Once a Traitor (Black Knight, Douglas/Richard)
Title: Once a Traitor
Fandom: Black Knight - Douglas Hyde/Richard
Author: kirikiri aka misura
Recipient: Dark Magnolia aka alice_montrose
Rating: PG-13 at most
Warnings: pre-main-story and potentially AU, based in large parts on The Golden Age, the prequel-ish sidestory in volume two of the manga.
Summary: Three scenes from the life of Douglas Hyde.
AN: The request was for 'anything', so it ended in a toss between Douglas/Richard and Stephan/William, since those were the pairings I figured I'd like to write best (also since my other BK-request focused on Chris & co.).) Time-wise, this ficlet falls apart in three parts: two before The Golden Age and one shortly after it.
[Dundalk]
x
"You will not change your mind, then? Nothing I just said makes any difference?"
"No, sire." Douglas Hyde lifted his head and stared at the man who had once bestowed the title of White Knight upon his father. He liked to think his father would have approved of his actions now, or if not, at least understood. Who could know the minds of the dead, though?
When he'd inherited the title and first arrived at court, Douglas certainly hadn't been able to imagine any circumstance under which he'd leave it willingly - leaving both his title and his souvereign for another person, and a condemned traitor at that, for all that nobody would openly speak of the prince as that. Amiens was as certain as a death-penalty though, or it /would/ have been, for a sixteen-year-old who had never faced battle alone, without a more experienced commander to advise him.
Douglas hoped his presence would make a difference. Perhaps it was his pride speaking, but then, even if he was wrong, at least he would die with honor, knowing he'd done everything in his power to save the young prince he'd come to think of as someone who deserved his respect and support.
The court was not kind to those who'd fallen out of royal favor, innocent or not; Douglas knew that the evidence, while shaky and anything but conclusive, had counted for little with most courtiers. Prince Aradenall's star had fallen and his elder brother's star was rising - that was all there was to it, and the court had shifted its sympathies accordingly. In a sense, this exile to Amiens was a kindness, a chance for a death on the battlefield. It was the kind of death Douglas might have wished for himself, had he been given a choice.
Of course, he might not be. Kings might wish for their sons to die heroically, rather than be executed in public on suspicion of treason, but this dubious courtesy was not commonly extended to mere dukes, be they White Knights or not. In fact, /especially/ White Knights should not count on any leniency in matters of treason, and Douglas well knew that he had taken a great gamble in openly declaring that he would join Prince Aradenall on his journey to Amiens.
"Damn you, Douglas, why must you be so stubborn?"
"I do not believe his highness the prince is guilty of treason." That was what it came down to, always. Belief. Trust. Faith. Douglas was betting his honour on his belief in Prince Aradenall's innocence, and his life on his trust in the king's fairness. "And Amiens is a hard place."
To claim that he, with his personal troops to boost the royal troops already there, might win a victory where defeat was not only feared but actually expected would be arrogant. It might not have stopped a less honorable man, but Douglas respected his king enough to assume he realized this, to count on him seeing all the possibilities. There was a chance here - a slim one, but a chance nonetheless.
"You'll be missed."
Douglas bowed, recognizing a victory and a dismissal when he heard one.
"Thank you, your majesty."
People whispered as he strode past them, not meeting his gaze, even if he felt their eyes on him as he passed. News traveled quickly, it seemed. Douglas allowed himself a grim smile as he halted in front of prince Aradenall's rooms, requesting one of the guards to announce his presence.
x
[Amiens]
x
"You don't like me very much, do you?"
Douglas halted, turned slowly and made sure to keep his expression utterly neutral as he faced the man who might have saved both his and Aradenall's life, not to mention that of their soldiers. Might have - because thanks to this man's actions, they'd never find out if honor and courage might not have been enough. Douglas resented him for that as much as for the simple fact of what he was.
A mercenary, who fought for money, rather than ideals or honor or even (like most of the soldiers here) for his king and country. That alone would have been bad enough, but this man hadn't even remained loyal to those who'd paid him, instead switching sides in the heat of battle. That in doing so, he'd turned the tide and guaranteed Aradenall's victory made little difference to Douglas.
"I would not say that," Douglas replied stiffly.
"No, but that's just because you're stuffed full of good manners." Richard grinned, making a movement like he wanted to slap Douglas' shoulder but thought better of it at the last moment. "I swear, if I hadn't seen you in battle, I'd have said you belonged at a court or behind a fancy desk, not out here."
Douglas didn't think he needed to dignify that statement with an answer. Especially not to inform Richard that, in Douglas' opinion, the man belonged in a ditch or a sewer.
"How about you join me for a drink so we can talk about our plans for the future?" Richard proposed, with a brightness that made Douglas suspect he'd been drinking.
"I politely decline," Douglas said. "Now, if you'll excuse me - "
"No, I don't," Richard told him. "You're coming with me, and we're going to figure out just what nice things you and that prince of yours are going to do with me and my men. I've got one or two ideas myself, but ... well, you're the boss. The customer's king, as they say."
"As your former employers were," sneered Douglas, before he could stop himself.
Richard blinked. "What?"
"I don't think much of a man who sells his loyalty to the highest bidder, and then sells it again when a more lucrative opportunity comes along." Douglas supposed he might as well get this out in the clear now, and make it clear that Richard needn't expect any shows of gratitude and friendship from /him/. Prince Aradenall might see no harm in it - and Douglas would not openly criticize the prince's choice in friends, but he saw no reason to be more than civil to this man. Doubtless, he'd turn traitor on them as soon as someone offered him a large enough sum of money. Douglas was surprised Aradenall had been able to bribe him in the first place - as far as he was aware, they were woefully short of funds and had been so from the beginning of this campaign.
"I wouldn't think much of that kind of guy either - and I'm a mercenary, so I know what the life of a mercenary's like." This time Richard did slap him on the shoulder, pretending not to notice the way Douglas stiffened. "Which reminds me: you really need to get some money in that treasury of yours. My men aren't going to be happy when they find out I've been a little less than honest about the pay they're going to get from your prince."
Douglas reluctantly allowed Richard to drag him along in the direction of Aradenall's tent. "What do you mean? Didn't Prince Aradenall pay you - "
"Not a copper, I'm afraid," Richard cut him off, grinning.
"But then why did you switch sides?" Douglas demanded.
Richard halted in fron of Aradenall's tent, shrugged and replied: "Because he asked me nicely, I guess."
"You - "
"Richard! Doug! Come on in!" Aradenall's eyes were as bright as Richard's, Douglas noted absently. Maybe they'd been drinking together. "I just got a great idea for what to do about our money-problems - you're going to love this one, Doug."
Or maybe, Douglas reflected, he was getting old, and they were still young.
x
[Plymouth}
x
Some people might say that Douglas was married to his work, and had been so for the better part of his life. Douglas supposed they'd have a point, although he himself prefered to think of himself as a man who had placed honor and loyalty above everything, rather than something so paltry and bleak as 'work'.
Only Aradenall and Richard still called him by his old title - the White Knight - ignoring Douglas' half-hearted protests. The White Knight had been a servant of the Dundalk Empire; he had no place serving the king of Aran. And yet, in a vague way, it pleased him. Douglas didn't feel anything he'd done was undeserving of a man wearing such a lofty title - his honor was as impeccable now as it had been seven years ago, and Douglas took comfort in that fact.
Richard's somehow having acquired the title of Black Knight amused him as much as it had initially annoyed Richard, before Aradenall had pointed out to him how he should think of it as people putting him in the same league as Douglas. The White Knight and the Black Knight. Douglas shook his head. Trust Aradenall to come up with something so ... childish and yet appealing.
Still, Aradenall had been proven right about Richard, and Douglas had been proven wrong, and gladly so. It was hard now, to imagine he'd ever not trusted Richard to be as loyal to Aradenall as he himself was. Hard to imagine they'd ever /not/ been friends, and had even fought at different sides in a war.
They'd done well, Douglas decided. They'd done more than well, and received the typical reward for a job well done - more work. Or at least Douglas had; Richard seemed to have developed a knack for avoiding work together with slightly more polished manners and a taste for expensive wine. Ah well. Richard did at least have the courtesy not to try to delegate his work to Douglas, knowing that Douglas was overworked as it was, and, like Aradenall, Richard was good at finding the right persons for a job that needed doing. Richard's aversion to what he referred to as 'boring paperwork' was also much like Aradenall - Douglas had grown too used to both of them by now to really want them to change.
Let them spend their time enjoying themselves, if they wanted - as long as they didn't shirk their duties and responsibilities, Douglas felt he shouldn't complain too much.
"Doug, my man, we need you!"
Not even when they walked into his office without so much as a knock on the door, and with expressions on their faces that promised an evening spent far away from desks and paperwork.
"I am, as always, at your disposal, your majesty."
Richard scowled, but over time he, too, had grown more formal, at least in public.
"Good, good. Did I tell you I'll be a father soon?"
Douglas looked up, met Richard's gaze, smiled. "Yes, your majesty. You have mentioned that ... several times now." A son would be best - an heir to the kingdom. A daughter might be useful, politically speaking, but Douglas didn't think a man who had, against all odds, married for both love and country, would agree to let any child of his be used as a pawn in the political game. "Is that why you came to see me?" If it was, he'd give Richard a piece of his mind later.
"No, of course not. I know you're busy with ... paperwork." Aradenall pronounced the word like it left a bad taste in his mouth. "You're pretty much /always/ busy with that. Richard thinks so, too. And so we were wondering ... "
Aradenall was, Douglas realized, a little drunk - either still or again, and either on wine or on sheer exhilaration. In any other man, Douglas would take it as a sign of weakness.
"You were wondering?" he prompted, for the moment completely at a loss. Richard's grin made it clear that he did know what was going on, and wasn't about to spill the beans and spoil things.
"We were wondering how long it'd been since you'd held a sword." Aradenall nodded. "Because we may need your sword again soon."
Not so drunk then; not drunk enough not to realize that a male heir would also mean that any faction in Dundalk that was still hoping for Aradenall to die without a heir, after which Aran could be retaken with a minimum of effort, would change their tune. As long as Aradenall remained without offspring, Dundalk could afford to wait and hope for one of their assassins to succeed.
"I'm fairly sure I can still wipe the floor with either of you." No 'your majesty' now - a knight had to know when to be informal, too, and right now, Aradenall needed a friend more than a loyal servant.
"That sounds like a challenge to me." Richard looked almost relieved.
"It does indeed." Aradenall beamed at both of them. "All right then, let's see if Doug here really hasn't gotten rusty after all those months behind a desk."
x
"He'll be a good father," Richard said, much later, reclining on Douglas' bed like he belonged there. Douglas would have commented on that, had Richard not been careful to remove his boots first, and hadn't Douglas been feeling twice as old as he was. Perhaps Aradenall and Richard had been right. Perhaps he /was/ letting himself get a little rusty. "Albeit a doting one."
Then again, he'd kept his word. He /had/ wiped the floor with both Richard and Aradenall, and if he'd been hard pressed by them a few times, who but himself needed to know?
"Yes, he will." Douglas prayed it wouldn't break Aradenall. Children were so vulnerable - to more things than a good pair of men could defend them from. Women could /die/ from birthing a child, too.
"And you'll be too busy worrying to enjoy being an uncle."
"Someone around here needs to worry." Aradenall never did - he could be concerned, on occasion, but life had blessed him with good fortune, good men like Richard, and true love. It was hardly surprising then, that Aradenall tended to be optimistic and carefree.
"Well, okay, how about /I/ worry about tonight, and /you/ just pretend everything's fine for a couple of hours?" Richard proposed.
Douglas removed his own boots. "What's there for you to worry about tonight?"
Aradenall knew, of course - had known in Amiens, when they'd first done this, and claimed to have known that it would happen even earlier. Douglas had been worried after that first time, knowing well that not all people would take a relationship like theirs in stride. He knew his honor might have been stained then, if Aradenall had given him a choice between leaving, abandoning his lord, or staying and forsaking the unspoken promises he'd made to Richard. Nobody else's opinion mattered to Douglas.
Nowadays, he rarely even worried about Richard getting killed anymore.
"I'm worried that I'm not going to get any sleep." Richard yawned. "Y'see, I'm pretty worn out after some brute beat me up, and now I really want some shut-eye, but my lover's a selfish jerk who's just - "
"A brute?" Douglas suggested.
"I would not say that," Richard said, smiling. It took Douglas a few moments to remember why.
"Sleep, then. There will be other nights." Douglas unbuttoned his shirt.
"I guess there will be. Fancy that." Richard chuckled. "Does that mean I can come and drag you off to bed when you're working late and I'm feeling lonely?"
"Only if you can beat me in a duel first."
Fandom: Black Knight - Douglas Hyde/Richard
Author: kirikiri aka misura
Recipient: Dark Magnolia aka alice_montrose
Rating: PG-13 at most
Warnings: pre-main-story and potentially AU, based in large parts on The Golden Age, the prequel-ish sidestory in volume two of the manga.
Summary: Three scenes from the life of Douglas Hyde.
AN: The request was for 'anything', so it ended in a toss between Douglas/Richard and Stephan/William, since those were the pairings I figured I'd like to write best (also since my other BK-request focused on Chris & co.).) Time-wise, this ficlet falls apart in three parts: two before The Golden Age and one shortly after it.
[Dundalk]
x
"You will not change your mind, then? Nothing I just said makes any difference?"
"No, sire." Douglas Hyde lifted his head and stared at the man who had once bestowed the title of White Knight upon his father. He liked to think his father would have approved of his actions now, or if not, at least understood. Who could know the minds of the dead, though?
When he'd inherited the title and first arrived at court, Douglas certainly hadn't been able to imagine any circumstance under which he'd leave it willingly - leaving both his title and his souvereign for another person, and a condemned traitor at that, for all that nobody would openly speak of the prince as that. Amiens was as certain as a death-penalty though, or it /would/ have been, for a sixteen-year-old who had never faced battle alone, without a more experienced commander to advise him.
Douglas hoped his presence would make a difference. Perhaps it was his pride speaking, but then, even if he was wrong, at least he would die with honor, knowing he'd done everything in his power to save the young prince he'd come to think of as someone who deserved his respect and support.
The court was not kind to those who'd fallen out of royal favor, innocent or not; Douglas knew that the evidence, while shaky and anything but conclusive, had counted for little with most courtiers. Prince Aradenall's star had fallen and his elder brother's star was rising - that was all there was to it, and the court had shifted its sympathies accordingly. In a sense, this exile to Amiens was a kindness, a chance for a death on the battlefield. It was the kind of death Douglas might have wished for himself, had he been given a choice.
Of course, he might not be. Kings might wish for their sons to die heroically, rather than be executed in public on suspicion of treason, but this dubious courtesy was not commonly extended to mere dukes, be they White Knights or not. In fact, /especially/ White Knights should not count on any leniency in matters of treason, and Douglas well knew that he had taken a great gamble in openly declaring that he would join Prince Aradenall on his journey to Amiens.
"Damn you, Douglas, why must you be so stubborn?"
"I do not believe his highness the prince is guilty of treason." That was what it came down to, always. Belief. Trust. Faith. Douglas was betting his honour on his belief in Prince Aradenall's innocence, and his life on his trust in the king's fairness. "And Amiens is a hard place."
To claim that he, with his personal troops to boost the royal troops already there, might win a victory where defeat was not only feared but actually expected would be arrogant. It might not have stopped a less honorable man, but Douglas respected his king enough to assume he realized this, to count on him seeing all the possibilities. There was a chance here - a slim one, but a chance nonetheless.
"You'll be missed."
Douglas bowed, recognizing a victory and a dismissal when he heard one.
"Thank you, your majesty."
People whispered as he strode past them, not meeting his gaze, even if he felt their eyes on him as he passed. News traveled quickly, it seemed. Douglas allowed himself a grim smile as he halted in front of prince Aradenall's rooms, requesting one of the guards to announce his presence.
x
[Amiens]
x
"You don't like me very much, do you?"
Douglas halted, turned slowly and made sure to keep his expression utterly neutral as he faced the man who might have saved both his and Aradenall's life, not to mention that of their soldiers. Might have - because thanks to this man's actions, they'd never find out if honor and courage might not have been enough. Douglas resented him for that as much as for the simple fact of what he was.
A mercenary, who fought for money, rather than ideals or honor or even (like most of the soldiers here) for his king and country. That alone would have been bad enough, but this man hadn't even remained loyal to those who'd paid him, instead switching sides in the heat of battle. That in doing so, he'd turned the tide and guaranteed Aradenall's victory made little difference to Douglas.
"I would not say that," Douglas replied stiffly.
"No, but that's just because you're stuffed full of good manners." Richard grinned, making a movement like he wanted to slap Douglas' shoulder but thought better of it at the last moment. "I swear, if I hadn't seen you in battle, I'd have said you belonged at a court or behind a fancy desk, not out here."
Douglas didn't think he needed to dignify that statement with an answer. Especially not to inform Richard that, in Douglas' opinion, the man belonged in a ditch or a sewer.
"How about you join me for a drink so we can talk about our plans for the future?" Richard proposed, with a brightness that made Douglas suspect he'd been drinking.
"I politely decline," Douglas said. "Now, if you'll excuse me - "
"No, I don't," Richard told him. "You're coming with me, and we're going to figure out just what nice things you and that prince of yours are going to do with me and my men. I've got one or two ideas myself, but ... well, you're the boss. The customer's king, as they say."
"As your former employers were," sneered Douglas, before he could stop himself.
Richard blinked. "What?"
"I don't think much of a man who sells his loyalty to the highest bidder, and then sells it again when a more lucrative opportunity comes along." Douglas supposed he might as well get this out in the clear now, and make it clear that Richard needn't expect any shows of gratitude and friendship from /him/. Prince Aradenall might see no harm in it - and Douglas would not openly criticize the prince's choice in friends, but he saw no reason to be more than civil to this man. Doubtless, he'd turn traitor on them as soon as someone offered him a large enough sum of money. Douglas was surprised Aradenall had been able to bribe him in the first place - as far as he was aware, they were woefully short of funds and had been so from the beginning of this campaign.
"I wouldn't think much of that kind of guy either - and I'm a mercenary, so I know what the life of a mercenary's like." This time Richard did slap him on the shoulder, pretending not to notice the way Douglas stiffened. "Which reminds me: you really need to get some money in that treasury of yours. My men aren't going to be happy when they find out I've been a little less than honest about the pay they're going to get from your prince."
Douglas reluctantly allowed Richard to drag him along in the direction of Aradenall's tent. "What do you mean? Didn't Prince Aradenall pay you - "
"Not a copper, I'm afraid," Richard cut him off, grinning.
"But then why did you switch sides?" Douglas demanded.
Richard halted in fron of Aradenall's tent, shrugged and replied: "Because he asked me nicely, I guess."
"You - "
"Richard! Doug! Come on in!" Aradenall's eyes were as bright as Richard's, Douglas noted absently. Maybe they'd been drinking together. "I just got a great idea for what to do about our money-problems - you're going to love this one, Doug."
Or maybe, Douglas reflected, he was getting old, and they were still young.
x
[Plymouth}
x
Some people might say that Douglas was married to his work, and had been so for the better part of his life. Douglas supposed they'd have a point, although he himself prefered to think of himself as a man who had placed honor and loyalty above everything, rather than something so paltry and bleak as 'work'.
Only Aradenall and Richard still called him by his old title - the White Knight - ignoring Douglas' half-hearted protests. The White Knight had been a servant of the Dundalk Empire; he had no place serving the king of Aran. And yet, in a vague way, it pleased him. Douglas didn't feel anything he'd done was undeserving of a man wearing such a lofty title - his honor was as impeccable now as it had been seven years ago, and Douglas took comfort in that fact.
Richard's somehow having acquired the title of Black Knight amused him as much as it had initially annoyed Richard, before Aradenall had pointed out to him how he should think of it as people putting him in the same league as Douglas. The White Knight and the Black Knight. Douglas shook his head. Trust Aradenall to come up with something so ... childish and yet appealing.
Still, Aradenall had been proven right about Richard, and Douglas had been proven wrong, and gladly so. It was hard now, to imagine he'd ever not trusted Richard to be as loyal to Aradenall as he himself was. Hard to imagine they'd ever /not/ been friends, and had even fought at different sides in a war.
They'd done well, Douglas decided. They'd done more than well, and received the typical reward for a job well done - more work. Or at least Douglas had; Richard seemed to have developed a knack for avoiding work together with slightly more polished manners and a taste for expensive wine. Ah well. Richard did at least have the courtesy not to try to delegate his work to Douglas, knowing that Douglas was overworked as it was, and, like Aradenall, Richard was good at finding the right persons for a job that needed doing. Richard's aversion to what he referred to as 'boring paperwork' was also much like Aradenall - Douglas had grown too used to both of them by now to really want them to change.
Let them spend their time enjoying themselves, if they wanted - as long as they didn't shirk their duties and responsibilities, Douglas felt he shouldn't complain too much.
"Doug, my man, we need you!"
Not even when they walked into his office without so much as a knock on the door, and with expressions on their faces that promised an evening spent far away from desks and paperwork.
"I am, as always, at your disposal, your majesty."
Richard scowled, but over time he, too, had grown more formal, at least in public.
"Good, good. Did I tell you I'll be a father soon?"
Douglas looked up, met Richard's gaze, smiled. "Yes, your majesty. You have mentioned that ... several times now." A son would be best - an heir to the kingdom. A daughter might be useful, politically speaking, but Douglas didn't think a man who had, against all odds, married for both love and country, would agree to let any child of his be used as a pawn in the political game. "Is that why you came to see me?" If it was, he'd give Richard a piece of his mind later.
"No, of course not. I know you're busy with ... paperwork." Aradenall pronounced the word like it left a bad taste in his mouth. "You're pretty much /always/ busy with that. Richard thinks so, too. And so we were wondering ... "
Aradenall was, Douglas realized, a little drunk - either still or again, and either on wine or on sheer exhilaration. In any other man, Douglas would take it as a sign of weakness.
"You were wondering?" he prompted, for the moment completely at a loss. Richard's grin made it clear that he did know what was going on, and wasn't about to spill the beans and spoil things.
"We were wondering how long it'd been since you'd held a sword." Aradenall nodded. "Because we may need your sword again soon."
Not so drunk then; not drunk enough not to realize that a male heir would also mean that any faction in Dundalk that was still hoping for Aradenall to die without a heir, after which Aran could be retaken with a minimum of effort, would change their tune. As long as Aradenall remained without offspring, Dundalk could afford to wait and hope for one of their assassins to succeed.
"I'm fairly sure I can still wipe the floor with either of you." No 'your majesty' now - a knight had to know when to be informal, too, and right now, Aradenall needed a friend more than a loyal servant.
"That sounds like a challenge to me." Richard looked almost relieved.
"It does indeed." Aradenall beamed at both of them. "All right then, let's see if Doug here really hasn't gotten rusty after all those months behind a desk."
x
"He'll be a good father," Richard said, much later, reclining on Douglas' bed like he belonged there. Douglas would have commented on that, had Richard not been careful to remove his boots first, and hadn't Douglas been feeling twice as old as he was. Perhaps Aradenall and Richard had been right. Perhaps he /was/ letting himself get a little rusty. "Albeit a doting one."
Then again, he'd kept his word. He /had/ wiped the floor with both Richard and Aradenall, and if he'd been hard pressed by them a few times, who but himself needed to know?
"Yes, he will." Douglas prayed it wouldn't break Aradenall. Children were so vulnerable - to more things than a good pair of men could defend them from. Women could /die/ from birthing a child, too.
"And you'll be too busy worrying to enjoy being an uncle."
"Someone around here needs to worry." Aradenall never did - he could be concerned, on occasion, but life had blessed him with good fortune, good men like Richard, and true love. It was hardly surprising then, that Aradenall tended to be optimistic and carefree.
"Well, okay, how about /I/ worry about tonight, and /you/ just pretend everything's fine for a couple of hours?" Richard proposed.
Douglas removed his own boots. "What's there for you to worry about tonight?"
Aradenall knew, of course - had known in Amiens, when they'd first done this, and claimed to have known that it would happen even earlier. Douglas had been worried after that first time, knowing well that not all people would take a relationship like theirs in stride. He knew his honor might have been stained then, if Aradenall had given him a choice between leaving, abandoning his lord, or staying and forsaking the unspoken promises he'd made to Richard. Nobody else's opinion mattered to Douglas.
Nowadays, he rarely even worried about Richard getting killed anymore.
"I'm worried that I'm not going to get any sleep." Richard yawned. "Y'see, I'm pretty worn out after some brute beat me up, and now I really want some shut-eye, but my lover's a selfish jerk who's just - "
"A brute?" Douglas suggested.
"I would not say that," Richard said, smiling. It took Douglas a few moments to remember why.
"Sleep, then. There will be other nights." Douglas unbuttoned his shirt.
"I guess there will be. Fancy that." Richard chuckled. "Does that mean I can come and drag you off to bed when you're working late and I'm feeling lonely?"
"Only if you can beat me in a duel first."