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Leon picked up his sword and adjusted his grip on the hilt. "This," he said, "is the proper way to wield a blade." Luis nodded, and his long brown hair bobbed as he did so. He mirrored Leon's actions, his right hand the first to grasp his own sword, followed by his left. His hands overlapped and in a single fluid motion the sword was drawn back toward his shoulder blade, held high as if he was sizing up an opponent. "Good," Leon praised. "You've got that down."
"I would hope so, cariño. I was beginning to believe that was the only thing you'd ever teach me."
"You weren't ready yet," Leon shrugged. "Sheath it."
Luis grumbled as he returned the weapon to its own storage of sorts, clearly exasperated. "Are you going to keep coddling me, or are you going to prepare me for combat?"
"It's not all about your weapon, you know. A successful knight's wit is sharper than his blade."
"I've always been quick-witted," he protested. "Crawled my way out of that hell hole. Gotta have some smarts to do that, you know."
Leon thrust his blade into the air beside one of his upturned arms. "Pay attention," he admonished.
"That's hardly fair," Luis scoffed.
"You were unprepared."
"Sí," he relented, "but only because of your dirty tricks."
"Not every enemy will play fair," Leon scoffed. "And you won't always have your weapon drawn to meet them." He firmly planted his legs on the cobbled floor and raised his sword again. "Disarm me," he ordered.
Luis sprang into action, his steps quick but controlled. Leon whirled around as he neared his back, exposed due to their lack of armor, and brandished the sharp edge of his sword. Luis hopped back and, once he had gained enough space between the two of them, drew his own weapon once again.
"I told you to disarm me, Luis, not to start a fight you won't be able to finish."
"Don't you have any faith in me, mi cielo?" Leon scoffed and crossed the space between them, the hair on his arms raised as he calculated the angle to swing toward him with. Any injuries were to be avoided to the best of his ability, of course, but there was hardly any point in training with a dull blade.
The sound of metal hitting metal echoed through the room when Luis blocked his blow. Leon hesitated— just how had he managed to do that? Was he underestimating him? In those few seconds, a particularly well placed kick hit him in the shin, and he grunted at the connection between the heel of Luis's boot and his poorly protected skin. He slid his sword away from Luis's, backed away, and charged again.
Luis chuckled when he managed to thrust his blade forward before Leon had even poised his for attack, landing just inches from Leon's flat stomach. "Drop it, querido," he instructed, and when the blade was beneath his feet, he kicked it across the room.
"Impressive," Leon remarked. "What would you have done if I'd refused?"
"It wouldn't have been pretty."
"You seem sure of yourself." Luis shrugged. "Again," Leon ordered, his sword collected. Luis smirked and resumed his own position, shoulders squared and feet slightly spread to match their width.
This time, he was the first to move. Leon had hardly blinked by the time he was half of the way across the room and rapidly approaching him. He steeled himself and sent a warning message, a swift slash into the air separating them. Luis stepped up and lunged forward anyway, his sword presumably intended to dip beneath Leon's own to catch him at the ribs, but the two of them met again with a clatter harsh enough to vibrate Leon's teeth.
"It won't always be that easy," he chastised. "You were lucky the first time."
"No, not lucky. Just caught you off guard."
Leon blocked another blow, this time intended for his calves. He surged forward, his sword aimed for Luis's hip. He twisted away from the sharp metal and brought his blade over Leon's, where it knocked against the other, then backed away and studied Leon's stance for a brief moment.
"You're far too predictable, Luis." Leon stood in place and panted, urging air to surge back into his lungs.
Luis grunted and leaned forward. "You expect me to be a strategist, too?"
"This early?" Leon asked. "No. But we'll need to work on that."
"That I can agree with." He crept forward, his sword held tight to his body and crossed over his chest. "Come on, mi príncipe, we still have time."
"Always trying to butter me up," Leon scoffed.
"Is it working?"
"Unfortunately, yes," Leon groaned. A light dusting of red was no doubt present upon his cheeks. "As always." Luis hummed appreciatively. Leon lurched forward, one leg outstretched in an attempt to trip his opponent if he staggered to the side. Luis dodged to the other side, smiling, and Leon followed. Luis made to stab at him, and Leon cut him off with an angled draw toward his chest.
Luis let out a surprised yelp and clutched at the spot. His palm came away slightly red with fresh blood. "Ack," he grunted and wiped the blood off of his palm and onto his pants.
"Luis," Leon began.
"It's nothing," he reassured Leon, who could now see the shallow cut through the light layer of chest hair Luis sported. He sighed in relief and his sword clattered to the ground as he dropped it and walked forward to take a look.
"Looks fine," he agreed. "Still, let's stop here for now. It's nice to know what I'm working with, but you should definitely be a little more experienced by the time we try this again."
"Ugh, fine," Luis groaned. "It's just a little cut, you know. I'll be back tomorrow."
"You're nothing if not stubborn," Leon laughed. "Alright, Luis. Get some rest and have someone look at it. This time tomorrow we'll go over some more of the basics."
"Like always." Before Leon could complain about how impatient he was being, Luis pressed a kiss against his forehead. "I'll be fine. Adiós, Leon." He scoffed as the door closed behind his partner and retrieved his sword to clean it.