who: @mountainvroyce when and where: the training yard for the inner keep at the gates of the moon context: the royce brothers being the royce brothers
the rain came down in sheets, a cold curtain that blurred the edges of the world. graham tightened his grip on his sword, his knuckles pale beneath the soaked leather of his gloves. each strike, each parry, felt heavier than it should, not because of the weight of the blade, but because of the weight of the thoughts clawing at him. axell’s face, his smirk, his calm—it was unbearable. infuriating. because somewhere within the features of his younger brother, there was a reflection. as though staring into a devoid, soulless pit of the blackest waters.
"why is it," graham asked flatly, his voice cutting through the rain like a blade. he struck with measured force, his movements sharp and deliberate, though only to find his brother was able to leap from the blow of the sword. "you have dragged our name into suspicion and whispers. again." there came the resounding blow of steel upon steel at his final word, a word which was stressed with emphasis and anger; and despite the clang of steel and the appearance of two knights of the vale seemingly ready to decapitate one another, they walked that thin line perfectly.
for this was how those of runestone had been raised, when they had issue with one another. pick up one's blade, and settle it in the courtyard.
the clash of steel rang out, and graham held the lock of their blades longer than necessary, studying his brother’s face. axell’s calm demeanor was unreadable as always, but to graham, it only confirmed what he’d already begun to suspect. "your wife," graham said, the words heavy with quiet disdain. "gone. vanished without a trace. and yet, you stand here, unaffected. no grief. no urgency. not even the pretense of concern. with that smug look on your damned face." he stepped back, raising his sword into a defensive stance. his gaze didn’t waver, fixed on axell with a cold, judging intensity.
there came the sound of whipping wind, which would have covered the voice of the king consort in this particular, specific moment. and he said it. "what, did you do?"