Light Eyes; DarK Eyes

Sure enough, after that it did get better. Old ladies no longer glowered as much; muttered curses were less common and harder to hear. A few brave souls stayed on the same side of the street. The market grew accustomed to Aurora and Aiden walking up the street, talking, or laughing, which was happening more often as Aurora learned to read his moods. Little by little, Aiden was being accepted as another person, although he would probably always be detested to some extent. The guards still didn’t like him, for one.
“That’s to be expected, Princess.” He told her, fiddling with a stick of incense. “I’ve made their lives pretty difficult. Besides, our countries have been fighting for centuries. That isn’t going to go away just because I’m under contract.” He said, flipping the incense around like a small baton. He never seemed to sit still; while at the same time, it always looked like he hadn’t moved.
“Still…” She said, half distracted by the incense acrobatics. He spun it deftly, and put it back in the small cup that it had come from.
“That’s really all there is to it.” He said, stretching like a cat. The sound of wood banging together reached his ears. He went over to the window, looking down at a unit training in the palace courtyard. They were sparring one another with practice swords, and not doing particularly well. Aurora looked at him. Wondering what could have put the look of fascinated horror on his face, she came over. Looking out the window, she could see why Aiden was wincing next to her. The instructor had all but given up; he looked pretty close to tears, in a sergeant’s way; which entailed lots of shouting and a lot of repetitive drills.
“Erg,” was all she said, before turning away with a grimace. Aiden managed to tear his eyes away from the sight, and followed her. Aurora slung her sword on. He raised an eyebrow.
“You’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, am I right?” He asked, already picking his own blade, Hiraka, up.
“Quite probably.” The Princess answered. He sighed.
“I thought so.” The sword belt slid securely on, the leather as supply as the day it was tanned. They walked out, Aiden twisting his body to avoid the maid that had been about to enter the room. She stared after them, wondering why they were both wearing swords.
“So, what’s the plan, General?” he inquired jokingly, as they studied the situation from their place in the bleachers.
“Mm…how do you feel about some sparring?” She inquired, looking deep in thought.
“I’m sorry, what?” He asked, disbelief clear on his face. “Princess, I’m sorry to say it, but the straw dummies are winning.” Aurora looked at his dispassionately.
“Yes, I can see that, thanks. I meant, you and I spar. I’d like them to see a real match.” He blinked.
“I don’t mind. Will the contract allow it?” He asked, wincing as a trainee suffered from a particularly wicked blow from a broom handle.
“I think so, as long as we don’t cut each other.” She said, narrowing her eyes at a badly planned strike that resulted in the boy getting cut. On the sword hand. With his own sword. All of their swords were wooden, too.
“Then I say, the sooner we do this the better. Otherwise, I think someone is probably going to die.”
“I hate to say it, but I agree.” She said, vaulting the rail. The unit stopped, watching the odd pair walk over. The sergeant had covered his face in utter despair.
The students were fairly young, around twelve years old. Older, admittedly, then when Aiden or even Aurora was when they started with the sword. Both had learned never to underestimate someone younger with a blade, although it was a safe bet that their new students weren’t going to hurt anyone but themselves for a while.
“Sergeant, do you mind if we put on a bit of a show?” Aurora asked the man. He shook his head emphatically.
“No. Not at all. Please, by all means.” The man said, happy for any chance to avert disaster.
“Thank you. Aiden,” She turned to him, finding him at her elbow, waiting expectantly. “Shall we?” He grinned in response, eager to find out what she was made of. With a reputation like hers, who wouldn’t be?
They began a little distance apart from each other, leaving about three feet between them. They were relaxed, totally at ease with their weapons, both of which had razor edges. Their spectators retreated hurriedly to the bleachers, unwilling to get caught in the crossfire, or worse, miss something.
It started slow, a few tests, feints. Blades nipped at one another, blocking and striking as they began to speed up a bit. The trainees shouted favorites for a win, apparently betting on, mainly Aurora, the two fighting. Boos were yelled at the less popular Aiden; who, with the larger stature, was considered a bully. Aurora went on the offense, dancing in to take the advantage. Hilts locked briefly, and they broke away.
Veterans from earlier battles wandered in, having heard the commotion. They sat, making comments that the boys listened to, complimenting various blows and parries.
Their styles of fighting were very different, as were the swords they used. Aurora’s blade, Kirie, was shorter and lighter than Hiraka, Aiden’s sword. Hiraka was longer, with a plain hilt, and a double grip.
The blades clashed, bringing them face to face. They twisted away again, Aurora’s blade taking a lock of dark hair, while Hiraka created the smallest of slits on her sleeve. The sun was well overhead, and they were sweat dampened.
“A finale, do you think?” inquired Aiden, the next time they locked, before they slid away, keeping up their blade dance.
“That sounds good.” She said, switching her grip on Kirie. The sword blurred with the speed of the cut. Equal to the task, Aiden blocked, before parrying the following attack.
“My turn,” He said, going on the offensive. They had been fighting for almost fifteen minutes, nonstop. Both were more or less exhausted. The longer sword appeared to entwine itself with Kirie, from where the watchers sat, enthralled. The swords came up, hilts locked again. They broke for the last time, twisting around their owners’ bodies, to end the fight. Aurora’s back was to Aiden, who was right behind her. Her Kirie snaked past her shoulder, resting gently in the hollow of his throat. His arm and Hiraka had slipped under hers, stalemating her with the tip tickling the point right above her heart.
They were facing the stands, which erupted in wild applause. His blade slipped away, and he stepped back, leaving her back suddenly colder.