'Again.' Mordred demanded, arms crossed over his chest. Gellert groaned and lifted his sword once more. His shirt was plastered to his skin and he was grateful for the chilly air that cooled him down.
'Slowly.' Berg begged from his position, sprawled in the snow. The longer that Gellert lasted against Hermione, the longer Berg's break would be.
Then Hermione was on him; she wielded Mordred's sword, arching it down through the air with lethal speed. Gellert desperately brought up his own blade to block it. They met with a resounding clang which reverberated up his arm. He stepped sideways, allowing the joined blades to whistle down where he'd stood just a moment before. Steel slithered against steel as Hermione slipped hers upwards, twisting and flicking with the tip of her blade. She stepped in close and Gellert stumbled backwards hastily, feet still aching from when she'd driven her heel into it last time.
'Don't let him distract you.' Mordred warned Hermione. Gellert had no idea how he was distracting her, but just incase Mordred was right, he feinted for her left shoulder, then sidestepped and twisted in a move that he'd learned with the rapier.
'Nice try.' The knight praised, even as Hermione hastily arched herself sideways around the blade. He pressed the momentary advantage, following up with a heavy overhead blow to her vulnerable left side. Hermione preferred evasion and deflection to blocking because that was when Gellert could bring his extra foot of height and greater strength to bear, particularly in the overhead blow where Hermione was fighting gravity and the weight of their two blades as well.
She gritted her teeth and tried to step backwards but Gellert followed, not giving her an inch. Hermione gave up and stepped in instead, her chest almost pressed up against his. He blocked her raised knee with his own and risked taking one hand off his blade to... he wasn't quite sure, because he didn't really want to punch her in the face.
Hermione took advantage of his hesitation, dropping her whole body down. The sudden downwards motion unbalanced him and he almost stumbled forwards, having to take a half step to recover. Hermione hooked that foot with her knee as she rolled sideways, bringing him crashing down into the snow.
Gellert barely managed to avoid impaling himself on his own blade as he threw both hands out to stabilise himself. By luck, the flailing point caught Hermione, snagging her shirt with a sickening tear. The blunted tip missed her body as she jumped backwards, slipping on the packed snow and ice of their makeshift arena. Determined to win for once, Gellert threw himself at her almost recklessly, hammering two overhand blows down onto her with ringing force.
Berg whooped in support and Hermione's third block faltered. She lashed out with her foot but hit his boot. Next to the burn of his arms, that pain was nothing. He hammered down again, putting his whole body into the locked blades. Then he took his left hand off and laid it over hers, working her fingers off. She kicked him again and he put his knee on her ankle, holding it down.
'Yield.' Hermione finally grunted. Berg cheered, punching the air.
'Good work, Gellert.' Mordred praised, his boots crunching as he came closer.
'Look out!' Berg cried. Gellert flinched, then froze as steel kissed his rib cage.
'Good fight.' Mordred repeated from right behind him. 'Just remember that on a real battlefield, you're not only fighting one enemy. Don't let a win lower your guard.'
Gellert climbed up, exhaustion weighing his limbs more heavily than the reminder ever could.
Mordred's sword shimmered out of existence, the hilt reappearing in the sheath at his side. Mutinously, Gellert thought that if he'd had to draw it like a mortal blade, he would have heard it and reacted. A little voice reminded him that that was unlikely but he ignored it.
'Hermione, sit this one out.' Mordred instructed, hauling the young witch back to her feet. Unlike Gellert and Berg, she wore her full set of battle robes, including the underdress and layers. He could only assume she was sweltering, because if there hadn't been a witch present he would have stripped down to his bare chest several bouts ago.
'You two, wands out.' Mordred instructed, pointing at the two boys.
'Don't make me duel him.' Berg complained, even as he obediently pulled out his wand.
'It's him or her.' Mordred offered, pointing at Hermione. The witch bared her teeth. If it wasn't for the way her hair escaped from it's braids and clung to rouged cheeks, Gellert would have thought her unaffected.
Gellert pulled out the elder wand, grinning as the familiar power snaked up his hand, refreshing him as though he'd just slept for a week. He noticed the knight send the wand an odd look, but thought little of it. It had an odd appearance and he knew that Mordred had very little experience with wands in general - they had barely existed as more than materials wrapped around sticks when he'd been alive.
The two boys built their wards on each other, then tested them with a couple of minor jinxes before pulling apart. Mordred didn't bother to count them in, just rocked back on his heels and flicked his hand. He had enough understanding to critique their technique and strategy, but as far as spells went, they were more than capable anyway.
Berg went first, taking the initiative to hit hard and fast against Gellert's shield with three successive, concussive hits. The their flashed almost blindingly bright, leaving him seeing spots and with no idea where Berg had moved to. On a hunch, Gellert pulled his shield in close and waved his wand, throwing up snow between them, blinking rapidly to clear his vision.
He shot a random array of spells, all half formed and barely more than flashes of light, eyes peeled for the distinctive silver of spell against shield.
It didn't come, but Berg was as blinded by the snow as he was and he quickly resorted to a similar tactic, giving away his position. Gellert heard Mordred's voice scolding Berg for giving away the advantage as he shot off a wardbreaker, the elder wand humming pleasurably beneath his fingers. The white bolt struck with a crack like a snapping branch, breaking open Berg's shield like an egg.
He slashed his wand, hoping that his war breaker had left his opponents hand numb and tingly. Berg was forced to use his wand for a shield, hand hanging uselessly by his side, so he couldn't retaliate as Gellert slammed jinx after hex into the silvery barrier.
But Gellert knew Berg's off hand would be recovered before he was tired out that way, his wand kept flicking out spells as a distraction; a random litany of spells carefully chosen in a multicoloured kata to include plenty of purple and no green. Berg would probably recognise it soon enough - they'd learned the same kata together, designed to wear out a shield without spooking the defender into dodging.
He summoned something from behind the shield, checking to see if there was a weakness behind, or weakness to non-magical items. There wasn't.
He threw a blasting curse in an attempt to spook Berg into doing something different, which didn't work. That was a trick his brother rarely fell for.
He conjured some water, then tried performing a switching spell between the air inside the shield and a mount of snow.
It worked, Berg dropped the shield and blasted the snow away. He managed a small kite shield in his off hand, just in time for Gellert to hit it with another wardbreaker, then a tripping hex brought him down. Berg didn't bother trying to fight his way back after that, he just tossed his wand aside irritably.
'Two wardbreakers in as many minutes?' The younger boy hissed, shaking out his hand. 'Plus a Jameson Spell Series? I don't even know why I bother anymore.'
'Power isn't everything.' Mordred chided, 'Gellert was so busy keeping up his rate of castling that he would have struggled to adapt if you'd gone on the offensive.'
'Sure.' Berg replied sourly.
'Besides, he has to duel Hermione now - after all that rather inefficient casting.'
Hermione grinned wickedly, taking Berg's spot.
But Gellert was feeling rather good about himself. He didn't feel at all tired and the Elder Wand felt so much better in his hand than his old wand ever had. Hermione might be a better duellist, but with Mordred's rules forbidding her drawing on either sect or family magic, he perhaps had her beaten for sheer power.
Like he had with Berg, they cast protective wards over each other. Mordred waved for them to start, and it was on.
Hermione was a very different dueller to Berg. She lashed out immediately, hurling curses from both hand and wand which he struggled to deflect. But he knew this tactic - she'd been using it since he figured out that he could hit her before she managed one of her nasty area effect spells. It only took a single blasting curse to force her to erect a shield which halved her offensive speed.
He smashed it with another wardbreaker, barely revelling in the fact that he'd cast three within minutes of each other.
Hermione was much more mobile than Berg, she didn't use her wand to cast another shield. Instead she threw herself into the offensive even harder, wand sparking as spells flew out, hitting and changing his environment unpredictably enough that he couldn't just use a shield.
Desperate to hold her still for just a moment whilst her left hand was useless, he sent several tongues of flame, melting the ice, then freezing her feet to the ground. She bellowed a blasting curse and he dove sideways as the thick bolt of power slammed into the ground and did... he swore, realising that it had been a decoy.
Hermione freed herself, he refrozen the water, earning himself an irritated volley of curses and another blasting curse - a real one. He shielded smugly with his off hand, then hissed as Hermione pounded it with a variation of a wardbreaker. He managed to drop the shield in time to prevent the worst of the numbness, but Hermione was ready with a blasting spell.
She was flagging though - that last wardbreaker had been monstrous, as had the two blasting curses. Oddly, he felt fine. He shouldn't be - Mordred hadn't been lying about his inefficient casting. The Elder Wand sang in his hand and Gellert remembered his mother saying that Hermione's magic was inefficient when a wand tried to channel it; was it having that much of an effect?
His distraction cost him as Hermione got back on the offensive, and finally managed to get a hold on the air around him with her ambient magic, evaporating the snow into steam. He swiped with his wand, conjuring a wave of emerald fire which seared through the mist.
Shocked, concentrating on her enchantment, Hermione barely responded in time to deflect his volley of stunners with her wand.
He pressed forwards, conjuring a handful of snakes and a sending rocks flying at her. Her teeth were gritted with effort now, her hair escaping it's braids furiously. He grinned, almost tasting his first victory over Hermione since she'd met Mordred.
He conjured some bees, then some birds, then transfigured the mound of snow behind her, then shot a disarming charm which bounced off his transfigured snow, and slipped past her guard as she faced him with her kite shield.
Her cry of shock was glorious.
He summoned her wand to his hand with a flick of his wrist.
'Very good.' Mordred praised. Gellert grinned offering Hermione back her wand. He felt positively buoyant; as though he could float away.
'That was incredible.' Berg enthused, recovered from his bitterness over their earlier bout. 'I thought you'd be done for after those two ward breakers during our fight. I can't believe you pulled another out.'
'This wand channels my magic really well.' Gellert admitted, lifting the elder wand.
'You're using the elder wand.' Hermione huffed. 'So that doesn't count.'
'It counts.'
'No it doesn't. You're using a powerful artefact to supplement your casting ability.' Hermione sniffed, and Gellert couldn't decide if she was actually joking or just being a poor loser. He'd never noticed her being so immature before.
'It's just a wand, Hermione.' He shook his head, tucking the wand back into it's holster. 'I won.'
Mordred stepped up behind Hermione; that odd look was back on his face.
'I don't think so. It feels awful and I don't like the way it twist your magic around.' Hermione folded her arms over her chest.
'You're just jealous that your wand doesn't cast as well as this one does.' Gellert huffed, matching her posture. 'I beat you. Get over it.'
If possible, Hermione's expression darkened even further and she glanced over at Berg.
'Well, I think you should stop using it. I don't think its good.'
'You don't like losing.' Gellert snarled, 'You just want me to go back to my old wand, and hinder my own abilities so that you can be the best again.'
Hermione opened her mouth but Mordred placed a hand on her arm.
'Priestess, perhaps we should let Gellert enjoy his victory. If this matter still concerns you later, we can address it then.'
The two Gorlois' eyes met and Gellert couldn't shake the feeling that there was some kind of non-verbal communication passing between them. Hermione's brow furrowed deeper and deeper, then Mordred jerked his head sharply and Hermione huffed, stamped her foot, then snapped out that she was going flying with Katana and stormed off up the hill, snatching up Mordred's sword as she went.
The two boys were left in a slightly awkward silence, standing the snow.
'Well, I think you did really well.' Berg said, summoning their cloaks from a mound of snow and offering Gellert's back to him.
'Thank you.' Gellert forced a smile, but the warm glow had been extinguished. 'I think I'm going to have Beastie draw a bath. I'll see you at dinner?'
Then he too left. He missed the troubled look that had appeared on Berg's face when he turned away.