Work Text:
She first met him in the hallways of Rhodes' landship, all stoic and poised while he held a cane on his hand as he walked around, carrying himself with the grace that one would normally see in that of a King's. Well, she supposes that despite not being of royalty himself, he can indeed pass off as one. She noticed the way his eyes would scan over his conversation partner, lips parted as he said something and Verna thinks that it's actually a charismatic sight.
Though, she didn't notice that she was on his way, standing dumbstruck at his visage while her tail flicked left to right before settling down. "My apologies, can you move out of the way?" His deep voice broke her out of her trance, Verna tensing at how it sounded so cool and raspy.
"Y-yes, sorry." She quickly apologized by then, still gazing at those silver eyes full of wonder at who she might be.
She finds out that he calls himself SilverAsh a while later.
They made a strange pair, the two of them. A runaway royalty of Victoria and the one who perhaps holds the most legitimate claim to its Throne while he was the top of the food chain in the cold mountains of Kjerag, single handedly rivaling that of the power which his own sister holds as the Priestess.
Though, perhaps that while they may be strange, they made a good picture perfect appearance when with each other.
It began with frequent invites to have coffee, by the empty tables in the edge of the landship which the morning sun can shine over and the night sky can watch over. She didn't like coffee, nor did she appreciate tea, they never suited her tastes and he noticed that fact. Always, he'd ask her questions of her preferences, in between harmless smiles and safe conversations and then she'd find her favorite cake on the table that they share a day after.
He was a good person, Verna knew that fact. Busy as he may be (the two of them only meet during the lazy mornings or in the deep of the night, unaccompanied by their own entourage so they only have each other), he did express himself quite clearly during their times together and that was something she really appreciated. She wasn't one for initiating conversations either, so she was glad that he was perceptive enough to take the lead for the both of them.
"What do you think of the winter, Miss Siege?" He asked one day, a gloved finger holding a spoon which he's using to stir his cup of coffee (black, as he liked it to keep him awake amidst the restless mornings, he tells her).
"I think I'd love to see the winter come." She answers, a fork in hand as she sliced down on the strawberry cake that he had offered her for the morning.
He smiled at her answer.
Verna thinks he should smile more.
The winter was cold, she huffs from under the layer of scarves she had wrapped around her neck while she stood out of the comforts of her warm room, and to the balcony which stood taller than the noble looking houses which decorated the streets of Victoria.
It's been awhile since she had taken up the crown, the other contestants having given it up to her (the two full dracos and the former Leader of Reunion wanting to live a quiet life somewhere), and she had no choice but to accept lest Victoria gets plunged into an era of darkness for not having a clear ruler. Rhodes had long let her go, knowing that she was finally in the place where she belonged.
Indra and the members of Glasglow gang can still be seen prancing about the dark alleyways, she'd sometimes meet up with them in the quiet of the night as Gawain's scoldings of her not supposed to be running away from the castle rang loudly while they all ran and gave chase to each other, laughter soon filling up the quiet streets as Verna returns to her room by the time the sun has risen, her other attendants oblivious that their master had just returned from playing around.
Though, there were nights in which Siege would just climb up at the parapets, when the breeze wasn't too cold and she wouldn't need layers upon layers of clothing just to resist the cold.
These were the nights in which she'd be plagued by the thoughts of silver eyes and sweet cake, thoughts of gloved hands against her cheeks as they brushed away whatever icing had gotten to it this time. And these were the nights in which she'll tilt her head upwards to the starry skies, the moon shining on beside them.
These were the nights in which Verna would think of SilverAsh, and of the hundreds of words she wanted to say to him but failed as their time together ran out.
Enciodas wasn't a poet, but if he were to describe when he met Verna, it would be akin to flowers blooming in spring, the sun rising in the horizons to bring about a brand new day.
He first met her when she was standing in the middle of the hallways, metal walls surrounding the two of them as he bid off Courier for him to send away paperworks back to Kjerag.
She was a beauty, even clad in clothing unbefitting of her real identity as the runaway princess of Victoria. Of course he'd know the truth, his vast network of knowledge allowed him to do so but when he thought that she'll be just another person that will not be tangled up in his world—
He found out he was terribly wrong as she watch her face morph into that of embarrassment, pink dusting her cheeks as she apologized for dozing off and being on the way when in truth, Enciodas don't mind.
She's, by Cliffheart's words, adorable after all.
He doesn't really know just when it happened, him beginning to form feelings for the younger feline, that is. All he knew was that she would look quite good in white, a finger decorated in a ring made of ice that would never meet.
"Brother is lovesick then!" Cliffheart told him, a cheeky smile on her face as she twirled about in his office, laughing as she watched him become astonished at her words before realizing that,
Yes.
It seems that he is, indeed, in love with one particular feline by the name of Verna.
Cliffheart laughed even more at how his expression became that of realization, a light blush dusting his cheeks as a smile unconsciously appeared on his face at the thought of being with Verna, covering his face with a gloved hand as he reached out for a simple decorated pen that shone in silver and gold colors that the lioness had given him after saying that it reminded her of him, ignoring the fact that the pen itself was gilded in design, twirling it about carefully.
Perhaps his feelings of affection can be reciprocated after all.
"I didn't know you were close enough to Operator Siege to come here and demand for an explanation, Sir Silverash."
Eyes narrowed at the lynx before him, a huff left his lips. "I am not, but I am merely curious as to why exactly had the situation become like this." He told her, tone cold and controlled as was proper when dealing with Kal'tsit because she can see every little detail that even the sharpest of hunters would miss and Silverash wouldn't want to show any weakness, any vulnerabilities , to her.
"And that is to your concern, because?" She hums, lifting her cup to her lips as calculating feline eyes meet Silverash's, not wavering at all under the heavy glare that the Kjerag warlord was shooting at her. "I do not see why you must get worked up over a matter you hardly are involved in. Unless Kjerag has plans against Victoria? Because if so, I advise you not to—"
"Nothing of sorts." Dismissed Silverash, waving her and her ridiculous assumptions off. "If you are unable to answer me then very well, I will seek somebody else for answers." He continued, finality in his tone as he turned heels towards the metallic door.
"Silverash."
He stopped.
Kal'tsit sighed from behind the table. "It was her own choice. And she told me she was ready. I simply helped her, as I had promised."
That was simply bullshit. Silverash knows for a fact that there are other things factored in for Verna to make that decision. But alas. He can't do anything.
Defeated for the first time in years, Silverash pursed his lips and said nothing else, the sound of his boots clacking against the metal floor filling the void and gaps that Siege left in him with her departure from Rhodes Island with no guarantee of a meeting in the future.
There are times when Silverash would let himself be cloaked in snow, standing in the middle of his balcony on one snowy night.
There are times when Silverash would close his eyes right then and there, the cold barely bothering him at all for he was born in the harsh environment of the ice mountains.
There are times when Silverash would simply think of Verna.
He doesn't beat around the bush when it comes to himself, but the regret that washed over him after only realizing that their time already ran out didn't do anything to soothe him.
Really, Silverash is grateful that at least here in the mountains of Kjerag, nothing that reminds him of Siege could be found. Nothing here would remind him of his aching heart yearning to see the other once more.
But deep inside, Silverash regrets.
He regrets in the same way every time he has to hold himself back from reaching out to Pramanix. He regrets in the same way he would hesitate when meeting Cliffheart for he knew that had it not been for him, she wouldn't be afflicted with oripathy. He regrets and regrets and regrets.
He regrets that he kept the small trinkets and letters that Verna gave him under the light of the moon whenever they talk of what happened in their day. Because they're the sole reminder of Verna and the time they spent together.
Silverash hated the winter and how nothing outside of his office would remind him of Verna.
A story like theirs didn't need to have a bad ending.
"Sir Silverash."
"Your Majesty."
However, it seems that the world isn't as cruel as the two had initially thought, meeting once again in what Silverash assumed would be another meeting regarding the partnership that his company had made with another Victorian company.
He hadn't expected that Verna herself would attend a simple gathering, having expected for a stand-in or someone else to come and oversee because this partnership is indeed for both country to benefit
But he knows that he should be grateful.
"It's been a while." He started, giving a bow full of respect and recognition towards the young royalty who stiffened and nodded in return. "I hope you have been well, Your Majesty."
This wasn't exactly the place for the two of them to catch up with each other, as evident with how whisperings and mutterings already sprung from all around them, all wondering as to how exactly are the Warlord of Kjerag and the Heiress of Victoria acquainted with each other, already think of what is the extent of their relationship but Silverash is as clever as he is gentlemanly.
He easily dismissed the inappropriate conversations taking place around them with a simple kiss to the back of the feline's hand, "I'd love to talk to you more, but work comes first." He smoothly said, feeling the small parchment of paper he had slid to his hand holding Verna's be taken away by the other.
The nobles that accompanied Verna were obviously displeased with how rude Silverash sounded but his power isn't something they can rival and unless Verna expresses discomfort, then they are forced to stand aside. And they were aware of how proud he was anyways, so it was pointless.
Verna smiled brightly (an improvement from their time together where she would only awkwardly lift the corners of her lips), obviously also going with Silverash's act. Perhaps it was because of etiquette lessons he assumes to have been drilled into the lioness. "It's a pleasure to indeed see you again, Sir Silverash. And indeed, let us proceed first to the meeting first and foremost."
To others, it is merely an exchange of pleasantries.
But really, for the both of them, it's a start of the second chapter of their story that was left unfinished when they parted ways years ago in Rhodes Island.
"Courier." Silverash calls, voice low for only the two of them to hear as his attendant shifts his attention away from the crowd to his superior. "Please inform my sister that I won't be returning for dinner." He hums as Courier nodded, a grin on his lips.
"Yes."
Pleased with himself, Silverash's gaze drifted towards where a certain someone sat, eyes widening slightly before a small smile graced his lips upon meeting hazelnut eyes. "I've made another appointment after all."
And if Courier would tease him when he returns late at night, with Cliffheart joining in because she also refused to sleep before seeing her brother, then Silverash think that it was fair.
His date with Verna, identities concealed while the Glasglow gang helped them steer clear from people that might catch the two felines? It was certainly memorable but if Silverash were to be given a chance, he'd love to take her away more from her duties that she complained about.
If anything else, he'll certainly make sure that in the future, he does just that.
Then he'll finally ask her a question he's been meaning to ask.
(He wouldn't mind going through hell and back if only to finally have Verna's hand.)
After all, he is indeed lovesick for Verna.