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“It’s been a long time, boar.”
Felix chuckled as he shrugged his cape off of his shoulders, letting it drop to the ground. His steps were even and measured as he unsheathed the blade at his belt, spinning it in his hand to loosen his wrist. Standing ready a few feet away, Dimitri let out a rumbling growl, his single eye narrowing as he watched Felix strut. His hands both gripped tightly the lance in his hand as he assumed a ready stance, but he was still frowning.
“Not long enough, as far as I’m concerned,” he responded, and Felix let out a barking laugh.
“What, are you worried you’ve gotten rusty? Don’t want to fight me? It’s too late to back out of this, now. It’ll wound your honor to step away without me giving you your due,” he challenged, but Dimitri said nothing, simply widening his stance and watching for his angle. Despite Felix’s lackadaisical approach to the beginning of the bout, Dimitri was more than aware that the swordsman was already prepared for any move that Dimitri might make. Felix was always on guard – Dimitri didn’t let the way he had relaxed with his sword resting on his shoulder fool him.
“Hah, quieter than I remember, boar,” Felix goaded, and Dimitri growled again.
“You’re nervous,” he accused. “You’re not one for mind games, Felix. Cut the talk. Let’s fight. You were the one that wanted this,” Dimitri reminded, and Felix huffed, his expression sinking to an all-too-familiar glare. He ceased his pacing and angled himself towards Dimitri, sword held in one hand. Dimitri didn’t have to look for long to see that Felix’s fingers were shaking. Ah. So he had hit the nail directly on the head.
“That’s not how you hold a sword,” Dimitri said, and Felix bared his teeth.
“I know that!” he snarled. “I was just testing you!” He brought his other hand to the hilt of the blade and squeezed – Dimitri saw it happening before Felix did. The training sword broke in Felix’s hands and Felix let out a hissed curse as he tossed the useless blade to the ground. He stormed over to the training rack and perused the selection there as though he were taking time to pick the perfect blade. Dimitri knew better. He knew that Felix could pick a perfectly balanced sword at just a glance and that there was no reason for such deliberation. Felix was really just waiting for the glow of the Crest of Blaiddyd to fade from his hand.
Dimitri let him keep up his act, though, staying as unmoving and patient as a statue as he waited for his sparring partner to return. At length, Felix picked a second sword and came back to square off against him, breathing consciously as he stepped up to Dimitri again. He took up the same ridiculous stance as he had the first time, leaving his front completely open and vulnerable. Dimitri sighed through his nose but didn’t comment on it.
“Ready,” Felix said instead, and Dimitri lunged. It happened again, in slow motion. Felix immediately stepped out of the open, taunting position and grabbed the sword with both hands on instinct, falling back into the old routines that training and battle had pounded into him. They had worked for him for years, after all, why fix what wasn’t broken?
Oh, but that was the exact problem, here. Felix held tight to his sword and raised it to block Dimitri’s swipe, but the hilt once again broke in Felix’s hand and the blade provided no resistance to Dimitri as he bonked the haft of his lance off of Felix’s forehead. Felix stumbled back, grumbling, and despite knowing that this wasn’t what their match was about Dimitri couldn’t help but feel a small surge of pride. He was getting better at restraint.
His restraint, though, wasn’t what they were practicing here. This match definitely wasn’t for Dimitri’s sake and he had realized that as soon as Felix had challenged him. They’d spoken at length over dinner last night about how much of the Monastery’s funding was going to replacing the weapons Felix kept breaking with his fervent training. Having the Crest of Blaiddyd was not an easy thing to get used to, Dimitri’d had it his whole life and only now at twenty-two was he starting to learn how to properly control his power. Felix had only borne this Crest for a little under a year. Dimitri couldn’t imagine the frustration his old friend was feeling as he wrestled to regain control and relearn his own strength.
Wait, no, he took that back. Dimitri could imagine Felix’s frustration very clearly as it manifested with Felix chucking the broken sword at Dimitri’s face. The former prince had to move quickly to block the blade as it sailed towards him and he thought he might take another stab at Felix in retaliation but the other was already stalking back over to the weapon rack to get another sword. It’d be dishonorable to attack a disarmed man with his back to him so Dimitri refrained, instead just casting a helpless sort of look over towards the table at the sidelines where Byleth and Claude sat drinking tea. Dimitri should have known his husband would be no help at all but he still fixed Claude with a glare as he clapped and cheered for him.
“Kick his ass, Dimitri!” Claude called, and Dimitri looked completely nonplussed by the encouragement. At least it seemed like Felix was in the same boat, glaring from the corner of his eyes at his wife when Byleth whooped for him.
“Don’t take that, Felix! Come on, win for me, my love!” she said, and Felix groaned as he flushed red and picked up another blade.
“Worst sparring match of my life,” Dimitri heard Felix mutter as he came back towards him and Dimitri huffed in solidarity.
“It’s not too late to call it quits on this,” he offered, even though he already knew Felix’s answer. Felix always finished what he started, never surrendering until he fought his opponent at least to a draw and usually claiming victory over them, instead. Even if Felix was having a bad time Dimitri knew he wasn’t just going to throw in the towel, and besides, quitting now wouldn’t help solve anything. Felix was trying to get back up on the horse and Dimitri was doing his best to help him. They couldn’t stop now before they’d accomplished anything.
So he wasn’t surprised when he saw Felix shake his head. “And have to listen to the two of them whine at us for the rest of the day about what a disappointment this was? No, thank you,” he said. Dimitri nodded and got ready again, taking up a more defensive stance now.
“Why don’t you come at me this round?” he suggested, and Felix quirked a silver brow. “Test your strength against mine. It is harder to control in split-second reactions. Think about what you are doing and come at me,” Dimitri said, and Felix frowned. The other man’s reflexes had always been superior to almost everyone else’s, Dimitri knew that. Telling Felix not to count on them was probably disheartening, so Dimitri quickly amended. “You’ll get there. One step at a time,” he encouraged. “Now, come at me.”
Felix hissed out a breath but nodded. He managed, at least, to get both hands on the hilt without breaking the sword this time, but he swung it forward with such force that it cracked on the way down. Dimitri’s block snapped it the rest of the way and again Felix was left with just the hilt in his hands as the momentum of his swing took the blade sailing far off behind Dimitri’s head to embed itself in a stone wall. Felix’s eyes went wide as he saw the damage and Dimitri turned to look with a quirked brow.
“…huh,” Dimitri murmured, watching little bits of the wall crumble down towards the ground. “It’s been a few years since I’ve seen something like that,” he commented, and Felix groaned again.
“This is hopeless,” he said, scowling at his hands. “How the hell did you ever cope with this?” he asked, and Dimitri hummed. It was a shame he wasn’t as eloquent as Claude was. He lacked the words to describe his struggle with his Crest and he felt bad about that because if anyone deserved to hear about it, it was Felix, now saddled with the same burden as Dimitri.
“…carefully,” he finally answered at length, but that didn’t seem to please Felix at all. Dimitri looked down at him. “Restraint is… still not easy for me. I am still learning, too,” he said. “You’ve always had better control than I have, though. You’ll get it, I am confident in that,” he said, and Felix sighed.
“I’ll get another sword,” he muttered, heading back towards the weapons rack, but Dimitri was suddenly struck with inspiration from out of the blue. Turning back to Felix, he grabbed his shoulder.
“What if you don’t?” he posited, and Felix growled and shook him off.
“I already told you, boar, I’m not giving up on this just yet,” he responded, but Dimitri shook his head.
“I mean, I think we should fight hand-to-hand,” he explained. “No weapons. Just… fists.”
“Yes!” Claude declared from the sidelines, throwing his arms in the air with an exuberant grin on his features. “Hand-to-hand! Hand-to-hand!” he cheered, and Dimitri really tried his best to ignore him even if he could feel his cheeks heating up. He knew that Claude found his strength attractive but sparring was serious business. At least it was when you were going against Felix. Dimitri didn’t concern himself with whatever Claude might get out of watching the wrestling match. Claude was not his focus right now.
It took Felix a moment to move, but when he did he turned to look at Dimitri in surprise. “You… want me to… brawl with you?” He dragged out the words in disbelief. Dimitri nodded earnestly. Why was Felix looking at him like it was a bad idea? Dimitri thought it was a pretty good one. They wouldn’t have to worry about breaking anything and Felix could finally get the measure of his own strength – Dimitri knew he’d been sparring with Byleth but he highly doubted that Felix had used the full power of his new Crest against her. Dimitri really didn’t think that Felix would show the same restraint against him.
“Why not?” Dimitri asked. “It’ll let you match your strength against mine on even footing. And don’t deny yourself, I know you’ve been dying to punch me for years,” he said, and that yanked a sharp laugh from Felix that even he looked surprised to hear.
“That self-aware now, are you?” Felix asked, and Dimitri shrugged one shoulder – that was a move he’d picked up from Claude, at some point.
“Am I wrong?” Dimitri returned. Felix shook his head, a wry sort of smirk appearing on his features.
“You’re sure about this?” he asked once again. “I know you never trained in brawling at the Academy. Too fast and loose for your princely appetite,” he taunted. “You know I did. I’ve got some moves under my belt, boar,” Felix said, taking a grappler’s stance. Dimitri, dropping his lance, mimicked him as best he could.
“Good,” he said. “Don’t hold back. I haven’t wrestled with another Crest of Blaiddyd since my father died. I’m eager to revisit the memory,” he hummed. “Come at me with everything, Felix. You won’t break me,” he encouraged, and he saw something wild enter Felix’s gaze that he recognized all too well. The brute that dwelled in both of them was using Felix’s face to give Dimitri a manic smile. That was all right, Dimitri decided. Felix had control, far better control than Dimitri himself did. Sometimes, though, the beast had to come out of them. Why not use each other for that purpose? A low growl rumbled in Dimitri’s throat again as he and Felix began to circle one another.
----
“I think they needed this, don’t you?” Byleth asked Claude as the two of them sat there, watching Felix and Dimitri roll across the ground beating each other senseless. “So much unresolved tension between the two of them can’t be healthy,” she remarked. Claude hummed his agreement as he sipped at his tea, eyes on the fight. He heard Dimitri let out a yell as Felix grabbed his hair and yanked, and Felix screeched back, twice as loud. Claude snorted at the sight and his tea almost went straight up his nose.
“Is your husband trying to assert dominance over mine by screaming louder than him?” Claude asked, amused. Byleth just chuckled.
“Like a couple of lions,” she said. “It’s a roaring match as much as a wrestling match, you know.” Claude chuckled and shook his head.
“Bet you’re glad that you signed up to teach the Golden Deer all those years ago, aren’t you? We were so much less trouble than this,” he said with a wink, and Byleth smiled.
“Oh, I don’t know. You were certainly a handful in your own right,” she mentioned. She motioned to Felix and Dimitri again. “Besides, just look – I ended up with them, anyways.”
“You and me both,” Claude agreed. “They sure are lucky to have us, aren’t they?” he asked, and Byleth laughed and nodded.
“Oh, indeed. And I’m sure they both know it, too,” she said. Their conversation was briefly interrupted at that point as they both had to lean apart to make room for Felix’s body to fly in between them, knocking the tea tray off the table to shatter on the ground after Dimitri had thrown Felix across the field. Felix picked himself up with a growl and vaulted back over the table to get back into the fight.
“You’ll pay for that, boar!” he roared, and Claude chuckled again.
“I suppose it’s only fair that we do,” he said, clarifying when Byleth looked over at him with a quirked brow. “You know. Pay for the damages. I’m quite certain that there will be at least a few things needing repair after the two of them are done here. I’ll cover the expenses,” he said. Byleth grinned and tipped her head to him.
“Oh, how generous of you, Prince Khalid,” she said, though she dropped the formal air almost instantly as she shook her head and chuckled. “But that won’t be necessary. Seeing Felix this happy makes it all worth it,” she insisted.
Claude quirked his brow and slowly turned his gaze back over to the match, where Felix had managed to get Dimitri into a full-Nelson and was screaming at him to surrender. “…this is happy Felix?” he asked, and Byleth laughed and nodded but didn’t explain any further. She didn’t really need to – Claude knew exactly what she meant, and he agreed with her. These two had needed this. After what they’d gone through in Shambhala, both Dimitri and Felix needed to get comfortable in their own skin again and the two of them had been fighting like this since they were children. Maybe it looked brutal but for the two of them, this was nothing more than an ordinary afternoon, wasn’t it?
“Oh, I think Felix is going to win!” Byleth chirped, sitting up straighter. Claude watched as Dimitri growled and squirmed but couldn’t break Felix’s pin. Ultimately, Dimitri tapped out, smacking the ground twice and accepting defeat. Felix rolled off of him with a beaming, triumphant grin. The pair of them stayed flopped in the dirt, panting, and Byleth smiled at Claude once more. “Shall we collect our idiots?” she asked, and Claude laughed.
“Probably. We at least ought to make sure neither of them has broken anything,” he responded. Byleth nodded and stood, making her way over to the sparring grounds and kneeling beside Felix to give him a once-over as Claude went to his knees by Dimitri, patting him on the back and leaning close to his ear.
“You let him win, right?” he asked, and Dimitri peeked up at Claude.
“…I know that you are teasing, but I honestly can’t remember the last ten minutes,” was the response that finally came from Dimitri’s lips, and Claude couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oh, my darling,” he said. “It’s been too long since you’ve been able to cut loose for fun and without rage clouding your mind. It was a delight to watch you at full strength,” he assured, making room beside him as Dimitri sat up and slowly blinked out of battle-trance.
“Felix… he isn’t hurt, is he?” Dimitri asked, but Claude shook his head, motioning to where Felix was already on his feet with Byleth standing nearby, heaping praise on him. Felix looked flustered and flummoxed by her attention but Claude could tell that he was loving every second of it all the same. And barely a bruise on him, too – there had been plenty only a moment ago but having a healer with the power of a Goddess as your wife surely had its upsides.
“He’s fine, Dima. You showed great restraint,” Claude praised, and he saw Dimitri puff himself up a little bit with pride. Leaning forward, Claude kissed his cheek before looking over to Byleth. “How about some of that healing for my lion, Teach?” he requested, and Byleth complied with a smile. A brush of her fingers had Dimitri’s bruises disappearing all at once and Dimitri finally got to his feet, Claude rising to stand at his side. Felix was still glowing in the wake of his victory, arms crossed as he shot Dimitri a half-smile.
“We should do that again sometime, boar,” Felix said. “That was a useful match,” he remarked, and Dimitri nodded even though he was still blinking around like he had just woken up from a deep sleep.
“Yes… let’s,” he said. “I… must improve my technique.”
“You and I both have work to do, then,” Felix said. “Next time the two of you visit us from Almyra, I’ll be ready. You had better be, too, boar. I expect more of a challenge next time.”
Dimitri dipped his head to Felix. “And you shall have one,” he assured. “You need not hold back against me, Felix. I’ll make sure to give you a fight you can meet with your full power,” he said. Those words earned Dimitri a rare smile from Felix as the swordsman nodded.
“Good,” he said. “Don’t keep me waiting.”