An Afternoon's Work
"So why have you called me down here?" asked Artoire Arc as he entered the office of Cherise Cheshire. His years of combat experience kicked in as he saw the woman rushing at him, what looked like a sword in hand. Crocea Mors was in his hand instantly, striking out on instinct. Rather than the clang of sword meeting sword or the sound of his blade cutting through flesh, the headmaster of Beacon heard a dull thud.
Calming down after the initial kick of adrenaline when he realized no follow-up attack was coming, Arc noticed the large kite shield he had hit, emblazoned with twin crescents. Cherise Cheshire's head peeked around the edge of the shield, looking at it rather than him.
"Hah. Not a scratch!" she said, standing up and lowering the shield. Arc sheathed Crocea Mors and relaxed a bit, though not entirely.
"Seriously, what was that about?" exclaimed Arc.
Cherise shrugged nonchalantly. "A final test for the shield worthy of Crocea Mors. It's no Star Platinum, not yet, but it's closer than anyone else could get. You're welcome."
"You made me a shield?" he asked incredulously. Cherise Cheshire was a stupidly busy woman, to the point that most people just figured that she never slept. That she had taken the time out of her schedule to make him a shield, just because he had been looking for one was flattering. Maybe there was some merit to those rumors about romantic feelings between the two, at least in one direction.
"Don't patronize me. As if I'd make something as simple as a shield." she scoffed. "It's dense and heavy as a shield to withstand anything. And the shield gets smaller, so when you get tired of carrying it you can just put it away." As if to prove her point, the kite shield collapsed into the center strip, which Arc now realized was hollow so it could act as a sheathe.
"But, wouldn't it weight the same?" he asked.
"Perhaps if you got it made elsewhere by some hack, as you were no doubt planning to do. I've laid some intricate dustwork into the shield. When it's a shield, it's heavy enough to bash away to your heart's content." The shield came back out and swung through the air. Arc could hear the weight of it. "And when it's a sheathe, the dust makes it light as a feather." Proving her point once again, Cherise balanced the sheathe on a single fingertip.
"That's… very impressive. Thank you Cherise." She handed him the sheathe, which quickly replaced his own.
"Think nothing of it. That dustwork will outlast your family line by the way, so feel free to will it and Crocea Mors as a set to your children." Cherise mentioned before heading behind her desk to sit down and start working on paperwork.
"No really, thank you. What do I owe you?" he asked, taking out his wallet.
Cherise looked up at him like she would a student she caught cheating on a test. "Do I look like a woman with a shortage of funds Arc?"
"Not really, no." he said, putting his wallet away.
"You let me study Crocea Mors. I can't recreate Star Platinum yet, but I will figure it out eventually. Until then, you'd best be ready to let me at your sword again. That will be payment enough."
"Well consider this an open invitation. So long as I'm not in the process of using it, feel free." he joked.
"Much appreciated. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some final papers to grade. I swear, these get duller every year." Cherise grumbled.
"You have that few left?" he asked, looking at the small pile next to her. "After spending all this time on my shield, I'd have figured you'd actually be behind for once."
"I have excellent time management skills." she said, still grading papers. "It only took a few hours anyways. You're so easily impressed."
AN: I have no idea why I was so inspired to write this, but here we are. I needed the break from Star Wars anyways.