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At Arms

Summary:

Mikko and Hjaitr take the time to train together.

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Your eyes are crinkled at the corner in a way that feels unnatural. You don’t particularly mind, but the smug grin on your face is quite the sight to behold. You wipe the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand and fold your arms against your chest.

“Told you i’d keep up, old man.” you laugh. Never mind that the back of your shirt is soaked through, or the fact that you had to abandon your armor a third of the way through the session.

Hjaitr’s brow raises, and he leans against the polearm that’s been his crutch for this training session. You tower over him, sure, but the lupine gaze of the shifter has a way of getting under your skin. “I don’t consider it keeping up when you gave an ass whoopin’ to the newest addition here to the Spells.”

“Then maybe you need to train better?”

His brow remains raised. For a moment, his gaze shifts to the dwarf sitting off to the side. Dita’s been fussing over them for what feels like forever, and you were surprised when Hjaitr called for a break. “Someone’s getting cocky.”

You dust your hands off and let them fall to your side. “Hey. It’s not my issue if your trainin’ is…”

“Is what?”

The smile only grows against your lips. “Outdated.”

Hjaitr scoffs. His arms fold against his bare chest and he eyes you up and down. If you were a touch bit more observant, you’d know that it was at this point that you fucked up. You chuckle at the expression on the shifter’s face and brush the dark curls out of your face.

“Oh, lighten up, ol’ man.” you laugh. “It happens with time. Just means your way of training ain’t the right way to go anymore.”

“Last time I checked,” Hjaitr drawls. “I wasn’t the one with the losing streak.”

“I just beat Kal.”

“I was talking between you and I.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ve beaten you.”

“Once.”

“Definitely more than once.”

There’s the pommel of a blade shoved your way. “Prove it.”

Your eyes peer down to it as your hand wraps around the hilt. You bounce it in your hand, testing the weight. “You’re kidding me, right? A training blade?”

Hjaitr’s biting back a smirk. An almost smile. “The goal is to win. Not kill.”

“How am I s’posed to know if I do damage?”

“You’ll know…if you get the chance.” his back is turned for a moment as he trades out the polished staff for one of a lower caliber. “I’ll even the playing field if it evens you’ll complain less.”

You eye him up and down. You get into position, shifting your weight. Remember what he taught you. You shift your weight from leg to leg, holding the blade out in front of you.

“Wow.” Hjaitr says dryly. “You’re on guard. That’s probably the best stance you’ve ha-”

You lunge forward and are struck down over your back just as quickly. You reel forward, and it’s a matter of seconds before your legs are swept out from under you. As he expects, you crash to the ground with a thud. The dirt is disturbed as you roll to get to your feet.

“Your form’s a mess.” Hjaitr says firmly. Gone is the friend. Here is the mentor. “Up. Again.”

“You didn’t give me a ch-”

Again.” Hjaitr stands at the ready. His eyes flicker to Kal and Dita once more, and you decide to take your chance. On guard once more, you move quickly with a shuffle of your feet, and your blade makes contact with the center of his staff. A sturdier positioning of your feet, and you move to strike again.

Another block. Hjaitr doesn’t even flinch as he blocks once more.

“Better. But-”

Once more, your feet are swept out from under you.

“You’re focusing too high.” he explains as he sets the staff to the side again. “Again.”

“Holy shit.” you groan. “Can you cut me some slack?”

“Slack going to help?”

You pause. Fuck, you hate when he’s right. You lay on the ground and your own gaze drifts to the pair nursing wounds. You feel the end of Hjaitr’s bo staff jabbed into your side.

“Up.” he barks. “Again.”

“Oh come on.

“Mikko. Get up.”

With a sigh, you get to your feet and dust yourself off. The shirt feels suffocating. Irritating. You unlace the front and slide it off, tossing it to the side. Gods be damned at the scars along your back. You shake off the last blow and ready yourself again.

“You rely on high guard too much.” Hjaitr watches you with a pointed gaze. “Assess your opponent before you strike. If you have the time to do so, do it.”

“And if I don’t?”

Hjaitr pauses. “Then you best act quickly.”

Foot forward. You watch Hjaitr carefully. Quickly. You wipe the sweat from your brow again and rest the blade closer to the ground. Fool’s guard. Hjaitr raises his brow in surprise. Combat begins once more, and Hjaitr moves first.


You wait.

You breathe.

You aim for Hjaitr’s side as he goes to attack on the opposite. An opening, and a success at that. Your mentor grunts as the dull blade makes contact.

For a moment. The staff is slammed against your chest and you propel backwards, the blade toppling from your hands. Hjaitr chuckles, and you hear the faintest of clapping coming from the benches. You roll your eyes again and wince as you sit up.

“Will you cut that out?”

“I’m doing you a favour.” Hjaitr chuckles and offers a hand. “You have much to learn.”

Another scoff. “Easier said than fuckin’ done when you keep knocking me down.”

“Then block accordingly. It’s not your opponent’s fault when they see an opening.”

Your eyes dart to Kal. “I fucked them up.”

Hjaitr pauses. He lowers his voice as he sees Dita and Kal’s…whatever it is coming to a close. “You need to learn balance. Control. There’s a fine line between a respectful spar, and an ass whoopin’.”

“You don’t go easy on me.”

“I have no reason to.”Hjaitr pats your shoulder. A sign of respect. “Not when I see what you can do. What you’re capable of.”

You’re not quite sure what to say. You clear your throat and offer the blade to Hjaitr. Emotions sure are fuckin’ uncomfortable.

“Understand what I’m saying, Mikko?” Hjaitr asks gently.

“Yeah.” you manage to say. “Yeah, I think I do.”

Hjaitr sets the blade and the staff in the rack behind him. “Good. We train tomorrow. Same as always. Get going. I think I might be in trouble.”

You manage to look over to see Dita heading over. With a sigh, you bow respectfully to Hjaitr. Some habits never die from the past.

You turn. You leave.

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