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Their first duel was an interhouses exercise on the training grounds of the academy. They were both given wooden, training spears, weapons they were both equally terrible with.
Glenn was so used to carrying a shield that he forgot to guard his side properly, while Holst was familiar with the heavy weight of a battle axe and put so much strength in each of his thrusts that he would unbalance himself. When the point of the exercise had been to get to know students from other houses and forge bonds of friendship and camaraderie through shared hardship and struggles, the result for both Glenn and Holst had been that their awkward waddling made them terribly ashamed of themselves and they grew to resent each other for the public humiliation.
For months they refused to approach each other, train together or get close in any way, Glenn shooting sour looks to Holst and Holst making faces at Glenn.
🌹🌕
Their second spar was during the mock battle of the eagle and lion.
They had stayed away from each other for as long as possible, sharing one look and going opposite directions. However, the field was now empty save for the both of them, their comrades cheering them on from the sidelines while the black eagle house volunteered to help with injuries, having little interest in the result of the battle after their elimination.
The warriors circled each other for a little while, taking their time to catch their breath and assess the competition. Glenn carried a sword and shield, and had used them wisely. Besides a couple of superficial cuts, he was unharmed. Holst on the other hand had used brute force to quickly dispatch anyone in his path. He sported several injuries, including a twisted ankle that gave him a clear disadvantage, but he was also less tired than Glenn. None of them was proficient enough at magic to have it change anything to the equation, be it attack spells or healing white magic. Holst had downed a healing potion at the first occasion and his careful treading was also part of a strategy to gain time for his ankle to sort itself out, which Glenn had not missed.
Which is why Glenn charged first. His sword met the iron shaft of the battle axe with enough strength to send tremors in his bones, but Holst did not lose his balance and instead countered with the butt of his weapon. A strange dance started between the two warriors, attack, parry, counter, stepping towards and away from each other, their full attention locked on their opponent, forgetting about anything else. They were deaf to the cheers and cries of their classmates, blind to the time going by, existing only in the little arena of their duel.
In the end Holst prevailed. He succeeded in tiring Glenn out, having been refreshed by the potion and having more stamina in general. As Glenn was struggling to keep up with the dance, Holst landed a winding blow on his chest and Glenn fell backwards, finding it impossible to scramble back to his feet.
Holst won the battle of the eagle and lion for the golden deer house, but he also won Glenn's respect that day. And the feeling was mutual.
🌕🌹
Their third duel was private, when the first two had been so public. After the battle of the eagle and lion, Glenn kept an eye on Holst not out of animosity, but rather out of curiosity. His newfound respect for the man sparked questions. What was his training regimen? What were his eating habits? Where did he get all his stamina from? In an attempt to find answers, he followed Holst a little too often, until Holst himself could no longer ignore it and confronted him.
"What do you want?"
Glenn stood his ground, planting his feet firmly.
"I want a rematch."
"What?"
"A rematch."
Holst sighed and messed with his hair, thinking.
"Fine. Tomorrow morning, at 7, alone on the training grounds. Don't be late, I won't wait."
And so the next morning, ten minutes before 7, Glenn stood in the middle of the training grounds, ready. Holst came five minutes later, looking fresh and alert. They were alone, and lost no time in small talk, grabbing their training weapons and saluting before launching right into it.
It was liberating, being able to spar with a respected opponent, focusing on each other and giving it their whole. Almost exhilarating actually. They both lost track of time, lost into the exercise, refusing to give the other an inch of advantage.
This time neither won nor lost, as the bell reminded them that they had class to attend. They shook hands, sore but happy, and went on their way.
🌹🌕
The fourth duel was for show. Both Glenn and Holst had been chosen as class representative to hold a demonstration in front of important people from Adrestia. They were both uneasy about it, less than willing to entertain the nobility, and especially foreign nobility. They also knew they had very little choice in it.
And so they clenched their teeth and let assistants dress them up like circus animals, all clad in tight fitting leather armor. They braided Glenn's long hair and chopped off Holst's wild mane, armed them both with intricate weapons and nudged them to use their crests as often as possible, as if they could control such a thing.
Waiting to be called, they sat awkwardly side by side, and for the first time actually engaged in small talk. Nothing of note, as they both were thinking of something else, but little bits and pieces of information. How they did on the last test, how the winter weather had slowed any communication from Faerghus, how the assistants had refused that Holst wear the bracelet his little sister had made for him.
They thought nothing of it as it happened, but once they were called and faced each other in the arena, Glenn could see nothing but the bracelet that Holst had defiantly fastened on his wrist, and Holst could not concentrate on something else than the ink smudge on Glenn's hand, from writing a letter to his baby brother that would not reach home for another three months.
They managed. They made for a good show, being both skilled yet graceful warriors. Furthermore, it wasn't their first dance together, they were accustomed to each other's movements by now and made use of that to drag the fight, falling into a rhythm. The fight ended when Glenn's crest unexpectedly activated and his shield smashed into Holst's side with the sinister sound of bones breaking. Holst went down and couldn't get back on his feet, his face drained of color as he struggled to breath through his shattered ribs. Glenn felt nauseous, and threw his weapons aside. Before he could muster what little white magic he had to help Holst however, someone ushered him out.
🌕🌹
The fifth was not planned. The examination and certification sessions were soon coming, and both Glenn and Holst worked hard for it, eager to pass and prove their worth. As such, they spent a lot of time on the training grounds.
One day, by the end of the week, when everyone was tired and sore and stressed and generally not in a good mood, Glenn was practicing his thoron spell and Holst was standing at the other end of the grounds, pounding into a classmate with bandaged hands. Glenn's thoron was not directed right, and slammed into Holst's training buddy. Holst jumped and immediately smacked Glenn to the ground.
It was more of a brawl than a real duel, and it was very short lived. Glenn barely defended himself, and Holst quickly stopped and screamed at everyone else to get out, get the injured student to Manuela. The three other students present, scared by the sight of Holst in all his rage, did not argue and quickly vacated as ordered.
They were left alone, Glenn with his back on the training ground sand, arms wrapped protectively over his face, and Holst towering over him, fists curling and uncurling with the painful beats of his heart.
"Get up."
No response.
"GET UP" Holst screamed. He hated himself as the sound boomed and echoed, just as much as he hated his dad whenever he would scream to get what he wanted.
Yet Glenn did not get up. He did uncover his face, and their eyes locked, pink and blue just like the evening sky over their heads. Glenn was crying.
The sight was like a punch in the guts to Holst. He fell to his knees next to him, all rage snuffed out of him as easy as a candle in a draft. Glenn was still looking at him.
"I'm sorry" he said, a tear rolling on his bruised cheek.
Holst did not know how to respond.
"I wasn't aiming at him at all, I didn't mean to hurt anyone."
Holst turned his head away, and thought back to their last duel, to how it had also been an accident, and how sheepish Glenn had looked after, and how he had avoided him in shame, refused to be alone with him, and went out of his way to put distance between them.
"I'm really sorry." Glenn continued.
"Stop."
Holst turned back to him, breathed deeply and cast a healing spell on the idiot at his feet.
"I know you didn't mean it."
🌹🌕
The sixth was to be disputed for years to come. Holst insisted that it did count, while Glenn refused to acknowledge that as a duel.
It was the white heron cup.
Maybe out of habit, maybe out of laziness, or maybe as a revenge, both Glenn and Holst were designated as their class representatives. A girl was chosen to represent the black eagle class.
They all did their best. Glenn was extremely mad about the whole ordeal, and frowned through the entire thing, which seemed to amuse Holst immensely. Holst, on the other hand, had been born to do this. He was graceful, charming, charismatic, he seemed to sparkle under the chandeliers' light, his hair never out of place and movement easy and fluid, his clothes pristine and perfectly fitting on his body where Glenn felt sweaty, had strands of hair in his eyes, and could feel his shirt loose and ride up his belly when he moved.
In the end Manuela voted for the black eagle class representative and they both lost, officially. In Glenn's mind however, it was clear that Holst should have won. In Holst's mind, the whole evening was a victory already, because that had been the most fun he had had in a long time, getting a rise out of Glenn and seeing his cheeks color slightly. For once, he didn't mind losing the actual trophy. His classmates would not be too disappointed, having rather won the battle of the eagle and lion than the silly dance competition, and his family would think the same. For once, he could have honest fun without worrying about the consequences, the missed opportunities, about his reputation and what people would say.
He would think back to this night very often, and it would never fail to bring a smile to his face.
🌕🌹
The seventh time was during a skirmish. The golden deer house had been dispatched for a training mission and found themselves trapped by particularly well organized and well armed bandits, and even with Holst's renowned strength, they didn't seem to make a dent in the defensive line of the bandits. They regrouped and found a position to hold and defend, and a long siege began.
It was to last four days. For four days and four nights, the valiant golden deer house held and pushed back against the bandits, unable to fully fall back to the monastery. They were heroic in their efforts, presenting a perfect united front, an impregnable defense, managing to keep every single one of the students alive.
On the dawn of the fifth day, rescue finally came in the form of the blue lion house students, coming to investigate what had happened to their classmates. The situation was suddenly reversed, and where the bandits had previously surrounded the golden deer house, they were now surrounded themselves. The golden deer student seized the opportunity and rushed forward.
It was a messy battle. Holst's axe, decorated with a crude design of a rose, was dyed crimson, his clothes soaked in mud and blood, his hair and face covered with grime. Glenn came from the opposite side, with lightning in his veins, his eyes glowing, and charged at Holst with no recognition.
"Hey! Glenn, it's me! Holst!"
Holst's arms were tired and his whole body sore, but he had to sidestep Glenn's fury and parry a couple of blows before his words had any effect. Finally, Glenn's eyes widened and he quickly got on the other side of Holst's, covering his retreat with quick successions of thoron that showed just how much stronger he'd grown during the last year.
🌹🌕
The eighth duel was a secret.
Holst had thought back in confusion at the memories of Glenn coming to his rescue, lying awake in his bed for numerous nights. What was it about him that made his heart beat so painfully? Why did he turn suddenly every time he thought he had caught a glimpse of ink blue hair? What was happening to him?
Holst was bothered and decided that there was only one way to sort it out. Certainly he was feeling weird about Glenn because of the rescue, because he had been saved like a damsel in distress. If he could only have a rematch, like old times, measure up and see that they were not so mismatched in power, then everything would go back to normal.
And so Holst wrote a formal invitation to a duel, and slipped it under Glenn's door.
He could not sleep that night either.
Dawn came creeping, ever so slow, while Holst nervously paced on the sand of the training grounds, waiting for Glenn to show up, hoping he would come. And he did. His long hair gathered in a high ponytail, wearing only the shirt of his uniform, pants tucked in riding boots, Glenn came, his back lit by the piercing rays of the rising sun.
"So?"
He crossed his arms and waited. Holst felt his throat dry up faster than a good ale at the pub.
"Spar with me?"
Glenn looked unconvinced, but did not argue. He picked up a spear and gave one to Holst.
Holst looked at the accursed weapon.
Glenn smirked.
"Show me your progress."
Holst didn't know why Glenn had chosen the spear. Although a bit less terrible than a year ago, they were far from proficient with it, and if Glenn had chosen it in the hopes that they would not hurt each other, Holst thought that it was quite the risky bet. At least they were wooden, dull ones.
After a few thrust and parry, Glenn tried to swipe at Holst's feet and the duel became more heated. He was more creative than Holst had ever seen him before, using dance steps to confuse him, alternating between close quarters and distanced attacks, keeping Holst moving and guessing. They might never become excellent with the spear, but Glenn certainly could use one now. Holst held his ground as best he could, using his flexibility to get out of the spear path. Glenn was growing tired, his attacks getting repetitive and his movement more clumsy, until Holst saw an opening and used the move Glenn had tried on him early on, swiping at his feet. He caught him behind a knee and successfully unbalanced him, and Glenn fell on his bum.
He laughed, out of breath.
"After all, you still have more stamina."
🌕🌹
The ninth and last duel was a tradition.
As head of their class, they performed for the graduation ceremony, and as such held a little duel between each head. The head of the black eagle house lost against both of them and sulked in silence for the rest of the day.
Glenn and Holst took their time. Glenn already had his orders for after, he knew where he was supposed to go. Tomorrow, his life would start, and he would take up the duty of shield of Faerghus for the rest of his life, or until he could pass it on to his child, just like his father was passing it on to him. He had been born and raised for that, and yet, it felt like today was the last day of his life. Tomorrow would be duty, today was still Glenn's.
He savored it. The sight of Holst clad in the parade uniform, the velvet fabric hugging his muscles, his perfect smile and glinting eyes as he winked at Glenn. The music as they officially graduated, the speech about upholding peace and common values, the proud faces of his classmates.
Glenn savored every heartbeat.
He lost himself in the duel, letting go of every lesson, every voice in his head that usually pestered him about posture, grip, timing. He lost himself in the rush, smelling Holst's perfume every time they stepped close to each other, rose petals and sandalwood, letting himself move as swiftly as he wanted, even if he would quickly exhaust himself, lightning in every movement, flowing behind Holst when he raised his axe just a bit too high, lightly tapping his side with the flat of his blade. He was too fast for anyone else to notice how easy he went on Holst, and Holst had enough trouble keeping up to even think about saying something. Glenn didn't care. He would not hurt his friend today, he was here for the thrill of the dance, the familiar steps, the challenge.
As bright as he had burned, he quickly died down. Soon Holst could catch his breath, and Glenn's muscles ached and slowed him down. The magic he had used left him with a bone deep hollowness. Holst knew, and decided to go as easy on him as Glenn had, purposefully missing him by a hair, never landing a true hit, until Glenn could barely move and they both stopped.
The arena around them went still and silent, waiting to see the resolution. The logical one would be Holst putting a proper end to the duel by formally defeating Glenn, but instead, he threw his axe on the ground and extended his hand. Glenn followed suit, a bit dazed. They shook hands, and Holst smiled once of his rare, true smiles.
A confused Rhea proclaimed that they were both excellent embodiments of the spirit of the strength in peace.
🌹🌕
There was never a tenth time that Holst and Glenn fought each other.
During their last night at the monastery, as none of the students could sleep, everyone thinking about their future anxiously or excitedly, Glenn slipped a note under Holst's door.
Holst came to the training grounds at 1am, the note carefully folded in his pocket, and found Glenn standing under the moon, his hair bluer than ever, his features softer than ever. The sand crunched under Holst's feet as he walked up to him, and Glenn stood, watching.
"Do you want a last spar?"
Glenn shook his head.
"I had something different in mind."
In the brisk night air, Holst could smell the faint smell of Glenn. Leather and lavender. A strange and soothing mix.
"Then what?"
Glenn blushed, but stood his ground. He always did, after all, no matter the situation, no matter the odds.
"I have wanted to kiss you for months now. Before we part ways forever, would you mind?"
Holst's knees felt weak and his stomach instantly liquefied, but he managed to answer.
"I wouldn't mind."
Glenn moved towards him slowly, and took his hand. His fingers were warm and calloused. He was shorter than Holst, notably so, and looked up to him with mischief in his blue eyes, then pushed up on his tip toes and kissed him.
If Holst had felt weak before, he had now entirely changed from the solid state to the liquid one and would certainly spill all over the sand. His body ceased to exist, concentrated in one point, his mouth, his lips, the places where he could taste Glenn. He hungered for more, more of Glenn, more of the warmth of his mouth, more of the minty taste of his tongue, more of the soft and plush texture of his lips.
Just as he had been the one to initiate, Glenn was the one to end the kiss. It felt like a glass breaking in Holst’s hands, the sudden and jolting feeling of Glenn moving back, away. Holst looked at him, lost, and Glenn smiled, caressing his cheek with fleeting fingers.
"It's time."
Holst looked up at the sky, expecting to find the moon hanging low where he had left it, but was met with the pink and blues of dawn. Immense sadness welled in his chest. Glenn was right. He caught his hand as Glenn retreated and kissed the knuckles softly.
"Goodbye, Glenn."
Glenn gave him a regretful smile back, his blue eyes reflecting the same pain that he felt.
"Farewell."
He turned around and walked out.
Holst tried to follow, but the rising sun made his eyes cry.