Work Text:
Victor adores writing letters.
When he had been very young, his advisors had often praised his skill with language. Ink flowed beautifully in his script, and he had oft written silly poems and nonsense-words just to fill pages.
Yakov, the overseer of the once-Crown Prince’s physical fitness, had chided him for these exploits. The gruff old man had seen no point in Victor focusing so much on literature when he’d been born into power. Proficiency with words and well-placed smiles were weapons, but then, one needed to learn how to wield swords and shields, too.
As a king, Victor has not improved much. He dedicates equal time to his writing, his swordplay, and his diplomacy, but his heart is not attached to anything official.
Victor has been a king for some time now, and most times, it is an utterly tedious job. For many years, the king of Nikiforov has been aided by another, one so gifted with words that it puts Victor’s purple prose to shame.
His Prince, Yuuri of Katsuki, is away on business, and what Victor’s doing cannot be considered anything other than what it is: moping.
Victor’s fifth letter to his lover reads:
To my dearly beloved, Prince Yuuri,
A season has passed since you returned to your kingdom, but much like the sun chases the moon and I chase you through as many elements as I can manage, I grow weary. How I dearly cherish the dreams where we sit together and bask in the glow of our partnership.
Fawns and birds make their morning calls, and I move through the halls like a wailing spirit. My love is beautiful, but out of my sight, and how terribly I wish this were not so.
The daily rituals are merely an echo of what they once were those months ago with you here. In Nikiforov, the gardens grow dull if the eyes of the beholder do not find them glorious, and I must admit that I have become jaded.
When my dearest returns, perhaps the flowers will bloom as they once did, when our hands reunite.
From your adoring love,
King Victor of Nikiforov.
As soon as he sends it, Victor sighs.
Yuuri is a hardly a romantic, but that is what the king loves about him - the dark-haired beauty is naïve and everything he writes is unfiltered. It is pure and refreshing. His return message comes a fortnight later, and Victor hardly receives the letter in the proper way, almost knocking the page over to rip it open with his bare hands.
The silver-haired royal scurries away to his private quarters, where a Yuuri-shaped hole still awaits, but at least being in his room reminds Victor of his moon-enchanted beauty.
Yuuri’s letter reads:
To the stunning King of Nikiforov, the sun of my life,
The work proceeds in a grueling manner. I miss you terribly, of course, and I sleep with your letters stashed beneath my pillow.
Oh, Victor. My hometown is lovely and wonderful, and my people so brave in their struggles. To see it through your eyes, to see this kind of human experience is incredible. As a fellow royal, you are truly one of the few who understands what I see now.
I see your silver hair when I close my eyes. I feel your eyes on me, gaze hot under the moonlight.
The time simply cannot pass quickly enough, I’m afraid. Business proceeds in a grueling fashion. Perhaps I will be here another season, and the thought tears me in two.
Our reunion will be as glorious and passionate as we can manage.
From your patient love,
Prince Yuuri of Katsuki.
Victor sighs over the words, turning the letter over in his hands. He takes the time to run his fingers over every curve of Yuuri’s script, breathing in the light cologne his lover has sprayed on it.
Much like Yuuri had mentioned in the paper, he decides to put the letter under his pillow and sleep with it. Until nightfall, he does work and thinks of it, thinks of how he will respond.
He closes his eyes hours later, face pressed to the downy material. My prince will be home soon, King Victor thinks, eyes flicking up to his open window, where the waxing half-moon hangs high in the sky, a backdrop of stars compliment its’ glow.
In his next letter, he remembers to write one phrase:
The moon and the sun are the same wherever we are, my love.