Swinging his axe, Gerome grunted as the blade made contact against the sparring block with a heavy thud. The metal buried itself solidly into the wood, and only after he braced one arm on the block was he able to pry it back out. Taking a few steps back, he spun the weapon with practiced ease, the handle of the axe rolling over his knuckles before returning to his palm.
Shifting his weight, he swung the blade again, this time breaking through the damaged wood. Axe scraping against the dirt of the training grounds, Gerome let the momentum carry him, the axe stopping gracefully at his feet.
Breathing through his nose, it wasn't until a few moments later that he realized that another person had entered the ring. "Show yourself." Turning, he leveled his weapon with the newcomer, intent on showing them that their presence was unwelcome.
Hands clasped behind his back, Frederick eyes the axe pointed at him. His expression hardly changed, "Excellent technique." He eyed his son, seeming to be weighing his next action. Stepping past the blade, the knight lightly kicked Gerome's foot, adjusting his stance. "Though I would advise you keep more solid footing." He circled towards the cleaved sparring block, running a hand over the cleanly cut surface.
Glaring through his mask, Gerome shifted his weight, testing out the improved pose. He couldn't deny that the simple change had done scores to refine his stance. "Thank you Fath- Frederick."
The knight raised his eyebrow. "You need not force yourself to call me Father if it troubles you." He had the smallest trace of a smile on his face. "Though I believed that we had established that we were family already."
Gerome ground his teeth, turning towards another target on the side of the arena. His back to Frederick to hide his embarrassment, Gerome swung at the block, the satisfying crack of wood splitting through the grounds. "We have." Tearing the axe from the block, he swung again.
Tsking, Frederick watched as his son took another wild swing at the block. "You won't cut down any Risen like that." He approached the other, wordlessly asking for permission to help. When Gerome didn't protest, Frederick quickly adjusted the rider's grip on the weapon, making minute fixes.
"It seems that your style favors that of your mother's. Though, I see a bit of a Ylissean influence if I'm not mistaken." Stepping back, he motioned for Gerome to take another strike at the target.
Nodding, Gerome made a quick approach, making a quick strike and breaking the block. Satisfied, he let the axe rest against the ground, leaning his weight on it before addressing the knight. "In my time you trained me. But you disappeared before I could learn much. From there mother trained me."
The weight of Gerome's words rested heavily on Frederick. Though the other put up the image of indifference and strength, Frederick knew that Gerome no doubt struggled to accept him as a member of his family. Losing a loved one once was bad enough, but allowing an opportunity for it to happen again was almost too much. Steeling himself, Frederick vowed to fill the void his alternate self had left behind. "Let me make up for lost time. Perhaps this time I can give you the strength to change the course of events."
Gerome hesitated for only a moment before giving a curt nod. This time he would be stronger. For both his sake, the future's sake and for his father.
AN: School's been kicking my butt and I'm barely a week in. Sorry for the lack of updates! And thank you for the reviews! The feedback and suggestions make it 1000 times easier to get a doc started. I'm always up for requests, spending a bit of time writing is a nice distraction.
Guest Star B: I think Gerome and Frederick's support is the one that Gerome shares with all of his potential dads. Maybe this was alright?
smileplease91: I just need more Stahl supports. More supports in general. :') Omg no tears. Be strong friend. Or I'll start crying too haha.