Swords and Secrets
It was just a little over a week since the castle had been invaded, things where finally starting to settle down, well as much as they can in French Court. Things were far from perfect but they are safe, and for now that'll just have to do. She could hear the sound of a blade slicing through the air. Still on castle grounds and nowhere near the blood woods she followed the sound into a cluster of trees, whereupon she saw Bash.
They hadn't talked individually since Francis' warning; he still smiled at her across rooms, and greeted her and her lady's whilst running into each other in the halls of the castle. But it wasn't the same; she didn't want to dwell on it too much. Why would she, it doesn't matter that she misses his presence in her life; they can't change anything for now. So she carried on her days with a pit in her stomach where both Bash and Francis had once been.
Deciding to ignore her brain telling her to turn around and pretend she hadn't seen him, she walked straight over to him and reached down to the pile of weapons he seemed to be trying out. Grabbing a sword and moving it in her hand slightly, adjusting to the feel of it in her hands.
He observes her in silence, not exactly sure what to say. They had wordlessly agreed to keep a distance and now her she was in the middle of nowhere with him and a lethal weapon in her hands. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. One part of him enjoyed seeing her with it, playing around and having fun, but the other part cautioned him, reminding him she could hurt herself.
She looks directly at him for the first time since she arrived and simply asks, "Teach me?"
He gapes at her, barely managing to close his mouth and nod silently. He positions himself in a fighting stance and they were off.
During the first blows, Bash concentrated on his defence, letting her muscles settle into the rhythm of swordplay. . Swing. Swing. Swing. The first two missed badly, but the third, a backswing off the one before it, the arcing shot sliced the fabric of his shirt at the midsection. It missed the flesh behind it by perhaps a centimetre. So maybe he underestimated her a little, and although she was remarkably good for a women with no experience she stood no chance against him. He had been wielding a blade since the day he could hold one.
Bash cracked a smile, he made eye contact. For a brief moment, he could see uncertainty in Mary's eyes. She stood very still, gaze directly on him, clutching the sword at her side, her other hand opening and closing in nervous energy. But unlike her he felt light. Like he was years younger, Mary always seemed to make him feel that way. Like nothing else in the world mattered, no dangers, no worries, just them. Even whilst holding a deadly weapon this whole thing felt playful.
He decided it was about time for him to attack; Mary dodged the first and met the second with her sword. The weight of the thing sent her blade back…but not far enough to knock the blade free of her hands. Bash appraises her.
"You are a quick learner, excellent form ... But how's your footwork? If I step here –"
He takes a step around an imaginary circle. Mary steps the other way, maintaining her relationship with Bash. They are now exactly opposite to their initial positions. Bash attacks. The two of them stand in place, trading feints, thrusts and parries with lightning speed, almost impossible to follow. Mary had expected a quick defeat, an easy humiliation, she was not an equal opponent, but Bash took it slow. Attacking enough to push her to her limits but not enough to actually cause damage. Everything became completely silent, the only sound the air that rang with the tintinnabulation of the singing blades and the hoarse rasp of both
their breathes.
Mary seemingly having no trouble matching Bash's blows, confusion etched her face but suddenly lifted as she realises he is only using a defensive position, attacking when necessary but not with force of a proper blow. The fact that he was going easy on her shot a surge of anger and competitiveness through her body and she snapped.
Mary swung hard. Her sword missed, though not close enough to eat fabric. Bash managed another smirk, this time at the spryness of his dodge. She had to admit it was impressive, but the sight only made her more frustrated by his skill.
After several minutes of attempting to get past Bash's defences, she loses her temper; she begins to batter at him as if to pound him into the ground. He laughs genuinely amused by her sudden rage and spouts a couple taunts for minutes before the Queen's attack began to ease in its brutality. They both moved at the same time, all of a sudden their weapons caught each other high in the air, and they stood belly to belly, face to face. There blades forming an X in the air. The snap of a twig under Mary's foot could faintly be heard over the sound of his racing heart, blood pumping fast through his body.
Pushing his blade against hers with little strength she toppled back, foot catching on a branch behind her causing her to trip and fall to the ground with a soft cry. Bash automatically ran to her side and extended his hand whilst apologizing. She might have accepted it had he not worn that cheeky grin on his face that he so often had whilst in her presence. "You mock my pain." She managed to grumble out as she regained her footing and looked him in the eyes.
"Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says different is trying to sell something." He replied in a calm and honest voice, he winced looking down and seeing the dirt covering her beautiful white clothing. He always felt hint of admiration in the fact that she was so unlike most royals, she enjoys trudging through mud and getting dirty. It was one of the many quality's he adored about her.
She picked up her sword and readied herself to continue, surprising Bash, having thought that she would be done with sword fighting for the day...
The sun was setting and people would begin looking for her, Francis. He would not be pleased to find them together and definitely not engaging in swordplay. So he decided to make it quick, beat he in one fair swoop. He lunges towards her with a strength he hadn't shown before, she tried to keep up but he was fast and experienced. The next one was strong almost brutal. He was still being very cautious not to hurt her, but giving her a little more than she could handle. The force of this blade so strong her grip loosened only fractionally but enough for him to take advantage and with another swing the hilt of her blade was wrenched from her hands. She turned to try and reach her sword but it was pointless.
She ended up backed against a tree, turning to her right she moves to get away but his sword buries itself into the tree, just beside her side, barely missing Mary. She registers it, then pulls on it to try and get it to budge, but it won't move – He swiftly reaches for her sword and places it in the left side of the tree, effectively caging her body, both of the swords in her way, keeping her trapped to the tree. She mouths a curse, but when she turns back to face Bash directly in front of her, he is grinning ear to ear. "Surrender." He murmurs.
"You mean you wish to surrender to me? Very well, I accept." She says with a slightly flirtatious grin. He doesn't respond but doesn't seem to be planning on moving anytime soon, so she asks.
"What do I do now?" She is out of breath, but still managing to find some fight left in her to struggle against his body and the swords keeping her pressed in this intimated position. He could feel her, the heat seeping from her body as she tried to use her legs to manoeuvre out of the cage like position she was currently in.
"Same thing you've always done, be creative." The way his mouth caressed the word creative making it sound so much more than just a innocent word. She could feel a subtle blush creeping up her face, hoping he hadn't noticed the effect he had on her.
"Hard to be creative when you're opponent is uncommonly creative as well!"
"Well I suppose that's the trick, always be smarter than your opponent, which means you have to know who you are up against!" He told her simply.
"You are good at this!" She finally stops struggling, trying to think of an efficient way to get out and coming up with nothing.
"Thank you; I've worked hard to become so." His voice was deceptively calm, but he was blushing ever so slightly at the Queens compliments. It wasn't the first time his swordsmanship skills had been commended but it came from Mary, someone he cared about deeply. He wanted her approval, needed it.
She continued, absorbing what he had just said "I admit, you are better than I am." But it was at that moment a thought came to her. An idea. Bash's voice rang in her head you have to know who you are up against. Quite literally she snorted to herself in amusement, had it been anyone else pressed up against her body, pinning her she might of been concerned. But she knew that wasn't what Bash had intended when he had done it. It was merely about subduing her without harm.
Using his own body. She couldn't say she quite disagreed with the tactic. Luckily they were far enough into the gardens nobody was witnessing it. She didn't even want to imagine what Francis would say. A the sound of his name in her head a slight twinge of guilt shot through her, she was going against his wishes... She didn't get any further into that though because of the sound of Bash's voice breaking her musings.
"Then why are you smiling?"
"Because I know something you don't." Mary stated coyly.
"And what is that?"
Dropping her voice several notches she whispers seductively one word next to his cheek, "Secret." He lets out a breathy laugh, releasing the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding anticipating her words.
"So Mary, what now?" He questions.
Whispering she replies "Well, I think I know my opponent... I think I know his weakness."
"Really?" He asks, a mixture of curiosity and genuine confusion lacing his face.
"I hope so..." Her voice taking on a low and shy quality he didn't hear from her often. He was taken by surprised when her right palm reached out and flattened against his cheek, the touch so gentle he almost couldn't feel her soft fingertips caressing his face slowly. Sending tingles down his spine, his heart beating unsurprisingly faster than it had been moments before whilst sword fighting.
Her head tilts slightly towards him, resting forehead to forehead, noses touching, and breath mingling. Seconds away from capturing her lips with his own, the same lips he had kissed a mere few weeks ago. The same kiss that has haunted his dreams, locking itself in his head, a memory he revisits daily. The grip on the swords loosened, not a whole lot but enough for Mary to take advanced of his vulnerable position. Her hand slipped over the hand gripping his sword, yanking it from his grasp and with the movement he released the other sword just as she captured it in her right hand.
Twisting them with the momentum and taking him of guard, he stood pinned to the tree, a sword pressed to his neck, lightly. It was enough not to be a danger but a warning of who is winning.
"Looks like I was right." She smirks, but it doesn't hold the same power the previous one had. She looked like she was genuinely surprised it had worked, almost like she hadn't known how much power his feeling for her held. It shouldn't have surprised her after what had happened with the pagans, but without the fear of death looming on the horizon it was so much more... real.