Private Tales Into the Fighting Pits

[Isla]

(Sorry the title sucks, I know. Too tired to think of a new one.)

Isla stood in the empty courtyard. It was early morning, before the sun warmed the Keep. The air was cool and crisp, a light breeze flicking the braid at her back. Her fingers nervously fiddled with the soft leather armor she’d been gifted by Lynus half a week ago to prepare for her training with Arryn. She shifted from one foot to the other, glancing around.

Arryn was late…

Maybe she was early…

Maybe she should have been the one to communicate with Arryn, not Lynus. Her nerves were already a jumbled mess, only getting worse with every passing moment that he was not there.

She waited. Thirty minutes. Maybe longer. She considered leaving, but something stopped her. A part of her wanted this, needed it. Especially hearing the fear in Lynus’ voice when he spoke of Bexley Pirian. If she could protect herself, maybe he wouldn’t treat her like she was so small and helpless- especially after…She never did tell him what Nathaniel said to her, the vague threat he made when they had run into one another in town. His face, his words…she pressed a hand to her stomach to quell the nervous churning.

Breathe. She told herself. She wouldn’t see him again.

Still, his concerns were valid, weighing heavily on her while she waited for Arryn to agree to teach her. The silent worry was infinitely more chilling. The way he held her and watched over her while she slept, like he was afraid of something. Like he could hear the words unsaid- the details she had conveniently left out to prevent his worry.

Isla shifted again, trying to warm up while she waited. Trying to dispel the feeling of unease that gnawed at her. The courtyard was so exposed. And she was all alone.

Bexley was a problem in itself. She hadn’t even met the girl yet, but the whispers had made their way to her chambers. Sarah hated her. Which said a lot. Sarah was nearly incapable of hating anyone or anything. She warned Isla, almost daily, of the cunning girl. She played the too-sweet role well. But there was something deeper, darker, that made even Sarah wary around her. Her favorite maid seemed more ecstatic about her training than Isla, or even Lynus.

Movement caught her eye and she looked, releasing the breath she had been holding for far too long.

“Morning, Arryn.” The wariness in her eyes betrayed the friendly smile she forced.

Arryn Cross

 

[Arryn Cross]

Arryn strode into the courtyard, his brows furrowed in annoyance, with Brett trailing behind him. The boy looked rather worse for wear, his cheek sporting a fresh lump.

"Apologies," Arryn muttered, his voice edged with frustration. "Brett picked a fight with one of the stable hands, again." He shot a sharp glare over his shoulder.

Brett, seemingly ready to argue, hesitated under Arryn's gaze and lowered his eyes instead. "Sorry, Miss Isla," he mumbled sheepishly.

With a nod, Arryn sent the boy off to sit on a nearby bench, where Brett sulked in silence, nursing both his bruised ego and face.

Turning back to Isla, Arryn cleared his throat and gave a small, encouraging nod. "Don't look so tense," he said, a light smirk tugging at his lips. "We're just getting started."

"So.. You want to learn how to punch someone in the throat, apparently." he grinned.

 

[Isla]

"Oh it is no problem. Good morn- oh my goodness, Brett!" Isla scowled at Arryn as he glared at the young boy. "You'd better hope it was one of the stable hands to gave him that welt, or its you that is getting punched in the throat." She watched Brett shuffle over to the bench to watch them.

She hoped that Arryn knew she was serious. She had come to like the lad very much, like one of the little brother's she wished she had been fortunate enough to see grow.

"I do not look tense at all, thank you very much." She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for him to begin his lessons. "I am sure Lynus told you all about Nathaniel," She averted her gaze when she spoke of the bastard. If he'd mentioned the throat punching, Lynus clearly had shared too much of her worries with his brother. "But it seems Bexley might be the bigger problem. Lynus seems to feel that I am unsafe while she is here. I know its only another week, but he- we would both feel a little more at ease if I wasn't so useless."

She smiled, though her self-deprecation was clearly genuine and not an attempt at humor.

"So teach me so that I may return to roaming the halls without a shadow making sure I am not killed by some lovestruck Dreadlord." She smiled sweetly, waiting for him to begin the lesson.

 

[Arryn Cross]

Arryn’s brows shot up, aghast at the very idea that Isla thought he had been the one to bruise Brett. "What?" he managed, his voice filled with disbelief. By all accounts, Brett was, by all accounts, his adopted son, and calling him a ‘squire’ was just to give the kid some structure and responsibility. Arryn had been beaten enough growing up to never lay a hand on Brett, no matter how unruly he could be.

Before he could explain, Brett jumped in with an indignant huff. "It were my fault, Miss Isla! Big Baz was bein' a piss stain to my friend Ron, so I told him he smelled like horse shite! But he's built like a brick shithouse and walloped me good." The boy touched the swelling on his cheek. "It weren’t Arryn, Miss Isla. He'd never!"

Arryn's eyes widened as the stream of expletives flew out of Brett’s mouth. If the boy hadn’t been defending him, he’d have managed to look more annoyed than he felt. Instead, he dragged his hand down his face, trying and failing to stifle a laugh.

"Er! Shite. Sorry, Miss Isla," Brett stammered, his face flushing with embarrassment. "Got me riled up is all." He gave an awkward, sheepish smile, clearing his throat.

Arryn shook his head, still chuckling. "No need to be throwing any punches at me, then. Seems like the lad’s taking care of that for me." He shot Brett a look before turning back to Isla. “I might know my way around a fight, but I’m no brute," he said gently, rolling his shoulders to loosen them.

His expression turned more serious at the mention of Nathaniel. "Yeah, I heard about your run-in with what's-his-name." His frown deepened, and he sighed. "And I get it—Lynus’ anxiety over Lady Pirian. But it’d be plain stupid of her to try anything. Not if she wishes to win the favour she’s so desperate for." He stretched his arms above his head, then across his chest, nodding at Isla to do the same.

"Safe or not, though, it never hurts to know how to protect yourself." Arryn crossed the distance between them, resting his hands briefly on her shoulders, then her upper arms, testing the tension in her muscles.

"Not much muscle to you, is there..." he murmured before stepping back. "Alright, show me your stance."

He tapped her feet apart with his own, gently nudging her into position. "One foot in front… Arms up… Hands in front of your face—but not too high. You won’t see your opponent that way. And don’t tuck your thumb inside your fist—you’ll break it. Elbows sharp… Keep your center of gravity low, so you can shift your weight easily."

He took a stance beside her, mirroring the position. "Better," he nodded in approval. "How’s that feel?"

 

[Isla]

Every word that came from the child's mouth had Isla's eyes going wider with amusement. She was relieved that Arryn had not harmed Brett, but good god she was going to have a talk with Lynus about Ron and this 'brick shithouse' of a man...child? She hoped it was a child that hit Brett. No adult had an excuse to harm a child over some creative banter. She, too, barely managed to hide her laughter when he finished his speech.

"Well..." Isla snorted, looking away for a moment to collect herself. "I hope we learned today to not antagonize a lad that is bigger than us." She mused as the boy walked away.

She turned back to Arryn, noting the way he'd shifted from the humorous mood to one more serious. "Mhm. I'd be more concerned with what's-his-name, personally. Lady Pirian never threatened me. Not to my face at least." She muttered, mimicking the stretch Arryn demonstrated for her. "Tell me, why is she so desperate for a man who does not want her? Lynus hoisted her off on you for a while, did he not? He was so upset by this whole ordeal that he barely spoke more than apologies for involving me in this mess and reassuring me that she means nothing to him."

She stiffened at the touch, but forced herself to exhale and relax as best as she could with someone's hands on her.

A scowl was sent in his direction as she snapped back, "Muscles didn't bring weak men to my bed unfortunately. No one there was looking for a girl to fight back."

She shifted her stance into...something. Judging by the nudges, it was not the right position. Isla followed his instruction, making every mistake just before he could correct her aloud. In the end, she got somewhere better than where she had started. Somewhere far from decent if the look on Arryn's face told her anything.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the next. "I feel like an idiot." She admitted, dropping her arms for a moment to let her muscles relax. "I should just buy a sword and call it a day. My fists aren't going to stop anyone, now are they?" She wiggled one of her slender arms.

 

[Arryn Cross]

"Well Ron is smaller than even me. Someone's gotta stick up for him." Brett murmured, and Arryn smirked.

He shrugged at Isla’s comments about Lady Pirian. “Bexley is desperate for the pride and power that marrying the Prince of Vel Anir will bring her family. Love has nothing to do with it.” He quirked an eyebrow, his tone almost teasing. “Lynus has made his choice, you know that, right?”

When Isla mentioned her experiences with men, Arryn rolled his eyes, fixing her with a mock glare. “By Anireth, you’re a bundle of laughs,” he said, shaking his head as a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

He watched her drop her arms, and a bark of laughter escaped him. “But you could handle a blade, couldn’t you? They’re much heavier than your fists are,” he mused, tilting his head "You're giving up before you've even thrown a single punch. You need to learn this stuff before I put a weapon in your hands."

Arryn moved closer, guiding her arms back up into position, and this time he kept his hands just a fraction of an inch away from her skin, respecting her space. “Alright, let’s focus on balance. Shift your weight a little more to your back foot. Feel how that changes your stability?” He met her gaze, a seriousness mingled with encouragement shining in his eyes. “Trust me, you’ve got this.”

 

[Isla]

Isla did not want to condone violence, especially in children. Ironic considering she, herself, was learning to fight. But something in Brett's tone warmed her heart. She hoped Ron knew what a good friend he had, especially if he was willing to defend him and take a punch for something that meant so much to him. He was a good kid. Isla wondered how her little brothers were faring. A little over ten, would they be big bullies to smaller children, or had poverty struck them so badly that they were penniless, malnourished victims of the bullies?

She shook the feeling and focused on Arryn. "Thank you for acknowledging it, at least." She rolled her eyes when he commented on her experiences, as if it were a joke and not entirely genuine.

His comment annoyed her, but she knew he was right. She could hold a knife while buttering bread, but she was certain if someone attacked her in the kitchen that she would probably be a disaster while swinging it around to defend herself. She figured it was more likely she'd end up stabbing herself.

"I am not giving up..." She scowled. "I just needed a break from holding my arms up for so long." She admitted the second half, hoping he understood that while he was an expert, she could barely run across Lynus' room without needing a moment to catch her breath. She shook her arms out once more before letting him guide her arms back up.

There was a moment she stumbled over her own feet before regaining her balance. "Sorry." She mumbled, attempting once again to shift to the foot in back. Breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, she forced herself to focus for a moment before turning her face to him. "Is this any better?"