A Heart Revealed in Combat

In the ring, Farkas redeemed himself in the eyes of all after losing in half a second to Nevusa. He'd already disarmed and flattened Gen, and now, as Sine sprang at him, he whirled around, his sword following the motion, and caught her just below the chest with the flat. She let out a breathless yelp and flew back, landing hard on her rump just outside the ring.

"Match!" someone called.

Nevusa grinned broadly, impressed. Farkas winked at her and stepped out of the ring. He looked down at the panting Forsworn. "You okay?"

She sat up, growling something rude in her native language. "Just...my pride."

Nevusa stepped up, this time dropping both her weapons to the ground. "Anyone wish to try me again?"

A female Khajiit stepped forward. "Ashvana saw how fast you are," she purred. "She wishes to try against you."

"Excellent!" Nevusa grinned. "You know, I've never sparred with a Khajiit before. This'll be fun."

"No claws," warned someone from the sidelines.

Ashvana looked over at him haughtily. "Of course not. This is a friendly match." She stepped into the ring, half-crouching, and grinned at Nevusa. "Come, little Dunmer girl. You are fast. Let us see how fast you are!"

"Hopefully fast enough to ruffle that ridiculously fluffy fur of yours." Nevusa crouched down. "Really though, what do you use? You'd be the envy of every noble house in Necrom."

"Cold water, off the ice." She grinned.

"Ah, I'll have to try that before going back to the land of heat and ash." Nevusa nodded. "Okay. Enough hair talk, though I could keep that up. Let's do this!"

Ashvana charged first, light and balanced. She struck at Nevusa, quick and hard, ready for counter-strikes. Her fur was almost deceptive: there was a layer of hard muscle underneath that thick fluff.

Nevusa blocked with her forearm but instead swept with her foot, seeing if Ashvana was paying attention. The Khajiit was expecting this; she avoided the swipe easily, and aimed another blow at Nevusa's collar as she did. Nevusa ducked and rolled to the side, fully expecting retaliation while she was down there. As she came up, Ashvana half-pounced, snatching at her to knock her back to the ground.

Instead of trying to dodge or duck, Nevusa let her, going with the fall instead of against it and using the momentum to keep going so that she was more or less on top.

"So fluffy!" Nevusa had to turn her head away a bit, spitting out a mouthful of fuzz. Ashvana took advantage of her moment of distraction, catching Nevusa around the waist with her legs and heaving, rolling until she was again on top.

Nevusa scooted backwards, shoving her hip not quite into Ashvana. As soon as she was on her hands and knees, she tucked her rump and swung her legs under and around, shoving her back into Ashvana and scraping her off. She twisted and leaped to her feet, free. Ashvana let out a little growl of enjoyment and sprang to her feet, her tail lashing. She waited for half a second for Nevusa to be prepared, then lunged for her again.

Nevusa dropped low, her knee scraping the ground, catching one leg but Ashvana was too fast to allow her to grab both. She didn't let up though. She surged to her feet and rammed a shoulder sideways. The Khajiit flipped over her back-but in a move that was almost as panicked as it was practiced, she grabbed hold of Nevusa's waist, latching onto the cloth and armor with claws half-extended. Nevusa was jerked off-balance, and both went down hard. Nevusa felt the air leave her lungs in a rush but didn't stop. She grabbed whatever she could, dirt, armor, fuzz, and pushed off whatever purchase her boots could grab, determined to keep on top of the writhing Khajiit.

They rolled from end to end of the ring, first one on top, then the other, both struggling to rise and keep the other down at the same time. Nevusa refused to give in. She was not used to losing and she wasn't ready to start now. They finally managed to gain their feet at the same time, and faced off for half a second, before lunging at each other in a flurry of strikes and kicks.

Drelasa watched in partial amusement as the spar devolved into a spat, with both women tearing at each other's hair. She would give it another few moments before she froze their feet to the ground. Veleth, while everyone else was distracted, moved off, his interest in watching others spar low while he was struggling to keep his own abilities in check.

Drelasa, as it turned out, didn't have to do anything. Lucia had seen her mother deal with the Companions often enough to know where the water buckets were and what to do with them, and while she was still young, she had impressive aim. A cascade of cold brine suddenly crashed down over the two combatants, who froze, gasping.

"Wonderful aim, darling." Drelasa smiled, watching them sputter.

"If Mama had to come out again..." Lucia lowered the bucket, putting her other hand on her hip primly. "I was a little scared to do it with the others...but Ashvana's not that much older than me."

Drelasa flicked her hand, the ice crystals forming on her fingers falling away. "Never be afraid to tell idiots to grow a brain," she said.

She looked over at Zak, and where Veleth had wandered off. "Yeah," she whispered, "but they're really grown-ups. And Veleth was getting...scary."

"That...I'm afraid was less being an idiot and more something more sinister acting on them." Drelasa said with a frown. "My son is strong...and it attracted an even stronger being who has a voracious and bloodthirsty appetite. Normally she is content to leave him be; but now she seems to be requiring more."

Lucia shivered. "Back when she'd just become my mama, Mama found something in Whiterun that made her...almost like that. I could see she didn't like it, but it made her...angry. A lot. She didn't know I'd see: her eyes would change. They'd get hungry. And then she'd shake her head and hiss 'No!', and breathe really hard and...get control again. But after she came back from going all the way up to the ice fields in the Sea of Ghosts, she was back to normal again."

"Sometimes...in order to overcome darkness, one must become stronger." Drelasa said. "Though that strength does not always equal physical strength."

"Maybe he could talk to her about it," Lucia said. "I don't know what she did...but it worked."

Drelasa smiled. "I will mention it to him. Perhaps your mother will have the answer he needs."

"Hopefully." Lucia turned, looking surprised. "Oh...that one really tall Elf is talking with Drizzt. I wonder...what he's saying?"

The ring had remained vacant for several moments after Ashvana and Nevusa had gotten carried away. It was at that point that Gyrmallion walked over to Drizzt. "If you don't mind...would you spar with me?"

Drizzt looked at him, then smiled. "I would. Like Drelasa said...you can get the measure of someone through their fighting. I would like to...take your measure."

Gyrmallion answered with a smile. "I'd have asked Nerevar, but Nevano seems to have...disappeared."

Suddenly Drelasa was glad Nevano had run off. There was no force in Oblivion that would have convinced her to allow that spar to happen. Drizzt had the best control out of everyone here, and an impressive mastery of his emotions. Nevano lay at the opposite end of that scale. Nerevar could not maintain the energy for a full spar on his own. He and Nevano tended to blend their fighting styles if they fought together...something that was highly effective in confusing their opponents. Nevano did not trust Gyrmallion in the slightest and would not allow Nerevar that control.

"Later." She said with a hint of a warning. "Nerevar is still connected to another, remember."

"There...is that." He seemed regretful. "Perhaps later, then." He glanced and Drizzt and walked into the ring, the Drow following.

"Hopefully soon..." she murmured. She hoped. It was something she desperately wished for Nevano...to learn to let things go. This wasn't a grudge to hold. She knew Nevano was watching from somewhere safe, away from her. She hoped something about this impressed on him.

The start of the sparring match was similar to what Drizzt had done with Zak: a fast warm-up. Only in this case, the opponents were also sounding each other out. It was quickly apparent that the fighting styles they'd been trained with were very different; it was also clear that they were both skilled enough not to let it bother them. After less than a minute, they started moving, back and forth, circling each other; each one looking for a weakness to exploit.

Gyrmallion used his height and reach to his advantage, not that he had much of one, because Drizzt was using his speed to his own advantage. They were, at least in this early point of the spar, evenly matched.

Drelasa watched. Though she was highly impressed with their skill, she felt so very tired suddenly. There were so many problems she did not have any good answer to...but at least this was going right. A small thing, but still a good thing.

As they started moving faster, growing more intense, Drizzt started noticing a few things. Gyrmallion seemed always alert for what was around him, particularly for whatever was behind him. And not in a way that was alert for treachery. At one point, the Drow started to feint toward the right, half-noticing that Lucia stood-well behind the boundary mark-on that side. Gyrmallion instantly answered the feint with a full step to the right, his own blade darting in a strike that forced Drizzt back on the defensive. He barely seemed to realize he'd done it as he responded with a flurry of attacks that briefly pushed the Drow back.

After that, Drizzt started testing it; whenever he noticed someone fairly close to the boundary behind Gyrmallion, he'd start a deliberate move in that direction, whether as a feint or as a motion to get behind him. Each time, the Altmer would intercept him, harder than he did if the space behind them was clear.

Drelasa raised an eyebrow once she caught on to what Drizzt was doing. This Altmer was definitely different than the others...especially with that protective streak in him.

Whether Gyrmallion realized what Drizzt was doing or not, he started a few tactics of his own. The Drow could only call it 'taunting'-though neither of them really had the breath to say anything. Each dodge, each maneuver, suddenly came with a little snap of his sword, not hard enough to break skin or do more than nick, even if they connected. They were teasing blows designed to anger an opponent and make them careless.

Drizzt, far from being angered, was impressed. It was a clever tactic, and in a genuine fight, especially one that might become dangerously prolonged, would give the Altmer a needed edge.

Drizzt changed tactics again, moving faster and more unpredictably, not forcing Gyrmallion into the unconscious defense of others this time, but making him react to an opponent who refused to stand still. They'd been moving before, but now he was going faster and wider, trying to flank Gyrmallion or get behind him. It proved exceptionally difficult; the lanky Altmer was just as agile as him, able to read his movements well enough to twist around and keep from being flanked.

Very skilled, Drelasa thought. Thalmor were skilled, yes, but this one far more so. She nodded. Nerevar was right.

Finally, Drizzt ended it. They'd been going at each other for a while, long enough to get a decent understanding of each other, if the grin on Gyrmallion's face was any indicator. He started to the left-then blurred to the right while Gyrmallion was still trying to block him on the left. The Altmer caught on faster than most to the infamous move known as the ghost step, and he'd almost twisted back to block an oncoming stroke from the right.

But he wasn't fast enough. Drizzt caught him, scything his legs out from under him. Unbelievably, Gyrmallion didn't fall all the way-he caught himself, and was almost upright again when he froze, Drizzt's blade by his throat. For half a second, they stared at each other. Then Gyrmallion smiled and lowered his blade. "Match."

Drizzt answered the smile and sheathed his blades, then offered his hand. He didn't really need to help the Altmer up, and they both knew it, but Gyrmallion accepted the hand and let the much shorter Drow pull him up.

Drelasa smiled as she turned to go. If there was one Altmer who could change the mind of an entire nation of suspicious mer-no, an entire continent of doubters-it was this one.

It was doubtful any of the Companions realized that the Altmer had been a Thalmor until a little while ago. It was also unlikely at this point that any of them cared, judging by their reaction. They'd seen an impressive fight between two skilled warriors-and the more astute of them had seen the skill and honor he'd displayed. It was likely that, were they asked, they would have happily accepted Gyrmallion into their ranks as a new Shield-Brother that night.