Notes: silly drabble, but I thought it might be fun to write so...

Disclaimer: The boys do not belong to me unfortunately. I make no profit from this.

The Deciding Battle

Breathing heavily, the battle-induced sweat beginning to dry on his naked torso, Darc pulled himself to his feet and shot his brother a side-long glance. The two of them had been practicing their swordsmanship all afternoon and both were beginning to look slightly the worse for wear. While Kharg possessed superior skill with a sword due to the fact that he had been trained to use one from a young age, as was only befitting of a member of the former royal family, their constant practice meant that Darc was becoming more proficient every day and so far they had both won four rounds.

'Let's make the next round the deciding battle,' Darc suggested. He was starting to get hungry after the day's exertions and wanted to head back into Yewbell before long.

'You're on,' His brother replied, standing up and brushing the grass from his shorts.

'I think we should make this round a bit more interesting, though,' Darc gave his twin a sly glance in order to ascertain whether he had peaked his brother's interest.

'More interesting?' Kharg questioned, taking the bait.

'Yes. I think there should be a forfeit for losing the battle. Whoever looses this round...has to wear Paulette's underwear under their clothes for the rest of the day,' the half-Drakyr smirked.

'Ha! Are you sure you want to do that? You know I'm going to beat you,' Kharg grinned in return and took a step towards his brother.

'We'll see,' the darker twin replied, retrieving his sword.

'Right then, let's do this,' the blond announced, drawing his own weapon.

With a cry, Darc launched himself at his brother, slashing down fiercely with his blade. Kharg bought his own sword upwards in a swooping arc, deflecting the blow and forcing his brother back. Unfazed, Darc continued his attack with renewed vigour, moving so quickly that his weapon was nothing but a metallic blur, meaning his twin had to be extra vigilant in order to avoid each blow.

The darker twin bought his blade down furiously, intending for it to slash across his brother's body, only to be met with the strong steel of the blond man's sword as he bought it up quickly in defence. As the two of them pushed fiercely against each other, Darc noticed his twin begin to give ground, Kharg having begun to tire with the effort of defending himself against the ferocity of the half-deimos' attacks.

Recognising this, Darc put all his remaining energy into the push of his blade causing Kharg to fall backwards, his weapon flying from his grip as he went down. The darker twin moved to stand over him, his sword pointed at his brother's throat and a triumphant grin plastered across his face.

'You really are improving,' Kharg panted, accepting the hand that Darc held out to him and pulling himself to his feet.

'Unfortunately for you,' Darc smirked, giving his brother a meaningful look.

'Oh come on,' Kharg smiled warily, 'you can't be serious about what you said before.'

'Of course I was,' the darker twin grinned evilly, slinging his arm around his brother's shoulders and beginning to forcefully lead him back in the direction of Yewbell, 'and I'm betting that girls panties really suit you.'

Darc watched with amusement as his brother bought his hand up to his face in exasperated defeat. The half-deimos burst out laughing, already imagining the hilarious sight of his brother wearing his childhood friend's underwear. He quickened their pace, thoroughly looking forward to their return to Yewbell.