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SWEAT BUILDS UP AT ASTRID'S NECK, baby hairs sticking to her skin uncomfortably. She ducks down, the fist missing and punching the humid air above her. Just as quickly as she ducked, she grabs the wrist twisting it, making the opponent forcefully turn their back to her. Her foot slams against the back of their knee and makes them crumble to the ground.
Astrid backs up with a victorious grin, leaning against the ropes of the wrestling ring with her arms spread out against it. It had been at least two hours of combat training, and almost every time, she had kicked Anakin's ass.
The Jedi Knight had walked into the training room to speak with Astrid about 'diplomatic business' and found himself watching Astrid about to start training. His eyes had lingered too long on her body to be professional and Gery, her family's trainer, had caught onto it.
The trainer grinned sneakily as he suggested that it would be better if a Jedi could train her for this session, and of course, Anakin couldn't disagree, especially after seeing Astrid in those black leggings and sports bra.
