Stubborn problems always require a shift in paradigm.

[praiseandglory]

Porthos was nothing if not stubborn, and he refused to let this transformation keep him down. With no specific deadline to look forward to, he felt that he had no choice but to train, until he regained, even in this body, at least a modicum of skill at what he usually did best: fighting. It didn't help that the breeches he'd secured for himself in this form were a lot tighter than anything he was used to, but he was learning to move about in them well enough.

Much more troubling by far was the weight of his broadsword. The Schiavona was much too heavy for his current strength, but it was all he had to practice, and so he found himself outside in the gardens, going through the basic motions of swordfighting as if he were only getting to know it, hoping that repetition would help. But in this body, not only was his sword too heavy, but his balance was off, and even his very style was wrong for someone who could no longer fight like a force of nature.

Fifteen minutes into his exercises already found his oversized shirt sticking to his back with sweat, and after stumbling through yet another move that should've been easy, he pulled off the kerchief he wore over his hair and threw it aside in a show of temper, planting his sword down in the soft damp soil and looking about as frustrated with himself as a not-a-lady Musketeer could get.

Which was, apparently, a lot.

Comments

[praiseandglory]

Porthos shakes his head at Aramis's 'if'; he hadn't had his dagger on him when he wound up in the hotel, and it's not like he really uses it as a main gauche anyway. He much prefers making full use of his armoured gauntlet, and whatever else happens to be on hand.

So he doesn't wait to see if Aramis is going to lend him one, and does as he's told, instead. He's never been the sort to wait, when invited to attack.

At least he knows that a rapier means fighting with more thrusts than swipes, so that's just what he goes for, forcing himself to take into account how much shorter his allonge is, never mind his stride, and the amount of thinking he's got to put into it means that his move is extremely telegraphed, to an experienced swordsman.

[averygoodshot]

It is telegraphed, it's true, and easy to counter. However, that is a foundation to work from, rather than not being able to lift a sword.

Aramis pushes Porthos's thrusts aside, but not hard enough to take his friend's feet out from under him. "You're already doing better; just ... go faster."

[praiseandglory]

Porthos scowls, because he'd like to see Aramis trying to go fast when everything feels off. But it's not his friend's fault, and if Porthos has ever been good at anything, it's improvising his way through a fight with anything handy. So what if anything feels off? He's not about to give up, or waste time complaining. Instead, he repeats the same move without thinking about it much, because he's already done it once and he has to trust he won't fall on his arse for doing it again, faster.

[averygoodshot]

It's better and Aramis parries, pushing the sword away. That takes effort too, and he shifts to his right, using Porthos's blade to meet his. "You're already getting better."

[praiseandglory]

"Slightly less horrible, you mean," Porthos huffs. But goes for it again, except this time he tries to follow it up with a parry and another thrust when Aramis sweeps his sword aside.

[averygoodshot]

That gets Aramis 's attention, all right. He smiles, focusing on the sparring a bit so as not to get hurt. "I do, though, have a new appreciation for your strength with this blade."

[praiseandglory]

"My former strength," Porthos states, but there's something that almost looks like a smirk hanging at the corner of his lips. He can use the fact that Aramis is feeling the weight of his blade; his friend won't be as quick with the sword as he usually is. He goes for another attack, repeating the same moves to reinforce them in his mind and muscles, and adds one last, quick attack, praying he won't lose his balance and land on his face doing so.

[averygoodshot]

He doesn't end up on his face and nearly lands the blow too. Aramis dances back, twisting away and turning back on the other side. "You could surprise someone like this."

[praiseandglory]

"I'm hoping to surprise myself," Porthos answers, his footing surer now, muscle memory of another body mingling with what he's learned of moving in this one, now that he's focused on Aramis rather than on his own shortcomings. He presses on, very aware that his friend isn't giving it his all, but not about to call him out on it either. He's enjoying this shred of efficiency he's feeling too much for that.

[averygoodshot]

It wouldn't be fair to give it his all, though it doesn't take long for Aramis to be working up a sweat, doing more parrying. "And you were worried..."

[praiseandglory]

"You're going easy on me," Porthos retorts, because there's only so long he can let himself get away with pretending. He doesn't let that stop him, though; he feels more like himself right now than he has in weeks. The fact that it's Aramis, most likely, and that he's doing something physical without feeling like a useless fool.

[averygoodshot]

"All right," Aramis says, an admittance to that as he rolls his shoulders. "Come at me and I won't hold back."

[praiseandglory]

All right, then. Porthos stands back for a second, adjusting his stance into something that feels more natural, in this body. He tilts his head this and that way, raises Aramis's rapier, then grins his daredevil grin and lunges into a first attack. He knows he doesn't stand a chance, but he'll give it his best, even in this form.

[averygoodshot]

Jumping back (really, Porthos is quicker in this form), Aramis raises the bigger blade to block, then twists, trying to loose Porthos's grip. From there, he can push forward again (no, not as hard as he can... But close).

[praiseandglory]

Porthos is very aware that he should be on the ground already, and not because of his lack of balance. Blocking Aramis's attack is incredibly taxing, with the weight already behind it, and his face contorts as he gives it his all, then thinks better than to try and push back against it, and sidesteps it instead, of a sudden, hoping to catch his friend off guard. He's seen lighter fighters than him pull off that move times and times again, and Aramis's lack of familiarity with the heavier blade might just make it work.

[averygoodshot]

Even as he stumbles forward, Aramis has to laugh. Well played indeed. It is no surprise that Porthos is a quick study and already he has figured out how to best an opponent. As he gets his feet under himself, he turns, giving a nod. "Well done."

[praiseandglory]

Porthos can't quite help the proud smile on his lips, but he has to tilt his head towards Aramis and point out, "You were still holding back on me." But less so than before, and it feels brilliant, actually having managed something.

[averygoodshot]

"Only a bit," Aramis acknowledges. "You are much better though." He arms away the sweat from his brow.

[praiseandglory]

"The lighter sword helps," Porthos agrees uselessly, since Aramis very much knows that already. "Come on. Let's go again." He's nothing if not determined.

[averygoodshot]

Again. All right.

Aramis drops into his stance and raises the sword. Then he beckons Porthos closer, bringing the blade across to catch Porthos's inevitable thrust.

[praiseandglory]

Most of the bottes Porthos knows are now useless, without his usual strength and weight to carry them through, but he's already thinking about ways to adapt them so they might work for him now. It's a lot of trial and error, but after a good half hour spent trying things, he feels definitely better about his abilities in a fight. They're nowhere near what they normally are, but he could hold his own against a Red Guard, now. Not the highest standard, but it'll have to do for today.

He picks up the kerchief he'd thrown into the grass earlier and wipes his face with it, then grins over at his friend. "Thank you." There's no doubt that he means it, and he walks over to the bottle of wine to take a swig, then holds it out to Aramis, his rapier still in his other hand.

[averygoodshot]

The eineis much appreciated and Aramis gulps some down before taking a deep breath. "And you were worried," he says, smiling sidelong.

[praiseandglory]

"I'd like to see you suddenly useless with a sword," Porthos retorted, and shifted his hold on the rapier's guard to hold it back out to Aramis. Now he just needed to find himself a sword of his own, that would work for him until he shifted back and could use his Schiavona again.

Urgh, the typos. So sorry!

[averygoodshot]

"You weren't useless," Aramis reminds him. "Only just a bit caught off guard." He takes back his sword, slipping it onto the scabbard, then he hands Porthos his back. "You can't tell me you were truly worried?"

[praiseandglory]

"You didn't have to relearn how to walk, Aramis," Porthos retorts with raised eyebrows, and holds his hand out for the wine. Swordplay is incredibly thirsty work.