Muireen do Morny a'Lordeine
Muireen followed dutifully, near giddy at the prospect of learning more. It wouldn't have mattered if Nani Gaidar had said that they were going to learn the fine art of geese-strangling; the fact that any of the Warders had faith in her ability to learn and thrive was exhilarating. She knew that there would be a little grief after Nani released her for the afternoon - she would have to commit to communicating with her father, come face-to-face with her own cowardice, and likely have an explosive dispute on her hands. Ladies did not run away to become Warders... She kept her eyes locked on Nani Gaidar's back, and swallowed nervously. No, ladies did not run away to become Warders. Perhaps the fault was an internal one, and she was never meant to be a Lady anyway.
She padded along after the Warder like a stray puppy, only distancing herself from Nani once they had arrived in a training ring. The soft dust felt good beneath her boots; it had felt more like trespassing on sacred ground before, but she had purpose here, now. She had just as much right to be here as any of the other trainees. Muireen rolled out her shoulders and stretched her hands, taking little pieces of preparation from the other disciplines that she had learned some of, ready to watch and learn.
"There are three stances main stances," The Gaidar began, "Misery, Loves, and Company." Muireen could not help but smirk, and only barely stopped herself from laughing out loud. Misery does love company. Anyone that meets the Tessen would be very miserable indeed. However, Muireen's amusement quickly transferred to scandalized awe; perhaps she should have had some inkling of the sensuality involved, considering the War Fan's origin, but it had not occurred to her that the Gaidin were not spouting philosophy when they said that war was art. At the very least, learning a traditionally feminine weapon looked more like an art than Dax Gaidin's chicken dance.
The Gaidar slid down, almost into a lunge, right foot forward - her right hand came up, and flicked her fan open wide. Her left hand held a closed fan, held close to the leg that she had sunk down onto. Muireen watched carefully - the Warder's weight had shifted, and she kept her balance by slightly bending her right knee. She sank into the stance with grace, and it occurred to Muireen that she was going to need to be very flexible in order to use War Fans; Nani Gaidar looked barely strained - she probably could have done a complete split, if she wanted.
"This stance is Misery," the Gaidar announced, "If ever we do another festival around here, you and I may be able to use these stances as a starter and wow the crowd." Muireen did not have to see her features to know that she was smirking - it was abundantly clear that the Warder was aware of the effect of her stances. The Warder rose carefully, slippery as an eel, and her feet were shoulder-width apart. Her fans were held carefully: both were opened with a fluid flick of her wrist, and the one in her right hand covered the lower half of her face, while the one in her left covered her chest defensively. At least,]/i] Muireen thought weakly, As defensive as silk could be. It was beginning to sink in that this was a very vulnerable fighting style - she would not have much to defend herself. Muireen knew that she was not strong enough to heft an axe or swing a sword, but she had never before had an appreciation for the space that larger weapons could create between her an opponent - whether she was using throwing daggers or fans, she would be up close and personal.
"This is Loves, best used for confusing the opposition, or throwing your fans as a distraction," the Gaidar continued, seemingly unaware of the drin's revelation, and then sank again into the third and final stance. It was the reverse of Misery, at first, but Muireen noticed that she held her fans in different positions; her right hand was extended and held her fan upside down, and her left hand held a fan close to her face, protecting her exposed neck. "Now, the final one is Company. You can do these in any order, but you will for now do them in the order I showed you."
Muireen nodded fiercely, sending her curly hair bouncing, and took the second disarmed blue fan. She positioned herself carefully - right foot forward, left one back, and... Sink... It was a painful stretch, and her left thigh began to scream immediately; she had been trained in ballroom dancing and was graceful enough, but ballroom dancing never required sinking. Her left boot scraped in the gravel as she tried to force herself farther down. Muireen grit her teeth and looked to Nani Gaidar for reassurance. It felt so foolish trying to emulate the woman's grace, like a duckling trying to be a swan. She tried to discard her fears of looking foolish, and frustration flared within her chest - what sort of arrogance had taken hold of her, thinking that she would be good at something on the first try? Muireen breathed evenly and sought the Void, and it danced away as cheerfully as it always did. The ko'di would not aid her here. She'd have to rely on herself.
She took the fans and tried to hold them as Nani had: she fumbled with the fan in her right hand as she tried to open it and promptly dropped it. Muireen growled beneath her breath, dipped to retrieve the fan, and tried again. It clumsily opened for her, but that was better than dropping it again. She held it out in front of her, thankful that she did not need to open the fan in her left hand yet. If she dropped the fan while she was trying to use her stronger hand, she was sure that her left hand would be a disaster. She moved into Loves, carefully trying to stand again. Her left foot grudgingly obeyed, sliding back up at a faltering, choppy pace. Her face flamed, but she persisted. The fan in her right hand was already open, and once her feet were squared beneath her shoulders, she brought it up to cover the lower half of her face, angled to protect her throat as well. Instead of attempting to flick the fan open with her left hand, she carefully and slowly spread it open. Muireen didn't want to drop it again; flicking would could come with practice. For now, she was focused on the stances.
Once the left one had been opened, she brought it against her chest, covering her breasts, and she paused for a moment before sinking into Company. She kept her left leg forward and sank back on her right, making her right thigh burn like her left had before. It was a satisfying stretch, even if it was difficult to achieve. Once she had settled her center of gravity, she focused on the fans; the fan in her right hand was brought before her, and she awkwardly twisted her wrist so that it was pointing down. If it had been tipped, the tips would have been facing the ground. Her left hand came next, and the still-open fan was brought to cover her mouth and throat protectively.
She could not tell if Nani Gaidar was impressed or not. Muireen assumed that the Warder was not very impressed at all; they rarely were, and this one had just watched a drin'far'ji stumble through her life's work. Her face flamed again and she was grateful for the fan that covered the lower part of her face. She didn't dare ask for the Warder's opinion, but instead waited silently for the Gaidar to deliver judgement.