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Around two weeks after his coronation, Corrin is sitting behind the Vallite throne.
It’s sorta cozy back here. Not entirely comfortable, since it’s all just hard stone and dust. But it’s not so bad either, he means that. Corrin doesn’t mind curling up so he can fit in the little space—it's wider than you might think, too. And it’s much cooler sitting on the ground, which he's enjoying to the very fullest, since his fancy clothes can get stuffy sometimes.
“Y’know,” comes Silas’s voice suddenly, without even a little warning. “This is a weird place to sit.”
Corrin grins from ear to ear. “Silas!” Wearing half a smile himself, Silas is peering over one of the sides of the throne. He’s got a tilt to his head, and Corrin tucks his legs in closer. “I guess so. I thought I saw something—and I did! Valla has super weird bugs, did you know that?”
Silas’s eyes move up and down the back of the throne Corrin’s pressed to, and also the wall he’s squished against. “And so you stayed back here because…?”
“Oh, I dunno.” Corrin licks his lips, trying not to gnaw on them—Camilla always used to get on him about that. Which makes him scrunch his nose. “Valla can get pretty bright in the afternoons, don’t you think?”
Silas looks at Corrin for a second, leaning more into view. He’s wearing Vallite clothes, draping and silky fabric in soft whites and blues. It suits him, Corrin thinks, it matches his hair. Silas plops down next to Corrin, which makes him snicker, scooting over to share the space.
“Maybe the bug will come back, then you can see,” Corrin says. “It was spiny, but also, um, translucent? And green! So weird.”
Silas doesn’t look quite as thrilled, and he narrows his eyes. “It’d better not bite, though.”
“Oh, yeah.” Corrin didn’t even think of that. “That might be creepy.”
They’re quiet for a long beat. Corrin doesn’t mind too much, he was being pretty quiet before Silas came over, after all. And Valla tends to be a quiet place, anyway. You can hear your echo for ages in a palace like this, so wide and so empty. And for a long time, Corrin was used to something just like that.
Silas settles in some more, and he glances over at Corrin. “You’re missing Nohr, aren’t you?”
Corrin deflates. “Am I that obvious?" Silas nods, which makes Corrin start to pout. He’s not used to how bright Valla gets, or the long white stones, or the vast, vast sky and deep, deep waters. “Oh, but I miss Hoshido, too. Even if I wasn’t there long. Maybe it’s more like I miss my siblings.”
Silas takes his hand and scratches the back of Corrin’s head gently, and Corrin ends up just resting on his shoulder as he does. It’s a nice feeling, relaxing and comfortable. And once Silas stops, he lets his arm sit around Corrin’s shoulders. That’s a nice feeling, too.
Corrin takes a deep breath. “I know Valla is supposed to be my home,” he begins, talking quieter. “But it doesn’t feel like that yet. I keep thinking—how am I meant to be a king of somewhere I hardly know? I want to be, and I want to try, but…”
Silas leans down so his cheek is pressing against the side of Corrin’s head, a little bit nestled in his hair. He narrowly avoids Corrin’s crown, which is good, since Corrin knows from experience that it really hurts if you poke it. They sit there, pretty much hidden from view, no more bugs in sight.
“I’m not sure I’m wise enough to give you a proper answer,” Silas says slowly, and Corrin snorts a laugh.
“Neither am I. Guess we’re stuck.”
Corrin taps his feet up and down on the ground—such a stony and smooth floor. This isn’t the old throne room, since that one got smashed to bits when they fought Anankos. They did some reconstruction on the palace before Corrin’s coronation, and they moved all the fancy stuff in here. Stone walls, stone floors. Some parts are dirt, too. But not in here.
The reconstruction in general has been going okay. Xander and Ryoma granted some temporary land for refugees to stay in while Valla’s being reforged. It was going to be permanent, but a lot of people said they didn’t want to leave their homes forever. A lot didn’t want to leave at all. And Corrin thought, well. That’s understandable. These people have already been through so much. He shouldn't take their home away, too.
Corrin really is a complete stranger. He doesn’t know what’s best for Valla yet. Letting the people guide his hand is the best he’s got, but that won’t be enough forever. He needs to act like he belongs here, and he needs to be the one who’s leading, rather than being led.
“Do you miss Nohr, Silas?” Corrin asks. Just like how Corrin doesn’t want to force people out of their homes, he doesn’t want to force anyone into them, either. And Silas, even if he’s dressed head to toe in Vallite garb—this isn’t where he’s from.
“Sure,” Silas says with a shrug, and Corrin frowns.
“Just ‘sure?’”
“Well, yeah. I don’t think too much about it, honestly.”
Corrin turns more towards him, lifting up his head. “What? You grew up there! You fought for it, even.”
Silas raises his eyebrows. “I fought for you. The whole time,” he says, which makes Corrin close his mouth entirely. “So if you’re here now, so am I. Easy. Not much to miss.”
Corrin starts to fiddle with his hair, and Silas kinda nudges closer, so Corrin lets himself flop back to where he was. “I was… Thinking you should go back if you need to, but. Do you not need to?”
“Go back? And let you run a whole kingdom by yourself?” Silas asks, and Corrin lets out a breath of air in a buzz. “Am I supposed to just let you go? No way. I'll stay put.”
Corrin hums, and it’s kind of a defiant one. “I just don’t want you to end up homesick like me,” he says honestly. “This isn’t supposed to be your home. I don’t want Valla to be such a confining place again.”
Corrin can’t let it turn into that. So it would be really hypocritical to keep anyone here who didn’t want to be. Even if that doesn’t entirely exclude himself. But, well—Corrin doesn’t exactly not want to be here, either. He’s just in a really awkward in-between phase. A rock and a hard place. A throne and a wall.
“Ehh. Who cares,” Silas says, super casually, and Corrin squints.
“What the heck?” But Silas just goes on.
“I don’t! It’s not like Nohr is that far. It isn't gone.” He sighs, and he shuffles his feet around. “And maybe I’d rather sit with you behind a dusty old throne, anyway. Even if it’s really dusty.”
Corrin laughs a little. “Yeah, I think I can feel a sneeze coming on,” he says. “Let’s get out.”
Silas helps Corrin up, since Corrin was a lot more wedged in there than Silas was. But when Silas tries to let go, Corrin doesn’t, grinning widely and squeezing his hand. Silas huffs a bit, but he’s got a grin, too. He holds Corrin’s hand right back.
And then he looks really amused. “You are crazy dusty,” he says, looking Corrin up and down. And now that Corrin notices, yeah, he really is.
“Oh, man.” Corrin tries wiping himself off with his free hand. “Maybe I should get back there with a broom sometime.”
Silas makes a face. “Are you planning on sitting there again?” Corrin laughs sheepishly.
“Not really. But maybe for the bug’s sake!”
Silas shakes his head. And Corrin, he thinks he’s really glad Silas is here too. Like he said, he’d let him go if he wanted to be anywhere else, but… Corrin doesn’t actually want him to leave. He didn’t want anybody to leave. But at least Silas stayed.
Maybe it’s really true that neither of them are all that wise. Maybe Corrin only barely fits into the shoes of a king, and maybe Silas has suddenly become a knight without a war to fight in. Neither of them are completely in their proper places right now. It’s not at all what they prepared for.
But, still. He’s nice to be around. Silas always tends to give Corrin some wiggle room.
And Corrin wouldn’t trade him for anybody.