Drakon

garden swords

[⚔k i a d r a k e⚔]

I plopped myself down on one of the plush armchairs outside Alistair's room. I sighed happily, lounging back and propping my feet over the side. The prince had life easy for him, with getting whatever he wanted whenever he asked. Me, I was perfectly content with these chairs. I could sit in them all day. The door opened abruptly and Alistair walked out in riding gear. He wore knee high boots like mine, along with a long sleeved button up and tights. I grinned, wiggling the lock pick in my fingers. "At least I didn't break in again!"

Alistair merely grunted, cheeks reddening. "Don't even think about it." He cleared his throat, unwilling to meet my eyes. "Anyway, I'm teaching you how to sword fight today." He extended a hand out but I ignored it, twisting myself around and almost rolling off the sofa. His fingers twitched, pride and ego bruised. I resisted the urge to laugh at his expression.

I stood up, brushing off the dust from my black coat. "Well, whatcha waiting for? Let's go!" He stared at me for a few seconds before rolling his eyes. I glared, insulted. "What was that for?"

"I've already had a bad night," he grumbled, "I don't want to ruin my day any further with Cecil catching us two together or something." A dark red flush remained on his cheeks as his emerald eyes scanned the room, looking everywhere but at me. "Oh, found it." He picked up a silver long-sword, staring at it with admiration. "This is Aichmirós, my sword. I've had him ever since I was a kid." He took a couple of test swings, and I let out a squeak, stepping back. I've had daggers pointed at my throat, but never swords. He slid it back into it's scabbard attached to his belt with a metallic clang. He looked up, almost like he'd completely forgotten about me. "Sorry," he muttered, "we should get going."

Alistair guided me through the castle with ease. He looked bored by his surroundings, but I was fascinated by just about everything. Of course, he'd grown up in this. I, on the other hand, had never seen a chandelier in my life. "Are we there yet?" It seemed like we'd been walking for quite a long time, or maybe it was just the fact that I had never been inside the castle. It seemed even bigger on the inside than it was on the outside.

"We're here." He opened a door which led out to a giant garden. "My mother loved this garden. I used to help her tend to the plants when I was a child." A forlorn expression wriggled its way onto his face. The sunshine shone down onto his face, illuminating the tears shining in his emerald eyes. "She passed away, but I still come here every day to tend to the flowers. She loved the daisies the most." He knelt down, pulling the leaves away. True to his word, the daisies flourished, as did all the other plants. "They're beautiful, aren't they?" He spoke with a bittersweet smile on his face.

"Yes, they are." I whispered back, staring at their brilliantly white petals. A tear trickled down his face, and he hastily wiped it away with a sniff. Was he ashamed to let me see him cry? To me, emotions were what made a person human. I barely showed mine, but that didn't mean I didn't have any.

"I like to train here. It reminds me of the carefree days I spent with mother." He stood up slowly, unsteady on his feet. Inadvertently, I reached out to him, wrapping my arms around his waist. "She taught me how to make flower crowns with the daisies." He stiffened, but didn't seem to mind too much. He seemed like he needed a hug more than anything at that moment, so that's what I gave him. "I've never brought anybody here, so it would be great if you could keep this place a secret." So why did you bring me, I wanted to ask, but I nodded mutely, beckoning him to continue. He explained that he kept the door locked most of the time, so even the gardeners couldn't get in here.

"I keep a few wooden swords here for practice." He led me to a shed, the light flooding in and revealing a rack of weapons. This couldn't possibly classify as 'a few wooden swords', this was an entire weaponry collection! Swords, staffs, battleaxes, spears and hammers... the shed was like his own personal torture chamber. If Alistair paid the blacksmith or whoever made the weapons, that person would be a hella wealthy man.

I frowned. "Just asking, why do you want me to learn how to fight with a sword? I already have a dagger, and dragons should be badass enough." I picked up a wooden sword which was probably for dummies, hefting it up in the air.

Alistair cringed. "Let's just say some of the dragons can't fight as well as others." He picked up one of the wooden swords himself. Perhaps it was because he didn't want to slice me to ribbons even before we started training. "So, first rule of sword-fighting. Keep your feet on the ground, and spread your legs."

"Excuse me?"

"No! No! I-I-I didn't mean that!" Alistair stammered, face as red as the poppies growing in the garden. "I meant that you have to keep your legs shoulder width apart!" I almost snorted. If I knew the prince was so easily flustered, I would have made fun of him a lot more often.

"Jeez, I was only messing with you." I smirked as he flushed even further, averting his gaze.

"Right, totally." He rolled his eyes, still unwilling to make eye contact. "Anyway, you always have to keep an eye on your opponent. You never know what they're going to do-" Suddenly, Alistair lunged at me with his wooden sword, and I barely had time to jump back. "That's a good start." He looked pleased. "Usually when I try that on the newbie guards they never see that coming."

I cheered half-heartedly. "Hooray."

"Next step. You should be okay with this, since you're used to being on the streets where it's dangerous. Never stand with your feet planted on the floor. I once tried to convince father to let the guards slouch and stand at ease when they were on duty, since being uptight was dangerous. You always have to be ready to move, whether it be to run, to hide or to fight back. Stay on the balls of your feet, knees slightly bent, shoulder loose."

I nodded. That was true. I'd grown up with a natural 'fight or flight' instinct. I bent my knees, ready to move should Alistair launch another surprise attack.

Alistair shook his head. "Stop. You're too obvious. Try to look as inconspicuous as you can, while still being ready. Surprise is your best option here, and speed, since you're so... small."

I shot a glare at him. "I won't be so small when I'm kicking your arse." I snarled. I lunged at him, and our blades clashed in the sunlight, my sword slamming into his with a sharp crack. He parried as I swung furiously, trying to get through his defenses, coming closer and closer to him every strike. Soon, he jabbed on the right, and as I moved to parry his attack, he twisted his sword, disarming me.

"You're too used to fighting with a knife. You can only use those techniques in a tight space where you have the advantage. You're also too used to the length of your knife, and you're coming in too close. The sword is long, it'll give you a further reach, so you don't need to come in so close to attack. When you attack this close, it lowers your defenses slightly and allows the opponent to get inside your guard, and easily disarm you. Again."

I glowered at him again, but he had a point. I charged at him again, careful to keep my distance from him, and we resumed our parrying. Sometimes he would press on me, sometimes I would push back, but it was soon like a dance. Our swords were like ribbons fluttering in the cool nature breeze, and I was glad for the shade. I was quicker and smaller than he was, but soon, his stronger and larger frame prevailed, and he took my sword, putting it against my neck. I flushed, not just because I was exerted, but because of the close contact between us. Why was I blushing? I've seen Ash naked before, so how did a sword to my neck make a difference?

Before I could ponder about this, we were interrupted by a snobby 'ahem.' "Your Highness, Prince Alistair? His Majesty is waiting for you up in the Tower." He gave me a look of disgust at my appearance. I guess I was sweaty and blotchy, but swordfighting in fully black clothes did that to you. "I suggest you freshen up a bit before you go up."

"Thank you, Tur- Torship." Alistair said. Ah, yes. I'd forgotten about Turnip. "You can go now. Get the hell out of my garden." As Torship trotted away, he turned to me. "Meet me at Dragon Tower. Ask Poppy to bring you if you need help. I have something to deal with first."

image: inspiration for alistair's long-sword, aichmirós