Amanda tilted the sword, outstretched her arm and swept forwards, revelling in the sharp metallic clang that resounded throughout the courtyard. Dust formed clouds around her feet as she swayed and shuffled, a fierce grin pulling at her lips as she momentarily paused, regarding her opponent in the suns setting rays.

"Tired already, O'neill?"

Hell no and double no was she getting away with that, amazing or not.

"In your dreams, Cavendish."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lazy summers drove Amanda wild. Every restless, sweaty moment spent laying in the shade, sharpening dull blades and mending torn leather scraped away at patience already lacking in source. The horses were lethargic assess, the cider warm by the time it reached her lips, and Amanda's team had long since left for the North, the promise to return soon dwindling with the surrounding villages meagre water supply.

Well and truly, fuck the Summer.

If anybody noted the Captain of the watches disdain, they chose not to comment, and Woodward bless any that tried. There were places in the castle even the Queen herself would not be privy to, and Amanda had a streak of something within her that all including herself were too terrified to name.

Summer dragged slowly onwards. A wayward sheep was rescued from the moat, a litre of ale relinquished from a group of children and mysteriously dealt with, and a thief robbing an abandoned home. The sun rose and set upon Amanda's scathingly hot armour, time only realised by the routine sweeps of her practice sword come dusk, dancing to the humdrum of the crickets and awakening owls.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Dawn arrived on a new day, and with it came Cavendish.

Amanda knew. It was obvious, or at least she thought it was until the ignorance of the Watch struck her. It seemed ridiculous at first, but well… Amanda had never minded being in the know, and this was a particularly intriguing development in her currently sweltering state of affairs.

Cavendish knew the movements before she'd been taught them, was somehow was familiar with the castle before arriving, and could read as well as a royal.

Fuck intriguing, this was bloody hilarious.

Whether through intention or lack of, Amanda drilled Cavendish harder than she'd ever done with her other newbies. One lap became three, an hour became half a day, "good enough" transformed into "more". Or perhaps it was her eyes, crisp blue that spoke of status and demanded respect, a pride so stiff it could be a backbone. Amanda challenged those eyes every day, the summer melting away to spring before she could register the new-born hatchlings cries. She was far too busy watching her own flower bloom.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Captain."

Amanda smiled upon hearing the voice behind her, petting her horse, the infamous America ("I swear, America EXISTS!") trying to resist the urge to face its cause.

"At ease, Cavendish." The soft flap of tunic against armour met Amanda gaze as she finally turned after heavy pause. Cavendish stood straight and tall, blonde hair plaited down her back and hands clasped behind her back. The very image of a Knight fit for the Watch, if it weren't for….

…. well.

"Meet me in the courtyard. Your footwork was looking a little sloppy there yesterday. "Amanda grinned and winked, rolling her shoulders as she turned to leave the stables.

"Be sure to bring some guts and an honest heart."

xxxxxxxxxx

Hell no and double no was she getting away with that, amazing or not.

The duel was intense, but weren't they always? Amanda wasn't seeking victory from this, at least not in the traditional sense. It had been three moon cycles since Cavendish's arrival, and Amanda could not see how it was she'd been able to remain for quite so long.

Darting to the left, Amanda swung out, before abruptly changing the blades direction, eliciting a grunt of surprise from Cavendish as she leapt backwards.

Perfect.

Even with so many years of being a Knight under her belt, the code of chivalry still felt like more of a guide than a true set of rules. Amanda swung out a foot, and Cavendish stumbled, yelping as her back thumped into the ground.

Amanda wandered gleefully over, fully expecting her counterpart to leap upwards and continue the battle. Instead, a prone figure lay glassy eyed on the ground, panting softly.

Amanda nudged Cavendish with the toe of her boot.

"Oih. Up and at em'"

"You said come with an honest heart." Cavendish slowly rose up, smiling bitterly. "Did you not mean "up and at them, Princess?"."

There was a brief pause, before Amanda knocked back her head and let out a true crow of victory.