Chapter Text
“Enough! Enough.”
Siegfried immediately drops his sword arm and turns to face his father walking towards him from the outskirts of the training hall. Sweat dripping down his chin makes him shutter, but the young prince ignores it the same way he ignores his heavy breathing.
“Your arm needs to be steady, not shaking.” It's a privilege to be taught by the King personally. Siegfried reminds himself of that fact everyday.
“Your opponent won’t be static,” His father kicks the training dummy, and worn from hours of training, it falls over and snaps into pieces. “Don’t train thinking that way. You must be prepared.”
“Yes, father.” For years he has been practicing, but it isn’t enough. He can read it off his father’s face easily, the boredom and indifference. He needs to become better. As a Prince of the Country Unus, he must.
“I said don’t follow me!”
“But brother, you’re not allowed in there when-”
Pushing through the entrance, the boys come stumbling in one after another. Siegfried furrows his brows and says nothing to them, instead turning to his father. At the sight of him, the middle Prince readjusts himself, standing at his full height (almost matching Siegfried himself) and the youngest does the same, still holding onto the other’s sleeve.
“Reinhart. And Marius.” he acknowledges. “Did you need something?”
“We apologize, Father, for intruding-” Marius starts, when Reinhart interrupts him.
“Father spends so much time with Siegfried,” he says loudly. Siegfried thinks it is like a dog barking. “Let us train too.”
It is impossible. They all know that. But when he says his request, Siegfried finds his father smiling.
“Sure. If that is what you want.” he says. Crossing the grounds, he passes the two’s stunned faces without so much as looking at them.
“My lesson isn’t over!” Siegfried protests.
“This is your lesson.” He tosses a steel sword to Reinhart then to Marius, the other of which falls and he scurries to pick up. Siegfried groans. They are younger than him, so at the very least, things will end quickly. “Are you ready?”
“I am ready.”
“Ready!”
“Yes, father.”
“Then,” he raises his hand, cutting through the air. “Begin.”
The younger two step towards the inner circle. Siegfried, falling into position as he watches their movements, considers which to go after first. The obvious answer is Marius, being so much smaller, but with Reinhart…
“Marius!” Reinhart calls. The decision is made for him. “You’re not standing-”
“Reinhart!” Siegfried attacks him, running forward as he swings his sword downwards. Reinhart blocks him, swinging upwards, setting them into a back-and-forth. “Watch out!”
When Siegfried blocks his next attack, a body pushes against the side of his torso, not strong enough to shove him to the ground, but enough to throw him off balance.
“What are you doing?” Siegfried calls. “That isn’t proper!”
“Good work!” Reinhart laughs. With that move, Marius staggers back to Reinhart’s side. Extending his hand, Reinhart lifts his arm. “Again!”
Things are becoming more troublesome than proper experience. Why treat it like a game when they’re the one who requested it?
Siegfried looks at his father then. His arms are crossed, while one hand covers half of his face. Through the edges of his fingers, he’s sure he could see him smiling.
What is this?
Reinhart finds him again. The previous hours of practice have worn him somewhat, but he can see Reinhart is cracking too.
“Watch out!” Marius is never too far away, but his sword remains loosely in his hands.
“Stop talking!” Reinhart yells.
There’s an opening. Siegfried thrusts his sword forward. Reinhart tries to dodge him by sidestepping, but Siegfried’s sword catches his arm, cutting through his sleeve. Reinhart cries out, holding his arm close to his body. When he pulls back his hand, his fingers are coated in red.
“Good work!” he hears his father clapping. Siegfried lowers his sword and pulls his eyes away. “Good work, Reinhart.”
His father walks past him, meeting Marius as he reaches Reinhart. A pained smile lights up his face. But this isn’t right. He is the one who won. Shouldn’t his father be looking at him?
Siegfried opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out, already hearing his father in his head. What does this mean? His father would want him to figure it out by himself, but all he wants is guidance.
Siegfried recognizes the expression on his father’s face. A rare, proud expression. But when it’s directed away from him, all he feels is shame.
They share a bedroom in the north tower. A circular room with three evenly spaced out beds.
“Marius.” Siegfried approaches the door to the room ajar. “It’s bleeding again.”
“You move around too much.” quick footsteps across the stone floor, then Siegfried hears what sounds like jumping on the bed. “Don’t dirty your hands. Let me do it.”
He hears the sound of tearing, of Reinhart hissing and scissors cutting.
“It hurts.” Reinhart says. “Will my arm fall off?”
“Cuts hurt.” Marius tells him. “But it won’t fall off.”
“...are you sure?”
When Siegfried enters, the two turn to look at him.
“What is it?” he asks them.
“Nothing.” Marius says quickly. Reinhart looks down.
“Blow out your candle. I want to sleep.”
“Yes…” Siegfried gets into his bed and pulls his covers over his head. Though he keeps his eyes open, waiting for the glowing light to disappear.
“Can I stay here, brother?” he hears Marius asking. Siegfried squeezes his eyes shut.