Written for fic_promptly on dreamwidth: "the punishment for dereliction of duty is more duty"
I just like Fado and Ephraim, kay.
Despite the sun shining brightly and the birds singing peacefully in the gardens, the mood was quite heavy and serious. Ephraim stood ramrod straight and stared forwards. Fado was sitting in a low chair, whose wooden skeleton was hidden underneath a brown fur blanket. The king was staring off in the same direction as his son; a robin was hopping around on the balustrade of the balcony. He looked here and there, tilting his head adorably. Suddenly his movements stilled, the bird flapped his wings once, twice and then he was gone.
Ephraim shifted impatiently and his eyes darkened. His fingers itched; he wanted to get over with this. He was losing time that he could employ better elsewhere. On the training field, for example. Or do something fun with Eirika; they wanted to explore all the cellars of the castle for a while now, but they had always been detected before they could even descend the first stairs. But they had been watching the guards for a few days and now knew when the corridors were empty.
"Ephraim," said Fado, heaving a great sigh.
"Yes, Father?" Ephraim snapped. He cleared his throat and dropped his gaze. He had to restrain his temper or this would take even longer.
"I assume you know why you are here?" Fado's voice sounded a tad colder than a second ago. Ephraim swallowed and looked up; he was not intimidated!
"No." Fado looked at him, expressionless. Ephraim swallowed again; his father was truly angry.
"Ephraim, don't play dumb with me." Ephraim quickly nodded. His father's face relaxed a bit and Ephraim immediately felt better. "Your teachers are telling me you're not doing your work or studying. Is that true?"
Ephraim huffed. "I don't need their lessons." He stuck out his chin. "I'm going to become a mercenary. I'll travel around and fight. Eirika is going to rule. She promised." Fado sighed and lowered his head, massaging his forehead. "I will," Ephraim added with force. "And you won't stop me."
"Ephraim, I do not care." Lighting hit Ephraim and frizzled through his veins. His heart beat loudly in his ears and for a second breathing was difficult. His father looked at him again with a level gaze. "You will attend the lessons and you will do your work."
"But–!"
"Do not interrupt me." Ephraim's mouth snapped shut and his eyes widened. "Even if you don't believe me now, you will need this knowledge. I've talked with your teachers," Fado pushed himself out of the chair and walked past Ephraim to the windows, "and I allow them to punish you at their discretion if you act up again. This includes keeping you in your room until you have finished your homework, even if you miss other classes. But don't think that you don't have to catch up on them in your free time."
That restored Ephraim's spirits. "But then I'll miss my lance practice with Seth!"
"Yes, that could happen." Fado turned and stared down at his son. "If you let it happen."
"That's unfair," slipped past Ephraim's lips before his pride could forbid it.
"You have no one else to blame but yourself. Do your duties. Then the punishment will be lifted again." Ephraim gritted his teeth, dropping his gaze to the ground. "Oh, and you are not allowed to ask Eirika for help or your lance training will be cancelled completely."
"You can't do that!" Ephraim exclaimed. He couldn't believe that these words had actually fallen from his father's lips.
"I can do many things." Fado's face was expressionless again. "You are talented enough to catch up quickly. Missing a few weeks of training won't harm you." Ephraim blinked quickly. This had to be dream. They stared at each other for a few moments; then Fado sighed and his expression softened. "Ephraim, you'll understand me when you're older. Trust me, alright?" Fado tilted his head and smiled gently. Ephraim fought the impulse to pout and only lowered his head. He heard his father sigh again. "That's all for now, Ephraim. It's time for your language lessons anyway." Ephraim nodded and turned, still keeping down his head. "Be a good boy."
"Yes, Father," he mumbled and scuffled out of the room.