It was all coming back to him, slowly but steadily. Elijah teaching him the basics, a few rare spars with Kol, steadily besting his brothers, becoming quicker and bolder, smug enough that Mikael would step in and teach him a lesson about humility. His father had always been so good at it.
This time, it was easier, devoid of the emotions that Klaus could never deny about his family, each and every one of them. This time, it was falling back into old habits and correcting them with Nuada's help, the elf the most skilled opponent Klaus had ever fought against. There was a smoothness, a fluidity and a ruthless efficiency to the way he moved that no human could ever hope to gain, even diminished as he must also be compared to his usual self. And it was simple. The pain of any blow Klaus failed to block was just that, physical pain, and much as the bruises would stick around for longer than he liked for them to, they would be that much better a reminder of what he was learning here.
It was, all in all, thoroughly enjoyable to get poked at repeatedly, if only for the few blows he managed to land himself. It was also far too long since he had had some proper physical exertion, and there was something about actually breaking out into a sweat. Again, he had Nuada's proficiency to thank for that; a simply human opponent would likely not have been enough.
This spar ended when he misjudged Nuada's counter, backpedaled, and landed very unceremoniously on his ass. He only just had time to block the first of Nuada's mock-swords, but no time to parry the second, which jabbed him in the ribs. He laughed even as the pain shot through him, and let himself go limp on the mattress.
"Tripping over my own feet is a clear sign I'm unlikely to learn much more today," he stated, amused at himself.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-03-30 10:44 pm (UTC)From:This time, it was easier, devoid of the emotions that Klaus could never deny about his family, each and every one of them. This time, it was falling back into old habits and correcting them with Nuada's help, the elf the most skilled opponent Klaus had ever fought against. There was a smoothness, a fluidity and a ruthless efficiency to the way he moved that no human could ever hope to gain, even diminished as he must also be compared to his usual self. And it was simple. The pain of any blow Klaus failed to block was just that, physical pain, and much as the bruises would stick around for longer than he liked for them to, they would be that much better a reminder of what he was learning here.
It was, all in all, thoroughly enjoyable to get poked at repeatedly, if only for the few blows he managed to land himself. It was also far too long since he had had some proper physical exertion, and there was something about actually breaking out into a sweat. Again, he had Nuada's proficiency to thank for that; a simply human opponent would likely not have been enough.
This spar ended when he misjudged Nuada's counter, backpedaled, and landed very unceremoniously on his ass. He only just had time to block the first of Nuada's mock-swords, but no time to parry the second, which jabbed him in the ribs. He laughed even as the pain shot through him, and let himself go limp on the mattress.
"Tripping over my own feet is a clear sign I'm unlikely to learn much more today," he stated, amused at himself.