"Like it?" Loras asked when he caught Obi eyeing his sword more than once.
They were warmed up enough. At least, Loras' heart was pumping and giving juice to his joints. He grabbed a bottle of cold water from one of the shelves where there were a total of four bottles as was fitting for a good workout. As he squeezed water into his mouth (some dribbled onto his chin and neck), he moved to where the sword was.
It was no light ninja sword. It looked far too heavy for the likes of Loras to lift, and yet he did it with ease, giving it a flashy twirl. "You were asking me if I'd learned anything in my dreams," he said. "I used to use this as just decoration." He'd never understood his fondness for swords, but he was starting to now.
No. No, that was stupid. It was only a dream, it hadn't actually happened. It was just easy to learn from dreams, he guessed. Of course, he knew all of this thinking was bull shit, just like he knew that Jaime Lannister was not a common enough name for it to be a coincidence.