Linnaeus brought a hand to his forehead, wiping away the sweat beading there as he took a second to breathe. The sound of his quiet panting echoed in the emptiness of the training hall, a sound (or lack thereof) he’d long since grown used to. It was a rare occasion that he’d be here when someone else was present, and rarer still that they’d be aware of his presence.
He adjusted his stance towards the dummy, turning his sword over in his hand a few times out of habit. True, an immobile wooden torso was quite unlike any threats he’d face on the battlefield, but he figured it was better than simply sitting around idly, twiddling his thumbs waiting for a threat to come jumping from the shadows, a threat he’d be able to defend his mother from.
And so, he resumed his training, jabbing and slashing at the beat-up dummy with all his might, not stopping even as his arms began to tremble with exertion, and his breath came in shorter and harsher breaths. Deciding he’d earned another moment of respite, he sheathed his sword and bowed quickly at the wooden foe (he’d helped Linnaeus strengthen himself without so much as a word of argument, so he deserved some respect, the mercenary figured).
He was contemplating going for another round, when a noise from the hall made Linnaeus freeze in place. Were those… voices? Yep, voices and footsteps, coming closer and closer from the sound of things. The odds were slim that they’d be heading to this room specifically, but just to be safe, he dashed over to his familiar hiding spot, behind the weapon crates near the back of the room, and crouched in wait.
As luck would have it, he heard the door creak open; worse still, the voices that grew clearer were unmistakably those of Shiro and Siegbert. Drat! Of all the people who could’ve decided to brush up on their skills, it had to be him, the stunning lancer and prince that Linnaeus feared gazing at for more than a split second, lest the pure heat and awesomeness of the man cause him to combust like a faulty matchhead.
Oh, and Siegbert, too.
“I’m telling you, man, it’s not as big of an advantage as you think! It’s how you use your weapon that counts, not its size!” Shiro’s laugh echoed through the room, followed by a smack, a thud, and a quiet ‘ow’, which Linnaeus knew from experience meant Shiro had likely once again gone in for a friendly pat on the back, underestimated his strength, and ended up flooring poor Siegbert instead.
Linnaeus squeezed his eyes shut, curling closer to the wall to avoid detection as he tried to steady his breathing. The squeal of the dummy being dragged across the floor and Shiro’s encouragement that Siegbert give it a few swings told him the visitors likely weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. With a sigh, he tried to make himself comfortable, preparing to settle in for what could potentially be several hours of hiding until the coast was clear.
It wasn’t until the sound of a rack’s worth of swords and lances clattering to the floor caused Linnaeus’s heart to briefly stop, that he even considered the possibility that he might be noticed.
“Huh? Someone there?” Shiro hollered; Siegbert remained silent, likely staring at his shoes or imagining he was literally anywhere else.
Linnaeus briefly considered whether Shiro would be likely to fall for the “clumsy ghost of dummies’ past” excuse again. Deciding the odds were slim, he cleared his throat, rising to his feet with an awkward wave at the two very confused trainees. “S-sorry ‘bout that! Got a bit lost, is all!”
“Lost? But there’s only one do-“
“Oh, Linny! You’re just the guy I wanted to see!” Shiro interrupted, dashing over to the mercenary, who showed all the agility of a deer caught in headlights.
“Uh… I am?”
Shiro seized the mercenary by the arm, pulling him over to where the inanimate wooden figure (and the training dummy) stood. “Of course! I was just telling Sieg here about how having a sword doesn’t necessarily put you at a disadvantage to lances, and I wanted you to demonstrate!”
“Er, what?” Linnaeus tripping over his own feet, struggling to keep pace with Shiro. “But, I use swords too-“
“Exactly! This’ll be perfect! Wait there,” Shiro positioned him in front of Siegbert, running back over to the fallen weaponry to snag a lance. “Okay, here, you take this, and Siegbert, you come at him like he’s about to murder your whole family!”
“What?! I’d do no such thing!” Linnaeus’s protest fell on deaf ears as the Nohrian prince rushed at him. He managed to bring his spear up to parry the blow at the last second, knees buckling from the force of the impact. “W-wait, I don’t know how to-!”
“That’s why I’m gonna teach you!” Shiro grinned, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “Your first problem is your reflexes; if they’d been any duller, you’d have been skewered!”
Linnaeus barely had time to realize that Siegbert’s sword was the genuine article before a hard torso pressed against his back, a muscled arm reaching along his own to adjust his grip. “Second, your stance is way off; see, with a lance, you have to make sure…” Shiro’s words faded against the sound of Linnaeus’s heart hammering in his ears, the warm breath against his ear and smell of Shiro’s sweat making him unable to focus on anything else.
“You got all that?” Shiro questioned, jostling Linnaeus’s shoulder lightly. He quickly nodded to the affirmative, struggling to keep himself from collapsing to the floor like a rag doll. “All right! Come at him again, Sieg!”
Somehow, Linnaeus managed to find the presence of mind to parry Siegbert’s blows, though he figured the Nohrian wasn’t exactly in the most enthusiastic condition to fight, himself. Perhaps it was Shiro’s eager chirps of encouragement from the sidelines that kept him going; even as sweat cascaded down his brow and calves burned with the strain of his constant movement, the need to impress Shiro made sure he stayed upright.
After a while, it seemed Shiro had made whatever point he’d been trying to make to Siegbert, telling the dueling duo they could stop. Siegbert immediately took him up on that offer, panting and gasping something about needing a bath as he staggered out of the training hall before the Hoshidan could change his mind. Finding himself alone in the waning daylight of the hall, Linnaeus shuffled in place awkwardly, unsure of what to do next.
“Uh, that was… something, alright,” he offered, extending a hand to Shiro in gratitude. “Thanks for teaching me, uh- whatever it was you were teaching me?”
“No problem, buddy! You make for a great pupil!” Shiro’s hand squeezed a fair bit too tightly around Linnaeus’s as he beamed that adorable grin at the mercenary. “We should do this again! Just the two of us, though. I dunno how much more of this intense training poor Siggy could handle!”
“Y-yeah,” Linnaeus swallowed, unable to tear his eyes off the damp cloth of Shiro’s shirt sticking to his muscular chest. “That… sounds great.”
He managed to keep himself standing long enough for Shiro to leave before fainting.