The soft clopping of hooves created a steady, calm rhythm as he rode along the small dirt path. This view was unarguably much more beautiful when the world was alive, but something about the rolling hills covered in snow brought him peace. It was a vast expanse of glittering white, seemingly untouched and undisturbed. Quiet.
He usually came out here by himself, only Dancer to keep him company, but another horse and rider sauntered along with him this time.
After today's council meeting, Philip had come knocking at his chamber door. Not much was explained save for that he wanted to go for a ride and talk. He was unsure what had spurred this on, but he was nothing if not curious about what his brother wanted. It had been the better part of a half hour since they’d departed from the castle, and not a word had been spoken. Maybe something had happened between him and Father.
An inhalation of breath broke the silence, and Philip’s face displayed discomfort, maybe even what could be construed as pain.
“Aryn, I… how are you doing?”
His question was clearly not the words he truly wished to say. Immense confusion, mixed with a more subtle layer of anxiety, began to fill his own head.
“I am well. How is everything with you, Brother?”
Philip suddenly turned in his saddle. “Aryn, I want to apologize.”
“For what?” he prompted, brows furrowed. The past few weeks had gone by uneventfully since the wedding. The two of them hadn’t butted heads in an impressive amount of time. He thought everything had been going quite well…
“Just… for everything. For being a shit brother, I suppose. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the day of the hunt, what you told me. And now that everything has begun to settle, I’ve had more time to reflect. Did you know that when Dahlia returned to me last week, she could not stop going on about you? She adores you. And all I was thinking in that moment was, ‘why? What could she possibly see in Aryn?’ And then I realized just how utterly fucked up that was.
I think… mayhaps Father has been rubbing off on me too much, especially with Mum gone. We used to be so close, and now it feels as if we’re almost complete strangers. And I know now that that has been mainly my fault. You were right; I’ve been so nearsighted on my birthright that I’ve neglected everything else. And I suppose that when I saw just how good of friends you and Percy are… Well, I was jealous. And instead of self-reflecting, I blamed it on someone else. But seeing Percy in the council chamber this past week… I finally understood. It was I who was being selfish, and ignorant, and narrow-minded.
Anyway, my point is… I am sorry, Aryn. I’m sorry for not being there for you after Mum passed. I’m sorry for not trying harder to understand you. And I’m sorry I haven’t been the older brother you deserve.”
Tears stung in his blue eyes as he stared at his brother. Then something shocking: Philip’s deep brown irises began to shimmer. He couldn’t even remember the last time he saw him cry, maybe when they were kids. Of course he had been horribly sullen after Mother passed, but never once did he see Philip shed a tear during that dark time.
It was hard. They had been so at odds for so long that he hadn’t even thought of the possibility of this moment. Some small, bitter part of him didn’t want to forgive him. And maybe he wouldn’t, not fully. But this was unprecedented, and the tears in Philip’s eyes told him everything he needed to know about his sincerity.
“Could we just try to start over? Go back to how we used to be, as boys,” he suggested, ashen hair being tossed gently in the chilled breeze.
“I would love that. Dahlia and I are hosting our first ball at the castle tonight; it would make both of us very happy if you attended. Invite Percy, too. He should start to get involved socially and needs to make connections.”
“That sounds wonderful, of course I’ll come,” he agreed with a soft smile. “I’ll let him know.”
A more pensive expression settled on Philip’s face as he took in the landscape. His full, wavy brown hair housed tiny specks of snowflakes, and as he sat atop his beautiful black Friesian, he could tell something else still weighed on the crown prince’s mind.
“You never really told me much about how you and Percy came to be friends.”
“Well, I accidentally broke into the tavern he used to work at, and we just hit it off, I guess–”
Neatly trimmed eyebrows furrowed curiously in his direction. “You broke in somewhere?” The disbelief in his voice almost gave him offense.
“The door was unlocked and I thought they were open,” he shot back defensively, although contrary to his tone a coy smile began to spread on his lips. “He was about to pull a knife on me until I explained myself.”
Philip laughed, his tone warm and amused. “That would have been a very bad day for him.”
“Yes it would have,” he concurred, a small smirk gracing his fair face.
Rich brown eyes glanced over at him again, his expression once again settling into a more serious one.
“I suppose I just don’t really understand your relationship. My friendships are just not the same, though I have many. Maybe that’s why I disliked the man at first.”
His own expression softened. “Pardon my saying so, Brother, but I do not think you possess many real friendships. Not to your own fault but… the primary reason most of those young men are your friend is because you’re next in line. All they see you as is an opportunity; Percy sees me as a person. He never cared about who my father is. Maybe you need to find someone who wants your company simply because of who you are, not who you’re going to be.”
Philip sat in silence for a long moment, thoughts flickering behind rich brown eyes, as he stared into the distance and watched the sunlight sparkle on the untouched snow. He knew it was not something his brother wanted to hear. But he needed to.
“You may not be wrong. Many times I do feel as if I am completely alone, even though I am surrounded by others. But how does one acquire those types of friends? True friends?”
The tone of his voice seemed genuinely helpless, a sad frustration clearly bubbling up in his broad chest. His Friesian snorted and tossed its large head as they clopped along.
“Well… You might not like the idea, but I genuinely believe you and Percy have a lot more in common than you might think. And perhaps try to make more of an effort with Oliver; you did marry his sister after all, and I know he enjoys your company as well. He missed sparring with you last week.”
A small, warm smile spread across his brother’s face as he glanced down at his horse’s neck. “I do like Percy, Aryn. He’s been the only person in years besides Father to put me in my place, to not give a horse’s arse that I have a crown on my head. And you’re right. I should make more time for Oliver, seeing that he is our brother-in-law now. Family is important, even if it’s not by blood. Well, yet.”
“Yet?”
His question hung in the frozen air for a moment, and he could feel his neck heating up as Philip looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
“My dear brother, you do know what happens when people marry, don’t you?”
He shoved him in his saddle. “Well, yes, I’m not an idiot. It’s just that… it’s been less than a month. How could you know yet?”
“Well, we don’t. Not until another fortnight or so.”
His brows crinkled at the discomfort settling in his chest. “And you want that to happen so soon?”
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“Yes, why not?” Philip challenged, chuckling lightly.
“I don’t know… don’t you maybe want to enjoy it being just you two for a little while? You know, actually get to know each other but you have this huge responsibility to take care of?”
“I need to produce an heir, Aryn–”
“I understand that, but you’re not King yet. All I’m saying is you maybe should enjoy being just two young people in love until you actually need to fulfill that duty. Once it happens, you can never go back.”
Philip did not open his mouth immediately this time. It was rare that he ever got him to listen to him, but maybe this turning over of a new leaf also included not casting his brother’s opinions aside. As nauseating as it was for him to admit, Philip and Dahlia really did pair perfectly together, and he wanted them to be able to have what he and Percy did for as long as possible. No expectations, no duty… just love.
“When did you get so wise?” he questioned jokingly.
“I’ve always been pretty wise, Philip, you just haven’t listened to me,” he playfully shot back.
“I suppose I better start then, huh?”
A gentle breeze blew at their faces as they turned to look at each other, and warm, hopeful smiles slowly spread across them. He shivered at the cold and shrunk into himself more, his grey-blue coat only able to do so much to keep out the biting wind.
“We should head back before we freeze.”
“Ah, more sound wisdom.”
They both chuckled softly and turned their horses, making their way back towards the castle. The stableboys collected their beasts, and he bid Philip a quick goodbye before heading towards Percy’s home. Turning the lock in its place, he was surprised to find the tumblers were already unlocked. He cautiously swung the door open, peeking his head in as a sense of worry began to well within his chest.
But instead he spotted Percy seated in one of the armchairs by the fireplace, speaking to a man and woman who occupied the daybed. The back of the man’s head was covered in dark brown hair streaked with grey, and the woman possessed tight curls with a bit lighter of color. As the door latched into place with a quiet thunk, they all quickly turned to see who had entered the home.
“Aryn,” Percy greeted, a pleasantly surprised smile on his tan, handsome face. He stood from his armchair and made his way over to him, without a crutch. “Mum, Pa, this is Aryn Stewart. I know you and Dad have met before, but it’s been some time.”
His parents suddenly shot to their feet, his father giving him a low bow while his mother curtsied deeply. It was his father who spoke up first.
“Your Highness, it is such a wonderful honor to see you again. I cannot thank you enough for everything you’ve done, for both our family and for Percy.”
His mother smiled so warmly at him that it made his chest ache. Percy’s father sported a similarly shaped smile as his son, and seeing all three of them, he was finally able to put the hereditary pieces together, so to speak. His mother had the most brilliant emerald eyes, and surprisingly she was a bit more tan than her husband. But his face shape and stature, he had known, certainly came from his father.
He stepped up to them, offering an equally warm smile in return. “Well, you all deserve it, and then some. Percy has been an invaluable friend to me, and his progress on the council in such a short time has been nothing short of remarkable. And please, just call me Aryn from now on. My friendship extends to you both as well.”
He reached a slender hand out to Percy’s father. Though there was hesitation, the man took it and clasped his other over top. He knew his father was not the most emotional man, but he could tell he was moved by the gesture. Next he took his mother’s hand and clasped it in his, and with a bow of her head, she gave him another sickeningly sweet smile. It was a smile only a mother could have.
“We have been so blessed by your generous spirit, Your Hi–Aryn. I pray you do not take offense but… well, Matthias and I wish to remain at our original home, continuing to run our business.”
“There is no offense to be had, ma’am. That is your home, your livelihood. I would never expect you to abandon it. I am so sorry, I do not know your name,” he prompted gently.
“Oh, it’s Isabelle. My apologies, how rude of me,” she laughed with an embarrassed smile, placing a hand on her chest.
“No, it was rude of me not to ask earlier,” he argued, offering her a small smile in return. “But I did wish to ask you both for something: your forgiveness.”
Both of their faces warped in confusion and concern.
“I had asked Percy to join us for the wedding hunt. The blame for his accident rests with me. I know how promising his skill was and what that meant for your family.”
Matthias sighed as he crossed his muscular arms, a paternal expression taking over his face. “The only thing to blame is that stupid pig, Your Highness. And it was like you said: an accident. Unless you were in cahoots with the boar,” he pointed out in jest.
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, I do not like pigs rather much. There was no cross-species scheming to be had, that I can assure you.”
The room lit up with the sound of light laughter, and as he finally looked at Percy, he could see the happiness, the pride and contentment in his green eyes. He only wished he could embrace him at that moment.
“Percy, I came to tell you that Philip has invited you to the ball he and Dahlia are hosting tonight.”
His dark eyebrows shot up. “Me? A Ball?”
“Yes, you. A ball. I believe he wishes to get to know you better. And besides, it’ll be a great opportunity to get to know more people around here. People you are now working with.”
Isabelle clasped her hands together excitedly. “Darling, that’s wonderful! If the crown prince has asked for you, you must go.”
“I don’t know the first thing about proper dancing or… or any of that,” he pointed out, panic beginning to creep into his voice.
“Oh, well I’m sure Aryn could show you some basics. It’ll be fine, dear–”
“Listen to your mother, boy. It’d be a great insult not to go. You’ve been invited, personally, by Prince Philip. That’s not something that warrants discussion.”
Percy sighed heavily, pressing his lips together, and he had to try hard to keep himself from laughing. For everything he saw Percy as, at the end of the day, he was simply just somebody’s son. And from this little encounter, he could tell that they had a wonderful family. He supposed it helped when life was simpler, when all you had to worry about was making sure everyone was taken care of.
“Well, we’ll get out of your hair. It seems you have a lot to do before this ball,” Matthias concluded. “We look forward to seeing you again, Aryn. And once again, thank you.”
They shook hands once more, and a wave of warmth passed through his chest. He placed a brief kiss atop Isabelle’s hand before Percy saw them out the door. As they bid each other goodbye, he gave each of them a long, tight hug. A lump began to form in his throat as he watched him and his father embrace.
Locking the door behind them, Percy turned to look at him with an expression that was riddled with worry. “What do we do now?”
A coy smirk grew on his face. “We teach you how to dance.”
***
“Okay, do you know how to waltz?”
“What’s that?”
He let his hands drop dramatically to his sides as he stared at Percy with blatant incredulity. “You don’t know what a waltz is?”
“I could tell you about different types of metals.”
Fingers came to pinch the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes, sighing heavily with a shake of his head. “You’re lucky I love you. Alright just… bring your arms up.”
Percy lifted his muscular arms awkwardly, letting them suspend in the air. He grabbed at his wrists and proceeded to place his large hands on him in the correct positions: one on his hip and the other grasping his own hand.
“Okay, so you’re going to step in three’s. Your first foot is going to go in the direction you want to move–” he stepped his right foot sideways– “And the other comes to meet it. The third step is really just to shift your feet, so you’ll step on the first foot again but more so in place so you can shift your weight and head in a different direction. Then you will lead with your left foot, and so on.”
Percy scrunched his face together and blinked, shaking his head. “Hold on, that’s five too many directions for me at once.”
“Percy, it was three steps.”
“Yes but it was more than three sentences.”
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “Is this really what you want me to murder you over?”
“Okay, okay,” he chuckled. “Tell me if I’m doing it right.”
It was a bit clunky, but as he acted out the steps, they were correct. The skin on his hip tingled as fingers made their way beneath his shirt.
“Yes, that’s right. Now try to make it smoother.”
They spent the better part of an hour learning various steps, and by the end of it Percy had learned an impressive five dances. Although now they were both a bit sweaty. A bath would certainly be in order before they donned anything adjacent to fine clothes.
“Great. I’m going to head back to the castle and get cleaned up. I’ll come get you in a couple hours.”
“What should I wear?” he asked anxiously.
A coy smile formed on his lips. “There are a few things I got for you in the master bedroom that should work. I have faith.”
Percy sighed and wiped a bit of sweat from his brow. “Alright, I’m trusting you. I’ll see you in a bit, love.”
He strode forward and bent down slightly, placing a gentle kiss to his lips as he tilted his chin upward. A quiet finally settled over his soul as their mouths touched, and he found himself deepening the kiss while he tangled his fingers in Percy’s curls. He felt him smile against his lips as a thumb brushed along his jaw.
“We have things to do, Aryn…”
He forced himself to pull away, but wasn’t happy about it. Just for once he wished time would stop for a bit, that they were the only people to exist.
“Fine. I’ll see you soon.”
A soft smirk grew on Percy’s lips. “Counting on it.”