AN: I can see how last chapter felt a little rushed. As I've been writing this fic, you've all seen my writing improve (hopefully!) but I've also realized some of my own major weaknesses. Namely that I absolutely suck at writing travel scenes and characters I haven't thought out well enough. As you've seen, I get flustered when I have long tracts of space to fill, and it doesn't help that I'm not completely sure of travel times. After I posted the chapter it occurred to me that I could just take the wagon from Markarth to Solitude and check the in-game time. As you saw with Elisif, and even earlier chapters, I have a hard time putting words in the mouths of characters I haven't found a voice for yet. But if anyone asks, I'll tell them I was "maintaining narrative focus on the interpersonal relationship between the protagonist and his interest." Sounds a lot better that way, doesn't it? But I've rambled long enough – on with the story!
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The inn's morning crowd was much thinner in number than its night patrons, which thankfully made it easy to get something to eat.
Argis awoke to a thud and clatter as he opened his eyes slowly. How early was it? He mentally panicked, thinking he had somehow overslept, but hadn't drunk a drop last night. His eye first flickered over to the window which showed no light outside and then to the table from which the thump had emerged.
He pushed himself up as he caught sight of the tray heaped with food a resigned looking thane next to it. "What time is it?" asked Argis blearily, and mentally noting how quietly the elf could move when he wanted to.
The elf kicked his cot gently, "Time to rise. If we're going to make me a swordsman, then we probably should get a start on that. We're going to need all the time we can get."
The Nord nodded and rose, staggering over to his own wash basin – it had been a good idea to get two in their room – and splashed his face with the cold water. The icy water helped shock him awake and he padded on bare feet to the table, looking at the meal that they were to share. A large loaf of bread was split cleanly in half with two bowls of stew sitting on the sides. There were two apples resting on each side of the tray. "Sit down and eat. We're going to have a long day today," stated the Altmer while he tore the warm center out of his bread and began to sop up stew broth with it.
Argis nodded and sat down, digging into his own meal with gusto. His mind and body rapidly began to wake up as he wolfed down the meal. The predawn light was tinting the sky pink as the last crunching bites of apple filled the room.
As they readied themselves to leave, Argis nearly smirked at the robed Altmer as they readied to leave. He called out, "You really might want to bring a shirt and breeches. We're going to put you in real armour today. Oh, bring your real dagger with you." A sour face was all he received from the wizard, but he noted that the mage packed a suitable shirt and breeches.
Even a city as large as Solitude is sleepy in the early hours of the morning, and the streets were almost bare of people as the two men wound their way back to the citadel. They arrived at the gates to be greeted by the tired faces and slouching forms of two guards who looked surprised at seeing the two men back so quickly. Argis spoke jovially to them and asked, "Where can we find a training room – preferably a private one. The dragonborn wishes to spar." He winked playfully an added, "Don't worry, I won't let him burn anything down."
Ardanthis remained silent, knowing that the housecarl was better able to speak to the other warriors without seeming arrogant or condescending.
Both of the guards scrambled to straighten up, and the older one gestured sharply to the younger. The younger guard stammered out, "Of-of course! Right this w-way." He immediately darted into the castle and led them through the winding halls to a small gallery with large windows. The windows opened to the west, giving them a brilliant view of the mountains as the sun began to paint its light on them. The room itself was gradually lightening as the day wore on and it would be absolutely blinding when the sun began setting.
Gesturing to the back of the room, the young guard said, "A-all the training supplies you could need are there. If you n-need anything, sirs, do not h-h-hesitate to ask." He quickly scurried out of the room, leaving the two alone with the training equipment.
Argis nodded to his thane and casually, "Why don't you get yourself a training dagger?" as he helped himself to a blunted sword and shield. The swords were so rounded that they little better than paddles, but they allowed for most attacks to be non-lethal.
The mage walked over the rack of training daggers and looked them over quickly before grabbing one at random from the rack and looked curiously to Argis who had stopped searching through the various swords and was looking with amusement at his thane. "What is it?" asked the wizard with a sigh.
The warrior called out, not leaving the weapon racks, "Heft your training dagger and then your glass dagger. They probably won't feel the same. Try to find ones that are similar so you can get the most out of this. If you get used to a lighter or heavier dagger, your real one will throw off your performance." He returned to hefting swords and giving them test swings.
The wizard grumbled under his breath but Argis caught the words "mage" and "dragonborn" and smiled to himself. The wizard tested several daggers and ultimately decided on a different one and experimentally hefted the glass and practice daggers. He nodded to himself, satisfied with his choice and looked to Argis who had finally picked a sword and taken a position opposite the wizard who nervously twisted his dagger in his hand.
The warrior raised his shield and clanked his way slowly towards the wizard from a defensive posture. The Altmer stepped back before a look of resolution crossed his features and he carefully approached the impassive faced Nord with his dagger held low before him. The Nord made a few feints forcing the wizard to dodge and hold a defensive position before the mage snarled in annoyance and swung his dagger at the Nord's extended wrist. His attack was intercepted by the shield, which lashed out and knocked the thrust aside. Flowing behind the shield strike was the practice blade which slammed into the wizard's midsection blasting the air out of his lungs.
Staggering back and clutching at his gut, the dragonborn wheezed angrily and glared at his housecarl.
A look of concern flashed across Argis' face, "I'm sorry, my tha- Ardanthis. I wanted to demonstrate the weakness inherent in using only a dagger against a thinking opponent. You not only lose reach against any other weapon, but you have to combat a shield as well."
Standing up straight the wizard nodded, and said in a voice that was filled with determination and anger, "Then let's find me a sword. I'm not going to take another sword to the gut." He tossed his dagger to the Nord.
The burly man quickly reached out and plucked a sword from the rack, having anticipated the wizard's mercurial shift due to pride. He replaced the dagger in the rack and handed the new sword to the wizard who gave it a few practice swings before nodding to his housecarl.
The blonde warrior began his previous cautious approach and the wizard smirked. Their blades clanged against each other, and when Argis attempted to strike the Altmer's blade with his shield, it was pulled away. Suddenly, a massive burst of light blinded Argis who instinctively jerked his shield up to try to block it. He suddenly realized what was happening and tried to move his shield down, but he was too slow and he grunted as Ard's blade smacked into his stomach.
Coughing heavily he sputtered out, "This exercise is meant to teach you to fight without use of magic!"
Breathing heavily, with a triumphant smile on his face, the wizard replied, "Then fight without your shield. Magic is part of how I fight."
"Then you will die when you run out of fire to throw," the Nord said, his calm demeanour and voice having returned. He continued, "You rely too much on it, though. You need to be able to fight without it so you can have a chance to recover it, if nothing else." He gestured the robes the Altmer wore, "And those aren't going to stop anything from punching through to your vitals. I strongly suggest you find something sterner."
"Fine. Since we're at it, we might as well cover me in hides," sighed the wizard. He appeared aggravated by his housecarl's words but he was still cooperative, though with gritted teeth.
Hiding a relieved smile, the Nord calmly walked over to a set of padded leather armour that was neatly laid out a table and quickly inspected it before handing it to his thane. Sighing at the Nord's armful of leather, the elf quickly pulled off his robe and fussed with his cotton shirt and breeches. Quickly taking the armour, Ardanthis hastily strapped on the armour and Argis quietly sighed after surveying the wizard' attempt to don the leather gear. This was like training a novice warrior, except novice warriors usually want to learn and don't have a wizard's ego.
Speaking calmly he spoke of the value of a solid piece of armour and adjusted the wizard's armour to the point where the straps didn't pinch him and it sat snugly over his vitals. Standing back, the warrior surveyed his work and was satisfied with the end result. "Light armour is not meant to stop a direct sword thrust," began the Nord, "It's better for-"
"Then what good is it?" cut in the wizard sharply.
If the man before him were just a recruit, Argis probably would have smacked him up the backside of his head for his disrespect, but having trained other people for a long time Argis was an experienced tutor with the patience to match. He had taught younger guards while doing caravan work, and even before that he had been tasked with teaching other soldiers while he was a housecarl for Keldin. Admittedly, his thane was testing his patience with the constant bitterness and passive-aggressive learning. Restraining his reflexive anger, Argis calmly replied, "It's better meant for deflecting and cushioning blows and stopping weaker ones - it isn't steel plate. Because of this, you're better off when you're light on your feet so you can move around to maximize the effect of your armour."
Their training continued on through the day, with a short break for a quick meal brought in by a servant. Argis cycled through various forms of weapon training, hoping to find something that might spark the interest of his thane. The dagger, sword, axe, and mace were all treated to equal disdain and the lightest two handed sword was swung once before being discarded.
Argis decided the best way to handle training was to simply stop asking for his thane's input and trust his own experience. He ignored maces and axes for being too heavy and unwieldy for the slimmer elf, and endeavoured to impart the finesse of the blade.
The thud of practice swords against flesh and armour echoed throughout the chamber as the training proceeded, and the vast majority of the hits were made against the elf.
Rich, golden light flooded the chamber as the setting sun poured its last glories in through the large, and long since opened, windows. Rushing forward with a fierce shout, the elf swung his sword toward Argis' hand, trying to disarm the warrior, but his attack was blocked by the ever-present shield. He whipped his blade back, holding it defensively in front of him with both hands, ready for the counter attack. He didn't wait long, as Argis darted forward, swinging his sword out in an arc at the elf's free arm. Stepping forward into the swing, Ardanthis swung his own sword up, smashing it into Argis' hand.
An audible crack could be heard and Argis dropped his sword with a hiss through gritted teeth. He jerked his hand back behind his shield and rapidly back stepped with his shield raised. The Altmer looked down at the Nord's sword with a self-satisfied expression for a moment before a look of horror crossed his face.
He dropped his sword and quickly walked over to his housecarl, a slight limp showing where a telling blow had landed. "Show me your hand," he said with the authoritative voice of a healer.
"No, I'll be fine. I'll get a priest to mend-" grunted the housecarl in response.
"Argis, show me what I did!"
Reluctantly, the pale-with-pain Nord dropped his shield and revealed his already swelling hand. The shattered fingers, which had been clenched around the hilt of the sword, were purple and one was hanging oddly. "By the divines..." muttered the wizard, wincing at what his handiwork had accomplished. He seemed at once fascinated and repulsed by the damage he caused. Gently, he took the ruined sword hand of the Nord, who was breathing heavily but maintaining his composure. "It's so odd. I'm- I'm not used to seeing this kind of damage up close. I've killed men from afar, but seeing it like this is so...so different. So visceral."
Ardanthis' attention was snapped back to the present by a barely-smothered grunt from the warrior who was looking at his ruined hand with horror. His face expressed dread and panic as he looked at his ruined sword hand, wondering how he would be able to earn a living with only one hand.
Chanting quickly, Ardanthis' hands ignited with golden light which soaked into the Nord's hand. The pain immediately faded before the arcane rush of healing energy and Argis only felt a slight twinge as his bones popped back into place and immediately mended. The energy flowed from his hand, up his arm, and diffused throughout his whole body. Closing his eyes and sighing deeply, Argis revelled in the feeling of his forming bruises disappearing and his tired muscles unknotting. The restorative flow tapered off and he opened his eyes, closely examining his hand and testing the fingers. He nodded contentedly, smiling happily at his healed hand.
A relieved smile crossed the features of the wizard before he turned his own healing energies to himself. The golden light swirled around him and he confidently walked on his previously injured leg. "Let's call it for today," the wizard said softly. Argis nodded simply, exhausted with the training and the strain of the breaking and healing of his hand.
The last sunlight was slipping out of the sky as they cleaned up the training room, restoring it to its original state, and walked out of the room. Weaving through the castle, and after getting lost only once, they emerged out into the courtyard and the fresh air.
The wended their way through the evening streets which were slowly emptying of the busy people who populated it during the day. Slipping past a braying street vendor, they entered the Winking Skeever ahead of the evening crowd, but the barroom was already filling up with tired patrons looking to drown the day's sorrows in mead.
Slapping some coins on the bar, the wizard ordered a quick meal for the both of them and went up to their room, Argis in tow.
Crossing the threshold, Ardanthis sat down on the bed and looked up at his housecarl, who was slowly removing his heavy steel armour with exhaustion evident in every movement. "Argis?" called out the Altmer, noticing how the Nord repeatedly checked his hand. The tired man looked to his thane curiously. Ardanthis continued before he could speak, "Thank you, for everything today, and...and I'm sorry for what I did."
Heaving a sigh but giving a tired smile the Nord shrugged and replied, "This is the risk of physical combat and I accept it. I'm very glad that you were able to heal the damage, though!" He muttered softly, "That was a good strike though. Good adaptation to my tactics."
Hesitatingly, the wizard continued, "If... if you are willing, could we resume training tomorrow?"
The mix of vulnerability, hope, and caution in the elf's voice made the blonde look up in mild surprise. His thane was usually so confident and headstrong, that it was surprising to hear his voice without its usual accompaniment of confidence or disdain. Realizing the dragonborn was still looking at him for an answer, the housecarl quickly replied, "Of course. I'm glad you're showing an interest." Finally showing an interest, he mentally added.
The relief in the room was almost palpable after Argis said those words. He had the strange feeling that he had made everything better when he agreed to continue the tutoring. He supposed that the Altmer felt some sort of guilt over his petulance and passive-aggressive cooperation, making Argis' forgiveness all the more important. The Nord mentally sighed as he sat down to check over his armour and was quietly relieved that he hadn't been ordered to continue his role as instructor. It was within a thane's rights to demand all forms of aid from his housecarl, and it was the housecarl's duty to oblige. The Nord quietly wondered what Ard would have done if he had refused. He doubted the man would have ordered it – he probably didn't even know he could – but he was glad he didn't try it.
The elf departed from the room to get their meal and Argis took the opportunity to clean the worst of the sweat and filth off of himself and change into clean clothes.
Returning with the food, Argis left to empty and refill his wash basin, giving the dragonborn the privacy necessary to clean himself. There was a well just outside of the inn, but Argis walked slowly as a courtesy to the other man and ensured that he gave him enough time to get cleaned up as well. Argis quietly entered the room, clean water in hand, and the two sat quietly and ate. The cheerful crackle of the fire filled the room as their mutual exhaustion sapped the energy from even the smallest attempted conversations.
Retiring to bed quickly, they slept well in preparation for the next day.
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Argis was unsurprised by his thane's wake-up call the next early morning and he quietly dressed and ate as they walked quickly to the training room.
The housecarl began to teach his thane about the versatility of dual wielding and specifically focused on form and footwork. Dual wielding made parrying or blocking attacks extremely difficult so being light on your feet and able dodge was a critical skill in this form of attack. Argis nodded in approval as he watched the lithe elf step quickly, even in his practice armour. He eschewed the dagger as having too short of a reach, and settled on a second sword. Being a wizard, Ard was already was adept at managing two spells at once so he quickly latched onto the tactics and techniques associated with using two swords. Usually, coordinating the two weapons so they worked together instead of against each other was the most difficult part of this particular style.
Realistically, the two mentalities weren't that different. It was about ensuring that the opponent never had a real opening for fear of the other weapon, or that the opponent never had a moment without pressure. While his footwork still looked sloppy to the Nord, and the blade work was worse, Argis was glad that the elf would be able to at least hold his own against the average opponent.
Quietly enduring the strikes of the High Elf, the housecarl maintained his trainer's composure through the rest of the day. He mentally sighed and realized that they would need to find a real trainer for swordsmanship. Argis was skilled with one blade and shield, and didn't have a mastery of the balance and motions required for dual wielding. He said as much as they plunked down to eat.
Frowning sharply, the elf replied, "I'm sure I could have no better tutor."
Smiling at the elf's faith, Argis shook his head and added, "You see our blade work as the same. If I know how to work a sword, then I should be able to handle a sword adeptly regardless of the situation right? But these are very different style of fighting, and there's a reason I wear steel plate and you wear leather. Each form is suited to its own style of fighting. I'm supposed to take hits on my shield, and you're supposed to avoid them entirely."
Waving a hand dismissively, Ard added, "I can't have another trainer. I'm supposed to be the impressive and indestructible dragonborn and I don't want to have that image compromised. You'll have to do."
Argis looked over at the wizard and smiled slightly, suspecting it was more a matter of personal pride that overall image but he said nothing.
They rose and commenced sparring again and the clang of practice swords filled the room until dusk. The arrival of night heralded the end of their daylong session, and Argis was happy with the progress made by the wizard. He had, at the very least, a grasp of the basic techniques and motions required to fight with one sword or two. It was a major success for a student who had previously been very resistant.
Ensuring the training room was immaculate as they left, they arrived back at their inn room a short while later. The confines of the inn room were becoming a second sort of home to them and its closeness seemed to help them speak more easily with one another. The heavy doors of Vlindrel Hall seemed to be barricades more than simple doors to Argis' memory, and he was incredibly glad that they were away from the doors and cold stone of Markarth.
Settling down into the small room, the wizard quietly stated, "We should probably spend tomorrow preparing for the march on the fort."
Argis nodded in a very professional manner, but his heart sunk slightly at the prospect of not spending the time with his thane. They hashed out supply listings, times, and even possible enemy tactics over a small chicken pot pie and finally had their respective duties settled. They gradually drifted off to sleep, Ardanthis dropping off first. Argis gradually slid into the realm of dreams while looking at the man who he loved, and who gave him feelings he could no longer deny.
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AN: Thank you for the constructive reviews and compliments so far. I'm actually quite surprised that people on the internet are being this nice, and I'm trying to remember to take your suggestions into account. As always, further suggestions, criticisms, and comments are appreciated. Please, do not be afraid to hurt my feelings, as I'd rather hear it so I can improve my writing.