#no beta we die like queen valerin

[starrycassi]

Weapon.

One to disarm. One to fear.

Ballister stood still, looking at the boy in front of him. Ambrosius Goldenloin, the Golden Boy of the academy. The blonde, younger than him, was quickly showing him just why everyone adored him so much.

He'd thought of Ambrosius as a complete idiot, a total jerk, a spoiled brat. It was, well, shocking, to see him act like anything but. They fought, and Ballister won, and Ambrosius looked like a caged, confused animal. It was a stupid brawl, merely a misunderstanding, and Ballister had never actually won against a classmate. Sure, he was the most energetic and motivated student in the whole class, but the pure force of will he had wasn't enough to match whole childhoods of training.

And Ambrosius bowed.

It was slow, and kinda painful. Ambrosius Goldenloin bowed, bending over with a careful reverence. His long hair was loose now — Ballister had lost his own hair tie, too, and they both had a million of leaves and tiny branches in their hair and faces and clothes. The fight had started because Ambrosius said something stupid, but Ballister didn't even remember what he said. He was too stunned, too captivated by the respect he was being shown for the first time ever.

He'd always been a reckless boy. It felt right, and he wanted to, so he launched himself forward and hugged Ambrosius, because where he came from love was the only way to show trust, physical affection was the biggest form of friendship.

"Let's make up" he said, smiling with ease — he'd seen Ambrosius as some sort of god-send child-angel, but he felt so alive and real trapped in his arms, he breathed erratically and he had a heartbeat.

A voice in the back of his head told him this wasn't okay. He shouldn't, he couldn't, he didn't deserve to be so familiar with this boy. But hadn't he hugged all his roommates back at the orphanage? Hadn't he shared a warm embrace with every kid that offered him help?

When there's no money around, trust is the best currency one can give. He shouldn't, je couldn't, he didn't deserve to treat Ambrosius Goldenloin like he would any other kid, but he wanted to, he really wanted to. He wanted to become a knight, and it was working out. He wanted to have a friend, and there didn't seem to be any other way to get one than launching himself head first into unknown waters and hoping for the best.

"...sure" said Ambrosius, after a few seconds. And Ballister was almost starting to regret this, when the other boy's arm surrounded him, too, and he could feel the warmth emanating out his skin. The gross smell of the sweat. The trash and dirt all over him. The quickened pulse.

Ambrosius, suddenly, started giggling. He pushed Ballister away with a soft movement that he could never imagine would ever come from the cocky kid in the tv ads. But this wasn't Ambrosius, the child prodigy. This was Ambrosius, his classmate and newly acquired friend, who was blushing all of the sudden.

"Sure, let's be friends. I'm sorry, by the way. I didn't mean to be rude to you"

Ballister started cackling at the other boy's face, sorrow and regret painted over it, hunched over by the lack of breath. He didn't even remember. He didn't remember shit. The situation was so absurd — one second, he threw himself against an idiotic blonde for saying a stupid comment, the other, he practically tackled Ambrosius Fucking Goldenloin into a hug, all because he wanted to.

Ambrosius wasn't that much of a jerk, he came to find out later, together, in the blond's bedroom, patching each other up to avoid getting scolded by the nurse. He was rather kind. Rather human.

And a little bit pretty.

.

The clashing of swords and armors, bodies and fists, metal and iron, flesh and blood invaded the place.

Ballister cornered Ambrosius, smiling. This was fun. Their first time actually wearing their knight attire at practice, where they usually used bodysuits or something else. Armor was way heavier, and infinitely harder to maneuver in. However, Ambrosius's training seemed to languish when confronted with Ballister's line of work.

Ambrosius had been trained, sure. He was born to be a knight, raised to be a captain, and prepared to be the best; and he would've been, had it not been for Ballister.

Ballister, who went around, more often than not, helping the maids of the Institute to carry heavy loads of whatever they were transporting, who climbed trees for fun and grew up running errands.

Their bodies clashed, again. Metal against metal and sweat mixed with sweat; Ballister smiled, and so did Ambrosius. All the other couples were done already, and their eyes were fixed on the pair. Ambrosius and Ballister seemed to ignore the fact, hitting and moving and launching and escaping with ease, laughing slightly whenever the other wavered.

Ballister gave him the fatal blow. Or what would've been the fatal blow, had he used a bit more force. Instead, Ambrosius doubled over with pain, while their coach reluctantly announced Ballister as the winner.

Again.

.

Ambrosius and Ballister looked at each other, frowning. One in front of the other, swords raised, ready to fight all the monsters in the world. They stared.

They had fought, cried, laughed, made out, screamed at and enjoyed things, together. Like two cherries on a stem, like two sides of the same coin. Never seen without each other.

Both of them were adults, now. Even if Ambrosius was barely sixteen, and only an adult because of signed paperwork, they were legally, adults. And they were going to be treated like adults, from now on.

(It wasn't the first time. Had they ever been kids? Ballister couldn't remember. Had they ever been free?)

"From now on" said the Director, walking around them. Every pair of knights stood still and stiff, looking at each other. They always worked in couples. "I want all of you to understand weapons"

Her heels clicked against the floor at every single step she takes. Weapons. Ballister's heart starts to feel heavier in his chests. Weapons. He feels so ready, to take the laser bows and the energy-powered arrows.

He looks around, they all do, murmuring to each other, to themselves. Weapons. They expect to see someone bring them in, or to be told that the lesson will be moved and received outside, where the weapons will be awaiting.

The Director, however, keeps her rhythmic pace. She tells them to close their eyes, and they do, excited.

"I want you to think, for a moment" her voice, cold and bored, makes Ballister's excitement die almost immediately. "To really feel what it's like, to be alive."

They do. Ballister breathes in, slowly, and remembers sunny summers and deadly winters in an orphanage. Joyful springs and melancholic autumns in the Institute. It's calming, if only for a bit.

"Your blood" she adds, enunciating every word, "Feel it, feel it run in your veins. Feel your skin tingle, your hair"

They do. Ambrosius remembers that he's just a bunch of bones, guts, meat and cartilage, all put together to make him... well, him. It's comforting, in a sense.

"Now, open your eyes"

They do. Ballister and Ambrosius look at each other, smiling for half a second, too happy to see the other to hide it immediately.

"In front you, lies the deadliest weapon ever"

(she looks at Ambrosius when she says this. She looks at Ambrosius when she says this. She's already planning the future and he's going to be a vital part of it)

"I want you to try and understand what you are. All of you. You're knights, almost. You've been trained and been instructed"

She instructs them to get their swords up, again. They will fight, again. Like that, all. bundled up, all together. Ambrosius can feel someone hit his back, and he tries to communicate his confusion over to Ballister. Where's the weapons?

The Director tells them. All about it. They're not people, anymore. Not normal people, anyway. They're the best of the best, and the blood that runs under their skins is almost like the oil under a car's metal. They fight, confused and used to bigger spaces, to less people.

She tells them to watch out. They're a weapon, and the person in front of them is, too. Good weapons can be modified, upgraded and polished.

(They can also be disarmed. They can also be disarmed)

#lol this should be longer but I'm sleep #hey girl and non girl I'm alive #I was kinda having a manic episode #so #you know #nimona movie #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister nimona #goldenheart #nimona #ballister boldheart #nimona (2023) #ambrosius nimona #ambrosius x ballister #ballister blackheart #no beta we die like queen valerin #should i get this a oart two? they would kiss on it btw