence. Perhaps growing up in the North, with Cynthia and Asher, had taken its toll on Mira without any of them really noticing. Pride came next. Cynthia couldn't believe her ears, but at the same time she was outstanded by Mira's courage, and untold strength, that had caught her off guard. She was proud Mira was able to protect herself, and was almost proud that she'd joined the rest of  her siblings in a mutual experience. Rodrik, Cynthia, Asher, and now Mira, had all killed those that were necessary deaths. She'd, unintentionally, grown closer to her siblings in that respect. And finally anger filled Cynthia's tiny body. Ludd might have been dead, but the fact his reach stretched as far as the capital, and he'd used his leverage to get at Mira, made Cynthia's stomach churn. If she hadn't already watched Rodrik kill him, she would've made him do it now.

"You...You killed him?" She repeated slowly, the frown easing off of her scrunched expression. "Well - I didn't see that coming." She coughed, scratched the back of her neck and then looked at Mira, who seemed frightened and confused by Cynthia's reaction. "You aren't...Acting the way I'd expected." Mira said hesitantly. "What did you think I'd do? Yell, scream, be mad at you? You said he attacked you; you did what was necessary to survive. You know what they say about you Forresters, you're as tough as the Ironwood; no doubt it would take more than some pathetic Whitehill pay-off to take one of you down." Cynthia snicked, and then reached for the two weapons that lay, deserted, in the mud. She held up one of the blades to Mira, who still seemed marginally confused by the whole ordeal, but Cynthia did catch sight, only briefly, at the way Mira held her head slightly higher after they'd finished talking. Mira took the sword from Cynthia's outstretched out with a cocked eyebrow. "Again?"