Chapter Text
At the ripe age of 13, Ambrosious knows for sure that he has a crush on the newest of his fellow cadets. A big one, too. It's been a full year since that scrawny commoner boy broke into the Institute on their first day of training and ripped apart Todd's training dummy on screen. He didn't know it at the time, but Ambrosious fell head over heels for the determined boy.
The day after, he found out the boy's name was Ballister Boldheart, and he would be joining the Institute, training alongside Ambrosious. And their classmates but that's less important.
One week into their second year, and the same day that Ballister broke in and stole his heart, Ambrosious has finally worked up the courage to talk to him and act on his crush.
(He can't count how many times he had ran into Ballister last year, panicked, and promptly fled.)
(Yes he can, it was 17 times.)
He knows next to nothing about romance. His parents usually go out to dinner dates, but Ambrosious doesn't think him and Ballister are nearly close enough to be going anywhere together. So, with a week of research, or watching a bunch of cheesy romance movies and love songs, Ambrosious has finally decided that flowers are one of the easiest and best ways to flirt.
Immediately after lunch, the cadets have an hour of free time that they get to themselves. Ambrosious breaks away from his fellow cadets instantly, peeking around the corner to see Ballister moving towards the training grounds. He's noticed that he always goes either there or to the library during his free hour.
Knowing where he'll be able to find Ballister, Ambrosious sets off on his search. He practically sprints to the Institute's gardens, scanning each cluster of flowers he passes for one he thinks would be good enough for his amazing classmate. He doesn't recognize very many of them, but he knows specifically to ignore the roses. Not that they wouldn't be good flowers, but they haven't bloomed yet and would die quickly.
His eyes set on a single flower against a bush of large, bright pink ones. He crouches, inspecting it closer and smiling victoriously when he feels content with his find. It's a deep blue and purple flower, one of the ones that are mostly an organized cluster of petals, and it has speckles of white over the flower. Each individual petal has a thin line of gold on the outer edge, and Ambrosious allows himself to feel proud of his finding as he gently plucks the flower close to the ground. He stands up, gently grasping the flower's stem in both hands, and starts the run back to the training grounds.
Even down the hallway, he can hear Ballister training. Slowing to a walk, he sneaks around the doorway to spot Ballister on the far edge, near the training dummies lined along the wall. He's managed to drag one out further into the yard, and is wielding one of the larger, weighted swords meant for cadets at least 2 years ahead of them. The sword is longer than Ballister's torso, but he continues to expertly swing it with both hands on the handle. Ambrosious stops and watches for a minute, admiring how fluent the boy's movements are. Only after he's knocked the dummy down with an aggressive jab with the hilt and pauses does Ambrosious take a deep breath and step out around the banisters. Ballister whirls around at the first crunch of his footsteps on the dirt.
Ambrosious almost wants to flee again under that intense and suspicious gaze, hidden by a curtain of dark hair. Ballister is only a few months younger than Ambrosious himself, but he's still significantly shorter and thinner. Despite his shorter stature, the one wide, brown eye that has pinned the golden boy to his place is threatening, daring him to step closer.
Ambrosious forces his legs to move closer.
"Um. Hi. Ballister? I-I'm Ambrosious, um, sorry for. Intruding? Interrupting your- your training. You're really good by the way, I haven't seen someone be able to swing those swords without falling yet but- sorry, sorry I'm getting sidetracked, um, I found this flower for you and- and I was wondering if-"
"Put that down."
Ambrosious' confidence and heart drops through the ground at the harsh tone, and he draws the offered flower closer to himself.
"Right, right, sorry, um, we barely even know each other, of course you wouldn't-"
"Put that down. Don't you know what you're holding?"
His stumbling stops, a bit stunned by the new urgency in that sharp eye and accented voice.
"What?"
"That's nightroot, dummy, put it down!"
"What- what does nightroot do?!"
"It's poisonous!! Drop the flower!!"
Ambrosious panics at that and flings his hands out to the side, flower dropping to the ground in between them. Now that the nervousness has vanished, he can feel his hands beginning to itch violently. He quickly brings his right hand to his left and starts scratching trying to remove the feeling.
"No, don't scratch it, you'll make it worse! Here- stop scratching, let me see it!"
Small, dark hands grab his wrists to pull his hands apart, then slide up to cup the backs of his own hands. He jerks his head up to see Ballister staring down at the burns intently, calculating.
"Jeez, how long were you holding that? We need to get you to the nurse, you need cream for that."
Before Ambrosious can answer, Ballister grips his elbow and begins leading him through the winding hallways of the Institute. His heart jumps a bit realizing that Ballister looks like his own knight, pulling him towards safety. Ambrosious himself is just in his uniform, bag left in his next class. Ballister, though, is donning the training armor required when using any weapon on the training grounds. The too-big sword is sheathed on his hip, barely missing skimming the ground as they walk. He can hear Ballister muttering under his breath about nightroot and how to treat it, repeating it like he's trying to ingrain it into both their heads. In a daze, Ambrosious doesn't even realize they've gotten to the nurse until Ballister releases his arm.
He turns sharply to look at him, relaxing when he just goes to sit in a chair next to the door. He's moved the sword to lean on the wall next to him, and Ambrosious meets his concerned gaze before his attention is pulled away by the nurse.
"Where on Earth did you manage to find nightroot? Gloreth, your poor hands are so red. Tell me if this hurts, alright?"
He winces as she takes a swab and rubs a treatment cream over his palms.
"This should have it heal mostly overnight, but take it easy today. No holding heavy objects and try to keep your hands to yourself."
"Thank you, ma'am, I'll make sure to be careful."
She nods and has him answer a few more questions before giving him a note so he can avoid training later today. Gently pocketing the note, he notices that Ballister isn't in the chair anymore. Dejected, he exists the nurse's office with his head down.
"You alright?"
Ambrosious isn't quite able to stop the startled shriek from escaping, jumping back and tripping over his own feet. A small, slightly familiar hand, grabs his wrist and saves him from his fall. He stares up stunned at Ballister, watching him with the same concerned and focused eye as before. Slowly, he pulls Ambrosious back into standing, looking up at him as he lets go of his wrist.
"Uh."
"You okay? Didn't pick up any other poisonous plants and mess with your head, right?"
"Oh- no, no, I'm okay. Just irritated my hands, can't pick up a sword today for training."
"Oh, that sucks."
"A bit, yeah."
"You wanna walk to class? We have the same one next, don't we?"
"Oh, sure! Yeah, I think we do."
"Good. And I can make sure you don't pick up any other possibly dangerous plants or objects on the way."
"Wh- hey!"
Ballister laughs, and oh wow Ambrosious is going to try his hardest to make him laugh again. It's as lovely as his voice is.
"Fine. I suppose you can guard me from my own dumbness."
"You'll need it."
Ballister holds his right hand out, then falters and blushes slightly.
"Um. I'm Ballister."
"I know. I'm Ambrosious."
Ballister smiles up at him.
"I know."
"Sorry about. Trying to give you a poisonous flower."
Ballister shrugs, left hand planting on the hilt of the sword on his hip.
"It's not the worst that's happened. Honestly kind of sweet. Do... Do you want to be friends?"
Ambrosious smiles widely, glee filling him. It might not be exactly what he wanted, but he'll happily take Ballister as a friend nonetheless.