Chapter Text
Before the tournament
“Hey, are you joining the tournament today?”
Silver's ears perked at the mention of the swordsman’s tournament today. It was a famous tournament, known for its general openness to the public and the prize money. The silver hedgehog had been waiting for this moment all week.
Lacing his leather boots, he hurries out the barracks with his fellow knights. The sun blinded him momentarily as he followed the crowd of knights like him out into the courtyard. There's an excitement in the air, buzzing among the young knights. Today was the day; the start of the Tournament of the Fabled.
“And I heard that Bartholomew would be joining the tournament too!”
Silver's head turned towards the knights talking amongst themselves. Bartholomew would be there?
“You said Bartholomew would be there?” Silver asked, jogging to catch up with the knight who mentioned the mysterious swordsmen. He put his hand on his shoulder, bumbling into him.
The other knight, a squirrel, grumbled at Silver’s excessive touching and shrugged him off. “Yeah, and I’m gonna be the one to beat him.”
Silver pulled his hands away sheepishly, an awkward smile hanging on his lips. “Oh, you’re gonna beat him?” He asked as a raccoon, one of the squirrel’s friends slid next to him.
The squirrel, Fredric, gave him a squinted look as he scoffed at the raccoon. “Wha, ya think you’re gonna beat him?”
The hedgehog started to backtrack, holding his hands out as he stuttered. “N-No, I don’t-,”
But the raccoon to his right jostled Silver roughly, causing the hedgehog to flinch slightly at the contact. Neither Fredric or the raccoon seemed to notice though, as Fredric only laughed loudly when Silver was squished out of the group.
“Of course, you won’t be the one to beat the famous, untouchable Bartholomew!” Fredric called over his shoulder. The calloused grin on his face turned into a sneer as he continued to meet with Silver’s gaze. “Not even with the Prince’s attention on you. Don’t think you’re all that just because the Prince has taken a liking to you.”
Silver gritted his teeth as he watched the backs of Fredric’s group grow smaller, but he said nothing. The hedgehog didn’t want to cause trouble.
“Silver!” He heard from behind. The hedgehog in question cringed. He knew exactly who that voice was.
This has to be the worst timing in history.
Slowly, dutifully, Silver turned to the voice, his eyes landing on the bright blue quills bounding towards him. Because of course the prince would show up right as Silver had been called out on the attention surrounding him.
“Your highness,” Silver said in an even tone as he bowed down on one knee.
But Prince Sonic just laughed and shook his head while reaching a hang down to Silver’s shoulder. “Rise,” he told him in a friendly tone.
The Prince of Camelot, Prince Sonic, is the very embodiment of heroism. He was a symbol, one of freedom and light. Adorned in his white shoulder cape printed with the symbol of the kingdom, draped over his crisp ivory tunic and black trousers, he looked just as one of royalty should.
Silver did as told, feeling the eyes of the other knights on him as he rose up to his full stature. Their gazes burned on his skin beneath his fur and he’s sure that everyone can see just how flushed he was in that moment.
“Can I speak to you in private for a moment?” Prince Sonic asked Silver. He seemed to notice the other knights gazes on them, some curious, some mesmerized, and some even skeptical. The blue hedgehog had an amused smirk on his face as he waved at the crowd of knights, having been used to scrutinizing gazes.
Nodding, Silver followed the prince to a more secluded area of the knight’s corridors. Around the corner of the storage room filled with training dummies, wooden swords, real swords, and just training stuff in general. When Silver rounded the corner, his eyes met with sharp red ones, piercing him down to his very core.
Silver gulped, feeling cold all of a sudden. Well, Silver thought, I guess there’s a reason why he’s called the Ultimate knight.
Sir Lancelot the Hedgehog was leaned up against the back of the storage, adorned in his infamous silver armor and that equally infamous sword, Arondight, hanging on his hip. His cold glare chilled Silver down to his bones, causing him to stop in his tracks.
“What’s wrong, Silver?” Prince Sonic asked, peering around the startled hedgehog. When his round green eyes landed on Lancelot’s piercing gaze, his face fell flat. “Shadow, stop that.”
Sir Lancelot scoffed and stood his full stature, only making Silver feel even more intimidated. “I’m not doing anything,” the dark hedgehog said, rolling his eyes. “I still don’t understand why we’re here. If the king wants-,”
“Hey!” Prince Sonic cut Sir Lancelot off, stepping closer to him until he was only a few inches away from him. “Are you questioning my decisions?”
Although the Prince had said a threatening sentence, his words lacked the venom behind it. Silver watched the two hedgehogs carefully, and took note of how they acted towards one another. He thought he saw Sir Lancelot’s lips twitch, but it was so quick, he might’ve imagined it.
“No, your highness, I would never,” Sir Lacnelot replied, turning his back to the prince as he stalked away. The Prince’s eyes followed him, a smirk hanging on his lips while his hand slipped from his hip. But as the prince was about to respond, Sir Lancelot reminded him of Silver’s presence with, “Are you going to take care of what you originally came here for? Or are we going to continue wasting time?”
Silver’s eyes widened slightly, wondering why Sir Lancelot was talking so casually to the prince like this. Wouldn’t he be punished for speaking in such a casual way?
Prince Sonic startled slightly, his gaze cutting towards Silver as if he had forgotten he was there. Silver gave him an awkward grin, folding his hands in front of his chest. “Right,” the prince said, turning to face Silver fully now. “Apologies, Silver.”
Silver shook his head, about to say something when the prince continued over him. “I know you’re participating in the tournament today, so I’ll keep it short,” he paused, his green eyes flicking over Silver’s face. Behind him, Sir Lancelot resumed his lean against the shed and pierced his glare through Silver again. Silver shuddered and returned his attention to the prince.
“As you know, Sir Lance is my personal knight. But the king has been…ambitious about having another personal knight with the recent attacks on the kingdom and what not-,”
Sir Shadow turned his glare to the back of the prince’s head and muttered, “I’m more than capable of protecting the prince of our kingdom-”
“We’ve talked about this, Shadow,” Prince Sonic said, whipping his head back to glare at him.
The Ultimate knight only averted his gaze and straightened his posture. Silver’s eyes caught the way his grip tightened on Arondight, caught the tension between the two hedgehogs. “Forgive me, your highness,” he said in a formal tone, any trace of his personality gone with the mask of a knight turning his features to stone.
It was a mask Silver knew well.
The prince only sighed, but returned to the low ranking knight in front of him. “Anyway, the king won’t be watching, but he will have his board of geezers watching for potential knights to join my entourage.”
Silver nodded, piecing together what the prince was laying for him. “So, you want me to…win?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly in deep thought. “Against Bartholomew?”
Sir Lancelot bristled at the mention of Bartholomew, but said nothing. Prince Sonic only gave Silver a small huff of laughter while shaking his head. “You don’t have to win. Just show everyone what you got! I know that you’ll do great, and if you win, even better!”
The silver hedgehog felt the pressure of the prince’s words on his chest. To be a personal knight of royalty was a huge deal. And for the prince to personally seek out Silver and ask him to do his best so he could join under his wing made Silver swell with pride.
“Of course, you’re highness,” Silver said, bowing his head. His voice didn’t waver.
“I also had your name personally mentioned, so…just do great, Silver. I’d be honored to have you,” the prince said, his voice a little more gentle as he placed a hand on the hedgehog’s shoulder.
Silver looked up at the prince, his mouth parting a little. But before he could answer, Sir Lancelot stepped forward. His red, heated gaze was on the prince’s hand as he said, “Time to go, your highness.”
The young knight watched as the prince and his guard stalked off, talking in hushed tones.
Well, now I just have to win.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
“Silver the Hedgehog is the winner of this round!” the referee announced, holding up a limp gloved hand as the hedgehog in the metaphorical spotlight tried to capture his breath again.
The fight had taken more effort than Silver wanted to admit. His opponent was a fellow knight, a quiet archer. He’d seen him in the fields, riding horseback while practicing his archery. Whisper, I think his name is. He figured that winning would be easy against him, since his specialty was archery.
Boy, was he wrong.
Almost immediately, he was thrown off balance and out of the ring by a flurry of quick jabs from his side. The speed at which the wolf moved at had stunned Silver. Eventually, Silver had gotten a grip on the moves and habits the wolf showed.
Which resulted in a satisfying win for the hedgehog.
Once the ref let Silver go, he made his way to the tavern. The semi finals were coming up, so he had a little time to rest before it was his turn again. His muscles were beginning to warm up from the fight with Whisper.
Inside, he ambled his way to the bartop counter and asked for water. Silver wasn’t much of a drinker.
The next fight will be Fredric against Bartholomew. Silver wondered who would win the fight. If it would be Fredric after all, as he declared in the knight’s quarters this morning or the masked swordsmen who seemed untouchable. Silver shook his head as he secured a spot in the corner of the tavern.
He knew what Fredric was capable of, and a fight against Bartholomew wasn’t it. Sure, the squirrel was talented in his own right, but Bartholomew was in a league of his own. Silver hadn’t ever seen a fighter like that in his life.
Silver was startled out of his thoughts when he heard a roar of cheers from outside. He heard the chants of Batholomew’s name and the hedgehog smiled to himself.
With the semi finals now, he had to make sure he beat his next opponent. So he could have a chance to fight Bartholomew himself. Even if he didn’t win, he still had some things he wanted to ask him. The masked swordsman had an air about him that Silver just couldn’t quite know what to make about him. If he could just get close…
A loud bang had startled Silver out of his fur, jumping in his seat so much that some of his water had spilled from his cup. His golden eyes followed the sound and upon seeing the cause of the slammed door made Silver’s insides turn.
Fredric, his fur disheveled and his tail twitching, was pissed.
Silver quickly turned his eyesight down, hoping that he would leave him alone, but the sound of his stomps nearing revealed that the hedgehog wouldn’t be offered that much peace.
“You,” Fredric growled, slamming his gloved palms onto the table. Silver flinched ever so slightly, his grip tightening around the cup in his hands.
“What, Fredric?” Silver muttered, sinking into his seat. He kept his gaze lowered, thumbing the wooden handle of his mug.
“What? Think you’re too good to look at me?” The squirrel asked, his voice gravely. Silver peeked at him, holding his cup to his chest.
There was a fury in Fredric’s eyes as his chest rose and fell from the match. His leather gloves squeaked against the table as he tightened his grip. “You better not win.”
To that, Silver blinked. “W-what do you mean?”
Fredric only offered a glare at Silver and turned on a heel. Silver watched, stunned, as the squirrel kept muttering to himself as he ordered a drink from the bartender.
Geez, Silver thought as he accidentally set his cup in the mess he made with his water. He let himself sink into the bench again, quietly keeping to himself.
He was so in his thoughts, that he didn’t even notice the presence standing in front of his table. Silver let out a startled yelp as he looked up and met eyes with the wolf he had fought earlier.
“Oh, it’s you,” Silver breathed. “Sorry, I must be on edge today-,”
But the wolf cut him off, whispering, “Mind if I sit?”
Silver blinked, a little irritated by how much he was being spoken over today. But instead of saying no, he just shrugged and gestured to the seat in front of him.
Whisper didn’t have a drink in front of him. Silver took a moment to observe him, having not a moment before to get a close look. He noticed that Whisper had a unique visor on his helm. It only covered half his face, and looked almost like a jester's mask.
The wolf seemed to have noticed his gaze because his blue eyes cut to Silver’s golden ones. “You’re staring.”
“Sorry,” Silver said sheepishly, taking a sip of his water. It tasted metallic on his tongue. “I was wondering about your mask.”
Whisper stared at him from a second longer before flitting his eyes away. “Its just a mask.”
Silver nodded, although he felt as if that wasn’t all there was to it. Why had Whisper wanted to sit with him if he wasn’t going to say anything? The hedgehog didn’t do well with silence and often started talking to anyone that was near him. But Silver quickly let the thought go as a certain masked swordsman entered the tavern.
Bartholomew.
The room went quiet when he entered, every pair of eyes turned onto him. But it seemed like he didn’t even care as he went to the bar top. Silver couldn’t help but watch him in amazement.
I will win this next match, he thought with certainty. I have questions for the masked swordsman.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
“I want a fair and even match, boys,” the ref said, holding his hand between Silver and Bartholomew.
The famous swordsman stood before Silver. It felt unreal, like Silver wasn’t about to have a match with him. Here, in front of him, was the person he sought to be like.
“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” Bartholomew said with an easy smile. His hand was on the hilt of his unique looking sword, his fingers twitching. Silver was absolutely aware of everything happening around him.
Silver had won the semi finals. It was a fairly easy fight, to be honest. Silver knew his way around a sword, but it was almost too easy at the difficulty of his last match. It was over in almost an instant.
Perhaps, they didn’t want to fight against Bartholomew.
But Silver did. And he’d gladly take the spot to go against him.
Silver said nothing and only nodded as the ref lifted his hand and called out, “Begin!”
Bartholomew didn’t wait even a second. He darted forward, drawing his sword even quicker than Whisper had in his earlier fight. With grace and balance, he struck Silver in his side, hard enough to knock him off balance.
Silver snapped to his senses, drawing his own basic knight sword and blocked an incoming attack from the famed tournee. “I won’t hold back!” he called out, watching for an opening.
Amused, Bartholomew tilted his head as he took in the hedgehog before him. Silver gritted his teeth, feeling, once again, scrutinized under his gaze.
“So what’s your deal, huh?” Silver asked, darting forward as the tip of his sword kissed the ground. He lifted it, knowing Bartholomew would block it, and swung down in a head on attack . “What’s with animosity?”
Bartholomew’s eyes narrowed while a smirk hung on his lips, lifting his sword to meet with Silver’s. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Well, yeah,” Silver grunted, attempting to keep his balance when Bartholomew parried an attack. “That’s kind of why I asked!” the hedgehog huffed, swiping his maple leaf shaped quills out of his face.
“Well, hedgehog,” Bartholomew said easily as he lunged towards him. He clashed his sword against Silver’s leather breast plate with enough force to get him to back off. “I don’t owe you an answer now, do I?”
“Augh,” Silver grunted as he blocked another strike from Bartholomew. He was relentless with his attacks. As casually as Bartholomew had been speaking just a second ago, Silver could see that he was trying to finish this as fast as possible.
Perhaps Bartholomew was merely a performance.
The masked swordsman before him grinned before barreling back. His sword glinted in the late afternoon as soon as he tossed his sword cockily between his hands. But Silver caught the tired crinkle in the corners of his eyes.
The thing with Bartholomew was that he was ambidextrous. It didn’t matter which hand he used, there wasn’t a lesser dominant hand. Which made him a tricky opponent.
Silver’s tongue flicked between his lips to catch a drip of sweat as he took a moment to gather his surroundings. To the side, he recognized the ‘geezers,’ as Prince Sonic put it. Those few men were the king's adversaries, his closest people. Tucking that information away, Silver refocuses back on his opponent.
But before the hedgehog could even make a move, Bartholomew disarmed him and kicked him square in the chest. Any breath of air Silver had escaped his lungs in a grunt as his head connected with a hard crack against the wooden platform beneath them. A strangled grunt came from the back of his throat as Bartholomew stepped on his chest.
Silver glanced at the king’s adversaries and noticed them glancing between each other. And by the looks on their faces, it wasn’t looking too good for him. He cringed to himself, letting his head flop backwards.
This is so embarrassing.
Bartholomew leered down at him, that infuriating smirk still hanging on his lips. “So, Silver the Hedgehog, was it? Didn’t you say you weren’t holding back?”
That was it. Silver was being pushed to his limits today. Being cut off in the middle of his sentence, the pressure from the Prince, and his humiliating defeat by Bartholomew. Gripping the leather boot on his chest, he shouted, “What’s your deal? Are you taking this as a joke? Why aren’t you a knight, for Gods’ sake-,”
But Silver was cut off as the pressure on his chest deepened. He gasped when Bartholomew leaned into the step as the ref made their way over to declare him as king of the tournament. His golden eyes that were so alive and carefree earlier had hardened, a fire burning in them. Silver’s throat went dry as the questions died on his tongue.
“You have no business asking me those insolent questions, brat,” Bartholomew whispered harshly, causing Silver to flinch. “I owe you nothing.”
He watched as Bartholomew stepped off him and breezed past the ref who sputtered quickly that the masked swordsman was the winner.
Silver sat up, feeling more defeated than he had a second ago. How could that have possibly gone any worse? Now his role model hated him. Perhaps he had been too pushy with his questions.
Any frustrations that had built within him during the match had fled. He sat there, feeling the worst he had possibly felt in his life. Guilt stacked in his chest as he picked himself up from the platform. The crowd wasn’t sticking around to watch him wallow in his regrets.
To his surprise, Whisper had waited around for him at the bottom of the platform. He gave him a small nod and kept quiet as they made their way back to the knight’s quarters.
Silver was grateful for the silence for once.