Picket and Helmer circled each other, their swords flashing – well, not flashing, since they were wooden, but whirling in the air. The clanks when the blades met echoed htroughout the green.

Helmer slashed at Picket's head and Picket barely had time to duck the blow. It was so close he could feel the air whistling past his ears. Helmer came around with a slice at Picket's side, hitting him right below his ribs. Picket pulled in his breath, winching. That was going to be sore tomorrow.

Helmer paused the fight. "You weren't watching me," Helmer chided. "That blow would kill you if these were real swords. Always keep your attention on your opponent, no matter what's going on around you."

Picket nodded. "I'll try."

Helmer sighed exasperatedly. "No, you're not going to try. That's your problem. You try. You need to do it. There is no in between. You either do it or you don't. Got that, Ladybug?"

Picket nodded again. "Yes Master."

"Alright."

His master attacked again and Picket tried his best to predict and block each of his moves. He was doing pretty well, he thought. Helmer hadn't gotten a blow past him. Until, that is, Helmer kicked a nice pile of dust into his face and followed with a kick to the chest. Picket went down like a falling tower.

In less than a second, Helmer was over Picket, his sword point at Picket's chest. How does he move so fast? Picket wondered.

After a moment, Helmer stepped back. "Get up," he said, motioning with his sword. "Unless you need me to pull you up like an old grandmother doe."

Picket was standing before he finished talking. "I'm up."

"You were focusing too hard," Helmer said this time, "honing in on my sword movements but not the rest of my body. Your enemy will sense any weaknesses you have and exploit them. This was a big one. Stay alert at all times." As he finished talking, Helmer jumped forward as fast as lightning and brought his sword down on Picket. Picket saw it in time and brought his blade up to meet the strike. Helmer's blow packed such force that it sent tremor's up and down Picket's arm. Bringing his sword around, Helmer crashed again on Picket's blade and it flung out of his already weak grip.

Picket ran to retrieve it, but as he did, Helmer ran at him. Picket treid to dodge and duck stabs and slices as he tried to get close to his sword again. Picket leapt out of the way of a sword strike and tripped on a rock hidden in the grass, causing him to sprawl. Helmer leapt on him, kicking and striking at him again and again, though not so hard as to seriously hurt him.

"Enough, enough," Picket panted, trying to block his blows. "I'm down."

"You're never done in a battle until you're dead," Helmer replied, but he did allow Picket to get up and grab his sword before attacking him again.

Five minutes later, Picket was on the ground again getting a lecture about footing. "I struck once at your legs and you went over like a tree getting cut down," Helmer said. "At least try to stand your ground."

Picket nodded and rose. He turned to go over to the tree to get a drink from his water pouch, but Helmer's voice stopped him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Getting a drink," Picket answered in surprise.

"There are no breaks for drinking in a battle, lad," Helmer reprimanded. "Especially when I'm behind you."

Picket sighed. He did have a point. He would not like to be attacked while drinking, especially by Helmer.

This time, Picket was the one to attack. Perhaps Helmer was waiting for him, but then again, maybe he wasn't. Picket couldn't tell. Helmer met each blow easily, sending back a few of his own, but Picket still was happy to know that at least he was the first one to strike this time.

In no time, however, Helmer's sword was up against Picket's neck. "You had a breach in your defenses, so to speak," his master explained. "You were defending well on your left, but you neglected to stop my blow on your hip, coming in too late, so I was able to come in on your other side right up to your neck. That's dangerous in battle."

Picket nodded. "I'll remember that." He stored away this away along with the hundreds of other rebukes and reminders Helmer had given him over the past week and a half.

He stood a moment more, watching Helmer carefully, but giving himself a chance to breath. Helmer seemed to realize he needed a small break, as he wasn't paying any noticeable attention to Picket. That was when he was most dangerous, though, Picket reminded himself.

Picket tried to attack again, this time getting a clout on Helmer's leg before Helmer's sword came down. Picket poured all his efforts into the fight, blocking, stabbing, remembering his footing.

Picket swung around and, completely unintentionally, his sword swung up and hit Helmer on the chin. Picket stopped, frozen. Helmer looked undisturbed and rubbed his chin a little.

"Sorry," Picket stammered.

Helmer smirked. "There are no sorries in battle, lad. Take that back."

"Um, not sorry?"

Helmer nodded. "Better. Let's stop for today."

Picket nodded, suddenly uncertain. "How'd I do?"

Helmer frowned, looking up at the tree. "Well, let's put it this way. You're not abominably horrible anymore and I can stand to be around you."

Picket couldn't stop the grin from spreading over his face. It was sarcastic, true, but coming from Helmer, that was a big compliment.


This was fun! I'm definitely going to be writing more 5 plus 1 fics in the future. A lot more, I think. :)