"Hey." Mathayus' face lit up in a grin when he saw her. He shouldered his sword. "I'm always ready. You look like you feel better than the last time I saw you." She did. She seemed happier, somehow, and that made Mathayus happy too, for reasons he didn't feel like exploring. "Let's go."
Brienne led the way out to the area near the forest where they'd sparred the last time, one hand resting lightly on Oathkeeper's hilt. Not one for conversation for the most part, she found herself genuinely curious about her sparring partner, but she was never good at knowing what questions to ask and when.
Glancing over at his sword, she inquired, "Does your blade have a name?" Her fingers tightened briefly on Oathkeeper's hilt. "Mine is called Oathkeeper." The corners of her mouth lifted in a sardonic smile. Thus far, she wasn't doing so well at the keeping of oaths. Although Jaime was popcorned, and the Stark girls were safe, so perhaps she needn't worry.
Mathayus lifted the sword from his shoulder briefly and looked at it. "Nope." To him a sword was just a tool; sure, some worked better than others, and he knew plenty of people who'd named their weapons. He just wasn't the type. You get too attached to a tool, you soon find you can't use anything else. And an assassin needed to be able to improvise.
He swung his blade experimentally and then took his ready stance. "Did you name it yourself or was it named when you got it?"
Brienne took her own ready stance. "This--" she indicated the blade, "Is Valyrian steel. Where I come from, to be given a sword forged of valyrian steel is a great honor, and all such swords are named." That sardonic smile was back. "Oathkeeper was given me by Jaime Lannister to aid me on my quest for the whereabouts of the Stark girls--one of whom you met the last time we did this." Realizing that she'd said more than she'd intended she concluded, "My journey... did not end well." And then she made the first thrust, embarrassed by her sudden onset of talkativeness.
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Glancing over at his sword, she inquired, "Does your blade have a name?" Her fingers tightened briefly on Oathkeeper's hilt. "Mine is called Oathkeeper." The corners of her mouth lifted in a sardonic smile. Thus far, she wasn't doing so well at the keeping of oaths. Although Jaime was popcorned, and the Stark girls were safe, so perhaps she needn't worry.
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He swung his blade experimentally and then took his ready stance. "Did you name it yourself or was it named when you got it?"
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