In Blood Only

Raske Estate
Norway


Silas moved along the path from the house, gaze taking in the familiar surroundings of his childhood home. Few places were as grand as the Raske estate, as far as he was concerned. The manor itself was regally crafted, the gardens and yard surrounding it meticulously kept. Orchards and greenhouses, pastures and fields - everything was perfectly suited to the living of wealthy landowners. Which, the Raskes were wealthy landowners.

They also happened to be bounty hunters, though, unknown to the world at large. The upbringing of the children had been almost militant, as it had been for generations. Even those children who didn't become hunters themselves were more than equipped to hold their own, both in magical and muggle fights.

The Raskes, his grandfather once put it, were trained to conquer as much of the world as they wanted.

Silas thought a bit of an over-exaggeration, really, but certainly felt well-equipped to face most any he might encounter. As he turned a corner in the path, he looked up as he spotted movement in the corner of his eye. His mouth thinned into a hard line.

"Caius," he said without stopping. His tone wasn't necessarily welcoming. "Brother. I hear you have a lady friend."

"Silas," Cai returned, moving to fall in-step beside his older sibling. He did not miss the vague chill in the man's tone. It was not exactly a foreign tone for his brother to take with him.

"Indeed I do," he confirmed. "A lovely woman - bit older than myself. I'm sure you'll approve of that." He gave a wry smile.

Caius turned to study his brother as they walked, so familiar with the winding paths that he needn't pay attention to where he was going to easily keep his feet. His brother was the same as always, although, there might have been a new burn scar behind his right ear.

He had always looked up to the older Raske. For as long as he could remember, Cai also aspired to be just as brave and gifted as his brother. He had always wanted to make him proud. Well, that had never really panned out. Silas was a hard man; he'd been just as hard as a teen, maybe even as a child.

Speaking of which...

"Flora tells me you adopted a child," he remarked conversationally. "The niece of your betrothed, no less. I know mother never managed to arrange a match for you. I admit I found the news surprising all around."

The minute hesitation in Silas' step was so brief that most people would not have noticed. It would not be lost on Caius, of course; Caius was a Raske and Raskes missed nothing. However, it was doubtful his brother would put the proper meaning to the action, which filled Silas with satisfaction.

Any proof of his brother's fallibility filled Silas with satisfaction.

Silas did not hate his brother, but it was a very near thing. Long had he detested his sibling's inborn capability. Possessing hyperkineticism was cheating. Caius wasn't skilled, he was predisposed to athleticism. No matter what Silas achieved, Caius had never had to work as hard or as long as he did and Silas begrudged him for it. Everything Caius could do was the sheer luck of genetic inheritance.

It didn't help that everyone - everyone - seemed to think his younger brother was perfect. Caius possessed unparalleled hand/eye coordination, perfect balance, sharp reflexes. He was likable, just the perfect blend of amiable and shy, and many seemed to find him attractive.

What made it worst of all was that, deep down, even Silas thought Caius was perfect. If only the man was more flawed, perhaps then Silas would detest him less.

"I did, as a matter of fact," Silas answered smoothly, turning to take the path that led to the training grounds. "Charming child. Very smart. My betrothed is also remarkable. One of a kind.

"And what of your little 'surprise'? I don't suppose mother and father have met your... friend."

Cai did note the minute falter in his brother's pace, but did not ask about it. He would not have received an answer, anyway.

"I doubt you would allow yourself to be in any way attached to someone who wasn't," he replied easily. Of course Silas would go for a woman he deemed in some way remarkable. Caius knew his brother well enough to know that love and emotions would have no part in his union with another.

Noting the direction they were heading and not the least bit surprised that his brother would take them that direction, Cai casually placed his hands in his pockets. He gave a sheepish grin. "No, they haven't," he answered. He made no remark on his brother's choice of phrasing, nor the slightly condescending tone with which he addressed him. "Although, as I understand it, they have yet to meet your betrothed as well. Flora is already very fond of your daughter, however. Cordelia, isn't it? I do believe our sister is just short of worshiping the child."

"Flora is worshipful of most things she deems small and cute," Silas remarked. He did not state that he had grown rather fond of the child himself. Frankly, it was none of his brother's business. Besides, such sentimental declarations were better suited to the younger man than himself.

As they reached the training arena, Silas turned to face his brother. He gave him a smirk. "How about it, Caius?" he queried casually. "Shall we spar? Surely, your time as groundsman has not left you too out of practice to face your own brother?"

"That is true," Caius agreed with a laugh.

He was unsurprised by his brother's challenge - such contests between them were not wholly uncommon. It was also not uncommon for Silas to be the one to initiate them. Caius returned the smirk.

"We both know I haven't just been groundskeeping," he stated. "I like to think I'm as good as ever."

Silas scoffed at him and fell into starting position. Cai did the same. And then they lunged at each other.

Blow for blow, they met one another's strikes. Silas had improved since the last time they had fought, but so had Cai. It wasn't long before he could tell that his elder sibling was growing frustrated at being unable to land a solid hit. And angry. Caius knew he had to be on his guard. When he got like this, Silas always--

And that was when it happened. He was caught off-guard as his brother spun completely away, stretching out at a hand as he dropped into a crouch. Too late did Caius realize he had cast a wandless nonverbal spells.

The heavy wooden staff had knocked his feet from beneath him almost before he connected the pain to its source. A split-second later, and it slammed across his collar with a solid thwack, speeding his fall to the ground. Soon, Cai lay on the packed soil, gasping in shock and pain as Silas pinned him with the staff across his shoulders.

"Ag - gah..." Caius vocalized inarticulately. "Off! You won. Fuck, Si. Ouch."

Caius had no business holding his own against him. The younger man had gotten ridiculously good, even though he had been more than capable before. If he improved much more, Silas would have a hard time keeping up with him.

Were Silas honest with himself, the only real advantage he had over his brother was that Caius had a habit of sticking to the rules. Granted, they had not actually agreed that they wouldn't use weapons, but Caius had mistakenly believed this to be the unspoken consensus - just as Silas knew he would. Was it cheating? Perhaps, but Silas found it more important to win at any cost. And Cai always had had an unfair advantage.

Pushing against the staff as he levered himself back to his feet, Silas smirked down at his younger sibling. "Same as always, I see, Caius," he remarked. "Better luck next time, brother."

Silas sauntered casually away, stopping to return the staff to its place before he left. He'd won, but somehow, he still wasn't completely satisfied. Caius was still too perfect, even when he lost.

Pressing that bloody staff against his bruising collar was wholly uncalled for, by Caius' estimation. Then again, Silas had long mastered the art of being an ass when he wanted to be. As his brother left, Caius brought up a hand to gingerly brush his sore collar. Yep. He could feel the bruising there - and on the back of his calves.

"Bastard," Caius muttered to him, turning his head in time to see Silas go around a bend in the path. He grimaced. He may have been the world's sorest loser, but Silas usually reserved the pain infliction for when he was already angry.

Which begged the question, why was Silas pissed at him, this time? Caius had no idea. He hadn't even seen the man in months.

Groaning, he rolled to his side and pushed himself to his feet. With a final incredulous look after his brother, Caius turned to limp off the opposite direction - which was quite the chore considering both his calves were spasming painfully.

"Fuck this," he gritted out after a few excruciating steps. Turning, Caius apparated away to the house. He'd floo home from there.