Pen works out with Ciri and Avallac'h, a question she does not wish to answer, and another difficult task asked of her.

Ciri watched Pen move through a Kata, slow and precise. Speed did not seem the point of her movements. She showed Ciri, had her copy her movements.

"...This is more of a meditation..." Pen explained. "A warrior is not made fully of strength and steel...to teach patience, control."

She glared at Avallac'h who had accompanied them to Dojo. She dared him to make a smart comment, as she was well aware that it was not in Ciri's vocabulary. The Sage was wisely silent.

"Each movement, performed slow writes itself into muscle and then..." She performed the movements at speed. "...Speed is gained when one learns to move."

Pen watched Ciri try the movements, remembering from her own teachers.

~The monsters that walk on two legs are the most dangerous~ She remembered Lochain saying. ~they can think, react and plan...~

Yes, she had long ago found there were more two-legged monsters than the preternatural ones. Ciri most likely learned that too. She adjusted Ciri's stance, showing her where the balance was off. Ciri's stubbornness soon became clear. Yes, the Witcheress was a skilled fighter but held none of Warrior's graces. By the end of the session, she deemed not to acknowledge Avallac'h's knowing smirk.

Pen soon wiped that smirk off, challenging him to a sparring session. She had studied the tactics of the Red riders soon after the arrival of the Aen Elle. She hadn't fully mastered them but had enough to spar with one who's skills were rusty. It was a good work out, he had retained enough to make her work for it. It ended with her practice weapon scrapping against his ribs.

"I yield..." Avallac'h said between pants.

Pen smiled if she'd been wielding her blades that scratch would have given him a devil of a time trying to heal.

Ciri was surprised that Pen could keep up, near witcher level of speed. She had to ask when both had cooled down.

"...A lot of teachers." Pen said. "and a very arrogant Elf prince..."

Nuada entered from the hall, his shortened lance resting on his shoulder.

"I was not arrogant..." He said. "Aethen said you'd be here, I see you already got your workout...

"I could go another round..." she said. "Steel?"

"Do we dance with any less..."

"No, we do not..." Pen said going to the gear she'd brought and bringing out her nested blades. "...Let's dance..."

She drew her blades in a smooth movement, this was always fun.

The match ended it what appeared to be a draw. But Nuada grunted and reached to wipe away a small line of blood on his wrist. He knew the protocol when scratched with one of her blades.

"Go get that treated..." Pen said. "Before it goes septic..."

"As my lady commands..." Nuada said "...a good strike...I will see you a bit later."

Ciri wondered what Pen was talking about it was a scratch.

"My blades were made with silver and an iron core." Pen said. "Two things that are deadly to the unseen. If he does not treat the wound, well I'll be brewing up a different kind of antidote...It would make what I gave Avallac'h seem pleasant."

Pen watched The sage turn a shade of green at the memory. Ciri frowned, which had not been pleasant for her either.

"I was not always a Lady, nor a freeholder." Pen said. "I will not speak of the past, for it is painful for both he and I..."

Her words were a clear indication they would get no more out of her on the subject.

Nuada waited for Pen in her study. The expression upon her face said she had been asked a question she had not wanted to answer. It also said she had answered it with as much tact as she could.

"...They asked of my blades." Pen said. "If I had said, I think Avallac'h would have gone cold to me."

What Pen had been was not much talked about let alone acknowledged in royal circles. To be what she was, it meant there was a dire fear of madness. He took her into his arms, held her to his heart.

"...Should must ever my heart stop, let it be by rose and thorn." Nuada whispered. "for I know they shall follow."

The words that bound them, not only in love. He held her like that for some time before they spoke again.

"...So many knots..." Pen said, leaning into him.

"Why do you think I chose them for our marriage tattoo..." He said. "...I would ask you to consider binding Crevan to your court when he wakes."

"Only three times to share my lady's bed, but I stand a lifetime beside her." Pen said, remembering Aethen's binding. "Are you sure you'd be ok with it a second time. Aethen was my closest friend when he was chosen as my guard...I thought you were going to slit his throat rather than mark him."

"...If Lochain hadn't told me the implications of him not being that close to you, I would have."

"I will think about it..."

He held her closer, hoping she would make the right decision.