Victorious

[Astrid Brynn]

Past Thread - Astrid, age 14
Astilon Castle Grounds.

Astrid stood straight, her body trembling from exhaustion as she held her grip firmly around the sword. She had asked him not to go easy on her and he hadn't. Although, the blonde firmly believed that it had been his intention, until the boy had seen that she wouldn't be as easy to beat as first looks would have it seem.

Her boot was firmly pressed against the young boy's torso, keeping him down. Blood was dripping from the wound going along the line of her jaw to the area just below her ear. It wasn't deep - that much she knew, but it would leave a scar.

She had won. She was proud. But more importantly, she hoped he was proud. He'd taught her everything she knew and here was her moment to prove herself. And she'd won.

Her green eyes searched the small crowd for his familiar face and once she found him, a proud and beaming grin formed on her lips. She stepped back, bowed towards the young boy she'd fought (whom looked anything but pleased) before she side-stepped and rushed towards Severn.

"Did you see that?" she beamed at him. "I won!"

[Severn Alderman]

A low grunt escaped the broad man who had stood, his face an emotionless mask, while the children had sparred. He knew the royals were displeased with the way their precious princess refused to bow to their will. She had demanded to be given the martial training her male brethren were offered and didn't relent in her pleas until they were granted. She was smaller than the rest of them but she fought with a ferocity and will that could only have been learned by fighting not for duty or sport, but for survival.

"Calm yourself." Severn spoke with a quiet intensity, his eyes following as Astrid rushed toward him. "You have been the victor before. Act like it." When she reached him he knelt and wrapped his hand around the wrist of her sword arm. "Remember what I taught you." He lowered her hand with a surprisingly gentle touch in spite of the stern nature of his voice. "Keep your blade sheathed unless you have intent to use it."

Severn stood, releasing his hold upon her arm though the lessons weren't through. "There should be no joy in victory. A blade shouldn't be drawn for sport, but for survival. Take pride in you skill in practice, but do not consider yourself the victor if your opponent is not willing to give their life to take yours."

And with that harsh lesson spoken, Severn's features softened and a thing smile touched his lips. He reached out and ruffled the sweat dampened hair atop Astrid's head in a playful gesture. "But you did great." He admitted. "In another year you'll have to train with the Knights in order to be challenged."

[Astrid Brynn]

His chastise did nothing to lessen the immense pride the young girl felt, but her smile dampened and she nodded. He was right, though the blonde still felt proud. Not only because she'd won, but because everyone seemed to think of her as incapable. It was a personal victory, a way of which she'd been able to show that she was more than just the princess of Astilon.

"Yes, sir," she said, her eyes never wavering from the older, taller man, despite the touch upon her wrist. Once he removed his grasp, the blonde lowered her sword and sheated it. He was right; that much she knew. She wouldn't challenge his lessons, nor his wisdom. Despite her young age, she knew that he was the master and she was the student.

Astrid could only smirk in response at his words then, offering him a short nod that quickly turned into a cheeky grin when he ruffled her hair. He was proud of her and that meant more than anything else right then. "If they'll ever allow that," she replied with a sigh.

[Severn Alderman]

Astrid was prideful of her abilities, as she should. Severn held very little regard for the teachers and alleged weapons 'masters' in the employ of the royal family. They taught a pupil how to hold a blade, yes. How to handle it, swing it and even kill with it. But they didn't teach the respect one should hold for it. A warrior's blade was no mere instrument or tool, it was an extension of self. As was customary Severn had carried his father's sword from the moment he was able to heft its considerable weight. It was just as much a part of him as his arms or legs and he'd taught Astrid this from the beginning.

"They won't have a choice if you continue laying waste to their brightest 'pupils'." Even though he taught humility and respect, Severn did take a great deal of his own pride in watching the small, unassuming girl beating her much larger and older peers. It only served to prove his methods of teaching to be not just beliefs, but proven truths. "Go wash up, Kit." Severn said, the thin trace of a proud smile remaining upon his lips. "We should take our leave before they can punish you for marring your cousin's 'perfect' face."

[Astrid Brynn]

Astrid really wished that she could be more free to do as she pleased and be who she had grown up to be. She didn't fit in within the royal walls, their life or their expectations. She often felt like a caged bird, though Severn being the only part in her life that made sense and that felt constant. She owed him a lot more than what she knew the words to express.

The blood along the line of her own jaw had dried; there was a dull pain - not enough for the blonde having any trouble ignoring it. She looked at the young boy she'd just fought over her shoulder and nodded. "Yes, sir." She saluted Severn then, the mischievous smirk still very much apparent against her features. And then she side-stepped and started moving through the crowd.

[Severn Alderman]

Unfortunately for both Astrid and Severn the royal family were planning another one of their lavish, unnecessary banquets in the early evening. The Sentinel had scarcely paid attention to the reasoning, it was more than likely to 'celebrate' the announcement of some arranged marriage neither party wanted or some similarly pointless and pedantic excuse for revelry. He hated the pomp and circumstance of such events just as much as any who grew up as he had. He saw little purpose for luxury beyond making people soft.

Thankfully for those who happened to find themselves among the out of place, Severn's new station allowed him easy access to the stables. By the time Astrid had bathed and dressed, there were a pair of horses awaiting them both. It went without saying the royals would be incensed at the princess going missing for the 'big' banquet but it would be fitting, given Astrid and Severn's habit of ignoring Astilonian traditions.

"There's another banquet tonight." He said, a mischevious smirk touching his features as he he led the horses toward Astrid. Severn only seemed to get such a gleam in his eyes when he knew he was going to infuriate one of the royals. "I thought we could either go for a ride or you could dress up and parade around for your brother's friends." Without needing an answer he handed over the reins to the smaller of the two horses.

[Astrid Brynn]

Upon emerging from the bath, the young blonde had found the beautiful, gold covered dress lying ready upon her bed. With a grimace, the blonde's head shook. She had never felt comfortable wearing dresses. She knew why they had to be worn, she simply didn't agree with it. They were uncomfortable, tight and made walking awfully hard. Sadly, her family didn't exactly agree with a woman wearing men's clothing.

Thankfully, Astrid rarely cared.

Smirking, the blonde shook her head. "Sometimes I think they blame you for ruining the princess," she teased. Then, her brows furrowed as she crossed her arms over her chest, looking from the horses and back to the man standing in front of her. "Why am I getting the smaller horse?" she asked.

[Severn Alderman]

Severn snorted, issuing a stifled laugh as his head shook. Astrid never failed to surprise him with her wit and snark. Where she'd picked that up he'd never know. "Because you're smaller." He reasoned. It all made sense to him, of course. It wasn't as if he'd had his choice of horses in the stables. The selection had been limited.

"These were the only two I could get without causing a problem at the stables." There was a bit of a grumble that leaked into his voice then. Severn hated the restrictions imposed by his new station. He found it suffocating at times. "It's still a full draft horse." He pointed it out. "I know better than to bring you a pony." He smirked then, still holding the rein out to her. "Now we can either argue about this until your brother shows up, scolds us like children and makes us attend his dreadful banquet, or we can leave while the guards at the gate are switching shifts."

[Astrid Brynn]

Still, the young princess remained stubborn. "Then you won't mind me taking the larger horse." A smirk crossed her lips and she raised her eyebrows as if daring the older man to challenge her stubborn ways. If there was nothing wrong with the horse or its size, naturally, Severn wouldn't mind having a go at it. Without waiting for a response or a complaint, the blonde took the reins of the larger horse and started moving around it, both her hands firmly placed upon the horses' back.

"Now, now, Severn, don't create a fuss," she mimicked him, clearly amused with herself. She had quickly learned to find pleasure and enjoyment in the smaller things in life. Which sadly more often than not, meant that Severn got the smaller stick.

[Severn Alderman]

Severn shook his head, though he didn't protest when Astrid took hold of the horse's reins. He knew better than to argue, especially when she'd turned his own words around and used them against him. She was smarter than he was, of that he would admit freely. He may have had a certain shrewd cunning but Astrid could still run mental circles around him if she so desired. He knew better than to take up a fight he had no chance of winning.

Within moments the two of them had left the castle behind them. The towering spires still stretch up into the sky, acting as a blight amidst the brilliant colors brought out by the setting sun. Severn still abhorred living there, though he knew Astrid belonged with her family. "I hear your brother is leaving again." Severn said, glancing in Astrid's direction. "He's said to be personally leading the final push against the Coterie." A terribly stupid idea, in Severn's estimation. Astilon had been without a ruler since the royal family was purged in a wide spread act of betrayal by the very order Severn was now reluctantly part of.

[Astrid Brynn]

Looking off into the distance, the young girl sighed. She had only been with her family for a few short years and it still felt alien to her. She knew little of politics and had even less interest in learning about it. She nodded silently, leaning forward so that she could rest her head against the horse's sturdy neck.

"I don't like wars. War means fighting and fighting means dying," she replied silently. She supposed that her biggest fear was that her brother would send Severn. He was an excellent soldier and it would make sense for him to go. She didn't want to be left alone.

[Severn Alderman]

"I think some are necessary." Severn replied, even though he shared Astrid's opinion. He'd heard the tales of the brutal atrocities the agents of the Coterie had perpetrated overseas and seen, first hand, their horrific actions in Astilon. He may not have agreed with the prince's course of action but if anything could rally the ragtag armies left over from the Accord Nations into a final push Severn supposed having a member of Astilonian royal riding into battle with them would do the trick.

"Rumor has it the only reason he's being allowed to go in the first place is because your older brother, Osric, is preparing to assume the throne." Just saying the words themselves left a bad taste in Severn's mouth. The machinations of royals, even ones as severe and potentially world affecting as a new monarch taking control were none of his concern. "I suppose having Astilon united by a single ruler instead of all the nobles bickering would be... beneficial?" Severn shrugged and shook his head. It's not like he paid much attention to it anyway.