Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The academy stood brightly, prestigiously known for bringing up the young knights and kingdom’s cavalry for years. As Michael stood at the gates of the school, he had to admit he felt a bit out of place. He took a breath and rubbed at his forearm, the makeshift leather armor beginning to chafe his skin. He adjusted his bag nervously before entering. It wasn’t like he got into the prestigious academy entirely honestly, though it was hard to do anything honestly when your very name struck fear into the hearts of your peers.

Michael was, unfortunately, the son of the infamous William Afton, the dark wizard that had been exiled years prior. Despite his father, he dreamed of becoming a knight since he was young, he had no care for the monarchy, but was born with a desire to protect those he had cared for, despite his failures in the past. He shook off the memories of the past as he shuffled through the courtyard, other young men could be seen joking with each other or boasting their skills, but his eye had caught on the older man monitoring the students.

He recognized him immediately as Sir Henry, the famed knight that had run the school, he was known for driving evil from the kingdom time and time again, everything from dragons to demons, he had even been the one to originally defeat Michael's own father. Being in his presence was nerve wracking to the young lad, what if he recognized him and turned him away? His mind was swimming with panicked thoughts, yet he pushed through and made his way to the well renowned knight. He faced Sir Henry, taking a breath before he spoke.

“Hi, I’m Michael Schmidt, I applied via letter,” he shifted his feet anxiously, praying he wasn’t turned away.

The knight looked down at him and smiled before extending a hand to the young lad, “Welcome michael! Orientation begins in a few minutes, feel free to explore the courtyard until then.”

Michael took the knight’s hand, shaking it firmly as he spoke, nodding at the end before walking to a less populated area of the courtyard to process as Sir Henry turned to speak with a supposed teacher.

He hadn’t been turned away, he was in the school, he could actually do this. He was flooded with excitement and anxiety simultaneously, trying to keep his breathing steady to hide his nervousness from any onlookers.

He took a seat on the ground and leaned back against the front wall, eyes scanning the crowds of his peers, indulging in his bad habit of people watching, when someone caught his eye.

He looked close in age to Michael, golden locks framing his freckled face, but what caught his attention most were the young man’s piercing green eyes shimmering in the early morning rays. Michael studied the man, there was something different about him, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. There was something that drew him to the man, he held an air of charisma that was inexplicably strong, like an invisible force drawing his gaze to him no matter the surroundings.

The man shone like gold, sunlight reflecting off his face as he turned Michael’s.

Wait, shit.

Michael quickly averted his gaze. He had seen him, he had to, there was no way he didn’t.

Michael mentally cursed himself for staring. He let out a sigh, at least it wasn’t the end of the world. If the man asked him about it, he could simply say he was staring at a bird behind him or something. that would probably work. As he tossed the idea around in his head, he was startled by the loud chimes of the academy’s bell, signaling the start of orientation and his stay at the prestigious school. He quickly stood and made his way through the mass of young boys that crowded their way through the large doors into the building.

The entrance hall was much larger than Michael had expected, it had almost enough room to comfortably fit twice the men that filtered in through the doors. The hall was well lit with rows upon rows of intricately detailed chandeliers, leading to another opening at the end of the hall to access the rest of the academy. The students were ushered into the main room of the building, though difficult with how close everyone seemed to crowd despite the expansive hall.

Michael raised his head and looked around, he couldn’t seem to spot the golden haired boy, as they filtered into the main hall.

It was lined with tables that could host a feast for hundreds, at the back of the hall, stood a single podium, presumably for announcements, and above it on the wall hung two swords crossed, with a painted ribbon that read a phrase michael could only read if he squinted and really focus, though it seemed to read ‘Virtute et armis’, Michael had never really studied Latin, but he could probably find a book in the library to translate the phrase.

In his effort to decipher the vaguely blurry text, he failed to notice the golden haired man from earlier approaching him. He jumped as he heard the man’s voice beside him.

“Hey there,” his voice rang out like music, like he was the only one ever made to talk.

Michael threw out a simple, “Oh, hello,” still a bit rattled from the sudden conversation.

“you’re one of the new ones, aren’t you?” the man half questioned, his eyes shone with a playfulness that matched his smile.

“Um, yes I-“

“I am too, the name’s Jeremy,” he smiled cheekily and extended his hand before Michael could get out another syllable.

He grasped the other man’s hand and gently shook it, replying with a simple, “Michael.” He was about to speak again before the familiar voice of Sir Henry filled the hall.

“All students please line up,” his voice seemed to command respect all on its own, as a slight jitter ran through everyone in the hall beside him. Michael and Jeremy were quick to shuffle into line as they waited for whatever came next.

Sir Henry’s voice came again, “Now as customary, I am to give the beginning of the year speech,” he cleared his throat, “Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed knights, and honorable newcomers, I stand before you today as the dawn of a new year illuminates our revered Knight Academy. With hearts filled with pride and a spirit ablaze with purpose, we gather to welcome the fresh faces that grace our hallowed halls. It is an honor to witness the birth of new dreams and the forging of noble paths. In this realm of valor and virtue..”

Michael had begun to tune him out, he had begun to notice Jeremy sneaking glances at him. Soon their eyes met, and Jeremy smiled, a genuine one, with just enough warmth, Michael returned one to him, feeling the beginnings of what may have been a friendship. They kept glancing at each other throughout the speech, stiffening their bodies and turning their gazes forward whenever Sir Henry had paced their way.

“With that, I bid you all a resolute and courageous beginning to your knightly journey. May your spirits be unyielding, your swords swift, and your hearts ever steadfast in the pursuit of righteousness. Together, let us inscribe our names upon the annals of valor and etch our stories upon the tapestry of history. Welcome, brave souls, to the Knight Academy. May your quest be blessed with honor, courage, and the strength to face the challenges that lie ahead.” Michael had tuned back in just as the speech was coming to an end.

Sir Henry then went on assigning dorms to each student. Soon after Michael had gotten his slip, he was able to make his way to where he’d be staying. He made his way to the dorm he’d be sharing with another.

He opened the door to find the room empty save for two beds on either side of the room, with dressers to match. Michael plopped his bag next to one of them before he himself dropped onto the bed. Even just sitting on it he could tell it was quite comfortable, it had been a long while since he had felt comfortable in bed.

He heard the door click open and turned his head, only to be met with golden haired Jeremy, ethereal as ever.

“Hello again,” Jeremy greeted with a smile, dropping his belongings by the other bed and sitting across from Michael as the aforementioned gave a small wave. Jeremy rested his arms on his thighs and let out a heavy breath before speaking, “Since we’re going to be sharing a room, we might as well make a bit of small talk,” he smiled, “How are you, Michael?”

Michael thought for a moment, “I’m not sure, excited I guess? A bit nervous, you?”

“Oh I’m ecstatic,” he let out another breath, “I’ve been preparing for this almost my entire life.”

“Oh, wow,” Michael added pointlessly, wanting to add to the conversation without letting on to his bit of jealousy at the fact that Jeremy was able to have pre training.

There was a noticeable beat.

“Where are you from anyway?” The question sent a noticeable shiver down Michael's spine.

“Why do you want to know?” He formulated it so he would still sound somewhat confident.

“Because you’re interesting to me, besides I’ve never seen you in town before,” the words rolled off his tongue so naturally that Michael almost forgot his secret was in danger.

“How do you know I wasn’t just a recluse prior?”

“Not a chance,” his words exuded smugness.

“Well, where are you from?” Michael threw out in an attempt to change the subject.

“The heart of the kingdom”

“The castle?”

“Of course, I am the prince after all,” how could he speak about these things so casually? Michael stared at him in disbelief, as the man’s strange mannerisms began to make sense.

“Why are you here then? Shouldn’t you be doing, I don’t know, princely things?” He shrugged his shoulders as he spoke.

“That’s exactly why I’m here, is it not the duty of a prince to protect his people? And what of a king who hides while his kingdom is in danger?”

Michael stared at him, a smile pricking at the corners of his mouth, “do you always talk like a poet?”

“Only if thou will enjoy it,” Jeremy said with a giggle and a smirk. Michael admired his sense of humor as he laughed along with him, the sound of Jeremy’s laugh was like the sweetest song played by the most skilled harp player in all the land.

They continued to exchange small talk, bringing up this or that, simply enjoying each other’s company. They had spoken for so long they had almost missed their tour. They had both rushed to get back to the main hall in time for the tour, you really don’t know how fast you can run until you’re being chided by your superior if you don’t make it in time.

They did make it, still continuing to whisper little comments and jokes to each other during the tour. Once the tour had concluded and they had received their training schedules they were able to make their way back to their shared dorm a few hours before dinner.

They had goofed off till then, both pretending to battle each other with the wooden swords they were provided for training and just resorting to fill the time with poorly written jokes that still managed to get a laugh out of them.

Despite only meeting that day, they had managed to already form a strong, unyielding bond, one that would carry them both throughout the passing years.

They just didn’t know it yet.

Chapter Text

The sun’s golden rays filtered through the window, making their way into the young man’s eyes, much to his dismay. Michael groggily opened his eyes, glaring across the room at the face of his roommate resting peacefully, his features moving ever so slightly with each gentle breath that left him. Michael let out a sigh and rolled himself onto his back, before slowly sitting up, rubbing his eyes, and willing himself to be awake. He let out a yawn, stretching out his limbs. He blindly felt his hands around his dresser top, searching for his schedule.

It was only three weeks into his sixth year and hadn’t yet memorized his new classes. His fingertips grazed against parchment, grasping at the schedule the moment after. He brought it close to his face and glared, his eyes still adjusting to the light flooding into the room. He waited a few moments before he was able to read his morning class for the quarter. As his eyes took in the words on the page, he let out a heavy sigh and brought his hand to his face. He had quintain practice, and while not the worst class by far, it still was a pain to both steer a horse and a lance, all while not getting smacked off your horse, less than a winter’s hour after waking. At the very least, he was grateful that breakfast was served before any classes. He’d need it.

He glanced over at Jeremy again, who was slowly waking up himself, stretching out like a cat and grumbling something about it being too early. Michael chuckled to himself, as this was how Jeremy woke every morning. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, grimacing at the sudden stroke of ice cold wood across his bare flesh. He reached over and dug through his bedside drawers for his gambeson, seeing Jeremy reach blindly for his own schedule out of the corner of his eye, his face pressed into the pillows to keep the light from reaching his eyes for as long as possible. Once he had found the page, Jeremy lifted his head just enough to slide the paper onto his pillow to read, dropping his head back into the pillow after he did so.

“What’s your first class again?” Michael spoke, not looking up from his gambeson as he tightened the front straps. Jeremy turned only his head to face Michael, still refusing to leave the bed for as long as he could.

“Latin,” he blinked vaguely in Michael’s general direction, eyes only now adjusting to the light. Michael scowled at that.

“The gods are truly against me,” he spat out dramatically, throwing his arms up and falling back for emphasis.

Jeremy snickered, “Why? What’d you get?” he turned his body to face him.

“Fucking quintain practice,” Michael sighed exasperatedly.

Jeremy pushed himself onto his back, letting out a short bit of laughter before chuckling out, “How horrible for you,” rolling his eyes as he spoke. Michael sat back up.

“You ever considered that you’re a real prick,” he paused for a moment, “At least I won’t have to hear sir Fletcher lecture on and on first thing,” smugness rolling off his tongue like honey. Jeremy finally sat up and crossed his legs, turning to gently smile at Michael in a way far more menacing than he’d expected.

“At least I won’t have to worry about being knocked off a moving steed,” he spoke softly, passive aggressiveness oozing out of every syllable. Michael sighed, there was no way he could win their daily battle of wits, instead giving up and continuing to dress himself. He glanced out the window into the back courtyard, starting to panic when he realized people were beginning to make their way outside.

He haphazardly grabbed his leather arm guards and began to hurry out of the room, throwing out, “Shit, I have to go.” Michael raced his way through the academy, only taking rest at the main hall to quickly grab a small bread roll and a chunk of cheese from where breakfast was served. He scarfed down both items as he swiftly made his way to the back courtyard where the training equipment was kept.

He grabbed one of the lances as he passed through the back doors, using his other hand to wipe any crumbs from his face that May have lingered. Michael began walking toward the stables as his eyes fell upon Sir Henry and a young woman tending to one of the horses, and he’d be damned if he hadn’t recognized her.

The young woman was none other than one Charlotte Emily, one of the academy’s top performers in every task and the daughter of the famed Sir Henry. And while he had considered her a friend, she did frighten him a bit. Her case wasn’t really helped by how scarily good she was at everything, especially for someone a year below him. She could realistically snap him like a twig. He brushed off his slight fear of his friend and passed the both of them to guide his own horse out of one of the stalls, vaguely aware of more and more of his peers filtering outside for morning practice.

As class began, Michael mounted his steed, mentally preparing himself for the pushback from the shield and lance contact. When given the mark, he rode ahead, aiming his lance, and squeezing his eyes shut in anticipation for…. Nothing?

He opened his eyes, sighing at the realization that he missed his Target, turning his horse around to make another attempt. One failed attempt turned into two then three then four, miss after miss beginning to get on his nerves.

He glanced over at Charlie, watching her flawlessly hitting the shield once again. He hated how easy she made it look. He gave it another try, putting his all into it. He rushed forward, aiming his lance and channeling all the determination he could muster. He watched as his lance collided with the shield, the sound of wood clashing against wood rang throughout the air, a sound that brought Michael immense joy for a second, the next second being interrupted by him suddenly finding himself face down in the mud with an awful pain at the back of his head.

Oh right, he had forgotten about the weight on the other end.

Soon the bell’s chime filled the air, signaling the end of the class. Michael rose from his most recent landing spot and wiped the dirt from his face as he led his horse back to the stable.

Just as he thought he was safe, a familiar and much more successful face decided to make her way over. he let out an internal sigh as Charlie approached with an overly friendly smile and wave, he barely got to desaddle the horse before a hand was on his shoulder.

“You did quite well today y’know!” her over cheery voice rang in his ears and made his blood not boil, but simmer just enough to be uncomfortable. usually a compliment like that would lift his spirits just a bit, but one glance at the armor-clad woman revealing not a spec of mud nor a single leaf stuck in her curly hair just made it feel hollow as bone. “I mean you almost didn’t fall off this time. you’ve practically almost got it!” her tacked on backhandness only rubbed salt in the wound.

he barely spared another glance, far from actually turning around instead of just tending to the horse and ignoring his flaws being forced in his face by the mere presence of all that he didn’t have. his voice ran tired with false pleasantries, “I know, I know Charlo-”

“Charlie.” her voice carried the same tone. he could practically hear her unwavering smile.

“Charlie,” he finished, a little more bite slipping into his tone than he meant to. all he wanted to do was get the horse in position for the next group and move on to his next class. but on and on she just seemed to go, taking every bit of worth he’d had gathered that morning.

“You know, if you need any tutoring, I can help. I am tutoring a few other students, but don’t be afraid to ask for some help! I have been doing horseback riding since I was six so it comes a lot easier to me so if you’re a bit confused..”

“I’d rather not,” he interrupted, just wanting her to stop talking directly in his ear. he took a heavy sigh, trying to gather all his words so he didn’t sound any more idiotic than Charlie already thought he was. “Just- I’m fine, alright, if I need help I’ll ask, I need to make it to my other class now though, so I’ll see you at some point later.” he barely got the words out of his mouth before he was already walking backward to try and scurry off. thankfully he managed to flee before she got the chance to give a far longer goodbye than needed that just ended in a new monologue of hers, praying that he in fact did not see her later, though it was unlikely.

he was almost late to his next class, though he managed to make it just in time, thankfully it was a lecture so it would save him from being caked in more of the outdoors for now at least. As soon as he made it to his seat, unfortunately assigned so he simply couldn’t see from his seat, he already felt himself dozing off. the boring voice of the teacher only made it worse, droning into a blur of mindless noise as he was left more inside his own head than in reality. his next few classes had honestly flown by, leaving him more and more exhausted with each one.

By the time his fourth class had ended, Michael was starving. He dragged himself from the lecture hall to the main hall, eyeing the cod being served as he entered. He had grown up by the fishing ports, often eating cod throughout his childhood. He was thankful for the familiar meal after his rough morning.

He grabbed one of the wooden dishes, serving himself a decently portioned piece of the fish before making his way to the lengthy tables, spotting Jeremy on his way over. Michael plopped down next to Jeremy, setting his plate on the table in front of him with a clack. He picked at the firm chunk of cod before him as Jeremy eyed the dirt left in his hair.

“Did you-”

“Shut it.”

the freckle faced bastard only gave a stupid grin, letting out a small snicker at Michael’s poor misfortune and sorrows. he wondered sometimes why they were even friends.

“Am I not allowed to ask questions now?” Jeremy’s words flowed like poison laced honey, smooth and innocent with the ever present edge behind them. it was obvious he knew what he was doing, Jeremy always seemed to know everything. it was a miracle Michael ever managed to keep things from that nosy pest of a man.

“Not if I already know what you’re going to say, then there’s just no point in saying it at all.” the muddy man took a hearty bite of his now half cold fish before glaring down at it. it was far better in stews than by itself. traitorous cod deceiving him into thinking he’d actually get a decent meal after his day.

“Oh alright your majesty, ruler of all questions,” Jeremy chuckled with an eye roll and that winning smile of his, no one could ever be immune to his charm. once again, Michael was glad that they were friends, how could they ever not be?

the rest of the day could not go slower. Michael was barely alive by the end of it, armor and face caked in mud, sweat, and probably tears. the moment he got to his room, he shed his armor and gambeson, tossing himself back onto his bed while picking stray leaves from his hair. his beloved and beloathed roommate followed not long after, instantly noting his tired form on the bed, dirt streaked cheeks covered by arms heavy as sacks of rocks.

“You should go bathe,” a far too aristocratic voice came out, Michael could practically feel the glare on him, “There should be a basin of water already in the privy” The steps across the hardwood flooring clanking with the same grace Jeremy had in everything seemingly.

“I’ll wash off in the river tomorrow, I'm exhausted,” his voice had a slight croak from his heavy breath all throughout the day. he didn’t bother to move his arms from his eyes, quite enjoying the dark retreat from the lantern that lit the room.

“God, you’re disgusting!”

“And you’re annoying.”

the familiar snicker reminded him he hadn’t gone too far. he finally decided to show his face to the world once more, hoisting himself into a somewhat sitting position to observe whatever Jeremy was doing. he only saw the swish of a book, accompanied by the thwack of leather against wood as the lights went out. there was confusion for a moment before..

“Did you really leave the lantern open?” Jeremy’s accusatory voice rang out in annoyance, the lantern had been blown out by the force of Jeremy slamming the book onto his dresser. of course.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the one who left it open,” Michael deadpanned back, already accepting their early bedtime from the accident.

“Just- never mind, have you seen the bit of steel to light it? I think I might have some kindling around here.” a shuffling noise followed.

“It got confiscated, remember, we got in trouble for-”

“Having a small fire on grounds and spooking the horses, how could I forget?” Jeremy finished tiredly. the prince would never get his night reading in at this rate.

there was a bit of shuffling as a tired voice muttered, “Wait, hold on,” Michael making his way over to where Jeremy and the lantern both were. there was a spark, then Michael was holding the now lit lantern, notably empty handed beside it. he handed it over to Jeremy, yawning a bit as he did, “There, you can read your book now, don’t blow it out again.”

Jeremy gave him a once over as he took and set down the lantern, more suspicious now than ever. he took a step forward, Michael taking a step back in turn. “How’d you light it?” his golden brows furrowed, almost like he were trying to read the answer straight out of Michael’s head.

“I found a spare piece of steel,” spoke the ever empty handed man.

“No you didn’t.”