Salazar Slytherin (future_founder) wrote in lockewood, @ 2011-06-15 23:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | helga hufflepuff, salazar slytherin |
Who: Helga and Salazar
When: Wednesday night
Where: Dreamland.
What: Salazar teaches Helga how to wield a sword.
Status/Rating: Incomplete, low
Salazar did not question how he found himself in a field with a grand castle looming in the distance. Dreams came with an innate sense of purpose, and he knew why he was there. That didn’t mean he was pleased with the reason.
Holding his sword in front of his chest, Salazar stood a few paces away from the young woman. He also knew who she was, though she was significantly older than he knew her to be. Helga was not a little girl, but a young lass.
“It is not my custom to train women in sword fighting– let alone duel them,” Salazar muttered, half-conversational, half in warning. “Shall I hold a hand behind my back for you?” he offered with a hint of a smirk, knowing it would boil her blood in preparation for a somewhat fair spar.
Helga held the sword out in front of her, looking down its length all the way to the tip. It wasn’t quite as heavy as she might have imagined, but she didn’t notice that her hand was larger than normal, or the ground further than she was accustomed to. The sword looked sharp, and the man standing across from her looked soft; a bad combination. Splitting him in half would be a bad way to start off the lesson, and even more of a pity because he really was quite handsome. She had been about to suggest they start off the lesson with sticks instead. But his ridiculous offer had Helga narrowing her eyes dangerously, her mouth opening in a shocked, mildly insulted but playful ‘o’.
“That will not be necessary, sir Salazar. Instruct, and you will see how much of a quick study I can be.”
“Very well,” Salazar complied, keeping both hands wrapped around the hilt of his sword. There was, on both of their persons, a distinct lack of armor or protection. If he cared, his expression did not reveal it. “I know the first lesson I shall teach you,” he said, a hint of amusement glinting in his dark gaze.
And, with no further words, he swiftly charged forward, swooping down on her with his blade held in the same position. It was both an offensive and defensive hold. But when he was within range, he raised his sword and brought it down on Helga. Salazar was holding nothing back from his new pupil.
It looked for all the world as though the sword rushing towards her were moving in slow motion. But for all that, her feet were glued to the ground. She couldn’t move! She was going to die! Helga closed her eyes, opened her mouth to scream, and held up her arm, deflecting the blow with the circular shield that hadn’t been there a moment ago. Forgetting to be surprised by its presence, Helga screamed belatedly. “Whaaaaat? That you are going to kill me before you even begin teaching me?”
The sword clanged against the shield. Salazar continued to push against the blade against the iron, moving close enough to grunt, “Accept help when it’s given, even when your pride advises you in the contrary. Heed these words especially when you are learning.”
After imparting that particular lesson, Salazar withdrew and stalked back to a safe distance without turning his back on her. “And don’t scream again,” he added, turning the sword expertly in his hand.
Lifting his arm, he beckoned her forth. “Now it’s your turn to be the attacker.”
Helga frowned, looking across the distance at her friend, confused. “But I do not want to attack you.”
“I am teaching you how to sword fight, Helga,” Salazar reminded her with a note of exasperation in his voice. “You must learn to both defend yourself and attack your enemy. Your foe will not stop seeking to end your life simply because you do not desire to fight. Now come. Muster your strength and charge!”
“Yes, you are teaching me how to sword fight,” she agreed. “But not so that I may attack someone. Only so that I may defend myself and those who-- cannot defend themselves.” Helga frowned a moment, and nodded. He was right. “Yes.”
The shield had once again disappeared, and she held the sword double handed, running toward her friend, and swiped the sword sideways, like one attempting to cut down a tree.
Salazar did not need a shield. Taking a side-step, he blocked using his sword, thrusting with just enough force to throw off her blade. He did not make to strike back, though he could have. Their proximity was close enough, but he aim was not to wound her.
“Your stroke took too long,” Salazar critiqued, stepping back a pace. “Never make a first strike sideways. Too slow, and leaves your body too vulnerable. I could have struck here,” he pointed with his blade to her leg, “and here,” he shifted the point to her lower torso.