Total Words: 504
Potential
By: Melody Syper Carston
Oneshot: Training
"Remember: Circle and strike. Search for a weak wall, bruderlein. Clear your mind of anything that doesn't have to do with your opponent. Detach yourself from your emotions in order to make the confrontation quick and clean. And never show vulnerability."
"Yes, bruder."
The smaller of the two boys narrowed his eyes in concentration as he yet again surged forward with his dulled blade, attempted to jab his younger brother in the chest, and narrowly missed his mark. His halo of blonde hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, pale blue eyes a shocking comparison to the flushed, red cheeks below them. He watched his brother carefully, observing each move the younger made.
Said younger brother jolted forward to strike at his older brother's side in an attempt to mimic the other. He lashed out quickly but the move was ineffective.
The Holy Roman Empire dodged the albino, pivoting and bringing his weapon up to clap the flat of the blade against his brother's now unguarded chest. He sighed as the other collapsed in a heap. "You left yourself vulnerable, bruderlein. Get up, and try again."
The young Teutonic Order, who was desperately trying to suck oxygen back into his starving, burning lungs after the sharp blow, nodded, "Go easy, would you?"
A malicious grin slid onto his features as he splayed his hands across the sides of his boots as if about to push himself into a standing position. He made no move to rise. His crimson eyes sparked with excitement when he spoke next, "'Bet you're just trying to impress lil' Ita over there by beating up your lil' bruder, aren't ya? Tryin' to show her how tough you like to pretend you are. Thinkin' you're so awesome for it, too! Lemme tell ya something, bruder… No one is as awesome as the awesome Teutonic Order!" And with that, the younger brother struck, swiping the blonde's legs out from under him, and pinning him down with a forearm across his chest, the dagger he had pulled from his boot when Holy Rome had brought him down, poised in the other hand at the blonde's jugular.
A look of shock flitted across Holy Rome's features, staring up at his brother, mouth shaped into an 'o'. And for a pause, it seemed he was going to try something else—The Teutonic Order tensed in preparation—but the blonde swiftly shut his eyes and let out a peal of laughter.
"Seems you do have potential." His expression once again morphed into one of complete seriousness. "You will train with me every morning until you qualify for the military. Vater trained me, and I will follow in his footsteps by training you. I'm not going to hold back, and I'm not going to slow down either. There's no more of this 'going easy,' bruderlein, understand?"
"Yes, bruder."
X~*~X
A/N: A short snippet that was taken from a Narrative derived from "Mein Bruderlein" I wrote for school. I had to write a narrative about a challenge one might face (could be fictional or real). So I chose to take the death and funeral scene from Mein Bruderlein and added this to the beginning to establish a relationship between HRE and Prussia (or Teutonic Order in this fic). Again I used nation names to clear up confusion.
For more about HRE being older than Prussia, see "Mein Bruderlein".
"I don't see why people add disclaimers to their stories. I mean obviously they don't own it, or they would be multimillionaires that actually did something with their lives instead of writing things for fanfiction. If they actually owned all of this shit, then it would have actually happened, and they wouldn't even bother to think about this dumbass website." -One of my friends on disclaimers
~Melody Syper Carston