"Die, Swedish pig!" Mathias cried, grinning maniacally as he flung a rock at his cousin, the dukeling Berwald. Berwald, equally enraged but slightly less vocal about it, caught the rock in midair and flung it back at the Dane, who dodged it. This was fortunate, as none of the two were holding back due to a profound, mutual hatred that they had nurtured for their entire, ten-year-long lives.
The two children had been sent outside after having caused a minor incident at the reception that was taking place at the manor Berwald currently resided in, and were thus unsupervised by anyone that cared (the cat hardly paid them any attention). Just as Mathias was picking up another, bigger rock, a loud cackling could be heard, and the cousins spun around.
"Still squabbling among you, schwächlingchen?" The albino boy was three years older than the cousins, the blond boy behind him a year younger, and were dressed in far more expensive and carefully tailored clothes than their Nordic peers. The albino, Gilbert, was very well aware of this, and his posture radiated arrogant confidence. His younger brother, Ludwig, was as of yet still a calmer and more shy being, who politely nodded at the cousins. Sadly, his good manners were unobserved.
"Shut up, Prusshit," Mathias snarled.
"That all you got?"
Not one to resort to petty squabbling, Berwald picked up a stick, big enough to be impressive, but slender enough to bend, and whipped it through the air to test it. Satisfied, he corrected his stance and pointed it towards Gilbert.
"En garde, bâtard."
Gilbert growled, picking up the largest stick he could find and carry. "Vous vais le regretter, je vous le jure!" He charged at Berwald, but was suddenly blocked by Mathias' own stick.
"Créve!"
Faced with a common enemy, the cousins joined forces, and started battering the Prussian from two directions. It had to be said that Gilbert defended himself skilfully, blocking and sidestepping on light feet before charging again. Ludwig picked up a switch of willow with trembling hands, and managed to get in a surprise attack on Mathias before the same kicked him down on the ground, leaving him there crying.
"Ludwig!" Prussia roared and attacked the Dane with double effort, forcing him to retreat several steps, slicing up a nasty cut above his brow. Grinning widely, Gilbert lifted his stick high, preparing to strike down on Mathias, whose eyes widened in realisation and fear. However, at that moment Berwald came from the side and quickly slapped Gilbert over the wrist with his stick. Gilbert dropped his stick, swearing in angry German.
Berwald pulled Mathias upright, and collected the sticks and threw them in the river. The fight was over.
Despite being thoroughly scolded by their parents, nannies and other relatives, Berwald and Mathias spent the rest of the evening relishing their shared victory and a short-lived companionship that ended before morning came.