In the Name of Love!

❄ Soft – ACCEPTING

       Well, Joshua’s eyes had to fall somewhere. They were bored. With their daily training out of the way and no pressing matters to attend to, there was little left to do except sit around, at least until something interesting inevitably happened (which was, of course, a natural consequence of keeping such a strange assortment of people under the same roof).

       For now, they were just staring at whatever happened to catch their eye, and at this moment, that happened to be M’hilo. He was hard not to look at, really, being so bright and lively. Anyone would want to stare at his smile and listen to his laugh. And if his glowing personality was not enough, then surely his good looks were a reasonable excuse to watch him…

       Joshua sat there for several minutes, enthralled as M’hilo told some story to one of the others. They were just out of earshot and couldn’t make out anything but the occasional burst of laughter, but M’hilo’s gestures and expressions were plenty exciting all on their own. Now and then, Joshua smiled in response to some silly face or exaggerated gesture.

       And that was exactly how they got caught. It made no sense that someone sitting alone would happen to just randomly smile in another’s direction unless they were paying attention, which Joshua decidedly was when their eyes met by chance. For a split second, they froze. They were ashamed of getting caught, naturally, but looking away now would not have spared them that embarrassment. Instead, Joshua raised one hand and waved in an attempt to look casual and friendly, though the hint of pink on their cheeks threatened to betray their sheepishness.

❄ Soft – ACCEPTING

       “Again…?”

       Apparently, no amount of shoving their hair up under their hat could keep Joshua’s long, lavender locks from misbehaving. They sighed, leaning closer to M’hilo so that he could do with Joshua’s hair as he wished. Chances were it wouldn’t last long, anyway; one quick turn of the head or one overly exuberant nod, and the hat would surely shift enough that their hair would come free.

       But that was a problem for later. Right now, M’hilo was being nice, and Joshua appreciated the care and attention. They smiled, a rare deviation from their usual cold expression.

   ❝ You think so? They do move all the time— ❞ A show is made of wiggling feline ears, lips curling into a crooked tangent. ❝ — oh well. ❞

   ❝ Oh— I guess you are right? I wonder if I should start counting my height from the tip of my ears… ❞

❄ Left on Read – ACCEPTABLE

DEFAULTS TO MODERN VERSE

@frcstblade​┊✧┊sc.

   It is only after a time of silent observation that the warden makes his presence known, crossing the training grounds with deliberate strides and a mischievous glint in mismatched eyes. ❝ You know, that swordsmanship of yours is impressive— but wouldn’t it be more fun to train with a partner? ❞

       “You’re challenging me?” Joshua couldn’t help but smile. They enjoyed a good fight, and especially one proposed in such an amusing manner. “Well, anyone who can sneak up on me has my respect. I accept your challenge.”

       “Angela…!”

       Without skipping a beat, Joshua scooped Angela up into their arms and twirled around before kissing her on the forehead as they set her down. No amount of ache from travel or their various cuts and bruises could stop them from holding her tight. The two of them were together at last.

       “I’ve missed you as well, my love,” Joshua murmured between kisses as they showered her in affection. “Too long have we been apart. Next time, I promise to come home sooner.”

“Come with me, to Victors Hollow,” Olberic had asked him, late one night, when the other travelers were fast asleep and they’d taken up watch. They’d spoken at length about Olberic’s friends there - Cecily and Ned - and about the tournament that had been the last stepping stone that had brought Olberic to Wellspring all of those long months ago. Olberic enthused about the swordsmen there, all of them a challenge, all of them eager to display their skills and to try for a chance at glory.

It wasn’t necessarily his sort of thing. It might have been ten years ago, when he was eager too, hot-headed and ready to do anything to prove his might. At first, he accepted the invitation if only to accompany Olberic. Spending the better part of ten years without him, Erhardt was not inclined to let him go so soon.

It was Cecily who had convinced him, over a round of drinks on the evening they’d arrived. “Imagine,” she’d said, “The Twin Blades of Hornburg taking the title two years in a row! It would be history, made right here. And I’d represent you, of course.” He’d almost declined. But her speech had woken something in him, some spark of his younger self that couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to compete.

That was how he’d found himself here, among fellow swordsmen, the room buzzing with excitement. As he glanced around at his potential competitors, he caught the eye of a man across the room, striking in appearance, and staring right at him. It was evident that he’d been caught by the way he quickly averted his gaze, and Erhardt chuckled softly to himself, taking the few steps to close the distance between them.

“You need not apologize,” he insisted, with a wave of his hand. “You wouldn’t be the first, nor the last. People look at me as if they’ve seen a ghost, or someone stepping right out of a fairytale.” Most people had thought he was dead. His re-emergence had brought with it a wildfire rush of rumors and questions and a general sense of surprise. He extended a hand. “You must be Joshua Frostblade. I’ve heard much about you. You can call me Erhardt. No need for epithets here.”

       “You know of me...?” This shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise given Joshua’s reputation, but the last thing he’d expected of meeting one of the greatest swordsmen of his generation was to be recognized and called out by name. “It’s an honor. And likewise, you may simply call me Joshua.”

       He swiftly stood and removed his hat to bow before straightening up and taking Erhardt’s hand in a much less formal shake. Even feeling a touch awestruck as he was, Joshua remained graceful and composed. It was practiced, of course, but that made little difference. He meant to impress, after all.

       “Um, if I may ask...” Joshua began, “what brings you here? Last year, the Unbending Blade fought in this arena, and now you? Two renowned knights such as yourselves showing up to this tournament is bound to make people talk no matter what, but the two of you specifically... Now that’s going to get people’s attention. No one’s all too sure you’re even still alive.”

       Not that Joshua minded. Those sorts of rumors would draw lots of outside attention, which meant more people would show up to the following year’s tournament. Regardless of whether or not he won this time around, he was sure to have a huge audience next year. 

       “I should only hope we have the good fortune of crossing blades in the arena. There’s no one else here I’d rather face in the finals.”

       In a rare display of excitement, Joshua cracked a smile. He was typically so stern, so reserved. But this was a once in a lifetime chance. Or twice, in a sense; he had fought Sir Olberic, after all. Now he had the opportunity to face off against the other Twin Blade.

       So many swordsmen in one place was, as always, an impressive sight. People from all of Orsterra had begun to gather in the designated waiting area, each one their own unique challenge, and no doubt each of them devastatingly strong. It was the kind of thing one could only see in Victors Hallow. 

       This was Joshua’s third year in the tournament, and though he wasn’t proud of his previous losses, he was pleased to have another chance at victory. He had no illusions about how easy or difficult this challenge might be--especially after losing to the Unbending Blade the year before--and it was exactly that promise of a good fight that had Joshua in relatively high spirits.

       He glanced around at the crowd, sizing up the competition. There were a few rather imposing looking people present, but one in particular caught Joshua’s eye. This man, though large and intimidating like so many other men, seemed familiar to him somehow. It stirred a memory in the back of his mind, possibly of one of the tales his tutor once told back in the days of his training.

       But what were the chances of the Blazing Blade showing up at a tournament...?

       To Joshua’s embarrassment, the man caught him staring. He looked away quickly, pretending in vain not to have been gawking like a fool. After a moment, however, he gave up on that act and glanced back. “My apologies. It’s impolite to stare, I know. I mean nothing by it.”

❄ Somewhere Over the Rainbow – ACCEPTING

anise: when it comes to self-care, what does your muse do to take care of themselves? do they take care to spend time on it, or do they feel they don’t deserve it?