Work Text:
Sunlight poured in through the windows of the library, bathing the stacks of books in an inviting gold that had always been too much for Sorin to resist. Most who looked at him saw an arrogant prick of a prince who probably wouldn’t be caught dead with his nose in a book, and truthfully, he reveled in how wrong they were.
Well, mostly wrong. His favorite book might object if he stuck his nose in her.
It was late afternoon, and preparations for the arrival of several diplomatic envoys had taken up a better part of his day. He had finally managed to slip the yoke of helping to prepare, though he certainly owed his dear friend Ola a drink later. She was the one who would have to tell his mother and her advisors he was nowhere to be found, after all.
That was something to worry about later, however. For now, he intended to enjoy the near-silence, basking in the peace this place brought him. Better yet, it was home to the one person, if she could be called that, who he wanted to share it with.
“There you are!” Linzi said cheerfully. She was perched on a red silk cushion in the middle of the library, the area around her dais kept meticulously clean. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.” Perhaps he imagined it, but Sorin swore her pages ruffled indignantly.
“You wound me deeply, my dear friend!” Sorin clutched at his heart. All these years and he was still unsure if Linzi could actually see in her form, but that never stopped him from ramping up the melodrama for her benefit. “I’ll have you know that there are whispers of war on the horizon. I have been quite instrumental in the talks to avoid such a calamity from befalling us all.”
“Mm-hmm.” Somehow, Linzi didn’t sound convinced. He supposed he couldn’t blame her - even stuck as she was, she somehow managed to be up to date on the latest comings and goings of the kingdom. Sorin knew his mother stopped by frequently, as did several of his parents’ former traveling companions, people who had been honorary aunts and uncles his entire life. Even Nok-Nok made visits, and Sorin was fairly sure the goblin had no interest in anything else the library had to offer.
“It’s true! My lady, have I ever lied to you?”
“Oh, don’t you ‘my lady’ me!” Despite her tone, Linzi was laughing. “You’re just lucky nothing Vesper has told me lately directly contradicts what you just said.” With that, her voice dropped, concern palpable, “How has she been? It’s been a few days since she’s visited.”
His mother - the esteemed Queen Vesper of the Stolen Lands - had actually just returned from Brevoy the previous evening. The country was, as ever, in turmoil. What was surprising was the Stolen Lands finding themselves dragged into it this time. For all of his twenty-some years of life, his mother had tried her hardest to ensure they were not plunged into the petty squabbles that hounded the lands to the northeast.
When she had returned the previous evening, his mother had immediately called a council, one that he was finally old enough to sit in on. The memory of his mother’s pallid skin and wan look spoke volumes to the gravity of the situation. No one protested when she said they were joining the conflict, though he had sensed the hesitation from the council when she told them whose side they were joining.
“Sorin?” Linzi’s voice shook him out of his reverie, “Are you still there?”
“Yes, I was just…just remembering something.” He tried to keep his voice even, lest he worry her. His mother had been bringing him to visit Linzi all his life - even if all she knew of him was his voice, her suspicions could easily be roused.
“Anything interesting?” she asked, the question innocuously loaded.
Sorin could tell her the truth, but this was precisely what he had slipped in here to avoid, even if for just a moment. He needed a diversion, one that was close enough to the topic at hand so it wasn’t obvious he was changing the subject, but separate enough that he didn’t find himself falling back into dark thoughts.
“I was thinking of one of our prospective guests,” he said, taking a seat beside her. “One Mr. Marius Trias-Jefto.”
“That name doesn’t ring a bell…what’s so interesting about him?”
“He’s the son of Count and Countess Arendae. Surely my mother’s told you a story or two - they’re some of her dearest friends besides your esteemed self, after all. Only, he’s not actually Count Arendae’s son by blood. They have another spouse, you see, and he’s his son. Apparently caused quite the scandal in Mendev.”
“Oh, yes, now I remember!” Linzi’s laugh was raucous, leaving no doubt what she had been told concerning the Arendaes. Their reputation did precede them. “…I thought you kids were friends?”
“We were when we were younger. I haven’t seen them in a few years now. Marius’ sister Silaena and I are the same age, and the last time she and I spoke…” Sorin trailed off at the memory, perplexed smile making its way to his face. “It was at a ball and I asked her to dance. Her exact response, and I quote, ‘I have no interest in dancing with anyone, but least of all a stuck-up, preening peacock of a boy like you. If Aroden himself appeared before us and said that dancing with you was the only way to avoid ending the world, I would let the apocalypse come.’”
“Ouch. What did you do to her, Sorin?”
He considered denying any wrong-doing, but knew better. “I may have lightheartedly teased her brother for being a…what was the word I used? Ah, yes. Nerd.”
“Sorin,” Linzi groaned, “Is that why he’s on your mind? Do you regret what you said?”
Not in the least, but he wasn’t going to admit to that. If anything, he hoped Marius was still the shy, mousy bookworm who hardly ever left his laboratory. Almost as much as he hoped he still had those gorgeous curls…
“Enough about the Arendaes. Linzi, I came to you for a story. Tell me one, please?”
She sighed, and again he swore her pages fluttered, not at all unlike an aunt shaking her head.
“Fine. But just one, and then you need to go back to whatever you’re supposed to be doing. Deal?”
“Deal.” Inching his chair forwards, he propped his chin in his hands, not bothering to dampen his enthusiasm.
Linzi cleared her throat. “Once upon a time, in a far away land, there was a prince….”