Hope

Phase II: Light, However Brief.

Chapter Eleven

"Pity, my father told me, is a weakness. It brings about hesitation, and with that, a chance for your enemy to strike. When you fight me, you will have no pity, understood?" Dirk spoke, holding his sword up to his face, and then swinging it about between his slender fingers. Jacob nodded, watching his movement, 
"Aye."
Dirk nodded, "then bare your sword, and show me your lack of pity." 
Jacob swallowed hard and unsheathed a sword. It was simple English steel sword, sharp enough and light enough, but it was nothing impressive. Dirk stepped back, pointing his Welsh sword directly at Jacob's nose. In the background, Dirk's gramophone played slow music. A violin's song echoed throughout the house, setting a rather contradicting feeling in Jacob's mind. This music was the type one would dance to, holding their partner close and firm, and not a song to be fighting along with. Jacob's posture was not at all like his master's - tall, gracious, ready. His shoulders were slumped, making him appear somewhat awkward. He felt uncomfortable holding the blade. Nonetheless, he pointed his sword up too, his emerald gaze sliding across the edge of his blade, onto Dirk's, and then landing into a pool of amber. They had a moment of calm before Dirk's hand twisted, moving the sword to clash with Jacob's. There the music began to progressively quicken, though, the steps to accompany it would be timed, and soft. The steps Jacob made were heavy, making the wood flooring creak. Silently Dirk stepped, his moves swift. He jabbed at Jacob, to which the butler evaded, and returned with a swing to Dirk's legs. The prince need only jump over the other, and slash at his neck. He landed behind him, with his blade pressed to Jacob's soft flesh. He was quick to move out of Dirk's sword's grasp, and he spun around, lifting his foot to kick the prince in the chest. Dirk stopped his foot with a flat hand, and curled his fingers around it before forcing Jacob onto the floor. Before Dirk could bring his sword down on Jacob, he rolled out of the way, and stumbled back to his feet.
On the staircase sat Day, watching the action between the two. She barked every time Jacob was close to danger, trying to keep him awake.  
"You are focused on the incorrect thing, Jacob," Dirk noted, swinging at him again. The butler pulled his face in confusion,
"What else would I be focusing on here, master?" Jacob asked, dropping his attention. Dirk stepped to him, the high pitches of the violin coming in time with his strides.
"Do not be daft, Jacob," he said, a subtle smirk on his face. Jacob looked around the room frantically, quickly bringing up his sword to block Dirk's attack.
"Listen, Jacob!' Dirk commanded before vanishing into the dark corners of the entrance hall. Day stood up, her raw eyes looking about as Jacob's did too. He yelled out in surprise as the flash of a sword glinted right passed his eye. Small strands of his hair were cut, and they slowly glided to the floor. He stumbled, his chest pounding. Again another high screech from the violin, and another slash from Dirk. Jacob fell to the floor, his head full of uncertainty.
It was only when the fifth slash, along with another screech from the song, came round did Jacob realize the pattern. He stood up, an excited shine sparked in his eye. He waited, stepping to the rhythm of the song, and soon stepped aside when Dirk's attack came. He stuck out his foot, causing Dirk to foolishly stumble. He then moved to punch Dirk, and took hold of his wrist, twisting it and yanking the sword out of his hand. Jacob then tossed the swords aside, grabbing Dirk's shirt and yanking him closer. Dirk growled at his silliness, and  pulled up his knee to Jacob's crotch. The butler then froze up, falling to the floor in pure pain. Dirk snorted,
"How dare you throw my sword?" Dirk huffed, walking to his weapon as he dusted off his shirt.
"Hold on a moment," Jacob said out of pain, "we cannot be finished."
Dirk looked over his shoulder at the man, raising a brow.
"You cheated, and I would like this to be completed man to man, properly. Best we handle this final bout with some fisticuffs, Dirk," Jacob continued, getting to his feet. Dirk turned around fully,
"Now how did I cheat?" Dirk's interest hummed through his words,
"In a fight between two men, it is not honorable to go for a man's bollocks.  It is also just outright rude, I do believe. It also gives an unfair advantage. So, I want a fair fight... master."  
"I must say you are wonderfully, and blindly foolhardy. I like that. Very well. Round two it is," Dirk instructed before leaping into the air, landing behind him to kick his heel into Jacob's head. He fell, his ear ringing. He rolled to his back, and then to his feet. As the pace of the song grew slow again, so did his steps. He kept moving, like Dirk, taking steps to each beat. The two vampires began to dance, walking in a circle, watching each other as if lovers dancing. Jacob then took a swing, and Dirk dodged, coming back up to let his knuckles meet with the other's jaw. Jacob took a hard hit, but the red mark on his skin soon vanished, and he swung a blow at Dirk. Again he dodged, and continued to. Jacob got brave enough to tackle Dirk, in which he succeeded taking him to the floor. Day began to bark at that. Their noses touched, Jacob panting as he looked down at him. The prince remained where he was a while, his eyes scanning Jacob's face. It was a grand mixture of something basic, yet so fascinating to gaze at. His dark, somewhat curly hair tickled the master's forehead, though he did not react. He only let the moment live while the music drifted back to tranquility. Dirk smirked, and placed a hand on the other's neck, cupping it. Jacob furrowed his thin brows,
"Close," Dirk let out a huff of pride before rolling onto his back, and launching Jacob off, and over him. The butler landed on his back, and a foot pressed on his chest.
"You will get to a higher level in due time. For now, you have done well. To be honest I never expected something as childish as a trip," he stated, kneeling down to him. Jacob looked up at him, and cleared his throat,
"I am glad you think I will improve," he smiled softly. Dirk nodded and moved to hold out his hand. Jacob took it, and pulled himself up to his feet. Dirk brushed his hair back and let out a soft titter,
"A fucking trip,"
Jacob chuckled, "aye. I did not expect it to work. A mighty strong chap like you could have easily evaded my foot."
"Excuse me? Now are you going to give me lessons on how to fight, English?" Dirk raised a brow and walked to him, slipping his hands into his pants' pockets.
"Perhaps I should," Jacob shrugged, watching Dirk sway towards him. His sweating chest swelled and dropped as he breathed.
"In the end I still won," Dirk chirped, his brow cocking as he licked his fangs. 
"For now," Jacob smiled his wide smile, showing off his two minute fangs. As he spoke, he also poked his master in the chest. Dirk quickly snatched his wrist, yanking him close. Jacob tensed, but soon relaxed as the grip was not tight. The gramophone became silent, and it was just the two men left. Dirk opened his mouth slightly. Jacob blinked, his own dry lips parting.
"I cannot wait for the day you beat me in a fight, Jacob," he said, before his head jerked to the front doors as it opened.  
Both greeted Equius with a nod, though Jacob added a flustered smile. In Equius' hand he held an envelope, tinted with the smell of Dirk's sisters' perfumes. He handed it to Dirk,
"It was the only letter received today, my prince," Equius stated before leaving. Dirk looked at the envelope, and back up at Jacob. He then turned, rushing to his study. Jacob frowned, and followed close behind him.

Brother-mine,