Arm Wrestling Arm Wrestling
(A.N.: I came up with this idea while I was arm wrestling with my sister. Since I have the enjoyable tendency to speak like Ion the royal 'we', I began wondering about a situation in which Ion would arm wrestle. Yeah, it's random, but I like thinking about Ion and Radu's childhoods together. They're cute, especially in the manga flashbacks. They're both 10, by the way.)
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"Radu! Come, cross arms with us!" we yelled up to Radu's window, the second floor and quite high up.
"Ion, my lady mother says it is time to study post-Armageddon history. I cannot come out now."
"But we wish to test our strength! Or art thou a coward?" We grin, knowing this, if nothing else, will bring our tovarăs running. He knows we are teasing, and yet he cannot resist a challenge.
"I am no coward! Prepare yourself for grim defeat!"
We smile at this, for our tovarăs is even more competitive than we. The sport of arm wrestling is one in which we have beaten countless others (at least the children of our servants) and we do not intend to lose to him. But just in case, we flex our biceps. We hear Radu leap from the first floor roof and emerge from the bushes below. How those bushes fare so well with his frequent escapes, we know not. Perhaps they drink water of life like Methuselah.
Now we see our opponent, covered with small leaves and twigs. His blue-black hair shines in the fading moonlight.
"Meet thy fate, Ion Fortuna," he says, a grin crinkling his dark eyes.
"Prepare for thine, Radu Barvon." We begin an impromptu staring contest. He holds our gaze for so long! However, we refuse to give in.
"You blinked, Ion!"
"'Twas merely dust in our eyes." We rub our eyes in an attempt to add truth to this. Radu rolls his eyes and smirks.
"Are you sure it was not your inflated ego?"
We glare at him and he shrinks back.
"If you are so eager to be beaten, I suppose I will humor you," he says, puffing his chest out proudly.
We feel no need to dignify that with a response, and soon he becomes serious. We both lay down on the small patch of grass that has survived our childhood games and lock hands. His grasp is strong, and we rather worry that perhaps our honor will be tarnished after all. But we shake our head to clear the thought from our mind. We will not be beaten!
"Art thou ready, Radu?"
"Never more ready, tovarăs!" With that, we begin.
He is so strong! Our blue eyes open wider than before as we struggle to maintain our position. We try to think of this in terms of military strategy. But after we give a bit of slack, his resistance greatens and soon our arm makes a very narrow angle with the ground.
The proud defeats of every Terran child in our neighborhood flash before our eyes and we gulp nervously. Could it be possible that we will lose?
No! Ion Fortuna will not lose. We put all our physical force behind our shaking bicep, but to no avail. Within seconds, our grinning tovarăs neatly presses our hand to the ground and stands up, dusting himself off.
"Beaten, Ion. Care to try again?" He smirks and pats his arm proudly.
We do not trust ourself to speak, choosing instead to straighten our back and begin the walk to our house. Alone. Closing our eyes, we try to control our breath, and also our temper.
Although we fully intend to make our way down the dusty road back to home, we hear the footsteps of Radu behind us, slow at first but gaining in speed.
"Ion, I do not…" He breaks off, then begins again. "I did not intend to… anger thee. I was only playing, and so I ask you…" We turn around. "I ask you to please…not be angry with me." He hangs his head and we remember nearly every fight we have had. Never has one lasted over a day.
"We forgive thee," we say. "We merely wished to test our strength against thee, and we now know that we have a very strong friend."
Radu beams, a truly radiant sight. The first rays of sunlight catch his dark hair and give it a blue shine. We can understand the crushes that the neighborhood Terran girls have for him.
And then he utters the words.
"Perhaps… you would care to try again?"
He looks innocent and naïve, but we have a small suspicion that appearances are not to be trusted. However, we do want to try our hand (no pun intended) at it again. Perhaps he cheated?
We return to the sad piece of surviving grass, turning around to see Radu approaching us with the air of one trying not to frighten away a butterfly. We know not what this means, so we grasp his arm and prepare to try our hardest.
His grip is… not quite as strong as before. Is he letting us win? This thought angers us in the extreme, and we feel the adrenaline rush through our arm. We will win honorably!
Radu's dark eyes open wider as his hand pulls up, grinning through the effort. We are winning! Just a little farther…
"Radu!"
He gasps and releases his hand from our grasp.
"Radu! Your lady mother is not pleased with you! Come here at once!"
"I will be there momentarily, Chloe!" he calls to his mother's servant.
We whisper to him from our place on the ground, for we do not wish him further discipline, "We would have beaten thee if not for the interruption."
His smug grin widens as he responds. "We shall see tomorrow, tovarăs. Victory shall be mine once again."
Radu turns to run back inside, hoping that he will not be punished with more studying. We stand up, dust our shirt and pants off, and watch him leave, thinking to ourself.
"We must get more practice."
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(A.N.: If I get at least some feedback on this story, I'm considering writing more Ion and Radu childhood stories. I don't think of them as a couple or anything, except as a couple of cute, funny kids. They remind me of the good old days. Ah, childhood! I really do want to know if anyone liked this.)