[The floor of the Training Grounds is cold. This shouldn't be a surprise -- they're smackdab in the middle of the Ethereal Moon inside an old monastery after all. Yet the shock of it against his back through the thickest and finest Faerghus furs, however brief, cuts through Felix's mind like the blade currently held up against his throat.
Everywhere else, he feels hot, especially over his neck and on his face. He quickly reasons it's because of the adrenaline from a well-fought spar. And, grudgingly, a bit of the shame of losing to one Ferdinand von Aegir.
Felix swallows thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing dangerously close to the tip of his opponent's blade, and looks up through his lashes. He grimaces. He isn't in any sort of physical pain save for the sting around his nose from when Ferdinand hit him there with the pommel of his weapon. His pride isn't wounded too badly either, which is the first sign that something about all of this is off.]
...I yield.
[If only because he needs to sort things out. And to catch his breath. He finds he can't do that if he's panting hard while being pinned to the ground.]
( Ferdinand knew that fighting Felix would be an exhiliarating experience. First and foremose he's choosing to view it as an opportunity to learn: there are few things he enjoys more than indulging his hobby of learning about wartime strategy, which means he's always looking to get first-hand experience of fighting styles that manage to keep him on his toes. He isn't so foolish as to think that having a few inches on Felix — or even being physcially stronger — is enough to grant him a win.
Not when the other man has speed and dexterity on his side.
Certainly, Felix hadn't disappointed. It's a hard-won victory and it's left Ferdinand more than a little pink in the face, some of his hair having slipped from where he's tied it back with a simple leather strap. A bright laugh bounces across the training grounds when he finally manages to get him pinned: )
The noble standard! Demonstrated by both of us, I should say.
( It's warm praise for both Felix and himself. He's panting heavily where he's splayed astride Felix, his eyes bright and his grin broad, before ceremoneously flicking his sparring partner's weapon out of arm's reach. )
You put up an excellent fight, Felix. There was never a moment in which my win seemed a guarantee.
( And no, he hasn't moved yet. Wrapped up as he is in congratulating the both of them and thinkign about his tactics for next time, he simply settles back so that he's sitting atop Felix more fully. )
[Feeling the other man's weight upon him increase when he sits, Felix squirms and finds he's more or less trapped beneath him. There are worse fates, sure, but staring up at the redhead who's as energetic and jovial as a golden retriever despite the thrashing he dealt, he can't seem to think of one offhand.
Ugh.]
Yeah, yeah. Patronize me all you want...you won, fair and square.
[He squirms again, tries to fix himself and he's only able to push himself up, slightly, onto his elbows. Ferdinand is bigger than him but he's not heavy, certainly not uncomfortable like this...but...
Felix makes a choked noise, then clears his throat. His breaths are coming in deep and slow now, not much of an improvement over the panting from before.]
Are you going to sit there and sing our praises all day or, what?
It was not my intent to patronize! Quite the opposite in fact: I meant to praise you for being such a worthy opponent.
( But then Felix pushes up onto his elbows and brings them that bit closer, which ... ah, makes it a easier for Ferdinand to see just how pink his sparring partner has become as a result of their exertion. The fact that it looks terribly becoming on him is neither here nor there — but it's that moment of consideration that snaps the redhead out of it and pulls him back into the moment. )
Ah—! Please, forgive me my absentmindedness.
( Unaware that his own cheeks have now flushed pink (a pink which quite clearly has very little to do with their sparring session), Ferdinand moves quickly to his feet before offering a hand to help pull Felix up. It brings them close again — it seems he misjudged the amount of force it would take to get the other man onto his feet — but he just chuckles warmly before taking a polite step back. )
Shall we break for tea? I've managed to get my hands on a new blend from Almyra that I've been so looking forward to trying.
[This is just...the worst. While they're not quite fumbling, at least not physically, it's still so very tense and awkward between them, and Felix hates it when things become that way. He's just not used to it -- most instances, he'd prefer to avoid them at all costs. But he's not foolish enough to believe he'd always be successful in that endeavor.
Felix pulls himself nimbly to his feet, almost instantly aware of their proximity once he stands and he's careful to take a step back away from Ferdinand. Just to be sure. He's frowning and rubbing at the back of his (now sweaty) nape when Ferdinand invites him to tea.]
Isn't it too hot?
[He blurts that part out. Completely unintentional.]
For tea, that is.
[But he does like those Almyran teas. So bitter and strong...]
But whatever, as long as I don't have to set anything up...
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@nobleamong
Everywhere else, he feels hot, especially over his neck and on his face. He quickly reasons it's because of the adrenaline from a well-fought spar. And, grudgingly, a bit of the shame of losing to one Ferdinand von Aegir.
Felix swallows thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing dangerously close to the tip of his opponent's blade, and looks up through his lashes. He grimaces. He isn't in any sort of physical pain save for the sting around his nose from when Ferdinand hit him there with the pommel of his weapon. His pride isn't wounded too badly either, which is the first sign that something about all of this is off.]
...I yield.
[If only because he needs to sort things out. And to catch his breath. He finds he can't do that if he's panting hard while being pinned to the ground.]
no subject
Not when the other man has speed and dexterity on his side.
Certainly, Felix hadn't disappointed. It's a hard-won victory and it's left Ferdinand more than a little pink in the face, some of his hair having slipped from where he's tied it back with a simple leather strap. A bright laugh bounces across the training grounds when he finally manages to get him pinned: )
The noble standard! Demonstrated by both of us, I should say.
( It's warm praise for both Felix and himself. He's panting heavily where he's splayed astride Felix, his eyes bright and his grin broad, before ceremoneously flicking his sparring partner's weapon out of arm's reach. )
You put up an excellent fight, Felix. There was never a moment in which my win seemed a guarantee.
( And no, he hasn't moved yet. Wrapped up as he is in congratulating the both of them and thinkign about his tactics for next time, he simply settles back so that he's sitting atop Felix more fully. )
no subject
Ugh.]
Yeah, yeah. Patronize me all you want...you won, fair and square.
[He squirms again, tries to fix himself and he's only able to push himself up, slightly, onto his elbows. Ferdinand is bigger than him but he's not heavy, certainly not uncomfortable like this...but...
Felix makes a choked noise, then clears his throat. His breaths are coming in deep and slow now, not much of an improvement over the panting from before.]
Are you going to sit there and sing our praises all day or, what?
Sorry for the slow reply - holiday things!
It was not my intent to patronize! Quite the opposite in fact: I meant to praise you for being such a worthy opponent.
( But then Felix pushes up onto his elbows and brings them that bit closer, which ... ah, makes it a easier for Ferdinand to see just how pink his sparring partner has become as a result of their exertion. The fact that it looks terribly becoming on him is neither here nor there — but it's that moment of consideration that snaps the redhead out of it and pulls him back into the moment. )
Ah—! Please, forgive me my absentmindedness.
( Unaware that his own cheeks have now flushed pink (a pink which quite clearly has very little to do with their sparring session), Ferdinand moves quickly to his feet before offering a hand to help pull Felix up. It brings them close again — it seems he misjudged the amount of force it would take to get the other man onto his feet — but he just chuckles warmly before taking a polite step back. )
Shall we break for tea? I've managed to get my hands on a new blend from Almyra that I've been so looking forward to trying.
no worries! 😌
Felix pulls himself nimbly to his feet, almost instantly aware of their proximity once he stands and he's careful to take a step back away from Ferdinand. Just to be sure. He's frowning and rubbing at the back of his (now sweaty) nape when Ferdinand invites him to tea.]
Isn't it too hot?
[He blurts that part out. Completely unintentional.]
For tea, that is.
[But he does like those Almyran teas. So bitter and strong...]
But whatever, as long as I don't have to set anything up...