Kell was just about to say that getting into fights in bars is a time honored tradition for all princes. Nothing gets the stress out of your system like a good bar brawl. No amount of sparring with the guards could compare.
Wilhelm's reaction turns him serious in an instant. He knows the feeling all too well. Even a year after anything similar could happen to him or Rhy, he still gets the chills at the memory.
"A spectacle. An object. An achievement to score."
He looks Wilhelm straight into eye. There's a set to his jaw that tells of countless times of withheld fury. The bones he did not break, the hearts he did not rip, and all those that he did.
"You were right to react."
Kell shakes his head slowly. He's actually mad at Wilhelm's parents. They should have protected him from such situations. Not blame him for trying to protect himself where they failed. They should have stood behind him, teach him how to deal with it himself or have someone who would do this for him. Kell trained from his earliest age to be someone like this for Rhy.
"I've broken quite a few arms, shins and fingers, on people who tried to touch Rhy inappropriately. You should have had someone like me. It's wrong that you didn't. Nobody has the right to touch you if you don't allow it or how you don't allow it. Whoever doesn't understand such a simple rule, just forfeited the right to keep their bones intact."
Kell says all this in a calm and serious tone. Like it's the most obvious thing in the word. Because it is. It should be. He dragged Wilhelm to have fun and relax, but this is too important topic to just let it slide.
"Would you like to learn how to disarm someone that makes them look not dangerous but stupid? So they won't ever try touching you again in fear you'd make a laughing stock of them again?"
Gossip and ridicule are excellent weapons when you know how to wield them.
It feels good, to have someone else validate the anger everyone else says you should keep punched down small. He thinks again of Erik, who was always in his corner, even when he was wrong. Plucking a blade of grass, he twists it in his fingers.
"Mom and dad weren't so impressed..."
They definitely hadn't thought that he handled it the right way. He wasn't supposed to be out partying at clubs anyway. Wrong place, wrong time, wrong company, wrong son. Sometimes Wilhelm misses them anyway, but he loves his freedom better. Despite everything, he thinks of what he has here as freedom.
Kell scoffs, waving his hand dismissively. Seriously, he can't understand why this was such a big deal. If anything, they should be happy their heir is able to stand his ground.
"And they should have been. You weren't causing an international incident. You punched a guy who was getting handsy. Maybe you shouldn't have been there at all, but you were. And you dealt with a situation the best you were able to. I do wonder if they would have you politely apologize if this was a foreign assassin trying to take you down, and not a guy being too friendly."
Kell grins. This is his second set of skills. He's an Antari first, but he was trained to be the heir to the throne and future king's protector. He hated the context, the way he was basically raised to do it, but he never hated the role itself. Nor the skills that he learned with it.
"I'll give the worst, but also the right answer, only because you're smart. It depends." And before Wilhelm rolls his eyes at him for such an obvious non-answer, he continues. "Let's say you're dealing with an average bully. Not really a bandit, or anyone even remotely trained. There are few things more humiliating than getting dragged down by your ear. Most people have spatial awareness of what's going on with their body concentrated in front of them. A lot less with the sides. So it's easier to grab them from the side. Especially, if you're looking straight at them. If they're trying to intimidate you, they wouldn't want to be the one to look away first. So you can use this to your advantage. Work wonders on people with earrings."
Those were the first and the most obvious things that came to his mind, but Kell wonders if Wilhelm was ever even taught how to protect himself. Or allowed to fight dirty.
"I could teach you a few more tricks if you like."
"I headbutted him," Wilhelm corrects. Looking back, it's kind of funny that that was his first instinct. What the fuck was he thinking?
He only learned how to defend himself when Kyle offered to teach him here. He feels good about the progress that he's made since then, though he's always fighting off the feeling that it's never enough. That brawl in the night club would go very differently, he thinks, if he could get a rematch now. He wouldn't be leaving with a shiner this time.
Though he's received formal training for some months now, he's interested in the alternative perspective Kell has to offer, tips and tricks picked up in bars and back alleys. Especially in the shadow of their ordeal in the pit, he'll take anything that could bolster his meager arsenal. So he listens, and he absorbs, and he grabs for more.
How did he miss such an important piece of information before?! Who would have thought that a timid princeling like Wilhelm has can be so viciously fierce to headbutt a guy. Kell sincerely hopes the creep lost a tooth or two.
"Wille, you rascal! This is brilliant!" he laughs. He wishes he could have seen this. The look on the other guy's face must have been priceless. "Well, well, so you do have some fire in you after all."
"Why the hell indeed," Kell replies with a wicked grin. "I think you are going to do just fine, just keep that attitude."
Like it or not, Kell just put himself in charge of making sure that whenever some moron as much as looks at Wilhelm funny, they'd have reasons to regret their lack of manners. Kell has no reservations against imparting the knowledge acquired during his illicit escapades on Wilhelm. If only that means that the younger prince feels a bit more secure, a bit more confident about himself, it's already worth it. But Kell has a more selfish reason for helping. Whatever boosts Wilhelm's confidence will, eventually, help him better control his magic too. It makes all the sense now that Wilhelm's chosen element is fire. He has so much of it, and yet it is so deeply buried and restricted, that no wonder it explodes whenever it finds a crack.
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no subject
Wilhelm's reaction turns him serious in an instant. He knows the feeling all too well. Even a year after anything similar could happen to him or Rhy, he still gets the chills at the memory.
"A spectacle. An object. An achievement to score."
He looks Wilhelm straight into eye. There's a set to his jaw that tells of countless times of withheld fury. The bones he did not break, the hearts he did not rip, and all those that he did.
"You were right to react."
Kell shakes his head slowly. He's actually mad at Wilhelm's parents. They should have protected him from such situations. Not blame him for trying to protect himself where they failed. They should have stood behind him, teach him how to deal with it himself or have someone who would do this for him. Kell trained from his earliest age to be someone like this for Rhy.
"I've broken quite a few arms, shins and fingers, on people who tried to touch Rhy inappropriately. You should have had someone like me. It's wrong that you didn't. Nobody has the right to touch you if you don't allow it or how you don't allow it. Whoever doesn't understand such a simple rule, just forfeited the right to keep their bones intact."
Kell says all this in a calm and serious tone. Like it's the most obvious thing in the word. Because it is. It should be. He dragged Wilhelm to have fun and relax, but this is too important topic to just let it slide.
"Would you like to learn how to disarm someone that makes them look not dangerous but stupid? So they won't ever try touching you again in fear you'd make a laughing stock of them again?"
Gossip and ridicule are excellent weapons when you know how to wield them.
no subject
"Mom and dad weren't so impressed..."
They definitely hadn't thought that he handled it the right way. He wasn't supposed to be out partying at clubs anyway. Wrong place, wrong time, wrong company, wrong son. Sometimes Wilhelm misses them anyway, but he loves his freedom better. Despite everything, he thinks of what he has here as freedom.
"Yeah, how?" He leans in attentively.
no subject
"And they should have been. You weren't causing an international incident. You punched a guy who was getting handsy. Maybe you shouldn't have been there at all, but you were. And you dealt with a situation the best you were able to. I do wonder if they would have you politely apologize if this was a foreign assassin trying to take you down, and not a guy being too friendly."
Kell grins. This is his second set of skills. He's an Antari first, but he was trained to be the heir to the throne and future king's protector. He hated the context, the way he was basically raised to do it, but he never hated the role itself. Nor the skills that he learned with it.
"I'll give the worst, but also the right answer, only because you're smart. It depends." And before Wilhelm rolls his eyes at him for such an obvious non-answer, he continues. "Let's say you're dealing with an average bully. Not really a bandit, or anyone even remotely trained. There are few things more humiliating than getting dragged down by your ear. Most people have spatial awareness of what's going on with their body concentrated in front of them. A lot less with the sides. So it's easier to grab them from the side. Especially, if you're looking straight at them. If they're trying to intimidate you, they wouldn't want to be the one to look away first. So you can use this to your advantage. Work wonders on people with earrings."
Those were the first and the most obvious things that came to his mind, but Kell wonders if Wilhelm was ever even taught how to protect himself. Or allowed to fight dirty.
"I could teach you a few more tricks if you like."
no subject
He only learned how to defend himself when Kyle offered to teach him here. He feels good about the progress that he's made since then, though he's always fighting off the feeling that it's never enough. That brawl in the night club would go very differently, he thinks, if he could get a rematch now. He wouldn't be leaving with a shiner this time.
Though he's received formal training for some months now, he's interested in the alternative perspective Kell has to offer, tips and tricks picked up in bars and back alleys. Especially in the shadow of their ordeal in the pit, he'll take anything that could bolster his meager arsenal. So he listens, and he absorbs, and he grabs for more.
"Sure, why the hell not?"
no subject
"Wille, you rascal! This is brilliant!" he laughs. He wishes he could have seen this. The look on the other guy's face must have been priceless. "Well, well, so you do have some fire in you after all."
"Why the hell indeed," Kell replies with a wicked grin. "I think you are going to do just fine, just keep that attitude."
Like it or not, Kell just put himself in charge of making sure that whenever some moron as much as looks at Wilhelm funny, they'd have reasons to regret their lack of manners. Kell has no reservations against imparting the knowledge acquired during his illicit escapades on Wilhelm. If only that means that the younger prince feels a bit more secure, a bit more confident about himself, it's already worth it. But Kell has a more selfish reason for helping. Whatever boosts Wilhelm's confidence will, eventually, help him better control his magic too. It makes all the sense now that Wilhelm's chosen element is fire. He has so much of it, and yet it is so deeply buried and restricted, that no wonder it explodes whenever it finds a crack.