(514-10-01) More Spear, Please
Summary: Martyn gives Amalthea another lesson in using the spear. She is a tad aggressive with it.
Date: 514-10-01
Related: Logs of Amalthea and Martyn
amalthea martyn 


This place, less populated as it is, is where Amalthea has arranged to meet with Martyn for lessons with a spear. The newlywed shows up dressed much the same as ever, with her plain colored tunic, her dark tights, and her tall boots. The willowy brunette has her hair back in a braid, and in the crook of one arm she absently rolls a couple of practice spears. The setting sun hits her just right, making her golden-dark eyes sparkle as she turns this way and that, looking for another to arrive to this clearing off the road.

Making his way along the road and towards the clearning, steps rather slow, and with a thoughtful expression on his face, Martyn comes to a stop right after he's entered the clearing. Looking around, then to Amalthea, offering her a smile. "Hey…"

Amalthea's smile is soft and fond, at the same time as it is trepidatious. "Martyn, hello. I am so very pleased you could make it, and grateful for your agreement to give me a second lesson." Her normally boisterous words falter, though the curve of her lips does not. "I was not sure if… you would."

Martyn smiles, as he steps the rest of the way over. "Now why wouldn't I?" he asks, words kept quiet as he gets closer.

Amalthea's cheeks color a lovely shade of rose pink, and the lady ducks her darker head. "I thought, perhaps, with the wedding over and final, I might not hear from you again. You did not attend…" she trails off, lower lip ensnared between her teeth in a distinctly feminine gesture, worrying at tender flesh.

"I'm sorry about not being able to attend the wedding…" Martyn replies, a bit more quietly, before he adds, "There have been a few things that has kept me busier than usual, I fear." A brief pause, before he adds, "I hope you can forgive me for not being there?"

"Of course I can," Amalthea replies, head tipping back up, eyes landing on Martyn meaningfully. "Though I may never forgive you for the uncertainty that followed," the lady teases, her tone sliding back into the neutral playfulness of old. "What has been keeping you, dearest of friends?"

Martyn grimaces momentarily. "A few different things. Making sure to keep the area safe, helping my sister with some things, as well as preparing for the tournament, to mention some of them." A brief pause, as he seems to consider adding something else, but then he quiets down.

Success
Amalthea checked her awareness of 10, she rolled 6.

Amalthea narrows her eyes upon the man opposite her, shifting one spear out towards him. "You," she drawls, with a shake of her head, "are not telling me something. I will not press, if you do not wish it, but I hope that you know you might tell me anything." She smiles at him, the tall Dinton shifting her legs to a braced stanced. "I promise not to skewer you."

Taking the offered spear, Martyn grimaces momentarily. "I know. I just need to figure this out to myself before I can really speak with anyone else about it, though." A brief smile is offered, before he adds, "But rest assured it have nothing to do with your wedding. It's more about… myself." At the promise about her not skewering him, he grins. "Don't make promises you can't be sure to keep, Thea," he replies, lightly.

"I promise not to do it intentionally, then," Thea amends with an airy chuckle. She lifts the spear overhead, high into the blue, slightly chilly fall sky, stretching out her muscles. "Though if you are in need of an ear, I would gladly provide one. I do very much dislike the thought of something worrying you." She takes the same stance as he shower her last time, facing him.

Martyn smiles as he hears that, before he adds, "I promise that when I'm ready to speak about it, I will come find you?" he offers, before moving into a similar stance as the one she has taken. "Ready?"

Success
Amalthea checked her trusting of 10, she rolled 8.

Amalthea nods her head like a lamb to the slaughter in Martyn's direction. "Of course, Martyn. I trust you more than almost anyone." She shifts her legs, rolling back and forth before sinking into a bent-knees, widened stance. "I am ready. Go easy on me?" she teases, a sparkle to her golden eyes.

"A trust I would never do anything to abuse," Martyn replies, going silent again, before he offers a grin at that last part. Moving forward for a bit of an easy attack, movement slow now.

"I do hope not," Thea replies in a brief moment of solemnity, eyes catching on his, earnest and trusting. The attack, despite it's ease, has her falling silent so that concentration might be focused wholly on the man, his spear, and his movements. Regardless, the novice Dinton finds it extremely difficult to parry his thrusts with her own, stumbling once or twice over her own booted feet. She offers a grumble more befitting a sailor than a lady.

If he was facing someone with more experience with the weapon, Martyn would probably move a bit quicker. But for now he moves slow, giving her the chance to block the strikes. When one of them makes its way past her defenses, he offers a light poke to her side, before withdrawing it. Raising an eyebrow as he hears the grumble, "Those are some interesting words there, my dear," he offers to her.

Amalthea is lady enough, at least, to blush. "Ah, I do apologize," Thea mutters under her breath, shifting the haft of the spear to one hand so she might rub her side with the other. "Learning new skills… not my best attribute, I am afraid. Everything that was easy, I learned when I was younger. I shall try to spare you the stable language, though! Again?"

Martyn chuckles as he hears that. "Don't worry about it," he replies, with a grin as he steps back a bit, then moves forward into the same moves once more.

This time, at least, Thea is somewhat prepared. She steps into the movements with a little less hesitance, a little more force. "I shall try not to," she tells the knight with a low chortle. "Though I likely should. Given my profession, I should likely be overcompensating to prove my worth as a lady, and not just someone who lives in the stables."

Martyn grins, "Good." That offered to the way she steps into the movements now, before he chuckles, "You have proven your worth to the most important people already." It's offered quietly, as he steps back to approach again, this time the movements are a bit faster.

"You are too kind," The lady tells Martyn in earnest, and then Thea steps into the steps with all of her famous energy. She even manages to parry more than few of the thrusts she missed before, but in her zeal, WHAM, the butt of the spear comes up too fast, and the lady knocks herself on the head. She bites off whatever curses come to her lips, and instead settles for ducking her dark head and cradling it in one hand. "Oooowwww," is muttered low.

Martyn smiles, "You're doing well." That is offered before the lady manages to hit herself. Stepping forward, he lowers the spear, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right, Thea?" Sounding quite concerned now.

Thea takes a moment to respond, wincing as she does. "I… will be fine. Just… bruised. Both of skull, and of pride," the Dinton admits on a low, wincing chuckle. "Promise you will tell no one?" she demands of Martyn, smiling through her considerable pain. "And escort me back to the city? Perhaps ask me sums as we go to make sure I am not concussed…" And so they head back, Martyn carrying the practice spears, and Thea cradling her head.

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