Salty Hands (nova)

There she was. One of the few women on board of his ship, already distracting this Ironborn or that. They were really lucky, to be honest. Most of the men on his ship had used the time in King’s Landing to visit certain places, meaning that they were not too desperate for female company. Granted, some of them pretty much craved it all the time. But most of them knew how to behave right now, especially since these women were his guests.

Then again, there were ways to make everything a bit more explicit. After having turned to face her and requiting her apology with a brief nod, he decided to do something about it. While she was carrying a sword, she was not yet any dangerous with it. Hence, when he suddenly surged forward to close what little distance there was between them, she likely would not have been able to resist. Plus, he wasted no time, slinging his left arm around her waist while bending over slightly, just so he could properly kisss her. Not a tame one either. Both because he wanted to reassure himself that it felt as good as it had been the day before, but also to mark her in front of everyone, Dalton would coax her into a long and demanding kiss, unless she protested vehemently.

Not likely, of course. Once finished, he would swiftly let her go again. If she wanted to punch him for that, now was the time – though in front of his crew, he would catch her hand trying that. So, he was prepared for that – and taunted her slightly. “Ah, yes, I accept that apology,” he said, smirking, before indicating a brief bow. “But I hope that you are ready. Because the Ironborn way is to learn things by doing them, my dear.”
Whistling towards one of the men to his side, the captain was soon tossed another one of the training swords. And he wasted no time at all. Briefly, he indicated a proper stance just so she could copy that, before already striking at her sword with considerable, but not excessive force. His goal was to disarm her right away, just because that was how people learned best in his opinion.

He would never kill her, at least not on purpose. Of that much he was already absolutely sure. It did not mean too much though. Even if she betrayed him and tried to use him, he would not kill her, but instead punish her otherwise. Of course, such dark thoughts were not what he followed up on right at that moment. Far from it. Instead, his thoughts were more in line with never killing her because she was too precious to even entertain the thought. He had just given her a smile – and then shown her just how stark the differences between them were.

It was no surprise, of course. Women were generally weaker than men. And highborn ladies, they rarely ever did anything strenuous, anything that would help build muscle. The mere idea that one could simply pick up a sword and be any kind of competition to a man that had grown up on a ship and with the blade was presumptuous.
But that was not the point here. Sure, he wanted to show her that particular folly. But he also could help her become just a little stronger. If he could get her to the point where she could kill a man by surprise, it would be good.

Of course, though, strength was the least important aspect of that. But they were not ready for that one yet, so strength and technique would have to suffice. Sera agreed as well, already picking up her weapon once more. She had quite a bit of tenacity, he had to give her that much. “It seems like you don’t take this serious enough. In a real fight, losing your weapon is the worst thing possible. Usually means you are dead. So let’s recreate that. Every time you lose your weapon from now on, you incur a penalty.”
He shot her a wolfish grin. “Got any idea what that should be?” That would likely either get her to think about it earnestly, or get her embarrassed. He would like both of those – and he would abuse them either way. At the slightest sign of distraction, he would once more strike at her, just like before.

“I’m not training you to fight in some fancy tourney, dear. Not that they would let you,” he announced. It was obvious that she was thinking about something like that when she angrily slashed the air in front of her. It was kind of cute, but it was not going to lead to anything good. As opposed to her idea of punishment. That could only lead to good places, if he had gotten her right. However, before he went after that part, he had to actually teach her some things. Repeating the same thing over and over did not lead to improvement all by itself, after all. Some information was required.

Yet, he was not going to make that part easy on her either. “You can’t beat me in strength. Think about what makes sense in your head. Visualize, move. That’s how you do it. And think about what the point of this lesson is, dear, before you get disarmed too often.” Once more, he prepared a strike. This time though, he made it more apparent, moved slower. It was clearly an invitation for her, so that she could prepare.

However, the same tactic as the last time still applied. “Four or five? That’s how many you can remove, don’t you? If you get hit past that, you have to remove those ones right here.” He left a brief pause, giving her that grin again. Then he continued, more loudly. “In front of everyone~.” And that, of course, was when he struck.

Maybe it was because he was an Ironborn. Maybe it was because he had the most fun with people that could take a hit or two. Whatever the reason, he did not wince as much inwardly as he had expected, when he had accidentally hurt her. Or maybe he was projecting something onto her, something she possibly wasn’t. But then again, the way that she caught herself, that she did not give up, fighting even against her own weakness. That was what he wanted. Seeing her parry the stroke, if haphazardly, made him realize one thing about his own people that had eluded him so far.

Hah. His sisters had realized that way before him. Look at that. But Dalton finally truly understood what a rock wife was, as he pictured this girl becoming better at this, becoming something remotely resembling a warrior. An Ironborn man could use dozens of women to have his fun with, to make children with. But he also needed a wife that truly could be at his side. The thought of possibly having found such a woman served only to spur him on even further. But for the moment, he gave her a brief respite.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he retorted, retreating a few steaps and assuming a position again. It was her chance to do something, but he doubted that she even realized that. It was usually not easy for trainees to do so without express instruction. “Pain is integral. The desire to not be hurt or killed is what drives you in a fight. Don’t listen to those who speak of glory and duty. When they fight, they always try to deflect harm first.” At least that was his steadfast belief. Anyone who spoke of sacrificing himself for others was a liar in his eayes. That was also why he never completely trusted his guards. They’d only fight as long as they saw a chance of winning.

Yet sparring, sparring was different. “But on the other hand, you will get hurt. In a fight, you don’t have the time to lament your ows, even if it is cute. So I will have to train you in that regard, too. You need to be able to take a hit.” And with that warning, he would seek to hit her side, circumventing her block for once, instead of going straight into it. This was not all about strength, after all.

Look at that. Not only did she manage to not fall too hard for the distraction, she even went on the offensive. What a good student she was. The easiest lessons were already incorporated. Hurting her, while regrettable, did serve to awaken her defiance much more than just being disarmed would.
Now, that didn’t mean that she necessarily made the right calls. But, baby steps, baby steps. For the moment, dark eyes tried to make sense of her movements. Having recuperated from the hit, the stag went on the offensive for the first time, trying to repay him in kind. Despite their difference in strength, he humoured her and parried the blow properly.

However, she did seem to expect something like that, going on to a second strike right away. Sadly, she did leave herself wide open at that moment. And yet, the larger Ironborn did not get in another hit right away. Instead, he decided to use the situation to his advantage in another way. Due to her turning, she gave him only a short distance to cross towards and safe passage to her sword arm – so he grabbed it from behind, at the wrist, before she could get her sword to bear. At the same time, he slung the other arm around her body, seeking to trap the other arm.
“That’s one of the most important lessons, lady Baratheon. Your sword is not your only weapon. And I am not talking about hidden blades or the likes. But rather….” He leaned in some, if the situation permitted, so that he could whisper into her ear. “Your body.”

As that would most likely fluster her once more, he would disengage from there, creating some distance once more. “It is called a sword fight, but anyone stronger than you will try to punch you, to kick you, in some cases even bite you. You need to be able to handle such things without standing there stunned. Or you will soon find a sword in your gut.”

“Traumatic, heh? You really know nothing about fighting yet, do you?” A rhetorical question, of course. Lady Baratheon had grown up like any other sheltered young lady. Combat was something she had only seen from afar, if at all. And even then, probably she’d mostly seen tournaments, given the kinds of moves she had tried to pull so far. No one would have used a move like the last she’d tried in a real fight after all. It was meant to entice a crowd when it worked. But when it failed, like it had, it just was plain useless.

But then again, he did not exactly mind the situation it had lead to. Especially not since she was so understanding. Briefly, he did lament his fate. In any other circumstance, he would be able to just go where this was quite obviously going. And yet, he could not. Honour meant little to him, that was true. But in this situation, it quite evidently meant a lot to her – and Ashe, to a lesser extent. That was why he could not do it.
On the other hand though, he was not going to just let her tease him like this without any repercussions. Thus, he pulled her in a little closer, held her a bit tighter in general – to the point where he wanted to make her drop that sword. Just so he could take another point in their little game.

“I am besting it right now,” he replied, his eyes never wavering in their little duel. “I am resisting it. Otherwise, you’d already be bent over the railing and moaning your heart out.” Once more, he referenced something that was not all that unusual for Ironborn. And again, she likely thought him joking. Of course she did. Until the day that she actually saw it, she would be hard-pressed to truly comprehend. Just as it was with combat. It was impossible to truly comprehend such things without any experience at all.

Though, if it was up to him, she would never experience either. Yes, he was probably just as bad as the people that had allowed her to become weak. But what could he do? Not wanting that what one cherished perish was one of the most basic human desires. “Though I do think that I am falling for you. That only means you should watch out though, or you might end up my wife after all.”