Submission (#2936) Approved

Prince doesn’t know what to expect when he drags Guard out of their room, but sitting around a resort loaned chess set isn’t quite it. The gruff nin is inspecting the board like it will attack them, which Prince finds amusing, but the most the lovingly worn out board might do is gift them with a splinter. 

They’re both currently stuck on a coastal resort off the mainland of Palu’au; a much needed vacation from his father and unending litany of lessons. Guard had, quite unsurprisingly, thought the timing of the trip was terrible with Miasma season coming. And perhaps the nin was right; they were now stuck on the island, after all. Walls of dangerous smog had risen almost overnight, so Prince had pestered Guard until they secured a bird to carry a notice of absence back to his family. 

Well, regardless; what Prince wants, Prince gets. And what Prince wants is to lounge about on the sand without care, squinting against the sunlight as it bubbles through the edges of palm tree leaves. 

Even now, Prince snuffs up the scent of the sea breeze. It’s salty and deep in his sensitive nose. Sounds of waves crashing a few dozen meters from where he digs his paws in the sand provide a calming backdrop. Afternoon beach dwellers pass near them, late enough in the day that the sun is about to dip past the ocean line and push elnin back to their rooms. Better for Prince, really; time spent alone — or somewhat privately — with Guard will always be time well spent. 

A snapping noise breaks him out of his content reverie. Peering down at the board, Prince watches Guard throw two pieces at it. It seems the nin’s broken one of the chess pieces; a Queen, if he understands anything about the game correctly. Each piece, now littered across the white sand, is in the shape of a fish. Most he recognizes as local specials that can be caught off the reef on the eastern side of the island. 

“Pick up the pieces so we can set the board,” Guard huffs. From what Prince can tell, the side of the box had gotten stuck when it was opened, and Guard had to pry it open with force in order to retrieve the fishy pieces. “Yours are the blue ones, boy.”

Duty-bound as always, Prince places them back on the board. Guard scoops up his own red pieces, placing them in the correct spots for Prince to mimic on his own side. They both settle on the sand across from one another. This, at least, is familiar; looking at one another from across a table, Prince ready to learn something Guard thinks will be of value to teach him. 

Even on vacation, it seems his lessons take precedence. He sighs petulantly. Puffing out a cheek, Prince watches as Guard narrows his eyes at him. It's one thing to behave in front of him when they're within the confines of his home, but here? 

Settled out on the sunshine sands of a Palu'au resort, lofty winds ruffling their hair, and no one to recognize them, Prince has no qualms of being disobedient. The kittom relishes in the flash of Guard's eyes as Prince purposefully places a piece in the wrong spot. 

Guard's voice rumbles in his chest when he murmurs, "Place the pieces correctly, boy." 

The tropical, fishy piece goes back in its rightful place, but not without a casual smirk on Prince's part. By the time the board is fully staged, Guard seems to have lost his patience. The explanation he gives to Prince is short and terse, just a couple sentences for each part of the game. 

Most of it goes over Prince’s head. He’s too busy watching Guard’s mouth move, hair flowing in the salty wind. Something something Queen, Bishop whatever, Pawns— 

“Are you even listening?” Guard groans. Prince is fairly certain he already knows the answer. Which is, well, somewhat, but Prince doesn't think that information about chess of all things would be the one thing that sticks in his brain on vacation. Maybe the way Guard’s face looks twisted up, frustrated but fond, will stick. 

“Let’s just play this thing,” Prince answers instead. 

The game starts out slow. Guard is indulgent, prodding Prince’s pieces back in line when he plays around with them. The fishes are comical and fluorescent, and some seem to wink at him as he prods them into meaningless positions. Both nin play their pieces on the board as the sun slowly fades behind the ocean. 

Prince takes his eyes off the game. He casts his gaze across the sparkling waters, peering at the crystal clear waters. Hints of the reef poke through certain areas like outstretched hands, waiting to catch a surfing elnin unaware. Palm trees still sway above him, coconuts dangling about. It’s so calm. Prince doesn’t want to lose this peace when he goes back home.

When Prince turns his head again, Guard is watching him. Most nin have left by now. It’s practically just them. Even so, Guard’s gaze feels like the weight of a hundred. Prince moves a pawn forward. 

Looking down, Guard seems to weigh his choices. It’s probably more for show than anything else, but the nin makes a show of pondering on it. A piece moves forward. 

“My win,” Guard breathes out. “Did you want to go again?"

“It would be my pleasure, sir.”