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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Jun 18, 2010 22:25:36 GMT -5
Arthur was extremely uneasy with this entire situation. Not only was he unable to train the men properly, but now the women were participating. If anything happened to any of them . . . if any of the children in this village were orphaned . . . It was a morbid thought, but an entirely realistic one. They were outnumbered, and outskilled, and to say that Arthur was stressed would be a massive understatement. Still, he did not regret coming. He just hoped that somehow . . . miraculously, the outcome would be in their favor.
He was walking back to the village, as he had been in the woods, taking some time to reflect . . . and eat the terrible food. Of course, after Gwen spoke up, pointing out his rudeness, he ate every single bit of it. That had been the second time she had spoken up against him, and while he was not one to demand respect, he was still surprised by it. He did not know Guinevère all that well, even though she had been Morgana's maid for quite some time. He was just now getting to know her, and she was far different than he would have ever expected . . . and it was a pleasant surprise indeed.
He returned the bowl to Merlin's mother, thanking her for the delicious food. Lying to protect her feelings, really though it was the thought that counts after all. He turned and walked away, now in search of someone he had just seen moments ago. When his eyes rested on her, he took a minute before approaching her. "Guinevère," he greeted. She was standing alone, and that was why he would take this opportunity. "I wanted to thank you again, for reminding me of what I was taking advantage of." He wanted to repay her somehow, and did have an idea . . . though he was waiting for her reaction.
Setting: In the small village of Ealdor Time of Day: Early morning Timeline: During The Moment of Truth, when the villagers are training Tag: Guinevère
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Post by Guinevère on Jun 18, 2010 22:45:54 GMT -5
Gwen looked down at the sword in her hand. It had been a while since she had picked up one of these. The craftsman's ship was good. Her father would approve. She gripped the handle, before letting it go, and wiping the sweat from her palm and them trying again. Yes, that was a bit better. She tried to think of anything her father said about swords and how to use them. Honestly, Gwen knew she could sue the sword, but she wondered if she could harm someone. If she could fight. She knew she could never kill someone. What if they didn't feel the same?
Gwen heard Arthur speak and looked up at him, dropping the point of the blade to the ground. "I should not have spoken as such to your, my lord. The tension is just getting allot for us all. Forgive me." She have a small bow of her head. She meant every word, but he was still the Prince, and she did rather like her head on her shoulders. She knew he would never hurt her, but she also liked her job, and knew better to speak out of place.
She had not been joking, about how everyone seemed to be on edge. The waiting was going to kill them long before the men came to do it. What would his father say when he found out? This could not end well, but she hoped for everyone's sake (Merlin's Mother!) that they did. That they won!
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Jun 18, 2010 23:09:17 GMT -5
"You have nothing to apologize for. I understand. This is a hard time for everyone." The villagers were either going to lose all their things (their land, their belongings) . . . or their lives. Arthur did not want to be cynical, especially after his big speech to them. Gwen had reassured him once, he was not expecting her to do it for the second time. "That looks like a strong sword," he said, motioning to the weapon in her hand. She had been immensely helpful in preparing for this . . . battle -- if it could be called that. Her knowledge of weaponry and armor of course came from her father -- her late father's -- expertise.
"How skilled at you at using it?" He was leading up to offering her some private lessons, as everyone else was busy with their own tasks. He wanted to make sure she stayed safe . . . that she wouldn't be harmed, just in case he was not there to help her. He wanted to make sure the women were safe. He hated the idea of them fighting, but what choice did he have? He had no authority over this village anyway. "Since you and Morgana insisted on joining the fight, I just want to make sure you're prepared. Especially since I have not had the chance to show you the few basics of combat." Which was because she had been so busy helping everyone else prepare, making and adjusting weapons, armor, etc. He wanted to return the favor to her. Who knows. It may be the last opportunity to do anything for her.
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Post by Guinevère on Jun 18, 2010 23:23:31 GMT -5
Gwen wasn't going to embarrass them both by repeating her self. She knew she had spoken out of place. Maybe it was the little town, knowing that he wasn't a Prince here, and nor was she a servant. She promised her self not to do it again. She didn't want to become troublesome. She smiled, softly at first then a bit more relaxed as he asked if she was skilled with it. Of course she wasn't his level of skilled, but she knew how it works.
"I'm a blacksmith's daughter, sire, I know how to hold the sword." In a friendly don't-hurt-anyone way. "I was simply wondering if I had the courage to use it." After she said it, she seemed to realize what she said, "Not that I want to get out of the battle, I want to fight. I want to help, I was just wondering if I could help the way I am needed to help." Gwen had only ever seen the sportsman fighting around Camelot, not an open war as this was about to become. She doubted she could kill a man, and wondered if that would cost her, her life.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Jun 18, 2010 23:50:40 GMT -5
Arthur thought about his first time in battle, and how hard it was to puncture someone with a sword. He still hated doing it . . . but it was a necessity at times, and this particular occasion was a prime example. "I know the feeling," he said with half a smile. "You have already helped a great deal by helping everyone with the preparations. If it had not been for you, I doubted we could have gotten everything together as efficiently as we did." He truly believed that. And yet, he wished that Morgana and her had just stayed at home, because they would have been safe.
"I would still prefer it if you and the other women did not engage in the fight, but I know Morgana's stubborn ways and I think her and you share that quality." He did not say it in an offended or rude way, but more, in a bit of a teasing way since it had been way who stood up for the women and was their voice. "Are you free right now?" It was a bit of an odd question to ask but he wanted to make sure she did not have anything else of great urgency to do right at this moment. That way, he could help her in the only way he knew how.
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Post by Guinevère on Jun 18, 2010 23:59:08 GMT -5
He was teasing her, speaking to her as he did Morgana and Merlin (well, not as he did with them. There seemed to be something more when he spoke to them), and she understood this was a (temperately)) peace offering. He seemed to grow up right before her at times. From the spoiled bully to a man who would risk his life for a village she doubted he had heard of before. A year ago, she would not have believed Arthur would have done this.
A year ago, she would not have believed she would be doing this. "When the prince of Camelot requests it, are we not always free?" She teased back, trying to keep the almost relaxed presence he brought to her longer. "Did you need me to do something? I can help if there is more work to be done." Gwen had done her best to ignore his complements. She did not want them to go to her head. Anyone would have done the same had they been were she had been.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Jun 19, 2010 10:42:14 GMT -5
Arthur gave a small smile. He did tend to abuse his authorities at time, but this was not one of those instances . . . he was merely leading a group of villagers in something that he had more expertise than them in. "You are free to disagree, especially in a Kingdom where I have no authority." He did not know if that was a yes though. Then again, the fact that she was listing things to do for others led him to the conclusion that even if she was needed elsewhere, she deserved to use her time to do something to help herself.
"Since you are planning on fighting, and was unable to join in the training . . . I was wondering if you would perhaps like me to show you a few basics. It obviously won't be everything; it won't be too much but at least it will be something." She knew how to carry a sword, but how much could she use it? This was something he did not want to wait until they were on the battleground to find out.
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Post by Guinevère on Jun 19, 2010 20:40:06 GMT -5
Just because he said she could did not mean she could. They both knew better, even if Gwen thought it was very kind of him to say so. Once they were home (and Gwen had to believe they would see home again), then things would be right back to how they were. Arthur was the prince, Morgana the Lady and Gwen and Merlin the servants. Even if they were treated like friends or special did not mean she could speak up and speak down to him.
"My father taught me some, he liked to test the swords he made to make sure they were good. Even so, it's been a while since I helped he do so, and I am sure they will be better." She admitted. "I would be grateful, Sire, for any help you might give." Gwen had no wish to die, but she also had no wish to kill. She wondered if she should admit this to Arthur, but decided not to. She didn't want to be pulled from the fight. She wanted -needed- to help everyone, in every way she could.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Jun 19, 2010 21:21:59 GMT -5
"Well the fact that you have held one is an excellent start. You can get a feel of its weight, be able to balance it, and keep a steady grasp on it." That was sometimes difficult; underestimating the weight of the weapon. He was however glad that she was taking him up on his offer. Whether she was doing it just to be polite . . . he did not know. He did not want her to feel like he was ordering her or anything, or that she had to say yes out of obligation. Here, Arthur was only leading people because he had the most experience . . . not because he was a Prince.
"Excellent! Let's go somewhere so that we will have a bit more room and there are less things around." Less distractions, less people calling for their attention. It was rare enough to have these few moments to teach them, he wanted to value them and not let anyone interrupt. As they were walking towards a clearer opening, he looked at her, curious as to what was running through her mind. "Are you afraid Guinevère?" She probably had not fought any battles in the past . . . this would be her first, and potentially last. He wanted to somehow reassure her that everything would be alright; even if he had a hard time believing it himself.
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Post by Guinevère on Jun 19, 2010 21:54:50 GMT -5
Are you afraid?
Yes.
Guinevère was afraid, but not only for her self. She was so afraid that at times her felt her knees knock together, and she worried she would not be able to stand. She wanted to ask them all to abandon their homes and move somewhere safer, but knew that they could no more do that as she could have her own. Yes, Gwen was very afraid. She just wasn't sure she wanted Arthur to know it. She needed to answer his question with out giving to much away.
"Will you promise me something, Sire?" She asked as she followed behind him to the more open space. "Will you do your best not to die when they come? I don't wish to be the one explaining to the King why we are returning without you." Uther would be mad enough as it was. As a servant, she would escape most his wrath, but as his son, Arthur would gain what she missed out on. It was said in more of a jest, then honest request; and was her own of trying to avoid answering him.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Jun 20, 2010 11:58:43 GMT -5
Arthur stopped walking and turned to look at her. He was surprised by her answer. She was always concerned for the well being of others. Did she ever prioritize herself? Arthur knew the risks involved in this. He knew that because of this battle, though it was not a great one; it was merely a fight between villagers and ruthless thieves . . . but Arthur was prepared for the potential danger. This very battle may be his last, and may leave Camelot without an heir. While he obviously did not want to die, he would never regret coming.
"I will only make that promise if you make me one yourself," he began. He did not want his father to be devastated by his death . . . he knew he would blame others for it. But he was not about to abandon these people; friends, innocent victims of crime. "Promise me that you will do your best not to die. I do not wish to go to your father and explain to him that his only daughter is dead because of a failure to protect her." He used generally the same words as her, with a few additions. He wanted to make sure she knew that her life, was just as valuable as his . . . that everyone's life was valuable and that he would not allow his status to make him protect only himself.
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Post by Guinevère on Jun 20, 2010 20:53:17 GMT -5
Guinevère gave a sudden soft laugh at the idea of Arthur trying her own methods against her. "I will my best, Sire, to use everything my father--and you--have taught me." She promised. For a few moments here she didn't feel the blinding fear that death was coming. She wasn't sure if it was because of Arthur, or if it was Arthur him self, but she found her felt, less afraid. For the moment at lest, she had no doubt the fear would return once she thought about what was to come.
They were in an open area now, but still well with in sight of everyone. Guinevère picked up the sword from where she had all but been dragging it and held it out her father had shown her. She looked down at it, and wondered when it had become something fun to something so dangerous. "I am ready to learn what you are ready to teach me." She looked up at him wondering how he did it. How he was so brave.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Jun 20, 2010 22:03:45 GMT -5
Arthur was happy to hear her laugh, even if it was short. At least it seemed to ease some of the tension, even if just for a slight moment. He still did not like the thought of her and Morgana fighting, even more so now. "Hopefully it will be helpful then," he said getting into position. He stood across from her, watching her pick up his sword, while drawing out his own. "Now the most important thing to remember, is that all you need is one welling blow. Once you have that, you have the immediate advantage and you can proceed to . . . defeat your enemy." Something told him that ]kill was not the best word to use.
"Also remember, only to stay in range long enough to strike your blow, or then quickly step back so they do not have the same opportunity." He turned his wrist, spinning his sword in a circle, his way of warming up. "Now come, attack me." For some reason he could not picture Gwen fighting. This training session was about to change that.
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Post by Guinevère on Jun 20, 2010 22:25:09 GMT -5
Guinevère moved to mimic his standing and thought about trying to spin the sword but decided not to risk doing it, and then dropping it while making her self look like an untrained fool. If swords were lighter, they would be easier to handle. However, they were not and she needed to adjust to handling the weight so she was not hindered in b-b-b-battle. Battle?! It was still frighting to think about, and she was losing the calm she held a moment ago.
Attack him? Yes, attack the Prince and one day King. She thought of him as the bully he had once been but still could not get her mind angry enough to attack. Finally she took a deep breath and moved in for a blow. She was slow, and it was easy to see she was trying not to hurt him. Not that she could get a blow in, Arthur was trained and the best but the fear of hurting someone-anyone-held her back from being forceful.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Jun 20, 2010 22:36:04 GMT -5
Arthur could sense her reluctance. This was not uncommon for men -- or in this case women -- to be so hesitant to attack. He had trained many men, some of which had never held a sword before and they shared this feeling of holding back. He just had to move to the side, as simple drawn out step while she attempted to strike him. "Its a good start," he said trying to sound encouraging. He did not want to be as harsh with her as he was with the other men. He did not want to say things like 'if this was the battlefield, you would be dead by now'.
He went to stand next to her. "Try holding it like this," he said, demonstrating to her how he was positioning his sword. "With a strong wrist, and you'll have more control on the weapon." He returned to his initial position, across from her. "Again. This time, with more force." He held up his sword, prepared wherever she was going to strike. "Don't worry, you aren't going to hurt me," he added with a soft smile, trying to ease some of her nervousness.
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Post by Guinevère on Jun 20, 2010 22:59:21 GMT -5
Guinevère knew why men did not want to fight Arthur, he made you feel like a fool with his different the skill level was between them. She thought back to Lancelot, trying to recall how he looked fighting Arthur. He had been one of the few who looked equal almost while fighting the prince. She had to look like a ant attacking the cat. How would she last angist someone who wanted her dead?
She made sure to fix her wrist, tightened her grip and tried again, but she was still not goo enough to hit him. It helped some that his last line was a bit arrogant. Even it was true, the boldness behind it made her want to get a hit in. Just one! This time after her first swing she stayed in close (forgetting to move out of range) for another swing, trying harder to get a hit in, but knowing she could not and she would feel awful if she did.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Jun 20, 2010 23:11:09 GMT -5
She was a fast learner. But Arthur spent weeks, months, years training men for the battlefield, and yet some still did not survive. He only had moments to show her how to fight, in a battle where they were severely outnumbered and out skilled. He tried not to let this affect him, for it may discourage her. When she swung at close range, he held up his sword to block. "Good!" He encouraged, wanting to be positive. "Remember though. You just made your blow, now quickly step out of range before I try to make mine." He moved in forward, getting ready to hit her with his sword, but of course he kept the distance safe just in case she could not stop it.
"Remember to keep an eye on my motions. Try to anticipate my next move. For once you do that, you will quickly be able to get a hold of my pattern, and then counter each attack. If I step forward," He took a step forward. "Take a step back or to the side. Always aim for my unprotected parts. The side of my stomach for instance; I have no armor there, so I am extremely vulnerable. That, is where you can get that welling blow to wound me." Or . . . kill him.
"You must move quickly and swiftly. There will be no time to think, only act." He paused for a moment. "Guinevère, any reluctance you have will be used against you for they will not offer you the same courtesy. They will use it against you to . . . try and kill you." He hated saying that, but needed her to know that she needed to act extremely defensively and not allow her emotions to conflict with her actions.
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Post by Guinevère on Jun 20, 2010 23:26:17 GMT -5
Guinevère moved back out of range after failing to hit him and only barley blocking his blow that was no were near hitting her. "I know they will not hold back---that I am ----out matched, Sire." She said out of breath from even this short fighting, but not tired at lest. She took a few deep breaths before lifting the sword again and this time trying to go faster at him. However with the faster movements she was losing some of her aim and skill. She swung at air once before nearly dropping the sword.
The next time she came at him, she moved slower, but still faster then she had been, trying to aim for his side like he told her. She seemed to get some of her aim back but she was still no closer to getting in a hit. She was feeling discouraged. In a fight, this would not help her. She thought of the villagers here and how they would lose everything, and felt a swell of emotion she wasn't sued to feeling, and tired to use that in getting in a blow.
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Post by Arthur Pendragon on Jun 21, 2010 11:02:05 GMT -5
Her blows were getting stronger, but not nearly enough. This was just training. Would she really be able to hit a man she did not know . . . and try to kill him? Arthur was not sure if she could, but then again, when one was in a life or death situation, things changed. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Maybe she would surprise him. He was going to give her more credit. "Excellent," he said, when he blocked her hit on his side. "Your aim is getting better. Now, you just need to combine that speed with precision. And when you have that advantage, strike with as much strength as you have."
"Now, say I am coming towards you . . . " He took a step towards her. Gently swinging her sword to the side, and seeing if she would block it. "Remember, no hesitation. This is a matter of life and death, and if you do not fight as hard as you can, you will not live to wish you had done differently." The brutal truth about battles were sometimes hard to hear, but during times such as these, he used it as motivation for people to pull out every skill they had to defend themselves. "These are ruthless men Guinevère. Remember what . . . who you are fighting for. Your fighting for innocent villagers who want nothing more than to protect what is rightfully theirs."
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Post by Guinevère on Jun 21, 2010 12:23:26 GMT -5
Guinevère had only just been able to block his blow towards her but even with him moving slowly as not ti hurt her, she felt the impact in her toes. She tried to use the block to push his sword away and make her own attack. She wasn't sure how close she came to making it because in the effort she had shut her eyes. She took a few steps back so she might catch her breath while he spoke.
"I doubt, Sire, that I could forget why I am fighting." She spoke up when she had her breath back. She stood there for a moment looking at him. Guinevère wondered how Arthur saw all this. Did he have hope? Did he believe in them? "Do you think that we will w----Do you think we will survive?" She asked him, knowing that if he doubted in them and the men could tell they would doubt in them selves.
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