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#anyway i better post this before i overthink this wayyyyy more that i should
saint-gerard-of-arc · 2 months
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if you still do these 48 + vinikki pls pls pls i’ll love you forever
“So…” began the butler, as he extracted the sword out of its scabbard, making the sunlight bounce on the sharp blade, “shall we begin your training, Vincent?”
Vincent pulled out his weapon as well. “That’s master Wharton to you now, Nicholas.” The young man snickered, as he gripped the hilt with both hands. A flash of rage and determination lit up his hazel eyes as he slowly but confidently made his way towards his servant, who began walking forward too.
As much as Nicholas saw Vincent's birth and always took good care of him, they despised each other. Well, at least Vincent hated Nicholas, that’s for sure. There was something about the way the butler treated him like a child, despite being well over that phase of his life, that got on Vincent’s nerves.
But today, the day of his 21st birthday, would’ve been the day Vincent showed him, and everyone else, what he’s made of, he would’ve shown the man he had become.
“Oh come on, Vince,” grinned the older man, raising his sword. “we’re friends by now, aren’t we?”
“No, we’re not.” Responded the blond nobleman, through gritted teeth. The nobleman tried to stay calm, to not raise his voice, to not let his adversary win. Nicholas was found by his family when he was still a hungry urchin living in the London slums, so who the hell did he think he was? That day, Vincent thought, his father should’ve minded his business.
They stopped a few inches from each other, with their blades touching, in a guarding position.
“May the best of us win.” Said the butler, flashing his teeth, his green eyes glistening with calm confidence.
“En garde, old bastard.”
The metal clangors quickly followed one another. Whenever Vincent tried to strike, Nicholas was ready to deflect his attacks, almost as if he could predict Vincent’s every move. Slash, slash, lunge. Vincent only managed to cut a strand of the older man’s jet-black hair. Their swords crossed, the blades slipping, and now it was a matter of who was going to get the best of the other. Vince was losing his balance, but he refused to give up. With an effort and a scream of rage, the nobleman pushed away his adversary, making him almost trip on his own feet. Almost. But Vincent had already let his guard down, not having the time to react when Nicholas sweeped his blade, leaving a thin, bloody gash on the young man’s cheek. Vincent held back the hiss of pain.
“Oh, that’s gonna leave a nasty mark!” Snickered the butler.
Vincent decided to ignore him, determined to not get distracted by Nicholas’s babbling. The fact that he got hit even once, it was already one too many. He managed to deflect another blow, but barely. Their swords crossed again, but this time Vincent lost his balance and fell over, making him lose the grip of his weapon.
“Well, well, well.” The butler pointed his sword at the nobleman’s neck. “Rule number one: never let your guard down.”
“Are you gonna kill me…?” Muttered the blond, raising his head ever so slightly, in order to take a glimpse of Nicholas’s face.
The other let out air of his nose in amusement. “It would be very hard to explain your disappearance to your family.” He diverted his armed hand away from the young man, and reached out with the other, to help Vincent get up.
“Right…” said Vincent, a bit hesitant at first to accept his help. “The butler is always the prime suspect.”
The older man let out a hoarse laugh. “Wait here. I’ll go grab some bandages.”
---
“How was I?” Asked Vincent. He didn't know why he wanted to seek Nicholas's approval, yet that question slipped out of his mouth.
“Not bad.” Said the other, concentrating on dabbing the wound with a bandage. "Not bad at all for your first time.”
The blond frowned, both from physical and emotional pain. “I feel like you’re lying to me.”
“I would never. " Responded the butler, calmly. "I mean it.”
"One day I'll be able to defeat you, you'll see." Mumbled the young man. "Then you're finally going to respect me."
Nicholas stopped what he was doing to look at his young master in the eyes. He smiled, thinking that Vincent was just like his father. "Here's the thing," he began, "respect is not given unconditionally, it is earned." He then put a hand on Vincent's shoulder. “This is my gift for you for today: a humble piece of advice. Happy birthday, master Wharton.”
Put That Guy in a SituationTM Ask Game/Prompt!
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