Hiiii!
In honor of pride month could you write about a flirty palace guard and an apathetic prince? Maybe a training scene with alot of tension?Thanks!
“You should work on your stance. You’ll lose your balance,” the guard mentioned. His eyes were on the prince’s feet, slowly wandering up to his face and once they actually looked at each other, the guard couldn’t help but grin.
Ever since he’d spent his childhood side by side with the prince, he found himself smiling like an idiot whenever he was looking at the royal. Or the royal at him.
He didn’t know why. He didn’t question it either. His best friend — despite his high title and cold demeanour — was the only one he could ever call home.
“Your majesty wouldn’t want to end up on the floor, squirming, no?” the guard asked, his voice playful. He liked it when the prince started blushing. He liked it when the heir was stumbling over his own words.
“No. He wouldn’t want that,” the prince answered instead, twirling his blade, correcting his stance. “Who would want to be on your level?”
“Ouch,” the guard said. “I would want you on that level.”
He finally attacked, his blade going for the prince’s stomach. The prince blocked seemingly elegantly.
But the guard still noticed a slight shaking in his hand. The prince was hesitant. Unsure.
“I’m sure you would,” he answered, attacking the guard this time. He parried without struggle, though, their blades crashing against each other once again.
This time, both of them were pushing, neither ready to stand down.
“You would enjoy it too, your majesty.” The guard was already breathing heavily but that didn’t change how he stared at the prince. At his perfect locks, his bright eyes, his small scar…
The prince didn’t smile, he never acknowledged the guard’s bright mood.
“I know you like it when people beg. Maybe you could beg for me this time?” He kicked the prince’s ankle which made him almost fall. He could only stop pushing against the guard’s blade and walk back a few steps to stop that from happening.
“You’re forgetting who you’re talking to.” The prince frowned. “I’m your future king.”
“You’re my prince,” the guard reminded him. Now that there was distance between them, he could finally take deep breaths. “But you’re also my best friend.”
Born as an orphan, the guard never had much to lose. But now that he was protecting the only person that actually meant something to him, he was terrified of losing him. Which was why he had to train him.
The prince wasn’t a fighter. He was a strategist. And the guard had to change that.
“Bold of you to assume—” The guard walked towards the prince and with one quick motion, he was able to disarm the royal. One hand found the prince’s hip and pinned him against the wall, the other still clasped the blade and held it close to the prince’s throat.
The prince could only manage a choked “woah” before the guard’s lips were near his ear.
“I need you to be more careful.”
“It’s not a big deal. It was one assassination attempt,” the prince said.
“One too many.”
“I’ll have to survive worse in the future.”
The guard sighed. The prince could be cold at times. But the guard also knew his softer side. The prince who liked to tell stories. The prince who liked to read.
“Next round,” the guard announced, drawing back. “I won’t go easy on you now.”