[Flashback] The Tower Room (Ha'na)

[Ifran]

"I said to the best of your abilities," he reminded her gently, the implication being that he was, perhaps, indifferent to her level of skill. Or perhaps that would be reading too much into what he said. Eypharians were silver-tongued in general, and he was slipperier than most. "Very well," he said. "I will teach you as I was taught. When we are dealing with blades, then, there is no higher god in your pantheon than me." This was a statement, of course, rather than a question. He didn't even wait to hear if she would agree to this. Of course, she would. Though he had no military service to his record, the discipline of a sword-dancer was at least as exigent as that of any soldier, even if their goals were somewhat different, and Ifran's teachers had made sure that he could actually defend himself with blades in hand, as that might be a very real eventuality for someone of his birth and blood. He took up one of his bronze khopeshes and held it out to her, ready to correct her grasp and her grip from the moment she took it up. There was no point in allowing bad habits to form.

[Hana]

She stayed silent in her protest of her abilities lacking. She would show him, he would decide she had nothing in that manner to offer, and then she would spend the next season scrambling to make sure he remained interested in her. Ha’na had figured out the way this entire situation worked rather quickly. Now she stood there, listening to him with her typical dedication. There was never a doubt that she was paying attention when she listened. Her eyes stayed on him intently when they were alone, or if others were around she managed to offer tiny nods that gave away that she was still there with him. Her hand slipped out to take the weapon being offered to her, fingers wrapping around it carefully. She remained where she was though, knowing already that she wasn’t holding it correctly. She’d watched him enough to figure that much out. “My Lord,” she said softly, waiting for him to correct what he wanted to. “Aren’t you the highest god in my pantheon whenever you are in the room with me?”

[Ifran]

"So you say," he said, though sensual matters took a secondary station in his mind now that he was teaching her something. If she was going to claim that Ifran of the North Winds had taught her how to hold a khopesh, she was going to hold it correctly or not at all. His hands moved over hers, making minute corrections. "There is a balance you must find between tension and relaxation. With no tension, the hilt will slide out of your hands, but with too much tension, it will not dance and your body will absorb too much from each impact with another blade. He had heard several analogies between the way one held a sword and the way one held a cock, but he did not want her mind muddled with such thoughts until she had somewhat mastered the basics. When two sword-dancers knew what they were doing, a sparring match could be a seduction. Of course, anything done properly could be according to most Eypharians.

[Colombina]

The XP Wand Is Waved! I don't know why or how but Ifran training threads get me all hot and bothered. I think Ifran could clean the garbage disposal with a smexy sneer. Ifran's Loot 2 XP Khopesh 1 XP Dance 1 XP Teaching Lore of Herbal Drink Recipe Lore of a Servant's Role Colombina is pleased.