[center][img]http://peterbaxterafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/Page-Divider.png[/img]
[b][u]POV:[/u][/b] [color=D22626][b]Cathryn Tully[/b][/color]
[img]http://peterbaxterafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/Page-Divider.png[/img][/center][center][b]|| [i]White Sword Tower, King's Landing, The Crownlands[/i] ||[/b][/center]

Cathryn’s brows narrowed as she focused intently on her to-be opponent, bringing to her mind any knowledge she held of the man since she had never witnessed his feats in combat ever in her life, and although this was an informal contest of martial prowess and not a case of combat on the battlefield there was no thought in her mind that she was going to fight any differently than she had. She had made a promise to herself many moons ago that she would never underestimate her opponent whoever they may be and especially that she would give everything she had until she was dead and buried; she would not act idly. Her opponent was a veteran member of the [i]Kingsguard[/i], and the sole survivor as far as she was aware following the incident in King’s Landing not that long ago. He was the [i]Lord Commander[/i] and even if he was a decade older than she at five and forty years past his nameday she knew that he was no indolent combatant despite murmurs of him being a “tourney knight”— after all, she had heard that his skill with a polearm was on par with that of Dornish spearmen; a feat not so easily accomplished.

And then Lord Commander Willas put his hand on the hilt of his [i]sword[/i].

“Lord Commander. I wish you to not give me an advantage, if we are to spar truly I wish to fight you with your proven weapon in hand.”

"It's going to be a sharp weapon. The reason poleaxes work is because I can poke. But if you insist." Willas replied, as he looked across, looking over Cathryn, taking in her size, her differences in physique, and what she would be like.

“If you are [i]afraid[/i] of wounding me, then grab a training variant.” She smirked, tauntingly. “I’ve endured much worse, I assure you.”

Intently not grabbing a wooden one, but a steel-tipped poleaxe that he'd traditionally used, the combination of a steel pole, with a pile affixed to the end, and an axe that flanked it, rather neat in his gauntleted hands.

"If you insist." Willas held the polearm tight, the training ground outside the White Sword Tower a useful place to start, as the Tyrell readied his stance. "Well, I suppose it'd be a nicer test to try and use a blade, but your enemies won't always use them, as you know." 

Her enemies had used axes, spears, swords, and bows— she was well familiar with what sort of weapons would be thrown at her and she had survived many scrapes and wounds with great success. The maesters had always told her that the gods had taken away one gift from her to give her another and perhaps believed she had inherited some sort of luck from such graces. Cathryn had always seen it as the maesters talking down to her and belittling her in clever albeit asinine ways. Cathryn wasn’t much for faith or science, all she knew was her body could take a beating despite being undeniably feminine and could wield a sword like no other.

“My enemies never have, Lord Commander. Let’s get on with it.” Cathryn reached out to her long sword, the metal sliding out of its sheath with a loud metallic ‘[b]shink[/b]’ as it did so.

With that, Willas started the spar, and moved forward, swinging the poleaxe a little, as he used the axe to commit to a high attack, finding that she was fast, as Willas kicked back a little, using a little force to throw Cathryn back, as he spun the polearm again. Coming back, he gave a sharp assault to the side, using the axe to counter Cathryn, before pushing forwards, thrusting the polearm forwards and upwards towards her chestplate, where he knew it wouldn't do any damage, watching as she recoiled a little away and countered, forcing Willas to raise the polearm itself and use the arm to parry, before pushing back.

"Good, good. You're countering neatly. And so far, you wouldn't be dead."

“I’ve fought rebels, criminals, hill clansmen, [i]ironborn[/i]. They haven’t killed me yet.” She managed as she kept circling her opponent, ducking and weaving when she needed to— her eyes looking to watch for the poleaxe with every strike. If it would come too close she could grab it along the shaft of the weapon or push it back. But she could not get arrogant here and she knew that, her brazen fiery disposition would not come out here today beyond a few smirks.

Willas chuckled, as he pushed forwards, using the polearm side to block one of Cathryn's attacks, before kicking out, hitting her straight in the abdomen, knocking her back, watching her stumble.

"I'll add Riverwomen to the list." Willas chuckled, as he saw her come back, and ready again, knowing it was a little dirty, but then again, Willas knew that fighting was never clean, as he awaited her next.

    [i]He’s faster than he looks.[/i]

Cathryn took a light breath before returning to her tactics— keeping her space outside of when she was in striking distance. This battle would be only over when Willas either said it was done or until he was on the ground unable to continue. However, as the events would prove in the next subsequent moments as the morning dragged on it was to be the former over the latter. After the two had traded blows past the morning bells of service, it was indeed Willas who decided to end their “match”.

Willas pushed back, knowing he could crack her open, but just didn't know if he could, or should have. A sharp pike was not good for anyone, and she probably knew it, just as much as he did, with the sword that was certainly sharper than a dulled blade. 

"We're going to kill ourselves if we fight any longer. And I still have Ser Marcyl to have a go with. Though I feel he'll keel over easier than you, if you don't mind me saying." He said, holding back, the Polearm in both hands, held at a long stance, as he looked at Cathryn, seeing she was breathing heavily, as was he, the both of them sweating, the spar extended; he simply added, chuckling, still semi-ready. "Long time since I've sparred like that. You and I both know that we're not exactly peasants with blades. So then again, I'm not suprised we kept it going. I bet the courtiers must have enjoyed it."

“Have you not fought in longer periods?” She inquired, taking a breath. As much as Cathryn didn’t want to admit it he was right to end the duel of sorts here and now before they wasted time and energy that could’ve been productively spent elsewhere. After all this was just a “test” to gauge her abilities as a member of the Kingsguard rather than take what he had heard at face value— at the least, Cathryn could understand and respect that.

"I have. You're an interesting opponent though. I wanted to study you just a little, you move with a certain poise, counter well, respond well to when there's a pike in your face. And there's still potential in you." Willas replied, chuckling lightly.

"Otherwise, I'd be dead. But sometimes you have to end the fight, in whatever grizzly fashion you have to. The reason this polearm works is because it can be pointed through gaps, your side, your helm. It is a difficult weapon, but, it works on a field of battle, not so well in a spar. Still." He added, commenting on his weapon, as he turned to the weapons rack, his blade still on his person.

“A dornish spearmen competed in a tourney in Riverrun once, I believe he was an Yronwood. I think you’d give him a good duel. You are quite skilled.”

"I'd enjoy that, but I'm beyond my time duelling people. The polearm is a weapon of choice for the Knights of the Reach on foot for a reason. We learned from our neighbors rather nicely." Willas placed the poleaxe into its position on a weapons rack, as he sighed, looking back at the tower.

"So, why was it now you chose to come to the Kingsguard? Why not a few years ago?" Willas asked, an honest question, not a blunt one, just out of his curiosity, as he exhaled, the morning sun in the air, thinking to himself of the events that had happened over the past night. It was only a matter of time before the news was found out.

“The Hand of the King, the Lord-Regent Garland Tyrell, sent a letter asking if it is an opportunity I would like to challenge myself to. Though he said it far more eloquently then I could ever do. I suppose before that letter I was ready to serve as my brother's personal guard given the circumstances.” Cathryn took a light breath, less out of fatigue and more out of anxiety. “He’s probably not too happy about my decision.”

"Makes sense. Serving family. It's a duty to our blood, after all." Willas wittily replied, as he led the way, heading back towards the White Tower itself, back inside, and into the shade.

"And I can imagine he isn't. But you're talented, and if the Seven bestow a talent to fight on your hands, the Warrior, then you don't embrace the others so much, I suppose." Willas was meek in his comment, as they headed through the main hall of White Sword Tower, the sight of ornamental pieces of armour on the left, of famous Kingsguard of times past, from giants to men such as Criston Cole, no less. It was remarkably empty, given that few squires, and few other courtiers were left around, Willas turning back to Cathryn.

"Tell me, would you have made for a good mother, d'you think?" Willas asked, again, as honest as his intentions could be, knowing he wanted to just poke Cathryn a little in regards to this, to explore her mindset a little.

Cathryn’s expression went cold as she looked down at the ground. “That was never a possibility to me, the maesters told me that some years ago. So, I’m not sure… how I could answer such an inquiry, or at the least truthfully so.”

Willas turned his head again, stopping his slow walk, looking on. He realized fast what she meant. "Seven Hells. I see."

"I suppose motherhood would have been a waste when you can fight that well." He chuckled lightly, wanting to break the ice between himself and Cathryn, knowing that he did view things a little light-heartedly sometimes, even though it was a serious topic to handle.

She rose her head, a soft smile raising on her lips. “I’m the first woman to be granted this opportunity, to be a member of the Kingsguard. I can only imagine what that means going forward. It’s motherhood in its own way, isn’t it?”

"I guess it is. We're a family now. Lots of firsts in this Kingdom anyway, but you're right, the Kingsguard doesn't normally admit women. But they never said it was a restriction. It was merely the best Knights in the realm, seven of them, to guard the King. You seem like one of them." Willas commented, as they continued walking, heading up a set of stairs, up the thin tower, as he looked back.

“Brianne Tarth was eventually knighted— I think she was the first in that regard. I suppose it’s like I am carrying on her legacy that she left behind. At this rate we’ll have an order of knights exclusive to womanhood. Wouldn’t that be something.”

"Wouldn't it just." Willas smiled, knowing she was right. Perhaps the world was changing, faster than anyone could guess. There could be a Queen on the Iron Throne again, in her very own right, and women like Alerie and Lyanna still played an important role in the Reach's politics. Women weren't submissive, not in the knowledge Willas was seeing now.

“But perhaps we should worry about protecting kings and not dreaming. Should we call Marcyl down now to get this done with and get to our duties or?”

"I'll call him soon...I need to write to Lord Garland. Get yourself something to drink, take the place in a little. I'm sure you're finding all of this a little new to you, but this is our home, after all." Willas simply replied, turning to face Cathryn.

“Very well. Until we next meet, then.”