[Closed Post: En Garde]

[timebethine]

Just as Laertes has developed his own routine here--the regular rounds of breakfasts and dinners do much to give shape to his otherwise formless days--he's observed others' routines. Lancelot, for one, always trains at the same time every morning. At times, as he's shuttled back and forth between the clay bed by the lakeside and his kiln, Laertes has ridden Fenyes past the training yard while Lancelot has been practicing, and he'd reviewed the other man's swordplay with a critical eye. Watching him wheel and thrust in the cool grey light of morning, a part of him has craved the challenge of a second duel.

Today, he sates that craving. He strolls up on Lancelot with a thin, sheathed blade in one hand and his rapier buckled at his waist. "Hallo," he calls. "Wouldst thou like to try a rapier?"