Disclaimer: No AKT belong to me, fic is just for fun.
Thomas arrived back at the inn late the next morning, and without a word to Ismene, who was impatiently stalking to the bar, ran upstairs and appeared a few minutes later in costume.
"Sorry!" he cried as they left the inn. "I was...erm, delayed."
"Of course you were" Ismene said. "Pray tell, what delayed you?" she didn't want to know, but anything to make him uncomfortable.
"Erm...ah...erm...a dragon?"
"Oh, well it can't be helped then. I hope you have a rousing speech in mind?" They were nearing the sword ring and the crowd could already be heard.
"I don't know if I should...I mean, if I make the crowd like you and then you lose, they might boo you more."
"They might boo *you* more, you mean?"
They entered the stadium and Ismene donned the black mask. The other knight was introduced first; Baron Michel of Austria. When his applause had died down Thomas ran out. "My good people" he began. "...the knight you are about to behold is famous for many things, but perhaps they most renowned is his capture of a dragon." The crowd went quiet, uncertain either what a dragon was, or if they should have heard about this feat. "A fearsome creature, he captured it in The East, and has promised to show us it if he wins the tournament. Would you like to see it?" The crowd cheered their agreement. "Then please give your support to...Count Thomas of Bavaria!"
Ismene had been scanning the crowd throughout this soliloquy, and she spotted Geoffrey near the gates where the crowd was thinnest. He waved to her, and she waved back before walking into the ring, glad she would never have to deliver a dragon to the masses. She blocked out their noise and weighed up her opponent. Baron Michel wasn't very tall, but he was broad across the shoulders and strong, dark haired and handsome beneath a helm which only had a nose- guard, leaving his vision unimpeded. He regarded her intently as they began to circle, and when Ismene struck the first blow he parried it easily.
It was obvious that he was an experienced fighter – the way he waited for her to attack and tried to draw her into making mistakes were sure signs that he was not new to the tourney circuit. Ismene even thought she'd heard his name before, which wasn't surprising – he was Austrian so had probably fought in France.
She had to lose this fight – Thomas had made several wagers the day before to that end – so she dropped her guard deliberately on a few occasions, earning herself painful blows. She had to make him take her down, but he seemed to want to lengthen the fight. They parried back and forth for almost ten minutes, until finally he went on the offensive, showering her with blows she blocked more out of instinct than out of any want to score points. Steeling herself, she dropped her guard and when the Baron hit her square in the chest she didn't have to fake falling down. She lay winded, and the knight stood over her, the tip of his blade ticking her collarbone.
"Yield?"
"Yes"
Geoff was biting his nails as the fight went on, and when Ismene was felled he had to remind himself that he couldn't run out there to see if she was hurt. It had looked painful, but she was wearing mail and shouldn't be too damaged. The Baron was bowing to the crowd and Thomas was now running out to help Ismene to her feet.
They went back under the stand, which was kept free of spectators so the knights would have somewhere quiet to get ready, and Geoff made his way over, only to be barred by two guards.
"It's ok, let him in" Thomas called on seeing him arguing with the men. Ismene had taken off her mask and both she and Thomas were sat on the ground. Thomas, however, now held the sword.
"Are you alright?" Geoff knelt beside her.
"I think so. That hurt..." she grimaced. "a lot."
"I'd better go and get changed" Thomas said. "then I can collect the winnings."
"Good idea. Then you can pay for a surgeon's services – I think I broke a rib." Ismene rubbed her chest tentatively.
"Do you want a doctor?" Geoff looked worried.
"No...I don't think it's that bad" she smiled "I'll just have a really amazing bruise tomorrow" She made to stand, and Geoff quickly steadied her with a hand on her back.
"Careful" he said, "We'll go to my tent." It was quite near, and once they'd arrived at the slow pace Ismene managed, he brought her water which she drank gratefully, before pulling off her mail with his gentle help. All she wore underneath was a soft leather jerkin, and he turned away when she lifted it to examine herself. "I'm just a bit bruised" she said. "...but nothing feels broken." She'd seen all manner of injuries before, and this was by no means life-threatening. "It'd be bad if I had to fight again, but I don't, so all is well."
Just then, Thomas appeared at the entrance. "Am I interrupting anything?"
"No, come in" Geoff replied. "Ismene's just discovered she'll live."
"Of course she will," Thomas said, stepping inside. "and so will I – like a king!" He threw down several bags of coin onto the floor of the tent and one spilled open, gold falling out to glint beckoningly.
"Christ, Thomas!" Ismene blasphemed. "Did you win all this?"
"Not *all* of it. A third is Geoff's."
Geoffrey grinned as Ismene looked at him in mixed disbelief and pride.
"You're a dark horse!"
"A poor writer has to make a living somehow" he said.
Thomas arrived back at the inn late the next morning, and without a word to Ismene, who was impatiently stalking to the bar, ran upstairs and appeared a few minutes later in costume.
"Sorry!" he cried as they left the inn. "I was...erm, delayed."
"Of course you were" Ismene said. "Pray tell, what delayed you?" she didn't want to know, but anything to make him uncomfortable.
"Erm...ah...erm...a dragon?"
"Oh, well it can't be helped then. I hope you have a rousing speech in mind?" They were nearing the sword ring and the crowd could already be heard.
"I don't know if I should...I mean, if I make the crowd like you and then you lose, they might boo you more."
"They might boo *you* more, you mean?"
They entered the stadium and Ismene donned the black mask. The other knight was introduced first; Baron Michel of Austria. When his applause had died down Thomas ran out. "My good people" he began. "...the knight you are about to behold is famous for many things, but perhaps they most renowned is his capture of a dragon." The crowd went quiet, uncertain either what a dragon was, or if they should have heard about this feat. "A fearsome creature, he captured it in The East, and has promised to show us it if he wins the tournament. Would you like to see it?" The crowd cheered their agreement. "Then please give your support to...Count Thomas of Bavaria!"
Ismene had been scanning the crowd throughout this soliloquy, and she spotted Geoffrey near the gates where the crowd was thinnest. He waved to her, and she waved back before walking into the ring, glad she would never have to deliver a dragon to the masses. She blocked out their noise and weighed up her opponent. Baron Michel wasn't very tall, but he was broad across the shoulders and strong, dark haired and handsome beneath a helm which only had a nose- guard, leaving his vision unimpeded. He regarded her intently as they began to circle, and when Ismene struck the first blow he parried it easily.
It was obvious that he was an experienced fighter – the way he waited for her to attack and tried to draw her into making mistakes were sure signs that he was not new to the tourney circuit. Ismene even thought she'd heard his name before, which wasn't surprising – he was Austrian so had probably fought in France.
She had to lose this fight – Thomas had made several wagers the day before to that end – so she dropped her guard deliberately on a few occasions, earning herself painful blows. She had to make him take her down, but he seemed to want to lengthen the fight. They parried back and forth for almost ten minutes, until finally he went on the offensive, showering her with blows she blocked more out of instinct than out of any want to score points. Steeling herself, she dropped her guard and when the Baron hit her square in the chest she didn't have to fake falling down. She lay winded, and the knight stood over her, the tip of his blade ticking her collarbone.
"Yield?"
"Yes"
Geoff was biting his nails as the fight went on, and when Ismene was felled he had to remind himself that he couldn't run out there to see if she was hurt. It had looked painful, but she was wearing mail and shouldn't be too damaged. The Baron was bowing to the crowd and Thomas was now running out to help Ismene to her feet.
They went back under the stand, which was kept free of spectators so the knights would have somewhere quiet to get ready, and Geoff made his way over, only to be barred by two guards.
"It's ok, let him in" Thomas called on seeing him arguing with the men. Ismene had taken off her mask and both she and Thomas were sat on the ground. Thomas, however, now held the sword.
"Are you alright?" Geoff knelt beside her.
"I think so. That hurt..." she grimaced. "a lot."
"I'd better go and get changed" Thomas said. "then I can collect the winnings."
"Good idea. Then you can pay for a surgeon's services – I think I broke a rib." Ismene rubbed her chest tentatively.
"Do you want a doctor?" Geoff looked worried.
"No...I don't think it's that bad" she smiled "I'll just have a really amazing bruise tomorrow" She made to stand, and Geoff quickly steadied her with a hand on her back.
"Careful" he said, "We'll go to my tent." It was quite near, and once they'd arrived at the slow pace Ismene managed, he brought her water which she drank gratefully, before pulling off her mail with his gentle help. All she wore underneath was a soft leather jerkin, and he turned away when she lifted it to examine herself. "I'm just a bit bruised" she said. "...but nothing feels broken." She'd seen all manner of injuries before, and this was by no means life-threatening. "It'd be bad if I had to fight again, but I don't, so all is well."
Just then, Thomas appeared at the entrance. "Am I interrupting anything?"
"No, come in" Geoff replied. "Ismene's just discovered she'll live."
"Of course she will," Thomas said, stepping inside. "and so will I – like a king!" He threw down several bags of coin onto the floor of the tent and one spilled open, gold falling out to glint beckoningly.
"Christ, Thomas!" Ismene blasphemed. "Did you win all this?"
"Not *all* of it. A third is Geoff's."
Geoffrey grinned as Ismene looked at him in mixed disbelief and pride.
"You're a dark horse!"
"A poor writer has to make a living somehow" he said.