Cats and dances

Theon POV

I found out today that I am good at dodging sword strikes, especially from young princes and drunken priests. Somehow Thoros of Myr found me again and suggested having some sparring. It would be nice and all if he wasn't drunk again.

"So this is the famous drunken style?" I asked him.

"What that?" He asked me and looked stupefied at me.

"That is you, right now," I told him after bating his sword from me and kicking him to the ground. "Find me when you can stand straight and walk, not swirling around."

In the end, I looked for Jory or another guard to spar with me. They aren't outstanding, but they have skills and experience that I am lacking. So I learned something from them, mainly how to get hit, but that is not the point.

As I was walking around the Tower of the Hand, I found Arya chasing some cat. I stopped and looked at her from a distance. It was entertaining how cats outsmarted her and how she tried so hard to no avail. After Arya fell to her face trying to jump on the cat, I started to laugh out loud.

"Is not funny," Arya confronted me with teary eyes.

"But it is," I remarked. "What are you? A dog? Jumping on cats like that."

"I am not a dog," She proclaimed.

"No, you just a little pup," I replied. "Why are you chasing cats anyway."

"Master Syrio told me to do so," She answered.

"Who's that?" I asked, already knowing.

"My dancing teacher," She replied with lowered head.

"You and dancing? Somehow I don't believe it," I told her, and the idea lit up in my head. "Bring me to your master."

"I don't think I can," She responded.

"And I think you can. Let's go. I want to see what kind of person would teach you dancing," I ordered her, and she lowered her head and led me.

Arya led me in the room where a slight man with a bald head sat. He looked at Arya first and then turned to look at me. I couldn't read his face. It was calm, not showing any emotions, but at the same time, it wasn't emotionless and cold like Lord Stark's.

"Who this?" The man asked Arya.

"I am Theon Greyjoy," I introduced myself. "Is common manners to introduce yourself first before asking for others' names."

"Is it?" He asked. "I am Syrio Forel, the First Sword of Braavos."

"Nice to meet you," I replied and bowed. "I never thought that a man with a title of the First Sword would be a dancing teacher. Unless it is a water dance, I am right?"

"You are," The man answered. "If you have said what you wanted, you can leave."

"Why are you in such a hurry?" I asked and walked to him. "The First Sword of Braavos, what does that title even mean?"

"If you want to know, it means…." Before he could finish, I interrupted.

"No, not really. Titles are just words that people gave special meaning to, just like any other word. What I want to know is how skillful a man with such a title is," I told him, picking up a wooden sword. "Show me watch your title means."

"I like your words," He replied, showing a slight smile on his face. "Very well, maybe you will have good material to teach the boy."

He picked a wooden sword too. Before I could step forward and strike him, I felt pain in my thigh. I stepped back and then stepped forward again and swung my sword. Syrio dodged it gracefully, leaning to the side, and struck my side with a fast stab. It was more painful than I imagined, but a smile formed on my lips.

After a dozen minutes of exchanges with master Syrio, my body was blue and black. It was painful even to move. He has beaten me without me even touching him. But I learned a lot from this exchange. The pain was indeed a great teacher.

"I expected more from your words," Master Syrio told me after the bout.

"And I expected less. It seems we both were surprised," I replied. "Teach me."

"What?" Arya, who was watching from a distance, asked in disbelief.

"You are not suitable for Water dance," Syrio responded to me.

"I know, but it doesn't mean I can't learn anything from it," I replied with a sly smile. "The swiftness, the graceful movements, and ability to see the opponent's mistakes before he could realize them. I want to learn it all."

"Your greed shows no boundaries," Master Syrio replied.

"No, it doesn't. Anyway, I will come tomorrow. I am sure that Lord Stark will pay you for my lessons," I told him and prepared to leave.

"I didn't agree to teach you," He responded.

"It doesn't matter. I still come," I replied. "I will show how arrogant the lords of Westeros are."

With my words, I left the room with aching muscles and bones. It was the first time that I was defeated so thoroughly. I can't miss such an opportunity to learn.

…

Just like I said yesterday, I went to the room where Master Syrio was. Entering the room, without even knocking, I saw Master Syrio sparing with Arya. The bout was a short one, and after a few words to Arya, Master Syrio looked at me.

"You are an arrogant man," He said, seeing me.

"And a greedy one too," I replied with a smile.

"Very well. Do you want to learn? Then you will learn," He told me and opened the window. "Stand on the ledge, on one leg."

"You're are trying to kill me, aren't you?" I asked.

Syrio Forel just looked at me without answering. It was his way of getting rid of me. No sane person would do something like this. Too bad for me, I wasn't that sane, and too bad for Master Syrio, I wasn't a fool either. I left the room and, after a few minutes, came back to the surprise of Syrio.

I took a rope and tied myself to one of the pillars. Then I climbed the window and stood on the ledge of the Tower. Looking down, I gulped and raised my left leg, and spread my arms for better balance.

After many minutes, I don't think I reached an hour, passed and after switching my legs, once one got too tired and started to hurt, Syrio called me back. Hearing his voice almost scared me out of the ledge. But I managed to lean back to the wall. Taking a deep breath, I climbed back to the room.

"It seems I underestimated your arrogance," Master Syrio told me.

"It seems you did," I replied to him. "So, how about a spar?"

"Wery well. Once you catch a dozen cats and bring them to me, I will spar with you," Syrio responded with a smile.

"Is there a dozen cats in the Red Keep?" I asked.

"Who knows," He answered and motioned me to leave.

I left, the first thing I did was do go to the kitchen. After asking around, I found out that indeed there were dozens of cats in the castle. The size of the Red Keep was enormous, and so was the number of rats. So the hunt for cats began.

…

It was evening when I came back to Master Syrio's room and presented him with cages full of cats. Arya, who was still training, looked shocked at me. It took almost all day, but I managed to catch a dozen cats.

Some of them were lazing around and easy to grab. For others, I waited in the kitchens for them to show up. I just put some fish in the cage for the last batch and waited for them to enter it. It was just a simple trap.

"There are your cats," I told Master Syrio. "Now, you can use their blood for your rituals."

I laughed at Arya's horrified face. It took a moment for her to understand it was a joke. Master Syrio didn't reply to my jape and picked up two wooden swords, throwing one at me. I caught it, and before the start of our spar, I released all the cats, who scurred away.

Without any words, I attacked Master Syrio. It was no different from yesterday. He has beaten me to the bone. But I think I lasted a couple of minutes longer this time.

…

"You look terrible," Thoros commented to me.

"I feel worse," I replied and swung my bastard sword at the dummy.

"Isn't your sword too heavy for one arm?" He asked.

"It is," I replied. "So I swing it until it isn't."

"Haha, that the spirit," Thoros laughed. "How about a spar? It will be better than fighting a dummy."

"It isn't if you are drunk," I answered.

"I wasn't drunk," He defended himself. "I was hungover."

"You will die from drinking," I told him.

"There are worse things to die from," He replied with a laugh.

I didn't respond to him and just bared my sword at him. Thoros of Myr was an excellent fighter, different from Master Syrio. Thoros wasn't swift or elegant, but he was strong and experienced. He quickly blocked my strikes and counter-attacked me. If it were a real fight, I would have died many times.

"Well, it is enough for today," He told me when I was too tired to even stand from the ground.

"Why are you even finding me?" I asked with interest.

"The Lord of Light is guiding me to you," He answered.

"In other words, you don't have anything better do to but to torment me," I responded, and he just laughed. "Anyway, give me wine. I don't think I will be able to sleep tonight otherwise."

"Haha, you should be more respectful and ask nicely," He remarked.

"I should be dead," I muttered. "Can you give me some wine, please?"

Thoros just laughed and threw a bottle from somewhere to me. I took it and opened it. From the smell, I could tell it was a strong type of wine if it even could be called that by this point.