Elvic unstrapped his armor, letting the heavy ebony metal clank to the floor gracelessly. He rolled his neck and shoulders, grunting as the familiar and now somewhat comforting aches shot up and down his back. The life of a warrior, of a wanderer was a life rarely absent of some pain or another and the decades had not been gentle on his body. He was stubborn as the gnarled trees of the far north, battered and twisted and sharp to the touch…but there was strength in him yet. Strength that refused to be put on a shelf to gather dust like an old man's trophies. No, he had much more living to do.
He dressed in simple, lightweight leathers that clung to his broad body like a second skin. His routine was the same no matter where he went but he took his time with it. His greatsword was a kill weapon, not a sparring one so he left it beside his armor. His off-hand weapon, a simple short sword, felt light and flimsy in his thick fingers. He sheathed it somberly and stood up, running a hand absently through his long hair before turning his back on the borrowed room and striding out to the training yard.
Several of the Companions were standing around, some of them attempting to look casual while others sized him up just as the she-wolf had minutes earlier. Most of them were much younger than him, some of the fresher ones likely young enough to be his children. He observed them with a cool expression, eye flicking back and forth until they found his opponent and what he assumed to be his brother, the resemblance was uncanny. Vilkas, the boy had been called, nodded at him politely but the haughtiness hadn't left his pale eyes. Elvic smirked to himself, suddenly overcome by a sense of nostalgia. He'd looked like that once.
He drew his sword slowly and nodded at Vilkas who drew his own blade.
-
Aela watched them circle one another, Elvic with his slow cat strides and Vilkas in a jerking and alarming stalk that was more wolf than man. Farkas let out a breath beside her that hitched to a raucous growl. At least she wasn't the only one having trouble remembering this was a mere spar. Vilkas struck first, tentatively aiming a jab at the older man's sword arm. Elvic moved just out of reach. Farkas snorted low in his throat.
"Vilkas is smart, but his temper may get the better of him."
Aela said nothing, eyes tracking the two as they continued to circle, neither willing to stand their ground. Vilkas huffed and slashed at Elvic's stubbed face, hoping to draw first blood. Again the older man pulled just out of reach, the tip of Vilkas' blade just missing his strong nose. This went on for several long minutes, the wolf struck, the cat leapt back on agile feet. Vilkas was striking harder and harder with each attempt, the frustration and the beginnings of fatigue making itself evident on his reddened face.
Finally Vilkas snarled and leapt at him, feet leaving the ground as he drove his blade towards the veteran's chest.
"He's got him." Farkas breathed. Elvic's blade shot out, parrying the wolf's blade to send it sliding away from its target just as he brought his forehead forward and into Vilkas' with an audible crack. The wolf snarled and stumbled back, holding his forehead as rage flashed across his face. Elvic's scarred knuckles planted themselves in Vilkas's chin, his sword pommel finding the younger man's stomach in the moment of shock. Aela growled in anticipation, barely able to contain a bark of excitement. Farkas shifted beside her, likely preparing to leap in and save his brother.
Vilkas hit the ground hard, panting and growling as he twisted and got his feet under him. "You've got bite old man." He panted, fumbling for his disarmed blade. Elvic offered him that crooked little smirk and twirled his own sword. "These teeth aren't flat yet boy." The testosterone was nearly audible as Elvic took the initiative. He flipped his grip on the sword so it ran parallel to his forearm, a technique more formerly associated with daggers and knives. He sprung forward, lithe for a man of his size and age, blade moving in diagonal slash that would have split Vilkas' chest without his armor and a swift block on the wolf's part.
The blades caught on each other and the struggle began. Each pushed their opponent, testing strength and endurance, both growling as their locked blades groaned in protest. Aela didn't see how this could end without one of them backing off. Vilkas seemed to be of the same opinion and pushed all the harder, eager to be the winner of this clash. "I can do this all day old man." Elvic's smirk was back again. "But can your blade?" Vilkas readied a retort, but the sound of shattering metal filled all of their ears.
Steelbane was the name he'd earned.
Vilkas' eyes went wide as the blade of his sword fell to pieces before him. "How..." Elvic punched him hard in the mouth and the wolf went down in a heap. Aela was panting, her face flushed hot and the beast only centimeters below the surface. "Damn." Farkas whispered.