Work Text:
The latest disaster was crochet.
Or whatever's the name of the ridiculous craft Reinhard had recently taken up.
When Felt first suggested he try needlework, she didn't expect him to actually listen. The idea came mostly from watching him spend hours on tending to flowers. This made her realize he somehow became a person who enjoyed hobbies. So, half as a joke, she challenged him to make something from scratch.
Naturally, he took it seriously.
One day, she found him sitting in a manor's lounge with skeins of yarn spread neatly across the table. In his hands rested an unfinished miniature of a land dragon.
Felt stopped in the doorway and stared in disbelief.
"You gotta be kidding me."
The knight looked up from his work.
"Is something troubling you, Lady Felt?"
As she approached him, the girl pointed at the tiny woolen creature.
"What is that?" she asked accusatory.
"A dragon."
"Yeah, I got eyes." She folded her arms. "How's it actually good?"
Reinhard examined the little figure, turning it over thoughtfully. The crimson land dragon had a pale underbelly, tiny horns, and a stubby tail that was only half finished.
"It still needs work," he humbly commented.
Felt would disagree. Its tiny horns were slightly crooked. One leg looked a little longer than the others. But somehow it still resembled Romy. Which was really annoying. Reinhard should not be allowed to be good at yet another thing. There had to be limits, surely?
She leaned closer, scrutinizing the stitches for any flaws she could exploit. The Sword Saint couldn't possibly possess the Divine Protection of Crocheting. That would be ridiculous.
Although, with Reinhard, one could never be entirely certain.
"Ha!” she exclaimed triumphantly. “You dropped a stitch."
Leaning over the back of his chair, she reached to point it out. In the process, she ended up pressed lightly against his back, one cheek nearly level with his. Partly because she wanted a better look. Mostly because she knew it used to catch him off guard.
Slowly, Reinhard lowered his gaze to where she was pointing. For a brief instant, his shoulders stiffened. But then, just as quickly, he relaxed again.
"Yes. You are correct. Thank you for noticing."
He simply picked up his hook again and resumed working. As though Felt hovering over his shoulder was the most natural thing in the world.
She narrowed her eyes. This was another failure. A few months ago, that would've earned her a startled glance, maybe even a flustered comment. And now? Nothing. The bastard had adapted.
"– This is getting ridiculous."
Felt straightened up and placed both hands on Reinhard’s shoulders. He looked up.
"What is?"
"You."
"That does not clarify matters, I'm afraid."
With an exaggerated huff, she rested her chin on top of his head. Entirely because she expected it to annoy him. However, Reinhard merely adjusted the yarn, so it wouldn't snag.
"You’re making this difficult."
"I wasn't aware I was participating in anything."
"Ugh!"
There had to be something. Anything he wasn't naturally prepared for. Every time she discovered a new way to catch him off guard, it stopped working after a while. First, it was grabbing his hand and poking his chest, then patting his back, leaning against him. Initially, every one of those things made his eyes widen, lips part, body go rigid with surprise. Now, he simply accepted them.
Which was even more frustrating.
In silence, Felt watched as he continued what she interrupted. The dragon's tail slowly took shape beneath his fingers. She sighed dramatically.
"Fine! The battle's yours."
Reinhard tilted his head. "There was a battle?"
"Don't get cocky." She pinched his earlobe and turned towards the door. "The war's still on."
Without another word, she left the room. Behind her, the knight looked down at the tiny Romy in his hands. After a long moment, he smiled to himself.
"I wonder what the war is about."