The sound of Valyrian-Steel striking wood sounded out through the clearing. Sweat beaded on Tom's forehead as he swung Blackfyre over and over, striking the dead tree, the sharp edge of the blade biting deep into the wood with every strike.

After Tom had finished planning with Rolf and Bannon, he'd felt restless. Planning was important but a strong part of him had no stomach for it. He wanted to act, not wait, even if waiting was the wiser course of action. It was then that he'd taken a single look at his sword and decided that if he had to wait for the ship to be repaired, then at least he'd put the time to some use. After all, he needed to learn how the hell to use the damned thing, and this was as good time as any to start.

The clearing was a good thirty yards from the village and about fifty feet across. The sun was high and a few clouds drifted lazily across the sky. The hangover from the night before had already begun to fade on its own, and his continued exercise gave him something to work out his frustrations upon.

He'd put the sword down for a moment to take a breath, and was about to pick it back up when he was interrupted by a female voice. "I had a feeling you'd be here."

Turning to the direction of the voice, he saw Visenya standing at the edge of the clearing watching him with an bemused look on her face.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he nodded to her, "Afternoon m'lady, what brings you here?"

She nodded back in greetings and then pointed to the sword, "I have been watching you... 'practice'."

"Really? And what is your opinion of my abilities?" Tom asked with a slight smile on his face.

"Your father needs to track down whoever it was who trained you and demand satisfaction for his outright sabotage of your education." She answered without pause.

Tom blinked at this for a moment, feeling slightly indignant for a moment at her implied insult. But after giving it a moment's thought he couldn't help but agree with her observation. But then he'd never had to learn how to fight with a blade.

"Well, if you think that you could do it better. Why don't you teach me how to use the damned thing properly?" Tom asked ruefully.

Visenya looked at him for a moment. "Alright then," She smirked and approached the man, "The first thing you must know is the stance and how to hold it. Now show me what stance you have and how you hold it."

Tom nodded and got into what he hoped was a good stance and took the sword in a firm two-handed grip.

She took one look at the stance and then sighed deeply. "Please tell me you jest."

Tom blinked in confusion. "Huh?"

Visenya sighed deeply and palmed her face, rubbing her head slightly at the temples with the thumb and index finger of her hand. "Where to start..." She sighed again and shook her head before stepping forward towards him. "Alright then. First lesson is to teach you how not to stand like a drunken woodsman."

"Hey!" Tom exclaimed. "I..."

"Silence," she snapped. "I'm working."

Reaching down to the ground, she picked up a thick fallen twig and walked towards Tom. Her eyes looked him over for any and all faults which she corrected with a swift strike from her switch.

Crack!

"Widen those legs."

Crack!

"Not that wide, fool!"

Crack!

"Suck in that gut!"

Crack!"

"Chest forward!"

After a few minutes of torture, she stepped back, pleased with Tom's improved form. "Now that seems a bit more correct... Now remember, how you hold the blade, and the form of your stance are the most important basics in using the sword, all the strength, speed, and agility in the world will not matter a half copper unless you have these basics. To encourage correctness... I will continue to encourage you to be correct."

She stepped forward, matched his stance, holding the stick as if it were a sword, and then shifted her own. "Now you try."

Tom winced, but complied, and copying the stance that she showed. Once again, she 'corrected' any mistakes, but to Tom's great pleasure, this time there were a good deal fewer mistakes. Unfortunately though, with Visenya and her stick, one mistake was still far too many.

Again and again they did this until, just when Tom felt like there was not a single part of his anatomy that wasn't bruised, Visenya finally nodded and said, " Congratulations, you now know how to hold a sword."

The condescending look on her face make Tom grit his teeth for a moment but he let it go as he knew that he would not be able to find a better sword instructor anywhere for who knew how many miles. He also knew that he needed to learn how to use this damn blade if he was going to survive in this new world he had been unceremoniously dumped into. So he simply smiled dumbly and nodded, speaking with real honesty and just as much relief in his voice, "Thank-you for your instructions m'lady."

Her smile was sickly sweet. "Wonderful. Tomorrow we will see how many you can remember. Now let me show you how to swing it"

Tom muttered under his breath, but did not comment other than to say, "As the lady commands."

For the next several hours, with Visenya as instructor, Tom worked with the most basic forms of sword fighting. By the time they were finished, when Visenya felt that he wouldn't accidentally kill himself drawing it from the scabbard, Tom was aching all over, now not only from his teachers merciless correction, but the effort of his repetitious swings left his wrists, hands, and shoulders feeling like they were on fire.

Tom groaned in agony and, in his mind at least, was luckily able to get the sword back into the scabbard still tied around his waist. Even more satisfying was his relief when she threw her stick to the side and started back into town. He spared a moment to stomp on the damned thing before he followed Visenya back to the village to see the progress that have been made so far on fixing the ship.

When he arrived, he was pleased to see that considerable progress had been made on replacing the mast and repairing the sails. While it was still a long way from being finished, he felt that it would only be a few days before they would be ready to set out and free Rhaenys from her captivity by the Ironborn, and himself from her sister's brutal lessons.

As the two of them were walking towards the ship, they were spotted by Mya, Rolf, and Bannon, all of whom waved and approached the two of them. There was slight jockeying for a moment as to see who would be the first to speak to Tom and tell him their progress so far. Mya managed to get there first by employing a vicious elbow to Bannon's gut that left him staggering for a moment.

She then smiled sweetly at Tom, and bowed deeply before saying, "Hello m'lord, I wanted to tell you that me and the other women of the village have been able to fix most of the sails and all we need to do now is to wait for the mast to be finished. How long that will take," and at this point she gave the two men a scathing glare that made her uncle flinch while the Ironborn showed no visible reaction to it, "It is not my place to say."