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By now Xar knew most of Bodkin’s nervous habits.
The warrior boy was neurotic and skittish most of the time.
He would close his eyes, take a breath and tell Wish something was not a good idea.
“Listen princess...” he would say trough trembling lips, followed by a quotation from one of his books.
Every time, Xar wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him thoroughly.
Xar couldn’t understand why Wish liked Bodkin so much.
Wish was courageous and friendly. Bodkin only reminded her of the rules.
Worse still, he reminded Xar of the rules too.
At first Xar thought of him as nothing but a nuisance that kept him from his adventures and slowed them down.
One time they encountered a rogrebreath, it wasn’t even aggressive, but Bodkin’s already pale face went even paler, and the warrior boy just fell over.
Wish had caught him, and they lay Bodkin down with a concerned sigh.
It took ten minutes for him to regain consciousness.
Warriors have no priorities, he’d thought.
Their maths would not help them survive in the forest.
Maybe that was why they cut it down.
The change had happened gradually.
A peek over his shoulder to see if Bodkin did not fall behind. Standing a little closer to him in case he would faint.
Small things that grew over time.
The third time they’d passed a wandering rogrebreath, he had stepped in front of Bodkin with his dagger drawn.
Wish had caught Bodkin again, and he had received an ugly scratch on his shoulder because the rogrebreath was not too fond of his knife.
Bodkin had been the one to patch him up.
His trained bodyguard fingers wrapped bandages faster than he had ever seen. (Of course he had good grades in first-aiding as well.)
The warrior boy softly scolded him the entire time.
That evening, he sat down next Bodkin during dinner and felt torn between making him laugh and making him angry.
In truth he wanted a reaction besides fear or irritation.
Looter would brag about all the girls who were in awe of his magic skills, usually followed by a jab and a jeer about his lack of said skills.
Xar wondered why Looter never spoke about impressing boys.
Shouldn’t a great leader like him be worshipped by EVERYONE?
What good was being a boy of destiny if other boys did not admire him?
Wish was already impressed by him, and he was secretly very impressed by her.
Bodkin, on the other hand, was not.
Bodkin would look over his vertical hair and ragged fur coat, and comment on the dangerous side of his plans with one sardonic eyebrow raised.
It annoyed him more than he was willing to admit.
Bodkin got promoted to assistant bodyguard because he was good. Bodkin did not have broken fingernails or unknown tears in his shirt.
Bodkin’s parents were proud of him.
A prim and proper warrior, exactly as he should be.
That was what irked Xar the most.
It was as if his father’s disappointment followed him in the form of that underweight warrior.
A living, human reminder of what he was not.
Quiet.
Mature.
Patient.
Studious.
Obedient.
Good.
Bodkin, with his large blue eyes that anxiously flitted back and forth, and cheeks that turned red at the mention of certain words, was every single one of these things.
The boy he should be.
Perhaps it was the fact that he could never be that kind of boy.
He was of the hopeless kind, the kind that made brash decisions and came home with a bloodied lip and blackened eye.
He said the words that made boys like Bodkin uncomfortable. Trickery and profanity rolled from his tongue far too easily.
It made him want to squeeze the anxiety and good-ness out of the warrior boy.
Xar wanted to shove him into the dirt and ruffle his hair so he would finally match Wish and him.
He wanted to shut his trembling lips.
Initially he imagined a blow of his fist would suffice, but lately he came to see Bodkin would never appreciate him like that.
He wanted Bodkin to be his friend.
Xar wanted to impress him.