Robin Hood BBC ::His Twin Swords
"Stop laughing!"
"It is not my fault it was funny," she replied, leaning against her wooden sword, "Besides, you are laughing too."
"Yeah, but you started it. You've been laughing for the past half an hour," Allan said, "Now come on, charge already." He held a peculiar looking wooden sword, with wave shaped edges, up ready to defend himself. He saw the girl take a deep breath and closed her eyes to help her concentrate. But when she took a stance and opened her eyes to meet his, she broke into a fit of giggles once more. "Aw, come on!" he complained.
"Apologies," she held up a gloved hand and looked away from him.
"Fine, fine, let it out," Allan sighed shaking his head lightly. He couldn't blame her for laughing. If they switched positions, he would probably be laughing as well. In fact, he was fairly sure that he would never let her live it down if she were in his shoes, testing out the flail and the heavy ball hanging from the chain hit her in the stomach even before she could attack. He could only thank God that the person who made the wasters knew not to put spikes on these things. The ball was heavy enough to have the wind knocked out of him.
He decided the flail was not for him. Whoever created that weapon, in his opinion, was looking to hurt himself not his enemy. In fact, he now knew a list of things he didn't like. He was sure he didn't like the quarterstaff or anything that even resembled a spear or a lance. It was too long for him. he would completely forget about the ends and trip over them as he walked forward or it would drag behind him in his approach. He especially didn't like it when there was a wide blade sitting atop the staff or something that looked like a pitchfork. It placed too much weight on one end making it difficult to find his balance. He didn't like anything resembling a baton or a bludgeon either. It was too heavy and prone to wide swings that left him open for attack, something Evangeline made sure he knew by lightly tapping his open spots with her wooden sword.
It surprised him, as well, when he found that unlike Will, he didn't like the axe. Allan thought it was too flimsy.
So now, he he had taken to the weirder looking things-- like this sword with wavy edges that Evangeline called a flambard. She told him she didn't know a lot of people who wielded such a sword which pleased the outlaw very much. Allan had high hopes picking up the sword thinking that maybe he would add to that list of people she knew. Having a wavy edged sword, a flambard, by his side would no doubt make him special. And that's what Allan wanted right about then-- to feel special.
"Alright, I think I can look at you again," his friend announced across him, grinning like the little nut Allan always thought she was. It wasn't perfect concentration but it wasn't fits of laughter either. Allan shrugged knowing that this is the best he was going to get for now.
"It's about time," He raised his flambard liking how comfortable it felt in his hands.
If he didn't see that she was moving to attack him, he probably never would have known it was coming. The courtier fought in silence, one of many quirks she developed growing up with trackers, hunters and having thieves as friends. So Allan concentrated on her sword instead. It wasn't like she was attacking in full force. The outlaw has had more rigourous training in the woods with Robin and the gang. His little sparring matches with Eva was more methodical on her part. He realized, after the third or fourth weapon he held, that they were doing the same movements in different successions. It was a test to see if he was comfortable with a whole range of motions and speed rather than to see who wins an actual match.
Their swords crossed several times. Allan moved forward placing the girl on defense. He lunged. She parried. He changed his footing and she followed suit. She swung her sword for a quick horizontal swipe. He jumped back, changed his grip and returned one of his own. His flambard caught the girl's waiting sword block with a resounding clap of wood crisply hitting wood.
Allan dropped his sword, shocked at the what he felt shoot up his sword hand. "What in the world was that?" he exclaimed, showing the girl his trembling hand.
Evangline shrugged though he can see that she was wagging her sword hand in discomfort as well. " At least you only had it from that one. I felt it at first strike. They said the design of flambard was to shoot vibrations onto the opponents weapon and hand. I never thought it would be this uncomfortable," she admitted, "No wonder not a lot of people carry that around."
"Well, it ain't no massage," Allan agree placing it back on the rack slightly irked that it wasn't the weapon. "What's next?" he inquired.
"There is these," she offered, giving him not one but two swords that were slightly smaller and slightly thinner than normal swords but not short enough to be a any kind of dagger.
Allan just stared at the wasters with disbelief. "You're joking," he said but the girl just shook her head. "Tell me you're joking."
"Sorry," Eva answered, shrugging, "these really are the next ones since you do not want to touch the pole weapons."
"That's what Carter uses," Allan replied, eying the pair of swords with increased discomfort, "Not being funny, I know you two had a disagreement the other day, but it doesn't mean you have to turn me into his replacement."
The girl smirked. "Do not flatter yourself. We resolved that issue quite nicely, thank you very much," she shot back. yet by the tone in her voice, Allan knew she was still annoyed by the matter. "So--" she shoved the wooden swords into his arms then returned to the center of the ring.
"I'll pretend to be tall, blonde and broody so be careful not to fall for me," he jested before taking his position across her. " Though, honestly, I really don't get what you see in that guy. No offense," he said trying to make sense on how he should move with a sword in each hand.
"None taken," his opponent replied, "I too sometimes forget what I see in him. Like the other day, when he said something so stupid that--" she stopped herself and sighed. "Are you ready yet?" she asked.
"No," Allan stated staring at his swords.
"Good enough," she replied flippantly.
Her lunge took Allan by surprised. He did all he could to block her fast attacks almost instinctively. He tried to land several jabs himself with his free sword. "Hey, look, I'm sorry I brought it up," he tried to apologize as he swiped the the air infront of him with both swords like a scissor, "Honest!" Allan heard no reply though he didn't expect one. So, he just did his best with the exercise hoping that she wasn't angry with him after everything was done. He blocked with one sword and attacked with the other but the courtier was quick to spin away before his sword landed. The outlaw instinctively changed his grip with one sword and feigned a lunge with the other just. The lunge was was parried but he had already set up his next attack with the shifted grip. He did a cross jab. By Allan's estimate, his fists might be hitting air but the blade should be cutting across the girl's neck. The girl jumped away from him avoiding the swipe altogether.
Allan saw she was grinning.
What surprised him more, was the fact that he was grinning too.
"You should act tall, blonde and broody all the time," Evangeline commented.
"Two swords eh?" the outlaw mused still taken aback on how easy it was. "I kind of like it," he decided following the girl back to return the wasters, "Although, not being funny or anything, it will take double the time to sharpen swords now."
"Not if the weapon is well made and you maintain the edge properly," the courtier argued returning her wooden sword on it's holder. "If you take care of them, monsieur, they will take care of you," she added, kneeling down to fix the rack so it would look like it was never touched.
Allan smirked, "Yeah, because you know, as outlaws, we get everything customized for free," he said dryly.
The courtier rose from the ground with her hands behind her, grinning. "I know," she replied in the same dry manner suddenly handing him a long but thin silk bag, "Quite unfair if you think about it."
The outlaw eyed the smiling girl suspiciously as he untied the ribbon. Much to his surprise,there were two sheathed swords inside. He vaguely felt Evangeline take the silk bag and one of the swords away so he could inspect one properly. The scabbard looked simple, black with silver on the tip and where it hits the guard. He could see that the construction was well made yet light and thin. He unsheathed the sword slowly admiring the simplicity of the fine gleaming metal that he saw his smiling reflection upon. "Where did you--" he started to ask, carefully returning the sword on it's sheath and exchanging it with the other the girl held.
"Some grifter you are. It was hidden behind the rack," she smiled sweetly at him. Allan shot her a wry look and she sighed. "From my swordsmith friend who cheated me on a blade," Evangeline answered using his earlier words. "They are made to suit you, Allan, measurements and all. When Gabe saw you fight, he knew that you were not suited for the sword. He said that it seemed like it was slowing you down which it should not, that you were suited for something allowing more mobility, and that fought more defensively than offensively," she shrugged, "And that is exactly what two smaller blades are for. More than anything, the pair makes for an unbelievable shield yet capable of making the quickest attacks," she explained.
"Not being funny," Allan said, slipping both swords back into the silk carrying bag, "but if you already knew all this, why go all this trouble with the sparring and things?"
"Because you were looking for a point, remember?" Evangeline reminded him.
Allan was taken aback for a second, realizing that she was right. Everything didn't just stumble around-- like the sword he was previously using, he just didn't feel like he was in control with his life. He was just following Robin's orders. The outlaw honestly didn't know what he would be doing if the King finally returned and everything was over with. That, he surmised, was the wrong he was feeling staring out the large palace windows earlier that day. Will and Djaq were gone to live their lives filled with purpose. And here he was, left behind, alone and helpless.
However, in the two new customized swords, he had found what he was looking for. He thought he was daft not to have known it earlier. He may squabble, argue, chide and had even betrayed them once but he always came rushing back, not because he thought Robin was right all the time, but because he cared for them. Even Much. He didn't want to see them harmed in any way. He would be there, weapon in hand, to defend each and every one of his friends until he could no longer do so and he would never betray them again.
He would be that 'unbelievable shield capable of the quickest attacks' just like the two blades he now had.
"Lady de Laurent?" a voice suddenly brought him back to the present.
"Monsieur Valois," he heard the girl greet and saw her curtsy respectfully. There was a conversation in French in which the large man and his friends, all in chainmail and clothing showing their respective coats of arms, were shifting their gazes at him every now and then. He in turn, would just give them a cheeky grin and a small wave. But he couldn't help but roll his eyes at the saintly behavior Evangeline was exhibiting. The men chuckled and their leader offered his arm to her which she accepted. The pair headed his way, the man was still chuckling as he walked. "Monsieur Valois, meet one of the Queen's brave English guests, Monsieur Allan A Dale," she said softly though after she silently instructed Allan to bow. "I was just telling le chevalier that we are here because you said you thought a girl should not be without at least the basic knowledge of self defense. Especially after what happened in the ball," she explained smiling up at the knight.
"Yeah, you know," Allan replied, quickly throwing the girl a confused look when the knight wasn't looking, "a move here or there won't hurt now will it, mate?"
"Just do not strain this little one," Monsieur Valois answered in his heavily accented English, "Though she held that sword and feigned to know how to fight, the excitement-- it made her ill. And everytime she is ill, we miss her at court. Sometimes, I wonder why God ever placed such bravery in a delicate flower," he commented. "Well, the kitchen maid has said that dinner should be ready soon. Shall I accompany you, mademoiselle, no?" he offered.
The courtier just curtsied slipping arm into Allan's. "I would not want to bother you with your scrimmage, monsieur. I am sure Monsieur A Dale would be able to keep me out of trouble since he is invited at the table as well," she answered gracefully.
"Well then," Monsieur Valois said bowing as the pair.
Allan felt a nudge on his side and promptly return the bow. When they were out of earshot and outside the door to the Knight's hall, the outlaw heard the courtier start giggling. "Delicate flower? What was that about? Didn't they see you fighting in the ballroom?" he had to ask.
"Oh, everybody saw me raise the sword but no member of the court actually recalls me swinging it because they were rushing out the door to save their own hides," Evangeline replied sounding more like herself, "So they were told that I fainted before all the fighting began. And the excuse everytime I have to go away is that I am either sick or buying trinkets."
"You really are evil," he teased.
"Unfortunately , now more than ever, it is for their own protection," she shrugged.
"And that's the point ain't it?" Allan asked, grinning, telling her in silence that he finally understood. The girl met his gaze and nodded wistfully. "Yep, that is the point," Allan repeated with conviction. And as they walked down the hall, chatting about how much black leather one should really be allowed to wear, Allan was certain of one thing.
He would defend and protect the people he loved or die trying.
And that was his point.