Training technique #17: Pink Stockings & Beetroot

[Sir Alymere]

Introducing: almost nearly

TOURNAMENT TIME

[/color] (also known as)
That time Bedivere kissed Old Mrs. Blumbleweed (the butcher’s wife)’s great aunt’s sister-in-law, or someone equally ancient.[/b][/color][/center]

Starring in Leading Roles PRINCE ARTHUR of CAMELOT (the shiny and destined to win) and SIR ALYMERE also of CAMELOT (the CLEARLY magnificent but willing on this one instance to be upstaged). Guest appearances by SIR EWAN and SIR BEDIVERE (who's actions are shamelessly dictated by the aforementioned stars). Other knights and spectators WELCOME TO CRASH!! and will be accredited as SHINY SHINY STARS.

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It was that time of the year again… Tournament Time. The city was abuzz, the squires run ragged, the trumpeters practicing their fanfares, the royal kitchens in utter havoc as they tried to prepare for an inundation of nobility, and the entrepreneurial bookies taking ever more ludicrous bets on the manner of the first defeat, the last win, and the likelihood that ducks would land in the middle of the field.

Camelot’s knights were hard in training, trying to out do each other with the most favours earned from ladies of the court. Any day now knights from all over the realm would begin to trickle into the city in a bid to win the thousand gold pieces on offer and to take back news to their lords of which kingdoms currently wielded the most fearsome warriors. Despite the fun and games of the tournament there was that serious side. Camelot needed to not only win, though that was a given as Prince Arthur was even on his worse days fairly unbeatable, but also dominate the tournament, proving that as ever Camelot could boast the best knights in Albion. Maybe even sway the allegiance of a few errants while they were at it.

It was a glorious day for training and Sir Alymere was in good spirits as he awaited his next sparring match. He swung a sword around in a showy flourish as he watched an ongoing dual between Sir Ewan and Sir Bedivere, offering such insightful observations as that Ewan’s pink stocking were showing above his boots and Bedivere’s lips were so red he had clearly been kissing beetroots or possibly Old Mrs. Blumbleweed the butcher’s wife’s, great aunt’s sister-in-law, or someone equally ancient.

It seemed to egg them on and he had to jump back slightly has their swords clashed loudly and scrappily very near to his face. He glared. They laughed. And Alymere, getting bored of just standing around when there were fellow knights to upstage and ladies incredibly indiscreetly watching from the fences to impress, looked for a sparring partner…[/blockquote]

[Arthur Pendragon]

Good servants were so bloody hard to find! Arthur thought his last one was an idiot . . . apparently, it was possible to have an even bigger idiot serve him! Merlin. Why on earth had his father appointed him the position of personal man servant to the prince? He knew he could easily fire him, but deep down there was something about him that Arthur could not ignore. He was not sure if it was something that made him trust Merlin, or something that made him highly suspicious of him. Either way, he had recognized it during the first time they met. Even then he proved to be a complete moron. Speaking out against him, trying to swing a punch at him. And now, he had to deal with his incompetence on a daily basis. How the hell did Gaius tolerate him?! Arthur truly had a new found respect for the physician.

The tournament was very close and Arthur needed to continue on with his training. Every tournament, every joust, every sort of competition, his father would always express his expectation for Arthur to win. Using phrases such as 'I know you will not let me down' or 'As a future king you are expected to prove your worthiness'. While these things were probably meant to sound encouraging, they only placed tremendous pressure on the young prince. He knew, as a leader of the army, the people looked to him for safety and security. As a future king, the people looked to him for justice and fairness. He knew, that all eyes were on him; expecting him to fulfill his duties, probably criticizing him when he did not. It was a great deal of pressure indeed. So how was Arthur supposed to prove his worth to the people when his idiotic servant could not even handle a mace?!

It was why he had wandered off from Merlin's useless company. He was already nearly passing out from the mace work, but Arthur was still ready to keep training. Hence, the reason he made his way out of his secluded spot towards where the rest of his men were practicing. A few were in groups, others were sparring . . . Arthur's eyes scanned the crowd looking for someone to practice with and it did not take long for his gaze to fall on Sir Alymere, who seemed to be searching the crowd for the same thing. Arthur decided he would be a suitable opponent. Suitable, for the man was truly a highly skilled combatant, and often stood on Arthur's side amidst a battle. "Sir Alymere," he greeted, with a slight nod of his head as a bit of an additional greeting to his words. "You really shouldn't be standing there idly. You need all the practice you can get," he teased. As Arthur was on good terms with the knights of Camelot, he often engaged in friendly teasings and mocking remarks. Alymere was no exception to this.