Sibling Spar

"Now, remember, you two. No biting." Calista laughed, smirking at Tristan as she slipped the little vial containing the cut stem of a burgundy rose into his breast pocket. Her eyes glittered with mirth as she straightened his jacket.

Across the field, Adelaide snorted and adjusted her grip on her training rapier. It didn't escape her how _much_ her old friend enjoyed teasing her brother-- really, it was about time those two had a proper talk with each other about their feelings.

Nobody quite knew exactly how rose duels-- a daring game of skill where two combatants competed to see who could knock a rose from the other's breast pocket first with their sword-- got their start in Eglantine. But as the heir apparent, Adelaide wasn't going to let herself lose easily. Especially not to her own brother.

Calista moved to slip the other rose into Adelaide's pocket-- one with petals as white as snow-- and smiled at her. "Don't go easy on him, okay?"

"Don't worry. I won't." Adelaide smiled back.

===

Tristan lifted his hand, touching Calista's as she placed the rose into his pocket. He kept an easy smile on his face, laughing at her teasing tone. "I'll try to keep both biting and kicking to a minimum." he promised.

Calista pulled away, and he watched her easy steps across the field.
Towards Adele, who already had her sword in hand. He took a breath, and claimed his own from the training bucket. He balanced it carefully in his left hand, and took his ready stance, smiling at the girls' chatter. "If you think I'm just going to roll over for you, sister dear, you've gone quite mad."

===

"Expect you to roll over for me? Perish the thought, brother dear." Adelaide fired back. "If you don't give me everything you have, I'll be sorely disappointed in you."

Calista took her place at the edge of the field, watching like a cat who has spotted a bird. Her role was that of the referee-- it took sharp eyes to spot the moment when a rose was scattered and call an end to the duel.

When Calista raised her hand to signal the start, Adelaide sprung forward. A duelist's footwork was of vital importance, and she was as much a dancer as a fencer, after all. Precision, control. Know exactly where your body is, and move deliberately rather than hastily.

She knew the way Tristan would likely respond to her first strike-- he'd move to parry from the left-- so instead she feinted high and to the right, faking a strike straight for his rose and then moving her blade to the side in a sharp movement to try to catch his as he blocked. At least jar his grip...

===

Tristan grinned, their familiar banter settling over him. Calista's graceful steps catching his eye. He watched her. Her hands--
The signal.

Adele was moving. Swift across the makeshift arena, her sword hand up, behind her.
He brought his own up, and ducked, throwing his weight to the left. He flowed easy as water around her, and shot out in a stab against her right shoulder. "You know me well, sister, but I learned from our last duel." he cooed, flicking his tail to balance himself, drawing his hand back to better guard his rose.

===

He slipped backwards, away from his sister's stab, and flowed back, back, and further back still until he was in line with Calista. He glanced at her, only a moment.
In the warm light of the setting sun, she almost seemed to glow. As beautiful as a flower.
Expecting the best from each of them.

Tristan tightened his jaw, turned his attention back to his sister, and dove in at her with a swipe to her knees, trying to follow it up with an upwards slash into where he predicted her rose would be. As swift as a falcon, as silent as an owl, his fins flaring to make himself larger, to steer and steady him on two legs.

===

Tristan backpedaled from her strike, withdrawing-- looking at Calista.

Distracted by Calista and her smile. Those two really needed to talk about their feelings.

Adelaide took the opportunity to adjust her grip, shift her weight to her front foot... "Letting" her brother recover. Reading the way his tail moved as he thought. The distraction had him telegraphing in a way that was normally below his skill.

So when he moved, so did she. When he committed to the strike, she stepped to the side, whirled past him, and brought her elbow and weight down on his back just as he started to move into the upwards strike.

===

Adele was in front of him.
And then she was Not. Tristan swore, and the blow landed just under his shoulder fins, throwing him off. He spun, tried to correct--and managed it just as his sister's blade stabbed through the burgundy petals on his chest, and oh so delicately plucked the rose from his breast pocket.

He stammered, stumbled, staring haplessly at the proof of his loss.
And whined, plunking his own sword back into the barrel. "Well played." he couldn't keep the pout from his lips, or from cross his arms. He couldn't look at Calista.
Or hide the way his cheeks were burning, as he replayed the duel in his mind. He'd... have to work on some things. "You win."