This is my secret Santa for @yourheartonfire , I hope that you like it!
Prompt: A swordfight, between a protagonist with fancy formal training and an antagonist who's a back alleys dirty tricks kind of fighter. It can be friendly sparring or deadly combat, but there should definitely be some suppressed romantic feelings there
“Wooow,” the assassin drawled, spinning their blade lazily in their hand. “Nice uniform. Did they also give you that fancy sword?”
The soldier’s knuckles tightened on their weapon’s hilt, making the leather wrappings creak. “Don’t do this.”
It was not what they had imagined saying to the assassin if they ever met them again. No part of this sick situation had ever intruded upon their many daydreams and curious musings. In their minds eye, their friend was always still back at the orphanage, teaching kids the basic steps of combat like the old swordsman had once taught them. Or if not there, somewhere far and free from this land that hated them. Somewhere warm. And safe. They weren't supposed to be the very type of person that the soldier had sworn to fight.
“Why? Because we know each other?” They still spun their shortsword nonchalantly, as if none of this, their personal history or the soldier’s battle prowess, mattered, but even after all these years, the soldier still knew their tell: the tufted end of their tail lashed anxiously at the earth, stirring small puffs of dust around their ankles. “Gotta say, I heard you’d grown up, but I wasn’t expecting time to be quite so generous.”
The soldier’s cheeks flushed involuntarily. They had to fight the urge to hug themselves as the assassin’s golden eyes roved up and down, hungry and sharp-edged, cutting right through the plating and undoing every link in the chainmail beneath, exposing them to the world. 15 years ago they might have welcomed it. They still would have blushed, and the assassin would have teased their shyness, but they also would have gently guided them through it. A relationship at their own pace, soft and slow as leaves in a late summer creek.
They did not feel that same safety now.
The soldier raised their sword higher. “This is you’re last chance to walk away. One more step and I will consider you a threat to the crown.”
The assassin raised their brows. They stepped forward. “You probably should have considered that a long time ago.”
The solider barely braced themselves in time, catching the assassin’s wicked blade along the edge of their own before it gashed open their face. It was a bold move, if the soldier was a little slower it would have gotten them, but the footing wasn’t firm enough to hold against their strength.
“Sloppy.” They shoved forward, pressing all their weight all at once against the assassin’s weapon.
The soldier’s sword slid up and free with a light shink.
“You still go right for the throat. No care for how you’re going to hold the position later.”
The assassin glared. “Don’t preach your fancy training to me.”
The assassin scoffed. “Jealous? Jealous? Being jealous would imply that you have something I want, and I would die here, crawling in the mud, before I rolled over as one of their dogs!”
They lunged again, this time nimbler, feigning another blow and ducking the soldier’s return swing. The soldier barely whipped around in time before the point of that wicked blade found itself a home between their shoulder blades.
“You’re really trying to kill me.” As soon as it was out, the soldier bit their tongue.
“Were you not? I’m sorry, sweetie, it seems there’s been a misunderstanding.”
Suddenly the assassin was right up in front of them, one hand flat against their chest.
“What are you–” The soldier cranked their head in search of the sword, but then Villain’s tail wrapped around their knee. The end brushed the inside of their leg, sending a traitorous shiver down their spine.
“You still like me,” the assassin said, hand drifting up to their cheek now. Clawed fingers slid into their hair, just gentle enough not to scratch the surface, and their thumb trailed gently back and forth along their cheekbone. “Even after all you’ve done. After selling your soul to see mine damned, you like me.”
They laughed, a musical, hissing sort of sound that showed off the pearly points of their fangs.
“Does your boss know?” The points of their claws sank into their scalp. The soldier winced, attempting to pull back but only earning themselves a tighter grip on their hair. “I’m sure the king would have quite the shock to know one of his precious vassals consorts with demons. Or is it fine because it’s just the one? It is just me, isn’t it?”
They wrenched the soldier’s head to the side. It was almost as if they were on the verge of tearing their hair straight out, even as their face leaned carefully in, breath soft on their cheek and voice oh so gentle.
“It might hurt my feelings if you’ve been playing around with other monsters.”
“Get off me!” The soldier beat the flat of their sword against the assassin’s hip. A sharp, searing pain ripping through their thigh immediately followed. The soldier screamed.
The assassin drew their sword back scarlet, and the soldier collapsed the to the forest floor, a gush of warmth soaking their pantleg.
For a moment the assassin only stood over them, twirling their bloodied blade once, consideringly. “Huh. It seems I don’t want you dead. But don’t think I won’t do it if you press me. Just stay down and let me finish my job.”
They strode for the crashed carriage, dead driver still hanging out of their seat.
“No!” the soldier pressed their palm to their wound and wobbled to their feet. They gritted their teeth against the muscle-tearing agony as they dragged themselves stiffly forward. “You don’t understand!”
The assassin glared over the shoulder. “No, [Soldier], you don’t understand. You think we’re still kids playing games. We just whack each other a few times until we both get tired, call it a draw, and go home, but sorry, dear, we’re not kids anymore. I’ve been charged to kill the prince, and that is what I aim to do. Stay out of my way or die with him.”
“You’d…you’d really kill me?”
“I wouldn’t be killing my [Soldier]. I’d be killing another piece of the putrid infection that took them away.”
The assassin took a couple of steps forward before pausing again. This time they didn’t turn when they spoke. They stayed facing their target, shoulders straight and taught, tail lashing.
“You know they burned it down?” Their voice came out barely louder than a whisper. “Right after they took you and everyone else who benefited them out. They did it in the night while we were asleep. Most of them died.”
The soldier’s stomach clenched, almost like someone had taken their insides in a nauseating death grip. “I…I didn’t know.”
“Of course not. You were busy preening.”
The soldier surged forward furiously, slick hand slipping off their leg. “You don’t know a thing about me! I’ve been doing all I can to save you! All of you!”
The assassin scoffed. “Really? And where are the fruits of your labor? Have you actually done anything?”
“It’s a long road to peace.”
“Not so long as you’d think.”
The assassin wrenched open the door to the carriage.
The soldier stumbled on their next step, falling to their knees a few feet away.
The child scrambled back against the back of the carriage, knobby, white breached knees drawn to his ridiculously large cravat.
“What…” In a blink, the uncertainty was gone and the assassin hauled the child out of the carriage by the arm. “What is this?”
“The crown prince.” The soldier dragged themselves a little closer and held up both hands cautiously.
“No. No!” The assassin shook the prince in their fist causing him to whimper. “The crown prince is grown. He’s the pompous, pretty brat who gives all those puff speeches and insipid sneers.”
The soldier swallowed, not taking their eyes off their charge.
“That’s what we would call a stand-in. A double. An assassin deterrent. If you thought he was the prince why did you track my carriage?”
“Because I knew it would be you.”
“Who else is good enough to be the prince’s personal bodyguard? I know what I saw when the carriages left, but I knew, somehow, he would be with you.” Their gaze flicked down to the trembling, wet-eyed child in their hand–he was doing a remarkably good job keeping the majority of his emotions on the inside. “I still have to kill him. Child or not. This line has to end.”
“Wait!” the soldier grimaced at their own abrupt movement, gripping their leg once again. “Wait. Just…let me show you something. Please.”
The assassin hesitated. “Put down the sword.”
The soldier dropped the heavy, gilded blade without hesitation.
“It’s about the kid. Can you…can you bring him a little closer?”
The soldier was beginning to feel a little dizzy, but they had to hold on a little longer. For the kid. For [Assassin].
“If this is a trap, I will gut you,” the assassin said, but they still took the few steps between them, transferring the point of their blade from the child to the soldier’s throat.
The soldier made brief eye contact with the prince. “Forgive me, my liege.”
The young royal nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. He must have known what the soldier was about to do. He still felt humiliation over his differences, defects the other royals called them. The soldier was doing everything to cure those notions before they took too deep.
With a strong wrench either direction, the soldier ripped a large tear in the back of the prince’s trousers.
A black, tufted tail slipped out.
The assassin dropped him.
The soldier siezed the child up in their arms, scrambling on their rearend a few painful paces back before looking back at the assassin’s pale and confused expression.
Their mouth moved numbly. “[Assassin] meet [Prince]. The crown prince. His safety is not the only reason the royal has hid his identity with a double. He… He’s not the queen’s, but he is the king’s. That doesn’t make him legitimate, but it does make him fit to rule. And with no other heirs…” The soldier met the assassin’s eyes. “He’s going to change everything. He’s going…he’s going…” Their voice cracked. “Please.”
The assassin stared, predator eyes swimming with something unreadable. Mercy? Regret? Determination?
The soldier fumbled behind them for their abandoned sword. They weren’t getting out of this by running.
The assassin took a step forward. They brought their blade in front of themselves just as the soldier’s fingers caught the end of their sword hilt. The soldier pulled the blade toward them, one arm shaking as they used the other to clutch their charge close. They raised the sword in front of themself, and…
The assassin stabbed their short sword into the earth.
In moments, their old friend was knelt beside them, ripping a long piece of fabric from their tunic.
“Ridiculous, stupid, noble-hearted…” the rest was lost in a spew of unintelligible grumbling as the assassin wrapped the length of makeshift bandage taughtly around their leg. Their fingers moved fast and gruff, but they lingered a moment over the tie.
“I thought you changed. I thought you were like them.”
The soldier took a shuddering breath. “I have changed. But never like that. I’d never betray what I know is right.”
“Why are you such an incessant goody-two shoes?” The assassin chuckled lightly, giving their leg an awkward but playful shove before pushing to their feet.
“One of us has to be,” the soldier joked nervously back.
The assassin yanked their sword free with a small spray of earth and leaves, wiping it briefly on the ground before sliding it back in its sheath.
A beat of silence passed as the assassin turned back toward them.
“I’ll tell the guild the situation,” they finally said. “You…may see me again soon.”
Their tail flicked softly against the soldier’s ankle. It was light enough that it could have been an accident, but from what the soldier remembered, the assassin very rarely made accidents…
They smiled softly. “I’ll…keep an eye out.”
The assassin nodded and turned to the prince, bowing shortly. “My liege.”
The future king opened their mouth to respond, but when nothing came out, they only nodded nervously back.
The assassin chuckled. “I’m not being forgiven so easily, am I?”
The prince huddled closer to the soldier’s chest.
With one last nod, they turned on their heel and began the trek back into the trees. They only got a few steps before stopping again.
“I missed you.” It came so quiet the soldier barely caught it against the wail of wind in the branches. They did not wait for a response. With a last flick of their tail, they were gone.
The soldier stared after them, barely seeing the empty clearing in front them as they murmured a reply to the empty air.
