Chapter Text
Wille is nine years old the first time he realizes he’s not quite like the rest of his family.
Erik is fourteen, going through his rebellious phase—if you could even call it that—with such cool, collected logic that you’d hardly know he and his mother were in a disagreement.
“Erik,” Kristina begins, taking a deep breath as her lips press into a thin, disapproving line. “You are aware of your situation. You have been for your entire life. You know that taking things any further with Ilsa will only end in pain for you both.”
He dips his head in acknowledgment, his conflict with his mother respectful in a way that Wille would never be able to manage. “I know you see it that way. And no, I don’t see myself staying with Ilsa for the rest of my life. She’s not my soulmate. But I don’t think our relationship is a waste of time, even if we’re not meant to be together forever. And she knows that, too. We’ve talked about it, and we want to stay together for now, even if I’m not destined for her.” Erik’s hands are folded neatly in front of him at the dinner table, although some of his nervousness is betrayed by the way he’s picking at a loose thread on his linen napkin.
“Does she really accept that, though, Erik? Or is she just so in love with you that she’s taking whatever she can get until you inevitably abandon her for your soulmate? Ilsa doesn’t have a soul bond. Are you really okay with her wasting these years of her life, knowing that she can never truly be with you?”
“Mamma, I—”
“Not to mention how people would react if this relationship ever became public. What sort of look is it for you to be dating around, having relationships with other girls when everyone knows you have a soulmate out there waiting for you?”
“Mamma, people do it all the time! Honestly, I’m one of the only soul-bonded people at school who hasn’t already dated someone else. It’s really not that big of a deal.”
“For you, it is, Erik. For you it is. You are Kronprins , and you have a soulmate. I know it might feel like a punishment, but it is an incredible privilege. One that even your own brother is not lucky enough to—”
There is an abrupt scrape as Erik pushes his chair back from the dinner table. There is a rare edge of anger in his voice when he addresses Kristina. “I would be happy to discuss this further with you later, but you will leave Wille out of this.”
Wille follows him out of the dining room, ignoring the discontented murmurs from his parents as he leaves them at the table.
He nervously chews on the inside of his cheek as he follows Erik back to his room, frowning as his older brother flops onto his bed with an exasperated sigh. Wille sits at his desk, cross-legged in the wheeled desk chair that he likes to spin around on until he’s on the verge of puking.
“When you’re dating somebody someday,” Erik laughs humorlessly, his voice muffled by the pillow covering his face, “don’t listen to anything they have to say about it.”
Wille doesn’t respond for a moment, his hands searching across Erik’s desk for the mint chewing gum that he tends to hide from his light-fingered younger brother. He finds it, tucked behind a recent photo of him and August, and grins as he unfolds the wrapper.
“I just won’t date anybody. I’ll wait for my soulmate.”
Erik is silent.
“I don’t think it’s bad that you’re dating Ilsa, though. She’s nice. And pretty. I just wouldn’t want to have to fight with Mamma and Pappa over a girl I couldn’t even stay with. I could wait for my soulmate.”
Erik’s bed squeaks as he sits up, meeting Wille’s eyes as he spins the desk chair toward him.
“You know how my soul bond presents, right?” Erik asks tentatively, as if beginning a conversation that he is not entirely eager about having.
“Yeah. Your soul mark. On your wrist.” Wille doesn’t say duh, but it’s implied. He can’t see it with the way Erik is sitting, but there’s a small cluster of stars on the inside of his wrist, the formation of which exactly matches the soul mark of some girl out there who hasn’t yet realized she’s the Kronprins’ soulmate.
“And you know how you don’t have one?”
“Yeah, but it’s just a different bond then. Like how some people can feel when their soulmate is in pain. Or how some people have a piece of hair that changes color based on how far away their soulmate is. Or how some people can communicate with their soulmate inside their head. Or how—”
“Right, right. I forgot you did the soulmate unit in school last term. You must have done some serious studying, huh?”
“I got an A on the test,” Wille brags.
(Erik is the only one who is proud of him for such things. Erik is also the only one who gets to see the side of Wille who will speak in anything more than one-word sentences.)
“Really? You never told me! That’s great!”
“Tack.” A crooked grin spreads across Wille’s face.
Erik’s smile wanes as he picks his train of thought back up. “Well, anyway, Wille. You’re right. There are a lot of different kinds of soul bonds.”
Wille fills in the awkward pause after that sentence. “I hope my soulmate can talk with me inside my head. It would make history tests so much easier. And we could make fun of Mamma in front of her. I would probably already know if I had that soul bond, though. Since people are born with them.”
“But, ah, you know. You know how most people don’t have a soulmate?”
“Yeah, only three people in my class last term did. But all royals do. That’s the only nice thing about being a prince.”
Erik tilts his head up toward the ceiling, silently despairing at needing to be the one to have this conversation with his brother.
“Well, not all royals do. Just most royals.”
“Really?” Wille looks concerned. “Is there somebody in our family that doesn’t have a soulmate?”
“Wille, have you—have you ever felt anything like a soul bond? Have you ever seen a mark, felt a pull, heard somebody else in your head? Anything?”
He frowns. “No.”
“You know—you know how Mamma and Pappa always talk about my soulmate when they make plans for the future? But they don’t ever talk about yours?”
“That’s just cause you’re Kronprins, though. They don’t need to think about me so much.”
“Wille.”
“Yeah?”
Wilhelm says it like a question, but he already knows what Erik is getting at. He’s young, but he’s not stupid. He just doesn’t want to believe it.
“You know that you can be just as happy without a soulmate, right? It’s just as meaningful to choose who you spend your life with. You know you’d be just as loved?”
But how could he be? Why would anyone choose him, the second prince, the family disappointment, the one who can barely withstand his royal duties without panicking? Would anyone who did choose him just be with him for his royal status? What reasonable person would choose Wille when they’d have to deal with his family and all its complications? What could be special about him, besides a soul bond?
Wille is nine years old, though, and such intricacies of the heart are still entirely beyond him. So he nods at Erik, turning to him with a faltering half-smile.
“Yeah. I know.”