forum Blood Oath (O/O CLOSED)

Started February 21, 2019 by Deleted user

tune

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It turned out that we couldn’t train the juniors every day, and the decision was carried out because of my father, the King. We needed to give the juniors some break—one day would be for physical training and the other for mental.

Once I was done with my own magic training, I decided to cool off. Exercise, work on my endurance. I needed to change my own guantlets and shin guards as well.

When I was leaving, however, I heard sounds of weapon slashing in the air. Curious to see who would be training on break, I followed the sound to find my junior, Elliot, working on his rapier skills.

I had to admire his determination. Leaning against the wall, I decided to observe.

The musical sound of metal clashing filled the air as I slashed at the dummy in front of me, skirting around it and attacking from behind. My feet danced, propelling me forward and backwards as I attacked and defended against the sack of straw which was currently to be my opponent.

I’d been told on multiple occasions that I fought like I was performing, like I was dancing, which I’d always found fitting, despite the fact that I’d never taken notice of it. And in a way, wasn’t sword-fighting its own kind of deadly dance? A dangerous, tactical waltz? A smile worked its way onto my lips as my rapier came swishing down again and again, hacking at the wooden frame of the dummy with renewed vigour.

It was, I have to admit, fascinating watching him work with his sword. He seemed light on his feet, as if he was performing. It was as if he was lost in his own world, the rapier and the practice dummy the only thing present. The smile on his face seemed carefree, and I wondered what was it that made him look so free.

”Rapier skills are good, too,” Key commented for me, chewing on the cake he’d stolen for himself.

”Needs to be more light,” I responded curtly. ”Balance needs to be applied. A single misstep would cause him to fall. Perhaps it’s because of the weight I’ve put on him, but he needs to change his style a bit more if he doesn’t want a blade in his throat. He needs to establish a more prominent fighting style, something others won’t be able to decipher without much issues.”

Key didn’t look surprised at my comments. He was used to it.

”Leave it to the young master to have keen eyes~”

Absorbed in the imaginary fight, I focused on keeping my steps nimble, fighting against the gravity that pulled down at my weighted limbs. But finally, when my arms began to burn more than I could bear, I let my rapier drop, chest heaving as soft pants slipped out from between my lips. My arms hung limply at my sides as I turned—only to meet eyes with Colton Miller.

I stepped away from the wall, eyes still locked with Elliot, taking slow steps towards him. He was exhausted, sweat coating his body as he panted heavily.

Once I was face-to-face, I stuffed my hands in my pockets, looking down at him, eyebrow raised, eyes dropping to his blade on the floor and back to his face.

“You need to work more on your form,” I finally said in a rather blank tone. “The way you worked, you could have tripped. A single misstep could have cost you your life. Your form hides no tells. Every mistake you make is out in the open. Before you train your skills, train your form.”

My heart fell, each of his words hitting me like a slap in the face. But I offered him a weak smile in response, nodding slowly. “Noted, thank you.”

I couldn’t let his coldness affect me, cow me, I had to take notes and improve, keep both my morals and my act up.

I could tell my words affected him. I could have softened them, but I didn’t. He needed to hear it. I wasn’t going to sugarcoat what needed to be said.

“Your hands,” I said, looking down at his hands. “Do they hurt?”

Hesitation flickered briefly across my features as I weighed out the beast answer. Lie, and risk being found out, or tell the truth and be told that I was weak. Eventually, I gave a tentative nod, admitting to the affirmative.

“Yes, they do. But I suppose I’ll get used to it eventually.”

I held out my hand expectantly, silently asking him to give me his so I could inspect it. I wasn’t expecting him to work constantly without break. He could have increased the strength of his hands just by wearing these and doing nothing else, but I suppose he was too eager to learn and get better. I needed to make sure there wasn’t any permanent damage done.

I blinked down at his extended hand for a moment before cautiously offering mine, eyes flickering from his fingers to his eyes. Was this a trap? Was he testing how on alert I could be? Was he going to shove me into the ground?

At his hesitancy, I nodded in approval. Taking his hand in mine, I took off the gauntlet, letting it fall to the floor as I looked over his hand.

Without the gauntlet, I could feel his skin. It was soft, but hard due to the gauntlet. And as I suspected, it was red. He’d been working it more than necessary. I pressed on it a little, my eyes flickering to his face for a reaction.

And suddenly, the heir to the throne was holding my hand in both of his. He pressed the pad of his thumb into one of the red areas that had been rubbed raw, and I winced, pain blazing through the path of distressed skin. Upon realizing my mistake, I sent a blank expression crashing down over my face, chasing all emotions away from sight. I couldn’t afford to show weakness, and definitely not in front of him.

I sighed, catching the wince Elliot tried hard to hide. I took his other hand without waiting for him to give it, removing the gauntlet to find the hand in the same condition as the first.

Red, raw and slightly blistered. This was my fault. I shouldn’t have handed these to him in the first place. Even if I wanted him to get better, I could have used other means. I could have told him not to overwork himself, but I didn’t. He was doing this to impress me, no doubt about it, but he was getting himself injured in the process.

“Leave them off,” I finally spoke, gently running my thumb over the rough skin. “Excluding the hours trainers train you for, how long do you continue this?”

I felt a small hiccup in my chest as he took both my hands in his, eyes widening almost imperceptibly. Why was he being this gentle with someone as insignificant to him as me? Why should he care?

Besides that, I was not blind to the slight rush of pleasure that came with his touch. He was attractive, I couldn’t deny it, and the fact that he was holding onto me this gently brought a definite satisfaction. Not that I had a hopeless celebrity crush on him, I wasn’t that pathetic. But what girl disliked having her hands held by the Prince?

“I excercise on my own at least two and a half hours a day,” I admitted eventually. “I’d do more if I wasn’t saving time to study.”

I snapped my eyes towards his face, twisting my expression into disapproval. One hour is enough for someone at his level. Why overwork himself when there were days he had to train all day?

“One hour,” I said flatly. “One hour is enough for individual training. Do not go over this limit again.”

I turned his hand upside down, observing the back before I finally let go, bending down to retrieve the gauntlets I’d so carelessly given him. Sometimes I forgot I was different. I’d worn these ever since I was little. This was his first time. We should have started from normal weightlifting.

“Come,” I motioned to him to follow me. “Your hands need to heal. It would be best to have a healer look at them.”

A deep furrow appeared between my brows. He was…. disappointed that I was training? And here I’d thought that two and a half hours had been too little..

But when he spoke of a healer, I drew back in surprise. “With all due respect, would that be necessary? I have some cream in my room, I could just use that.”

I looked back at him, raising an eyebrow at his reaction.

“It would be better to heal this quickly,” I informed him. “I’m not a healer. I can’t tell if you’ve overworked your hands or not. The healer would determine if there’s anything wrong or not.

After a brief pause, I nodded and assented, suddenly realizing how far down my guard had slipped.

“Alright,” I answered, making to follow after him.

Thankfully, his skin was just a bit bruised. Otherwise, his hands were okay. The bruises were healed in no time, and then Elliot and I were making our way back.

Key, who had been gone from the moment Elliot had noticed me, returned, flapping his wings, shooting me a smirk. I chose to ignore him.

Walking back into the dorm, I turned to Elliot.

“Rest,” I commanded him. “Dinner will be in a few hours. Either study and learn more about the Oath, or relax yourself.”

My eyes, which had been fixed to the bondmate hovering near Colton, snapped back to my trainer. “I will,” I promised him, flexing and curling my newly healed fingers.

A few days later….

"Elliot!" I tilted my face up, grinning at my redheaded roommate, who was currently lounging on one of the many plush sofas in our dormitory. "Truth or dare?" Tapping my lip thoughtfully, I curled my legs beneath me, leaning against the side of the armchair beside me. "Uhh….."

The golden sun beyond the school walls had finally dipped below the horizon, signalling the end of my first Saturday at Rubinem. Outside, the sky was painted in rich swirls of indigo and fading periwinkle, the colours of the dusk that so matched the design of our rooms. Tomorrow, Sunday, would be a free day for everyone, and all though I already had plans to train, I was looking forward to a break from the strict and overflowing schedules that had been handed to me on my first day.

So, naturally, the boys in our dormitory (except for the Prince, who was off doing something important, as usual) had all gathered around the sofas and couches with snack food stolen from who-knows-where, cards, and an impressive mental arsenal of Truth or Dare questions.

"Truth," I finally decided, meanwhile shuffling the cards I held in one hand. My roommate, Andreas, gave me a mischievous grin, which of course made me instantly regret my decision. He leaned in, wiggling his eyebrows comically. "Who was the last person you, er, 'did the do' with?"

I almost choked on a salted cracker.

After a lot of spluttering and uproarious laughter, the boys forced a name (which, of course, had been gender-bent) out of me.

”Again,” I ordered Key, who immediately opened his mouth and let out a whirlpool of fire. It burned hot, and had I not been used to the pain, I would have ended up with blisters from the head. The second he fired, I thrust my hand forward to mix a tornado of wind into the flames.

What we were trying to do was make the flames stronger. The wind inside the fire would act as fuel, thus increasing the intensity of Key’s attack.

For a second, it worked. Then it exploded, flames biting into my skin, causing me to hiss. I didn’t know what I was missing, but whatever it was, I wanted to overcome it. Even if it meant I’d get out of here burnt.

”Cole, we should stop,” Key finally spoke, his breathing heavy, his wings flapping weakly. ”We’re using up a lot of energy.”

Just as he said this, I realized he was right. It wasn’t just him who had trouble keeping himself upright. We’d been practicing since dawn, and it was late in the afternoon. I took a seat on the ground, breathing harshly, wiping the sweat from my forehead. I wasn’t as exhausted as Key, I knew. He’d had to perform much daunting tasks. He used up more of his energy than I did.

”Sorry, Key,” I breathed out. How could I ignore my bondmate like that? ”Come, shrink yourself. There must be something we can eat in our dorm.”

Key responded immediately, shrinking and perching himself on my hair. I stood up, took another deep breath, and walked to the direction of my dorm.

“Who was the last person you, er, ‘did the do’ with?”

I paused, my hand a few inches away from the doorknob. I heard Elliot’s splutters and sighed. Of course.

Turning the handle, I stepped inside, watching as everything fell silent.

All three of our heads turned at the sound of our door swinging open. At the sight of Colton, we all fell silent, laughter fading away. Across from me, Andreas fidgeted awkwardly, tugging at the messy strands of his shockingly ginger hair.

Finally, I dared to speak, calling an inviting smile to my face. "Hello, Colton." It felt so strange to be calling him by his first name, despite the fact that he'd made it clear that his official title was not to be used. He looked exhausted, drenched in sweat, his bondmate perched in his mussed nest of dark hair. "We're just playing some games, since it's an off-day tomorrow. Would you like to join us?"

My eyes swept across the room, landing on each individual before finally resting on Elliot. The other roommates, Andreas and Kaden, a dark skinned boy, cast their eyes down, fiddling, their eyes going anywhere but me.

Games.

“Elliot,” I nodded in his direction, taking steps towards the kitchen, walking over and pouring water for Key who immediately drank till the last drop, falling back-first on the shelf when he was done.

”Join them, Cole,” Key insisted once he refreshed himself. “It’ll be fun.”

I didn’t know what would be fun about playing games and wasting time, but Key wouldn’t take no for an answer. He shot me a stubborn glare rivaling the look I sent in his direction. I sighed, running my fingers through my damp hair.

“All right,” I muttered in a raspy voice. “Key wishes to join you.”

I shared a triumphant smile with Andreas, who had been taken off-guard by both my question and the answer I'd received. He shifted off his spot on the sofa and settled beside me on the floor, offering up the seat to Colton.

"Glad to hear it," I responded, resisting the ever-present urge to call him 'Your Highness', or 'sir', at the very least. My eyes sped to those of his bondmate, widening ever-so-slightly in the awe and admiration that always came hand in hand with the sight of the creatures.

"Have you ever played Truth or Dare before?" Andreas directed the question to them both, voice bordering on timid. "I can explain the rules, if you want."