The Duel

Leaning back, Thor avoided the sword swipe before coming in with a thrust aimed at his opponent's torso. However, his blade was parried to one side, Thor spinning with the momentum and coming round, slashing at them. Once again though, his blade strike was directed to one side and the tip of a fine-edged sword resting against his throat.

"You did well, my Prince," Fandral said, lowering his blade as a sign of their duel ending. He was another one of many instructors that Thor had, serving a purpose similar to Volstagg. A sparring partner of a skill level beyond Thor's current level, a figure to strive to surpass while serving as a constant reminder of how much he needed to grow. Unlike Volstagg who proved to Thor the difference in strength between them, Fandral proved the difference in skill.

Whereas Thor could exchange blows with Volstagg, trading blows back and forth with him.

When it came to Fandral, Thor had yet to land a single blow against the man. His blade was light, steps light, and his skills sharp. Every strike was deflected and redirected in directions that left Thor off-balance and exposed. Even when he attempted to defend against Fandral, which only posed more problems, Fandrals weapon was able to sneak through gaps and land blows when he least expected it.

Thor had learned early on it was much easier to attack and try his best to stop Fandral from being able to counter than simply trying to defend against him.

"Your attack as always is aggressive and strong, you've been taught well." Despite those words, Thor could tell where it was going to lead to and frowned heavily. "However, while your defence has improved, it is still a dangerous weakness easy to exploit."

That was something Thor had always known, it was something he was told constantly. He was an aggressive fighter, one that believed that the best defence was a strong offence. With his developing strength and skill, Thor was set to become one of the strongest and most skilled warriors in Asgard. A fighter that very few would be able to properly defend themselves against, someone who did not exploit weaknesses, but just hammered away at their opponent until they crumbled under the pressure.

It was a king of fighting that Thor enjoyed the most, it was why Volstagg was his favoured tutor and sparring partner. The two of them were similar in many ways and shared an equal love for endurance-based combat.

They saw it as a challenge to see who would break under the pressure first.

Them or their opponent?

However, Thor often wondered to himself if the reason Odin did not acknowledge him was that he ignored his defence. So, he did what he always had and committed himself to improve that weakness as best as he could.

Progress was slow though.

"We go again," Thor demanded, adjusting the grip of his blade and moving into a ready position.

Fandral in response bowed his head, moving a few paces back and getting into his own starting position. "When you are ready, my Prince." Thor narrowed his gaze, concentrating upon Fandrals form, recounting what he knew of the warrior and how he would respond to certain attacks. His mind worked hard, rushing through possibilities a mile a minute and trying to find a solution to defeating one of many seemingly insurmountable foes that Thor had faced in recent years.

But just as Thor was ready, body tensing in preparation to dash forwards and begin the fight, the doors leading out onto the balcony overlooking the private training courtyard opened. Thor stumbled slightly, his body already having been in motion, forced to bring himself to a halt. Fandral helped, stopping the young Prince from stumbling to the ground by bracing one hand upon his shoulder.

Shaking his head, Thor scowled deeply, ready to turn and chastise whoever had so brazenly entered in a time like this, only to see Queen Frigga, his mother walking down the stairs. At her side, the young girl he and Loki had met sneaking around the palace a few days ago, Sif at her side.

She was dressed differently this time, no longer garbed in a simple, but an expensive dress. This time garbed in a loose tunic and pants, a sword strapped at her side and her hair pulled back into a ponytail.

It was a sight that Thor had not expected and so struggled to find the words to speak. From going to berate the intruder to then being shocked at his mother and the young girl by her side, Thor just remained silent, unsure of what to say or how to vocalise it. Instead, opting for a simple, "Mother?"

"Thor?" Frigga returned, smiling. "Do you have something to say?"

"What are you doing here?" Thor asked.

As Frigga and Sif came down onto the courtyard, she placed one hand against Sif's back and pushed her forwards. "I came here to guide Sif, she was a little lost and ended up going to the wrong courtyard in search of you." Thor only looked further confused. "She will be training with you from time to time."

She wasn't blind to her son's determination and drive, nor was anyone. Thor trained harder and for longer than nearly all Asgardians, pushing himself to achieve more. While it had led to many holding respect for the young prince's determination, it had left many unknowing of what Thor was actually like.

Was he kind or was he cruel?

Was he funny or was he humourless?

Was he gentle or was he firm?

No one could say, except for those who interacted with him. But they were not his friends, the only one Thor could call friend being Loki. Frigga worried that he may be so focused on getting stronger, trying to gain Odin's praise that he was ignoring those around him, shutting himself off from the world. Perhaps that's what Odin wanted, but it was not what she desired for Thor.

As much as she would stand by Odin through many things, this was not one of them. It was why she had invited Sif to the palace a few days ago and was why she had invited her to the palace today. She was a young warrior in training, Heimdall having spoken of her skills with pride evident in his tone. If there was anyone she hoped Thor could forge a bond with, it was Sif and so she had orchestrated this little meet up for that reason.

'Though perhaps I should have told him beforehand, rather than leaving it as a surprise.' Frigga thought to herself, turning to Fandral. "How about letting the two of them spar against one another?"

Fandral bowed his head. "Of course, if both of them agree to it?" The last part was directed more towards Thor who didn't answer right away. Gaze turning to Fandral, to Sif and then to Frigga. It was upon looking to his mother that Thor sighed, relenting to his mother's ploy.

"Of course." He muttered begrudgingly.

It was not that he had anything against Sif, in fact, he had quite liked her from when they first met. But he didn't like people interrupting his training sessions, nor did he like the idea of training from Fandral to training with someone like Sif.

Had she even trained before?

"Both fighters take positions." Spinning his blade loosely, Thor settled into a light stance, Sif taking position across from him, blade clutched in both hands as she stared at him. Thor meanwhile watched as Fandral sheathed his blade, Frigga moving to stand at his side, smile still upon her face. "Begin!"

Quickly Sif dashed forwards, rapidly closing the distance between the two of them and Thor for a moment was caught by surprise at her speed.

She was fast.

Very fast.

Even as he stepped backwards to avoid her horizontal slash, Sif seemed to have expected this, her slash shifting into a powerful thrust, her foot taking one large lunge forwards as to increase the range of her strike. In response, Thor parried her blade upwards, taking one final step forwards before moving coming forwards, a slash aimed at her exposed abdomen somethng he intended to be the deciding factor of this duel.

Only for Sif to duck under the strike, her own blade coming dangerously to cutting into the backs of his knees. However, Thor parried the strike at the last minute and came back with a strike of his own, one that Sif attempted to block only to find herself unable to take the brunt of his strike.

Knocked back, Sif rose her blade in shaking hands as best she could in preparation for a follow up strike, but one never came. Thor, instead of pressing his advantage paused, forced to reevaluate his view of Sif in just that shrot exchange.

She was good, far better than he had given her credit for.

Thor's gaze flickered momentarily to Frigga, seeing the smile upon her face having widened considerably. Fandral meanwhile looking upon with a raised brow, impressed by the showing so far.

Tightening his grip upon the handle, Thor focused his gaze back upon Sif once more, stance widening slightly as Sif shifted back into her original stance. Just as he expected, she dashed at him once more, this time coming in with a low sideslah, crouching down low and extend her body out, just outside of his own sword range while reaching out as far as she could.

Her strike was aimed at taking out his legs, removing his ability to move away.

But Thor met her swing with his own, he did not parry the strike elegantly like Fandral, nor did he block the strike like his other instructors taught him to. Instead, in a move reminscent of Volstagg, Thor swung at her sword as if it was his opponent, meeting her agressive swing with his own.

In this situation, the difference in strength between the two became evident.

Sif's blade was knocked backwards, her arm swinging back wildly, eyes widening in shock as her sword nearly slipped from her fingers. She just barely manage to keep ahold, now forced with trying to defend against Thor while standing upright and being entirely off-balance.

From that point on, the fight did not last much longer.

Sif was skilled for her age, very skilled.

She was stronger than most and her speed was by far, her greatest asset. But Thor was simply better, he moved much more fluidly, hit harder and with more precision. He had been trained by the greatest warriors in Asgard and had pushed himself to his limits in ways most Asgardians would not think of doing at such a young age.

Sif did well considering the circumstances, better than most would have expected, none more so than Thor who had expected this to be an easy victory. From an outside perspective, it still was, but to Thor, this victory had not been so simple to come by, the early fright had nearly led to his defeat in the opening portion. As humiliating as it was, this early fright also forced Thor to no longer hold back.

A horizontal strike that Sif barely blocked sent her stumbling further backwards.

An upward swing caught her blade with such force that it knocked her off her feet and when she landed, Sif felt the breath leave her lungs. It was only when she had recovered did she notice the tip of the blade mere inches from the bridge of her nose lying between her eyes.

Sighing, Sif let her grip on her sword go. "I yield." She said and Thor smiled, pulling the sword away. Then, to her shock he presented his free hand to her and with a moments hesitation, took the offered hand with a grateful smile and allowed him to help her to her feet. "My brother was right, you are skilled."

"So are you, better than some of my sparring partners." This made Sif's smile widen even further, something that strangely Thor was quite nice to look upon. "...Do you want to spar again?"

Sif nodded her head happily. "Yeah."