Chapter Text
Walking into his tent and setting aside his cup of tea, Jeralt picked up the latest mission report and sighed.
This was the third time he sent a group of men to capture this damn "King of Grappling" and it's the third time they've come back empty handed. Well, empty handed if you don't count the four body bags.
He was sick and tired of wasting money, time, and, most importantly, good men trying to collect the bounty on the Kings head. Just as he began to contemplate paying His Highness a personal visit, he felt a light tap on his thigh.
"You're it"
Jeralt glanced downwards and. Oh. It's the girl. After she and her brother went fishing in the local lake that morning he hadn't expected to see her until sundown.
He bent down to be eye level with the now 7 year old girl.
"Hey there little lady. I'm.....what, exactly?"
She placed her (adorable) hand atop his head and repeated, "it."
"I'm afraid I'm still not sure what 'it' is, kiddo. I know talking can be a burden sometimes but even I need you to use your words sometimes okay?"
She nodded but Jeralt could tell from the small, nigh imperceptible lines along her brow that Byleth was quite irritated. "I saw some kids playing this thing called 'tag' in town and wanted to play with you"
While he didn't show it, Jeralt felt a sudden burst of love and care shoot through him. His detached, apathetic little girl wanted to play a game? And with him???. He would have embraced her right there had he not picked up on a little detail.
"Hold that thought, kiddo. You said 'I' but I think you meant 'we'"
With a smug smile on his face, Jeralt straightened up, walked over to the little bed he had set up in the tent, reached under it, and pulled Byleth's brother, Byleth, from under it. Held up by the collar, the poor boy looked like a dejected cat.
Jeralt had, of course, known he was there the entire time. Ever since meeting that group of assassin's months earlier, Byleth (the boy one that is) became obsessed with surprising his father and would often hide in adorably obvious places like this one. Recently, he'd even begun enlisting the help of his sister to serve as a distraction.
"Nice try kids but you gotta get up a whole early if you wanna pull one over on me"
After being set back on the ground, both Byleth's wondered aloud, in unison, "But how did you-"
"It reeked of fish the moment I stepped in here" he said with a fond chuckle. "Smell can be just as conspicuous as sight, buddy"
Nodding in acknowledgement, Byleth made a point to ignore his sister as she leaned in to get a sniff, recoiling a bit when she had her fill. Jeralt had no doubt his son wouldn't make the mistake again, he was a ridiculously fast learner. They both were.
"Now that that's all sorted out, about this game you two want to play. How come you didn't just join the village kids? Why me?"
The boy spoke up first "we did but those guys suck at it" as blunt as ever.
His sister continued "they were all much too slow and clumsy for us. We need somebody that can keep up, and is skilled enough to stay away" as observant as ever.
"Alright then, just tell me the rules and I'll do my best to follow along"
Not even two minutes later and they were set to go. Jeralt knew It'd be an easy win. His kids were skilled for their age sure but they were still two seven year olds. Highly trained, extremely fit seven years olds but seven year olds nonetheless. It had been a while since Jeralt's last mission, and he's sure all his training between missions has maintained his stamina.
"One more thing before we start, kiddos. Whoever I catch first has to use a kid weapon during the next training session"
There. That'll prevent any teamwork. Jeralt knew the twins hated, cheap, wooden swords like that. It really made them feel like the children that they were.
After a few warm up stretches Jeralt looked at his kids and said "Ok. Ready. Set. G- hey cmon!". They were gone before he even got to "set"
Dashing through the mercenary camp, Jeralt may have underestimated just how many people he'd have to weave and bob through. While he was certainly faster, his kids had years of experience when it came to running through the camp like madmen. They expertly ducked and spun around mercs milling about. Meanwhile, Jeralt, there fearless leader, felt like he had bumped into every Joe and Sarah in the camp by the time he was on his eighth "sorry".
Luckily, his mercs caught on quick and began to make way. As Jeralt began to close the distance between himself and his little nightmares, he couldn't help but wonder why they bothered to stick together if there was no reason to work together. He soon got his answer when the boy, ahead of his sister, grabbed hold of a barrel of throwing axes and tipped it over, blocking her path with sharp, dangerous, weapons.
"HEY! BYLETH! NO PLAYING WITH THE-"
Jeralt was left speechless as his little girl proceeded to do a front flip over the barrel of axes and continued on running. Jeralt, of course, possessing none of her grace had to do a simple, clumsy hop, over the barrel to keep on their tails.
Now leaving the mercenary camp, the twins made their way into the adjacent forest. With no more bodies or barrels in the way, Jeralt was less than three feet behind the both of them. Reaching his hand out for the collar of the girls shirt, he was promptly interrupted when she grabbed a nearby tree branch, pulled it for half a second, and then let it go to promptly smack him in the face with it.
While not enough to make him stop, the pain certainly slowed Jeralt down enough to be an annoyance.
Now a safe distance away from her father, the girl had enough space to cast a small fire spell. While not skilled or powerful enough to cast more than a small ember, a small ember was all she needed. Firing off a small streak of flaming energy, she guided her projectile into the eyesight of her brother. She knew it wasn't strong enough to actually burn him but it was certainly bright enough to blind him, if only for a moment.
Tripping over an unseen vine on the ground, the boy met the entirely-too-smug eyes of his sister for a moment as she vaulted over him and (in his opinion) left him for dead. While Jeralt didn't like the idea of Byleth using her untrained magic so close to the face if her brother, he was secretly grateful for it, if only so he could end this tiring little "game" that much quicker.
As he drew closer for the finishing touch however, Jeralt could hear quiet whimpering. Uh oh. Whimpering like that was the closest either of his kids ever got to crying. Perhaps the magic in conjunction with the fall really did a number on Byleth's face.
He slowed his step as he drew near "Hey, buddy you ok? Let me see". As Byleth began to turn his head, however, Jeralt could see him pick something up off the ground. Something white and round and-
"DAMMIT" was the only word Jeralt could get out before he was swiping dandelion fluff out of his eyes and mouth. Crafty little bastard. He wasn't going on any fishing trips for the next month just for that.
When Jeralt could use his eyes again he could see his kids making their way out if the forest and towards a nearby town. Sothis how long have they been running?
Nearing the town fence, a child around the same age as them, took notice of the Eisner family and greeted them in the only way he knew how.
"Greeting travelers! Anything to report?"
The poor little Fencekeeper's query would go unanswered as all three Eisner's dashed past him with animal-like focus on their faces.
Jeralt was thoroughly tired at this point and decided to stop treating his prey like the cute kids they were, and more like shitty clients who tried to run before he got his pay. Just as well, his kids ran into a bar not two seconds later.
Once inside the twins instantly took a snapshot of their surroundings and planned the best course of action, just as Jeralt had taught them. The girl ran towards the back wall, hopping into a chair, running over two tables, and diving through an open window. Since great minds think alike, the boy followed suit by jumping and sliding across the bar counter before diving through the same window.
What neither of them expected, was to land in the loving, extremely tired, arms of their father.
Jeralt, knowing neither of his kids would bother trying to find and open the back door, circled the building in search of a window rather than following them inside. Once he found it, it was a simple task to simply wait for them to dive into their doom.
"HAH! Gotcha yah little rascals!"
Panting and squirming in his arms, while neither laughed, Jeralt could tell from their expressions that the twins had a gay old time making him run around The Alliance like some kind of wild horse. It took them a while to calm down and catch their respective breathes before Jeralt sat them both down in his lap
"This was fun and all kiddos but don't ever ask me to play tag with you two again yeah? I can't move like I used to"
The girl smiled and turned to her brother "Dad says he's too old for this shit"
"Hey! Language! Even if it is true" Jeralt couldn't suppress his chuckle towards the end.
Suddenly, the easy smile that had found it's way on the boy's face dissapeared, and he looked up into the eyes of his father. "For the record, you caught her first. She has to use the lame sword tomorrow" he said, deadly serious.
"Huh. Yknow honestly I had almost forgotten about that"
His sister reached out to smack his arm but the boy was too quick, somehow having enough energy to leap from Jeralt's lap and jog a few paces away. Her irritation at her brother only growing, the girl grabbed a nearby stick, yelled "traitor!", and gave chase. The boy "I'm not a traitor. You're just a loser" a small smile gracing his features once more.
Even if his lungs were on fire, watching his children chase each other, he hardly even noticed. He had never done anything like this with them before. It wasn't for training purposes, or a lesson on survival, just basic fun. The feeling of easy joy wasn't one he felt often, but with those two around, he knew he'd have to get used to it.