Her new clothes, along with the scabbard Jon had made her, made climbing up the tree a lot easier, although the fact she'd carefully chosen this tree also had something to do with that
( Read more... )
A man, and a wolf. That should narrow down the possibilities somewhat. For once it is Robb who appears before Grey Wind, so lost in thought that he doesn't notice, at first, Arya and Needle balancing in the tree. His sword hangs at his belt, and Grey Wind's ears are perked forward, nose low to the ground.
He isn't so easily distracted, though, and when he scents Arya he dashes for the base of her tree, whining. "Yes, all right," Robb says, and looks up at her. "Arya."
She lowered Needle to rest on the branch, and looked down at Robb, swaying slightly. It was a little odd; it wasn't often she saw Robb from above. Usually she had to look up at him.
A change of perspective is seldom a bad thing. Robb tilts his head, at the angle Grey Wind normally does when he is intent on something, though he's not likely to recognise the similarity. "Don't let me stop you. Do you fight people often in trees?"
She glared at him. A cheerful sort of glare. "Not often, but you never know when you might have to." She sheathed Needle, then bent double and lifted her feet into the air, balancing on her hands. "It's good for my balance," she said, toes pointing at the sky.
Of course not. She wouldn't. And Robb has not, in his memory, ever fought anyone from a tree. Still. "Impressive," he concedes, still watching her intently. Hers is a different sort of swordplay than his; he saw it on the beach before with Jon. What was it she'd called it? Water dancing.
She changed her grip on the tree and swung down so that she was hanging from the branch for a moment, before letting go and landing lightly next to Robb. "I don't know what good walking on my hands would be in a swordfight, but Syrio made me learn anyway. But he was the best, so it must be of help somehow."
Robb has no doubt that if their father hired Arya a sword teacher, that he was indeed the best. Ned Stark did not do things by halves. And he had said himself, I wish to see you with one of your brothers soon. Well. Water dancing indeed.
"I admit I've never fought anyone standing on my hands in a tree," Robb admits, "but I'm sure there's a use for it." He grins at her suddenly, drawing his sword and holding it up to her in salute. "Would you like to dance?"
Even though she was getting used to what she thought of sometimes as the new, island Robb, she was still surprised at the question and very nearly gaped at him before she took her face under control.
"I'd love to," she said a moment later, grinning. "Just let me get my shoes on." She dashed over and began working at the knots.
There are many reasons for Robb to act differently on the island than in Westeros, but unless one is particularly fascinated by psychology, they are not really all that interesting. He swings his sword experimentally, watching Arya put on her shoes. All those knots really don't look practical.
The time the knots took was starting to reconsider the bows Susan had used. They had come undone quite fast. But she still didn't like the thought that they could come undone on their own, especially while she was fighting, so she redid the knots once she had the shoes on.
She stood up, balancing on her toes for a moment. She drew Needle and settled into a water dancer's stance, saluting Robb with the blade.
Robb will stick with his boots, when he's not going barefoot, until they fall past repair. He raises his sword to his forehead, the way of duelers in tournaments, and drops it into position. Very well, little sister, let's see what you've learned.
She stayed completely still for a moment - calm as still water - just watching him, taking in his stance, how he held his sword. Where his gaze fell. Look with your eyes.
She knew from fighting Jon that speed would be her best - and possibly only advantage - Robb has height and strength and experience on her.
So naturally she attacked first, launching herself forward - quick as a snake - just short of committing herself to a fleche, Needle darting out to draw a parry before flickering aside, around where his blade would be, should be. Fierce as a wolverine.
She's fast. It's not so much a real thought, as something that Robb's brain observes and calculates without conscious concentration. She's smaller, but he's already seen her with Jon, and it's given him some idea of how she moves.
His eyes are on her face, the blade of her sword moving in his peripheral vision, and when Needle changes course his sword is there to meet her, their edges clanging.
He was faster than she'd expected; she'd expected him to be slower than Jon - since his blade is not Valyrian steel - and he was but not by much, and his sword hit hers before she could twist around it, knocking Needle aside.
She dodged back and sideways, angling for his left, trying to force him to fight across his body; hopefully he wasn't used to engaging an opponent who fought with their left hand.
He's not, but not completly useless either, and maybe it'll come in useful the next time he runs into Jaime Lannister.
Robb turns away from her sword, dodging, and only barely escapes the edge of the flashing blade--but he's not taking the bait, and swings low and to the right, trying to draw her back to his fight.
She slid aside - flow like water - not trying to trap or engage his blade; he'd overpower her easily. She couldn't help but drift back to a more central line - it would help Robb, a little, but it did give her more of a target - She sent a series of feints low, Needle flashing in and out, pulling each blow as soon as the parry began and attacking anew along another line.
He isn't so easily distracted, though, and when he scents Arya he dashes for the base of her tree, whining. "Yes, all right," Robb says, and looks up at her. "Arya."
Reply
"Hello, Robb," she said, "Hello, Grey Wind."
Reply
Reply
Showing off? Arya? Never.
Reply
Reply
Reply
"I admit I've never fought anyone standing on my hands in a tree," Robb admits, "but I'm sure there's a use for it." He grins at her suddenly, drawing his sword and holding it up to her in salute. "Would you like to dance?"
Reply
"I'd love to," she said a moment later, grinning. "Just let me get my shoes on." She dashed over and began working at the knots.
Reply
Reply
She stood up, balancing on her toes for a moment. She drew Needle and settled into a water dancer's stance, saluting Robb with the blade.
Reply
Reply
She knew from fighting Jon that speed would be her best - and possibly only advantage - Robb has height and strength and experience on her.
So naturally she attacked first, launching herself forward - quick as a snake - just short of committing herself to a fleche, Needle darting out to draw a parry before flickering aside, around where his blade would be, should be. Fierce as a wolverine.
Reply
His eyes are on her face, the blade of her sword moving in his peripheral vision, and when Needle changes course his sword is there to meet her, their edges clanging.
Reply
She dodged back and sideways, angling for his left, trying to force him to fight across his body; hopefully he wasn't used to engaging an opponent who fought with their left hand.
Reply
Robb turns away from her sword, dodging, and only barely escapes the edge of the flashing blade--but he's not taking the bait, and swings low and to the right, trying to draw her back to his fight.
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment