Finally finished this chapter, two weeks after I thought I was going to. As it turns out, fight scenes are hard to write. Oh well. I hope everyone had good winter holidays, and as always I appreciate any and all comments, especially constructive criticism. Enjoy!

Eragon ducked into the arch next to Calarel's kitchen, and emerged holding two expertly made wooden likenesses of swords. He tossed one to Corrin. "Test the balance of that," he commanded, and strode over to Kiera's side himself.

"If I remember correctly," he began, examining Kiera's head and neck with brisk efficiency, "Kiera should be six months old by now, correct?"

Yes, Ebrithil, Kiera confirmed.

"And how old are you, Corrin?" the older Rider asked, peering into Kiera's open mouth at her teeth.

"Seventeen," Corrin answered quickly, then amended, "Ebrithil."

"Good. And as I recall, Kiera has not yet breathed fire, and neither of you has shown any sign of magic as yet?"

Corrin answered in the affirmative, though he felt a tiny trickle of shame for the latter. He wondered if Leah and Varog had their magic yet, but it didn't seem the time to ask.

Eragon nodded, accepting the answers with no sign of disapproval. "That's fine," he assured absently, as he motioned to Kiera to spread her wings out. "I've already seen that you both have a working knowledge of the ancient language, and as far as I can tell Kiera is healthy, so you both are at a good starting place for the next phase of your training." Their master stepped back, nodding to himself, and then turned back towards Corrin.

"Leah," he commanded abruptly, and picked up the other wooden sword to offer the hilt to her. He gestured towards Corrin. "Let's see how much swordwork our young friend knows."

Leah flashed Corrin a stunningly bright grin. Then she gave a wild war cry and lunged towards him with a powerful overhand swing.

Corrin made a very unmanly yelping noise and scrambled out of her way. Leah aimed the backswing at him even as her momentum carried her past, and Corrin barely got his own blade up in time to prevent a bloody nose.

"Preferably without seriously injuring him," Eragon amended mildly.

Leah shrugged and leaned forwards to stab at Corrin's torso. Corrin batted it aside.

You should hit her back, Kiera informed him helpfully.

Yes, thank you, Kiera, I'm working on it, he grumbled, struggling to parry Leah's attacks without losing his balance.

Kiera was silent for a moment, during which Corrin received several bruises and narrowly avoided being disarmed. She's a better swordsman than you, the dragon observed.

Swordswoman, he corrected, retreating backwards to avoid her blade, and yes, I'd noticed.

Leah abruptly knocked his blade aside and swept his feet with much the same move Varog had used on her in their earlier sparring session. Corrin crashed painfully onto his leg and hip.

"Again," Eragon commanded.

Corrin gamely rose to his feet, trying to set his feet in a good stance. As he stood, Kiera mused thoughtfully in a corner of his mind. You won't be able to compete with her with skill, she advised. If you want to make a good showing of yourself, do something that she won't expect. Surprise them. You might even win.

Fair enough, he replied. So what can I do that she won't see coming? He regarded Leah as each of them waited for the other to make a move. Leah watched him unblinking. Her eyes, he realized, were the same fawn-brown as her dragon's. This momentary realization distracted him just enough that when Leah jumped forth again, Corrin was too startled to do more than slap ineffectively at her weapon with his own. She stabbed him in the gut hard enough to double him over.

"Leah," Eragon warned, a bit of an edge in his voice. The young Rider backed off, and Corrin straightened up to find his master looking at him with concern. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, Ebrithil." Corrin nodded fervently.

Eragon frowned for a moment, then shrugged and gestured for Leah to hand her wooden sword over to him. She relinquished it without protest, and Eragon himself took up a fighting stance opposite Corrin.

I've got it, Kiera announced in the back of his mind.

Please, Corrin answered, enlighten me.

Do you remember when Arya and Firnen told us the story of Galbatorix's defeat? Eragon couldn't defeat him with skill at arms or skill in gramarye, so he used an angle of approach that Galbatorix could not anticipate. When the Mad King expected him to resort to brute violence, he used communication instead. Eragon won because he defied the expectation of his enemy.

So…, Corrin said, trying to think it through, I need to figure out what my opponent will expect based on how they see me, and then do something different from that?

In essence, yes.

Corrin broke his stance long enough to roll out one shoulder, which was growing sore from hefting the weight of the sword. That was very wise, Kiera, he commented. I should ask you for fighting advice more often.

Well, she demurred, preening. It's just basic strategy. The hunter never wants to be where their prey expects them, for then the hunted have a chance to strike back.

Kiera retreated to the edge of his mind to let him concentrate, and Corrin was left to his own thoughts. Unfortunately, Eragon chose that moment to go on the offensive. Corrin frantically deflected and backed up several steps. Alright, he began, dodging a swing at his head, how does he see me?

A few simplistic answers presented themselves. Corrin knew that he was already far younger and less experienced than his master, and he looked less than his age besides. His fight against Leah had undoubtedly revealed that he knew little of the sword, and he was a young, common-born human, which made it unlikely that he had any substantial training in strategy.

Out of all those, his youth and his sword skills were probably most indicative of his possible actions. He had been a part of his fair share of street scuffles in Aberon, and he knew that inexperienced and outmatched boys would almost invariably try to charge their opponent, hoping to surprise their enemy and overpower their defenses for a quick victory.

There's my answer, then. Ebrithil Eragon had undoubtedly grown up with other boys in Carvahall; he'd expect based on past experience that Corrin would try a berserker-style charge. Perhaps Kiera should be the one teaching me the sword, he thought, and grinned.

Corrin switched his grip on the sword, met Eragon's eyes, and took a step forward as though preparing to run straight at him. However, he pushed to the side instead of running forward, and when Eragon moved his sword to deflect an attack from the front, Corrin had a perfect opening to swing at his shoulder. He aimed, swung… and then Eragon managed to duck his shoulder out of the way, and Corrin overbalanced and half-fell to the stone.

He scrambled back to his feet in time to catch Eragon's attack with his own blade. His opening had disappeared, and the same trick certainly wouldn't fool his master twice. "Drat," he said aloud without meaning to.

Eragon laughed, and then suddenly disengaged and backed a few steps away. "You aren't bad, actually. Certainly better than Varog was when he first got here. All he knew was axes. You'll need to fix that footwork, though." He bit his lip a moment in thought, then walked over and demonstrated a quick series of three moves with the sword. "Try that."

Corrin had to practice three times before Eragon was satisfied, but when his master unexpectedly attacked him in such a way that he naturally resorted to the new moves, he performed the series well enough to knock Eragon back a few feet. Kiera sent him a quick mental image of Leah and Varog's surprised faces.

"Very good," Eragon said. "I think we'll hardly need to worry about difficulties in swordwork."

Corrin smiled shyly and handed the wooden practice sword back to him.

Not many dragons beside Kiera in this chapter, but I promise the next chapter will make up for it. Until next time!