Work Text:
(i)
You're old enough to understand him but not old enough to know him. That's the age at which you learn to hate Nikolai Lantsov.
He sits in your spot in the kitchen, looking for all the world as though he were heartbroken and tired.
It was your spot because it kept you away from the work and bustle while giving you a perfect view of your mother - her being one of the many cooks/pastry chefs in the palace.
It was something you liked to brag about when other kids tried to be mean - that your mum was a valued servant amongst royalty but you never told them that she'd sneak you the badly shaped pastries or any leftover filling. That would lead to theft or worse - accusations of treason.
You were a child. Not an idiot.
So when you walk in with marbles in your hand and see the boy for the first time, you understand that he's the kid that stays indoors.
He looked like the kind of weed that kept his clothes clean on purpose.
No wonder his mother trusted him with clothing like that!
So when you sit in a different corner, you've already grown to hate the prince and when your mum gives him a well made pastry and you none, you hate him even more.
Nikolai knows exactly what to make of you as you sit away and send him glares and he hates you for it.
You're old enough to understand the second prince of Ravka but not old enough to know him; that's the age at which you learn to hate him
(ii)
You take to calling him "the delicate darling" when your mum insists on fussing over the boy.
It's true that he never came back to the kitchens but it's also true that the isolated instance was enough for your mum to take to him and worry about him.
You never call him that to anyone but your mum as the joke of the name was in calling him 'delicate' and no member of royalty was ever to be spoken of in terms of frailty. It could lead to you being imprisoned but that doesn't stop you from committing treason in the privacy of your mum's company.
When she peers around the door in an empty room and rushes to your side, you know there's been talk.
There had been talk. Of Nikolai.
Everyone had just found out of why the second prince had been so othered his whole life.
He was a bastard child.
No one knew what to make of the news but no one was surprised either. In hindsight, it seemed something too obvious.
What else could justify the constant sobriety where Vasili was so blatant and spoilt?
You stop calling him "the delicate darling".
Your mum notices.
(iii)
The second prince of Ravka; Nikolai is beautiful.
You're his personal servant and know of his reclusive tendencies better than anyone could hope to.
You spend hours and days carrying and fetching inks, pens, books, papers, maps and any snacks within palace bounds but there are days where you can't grudge his highness.
Some days, he was too beautiful to be blamed.
You had easily imagined him as a painting held on the walls for the centuries to come but now you could imagine him as someone the young ones would gawk at. Because you'd gawked at him.
Just once and then you'd made sure to stomp on the urge but you had doen it -much to your humiliation.
His highness had decided to go horse riding, making his mother weep for joy and call him 'wise'.
Truly. A family of idiots.
You'd gotten his things and brought the horse to hime. With practice, he took the reins and got onto the dreadful thing and though there had been no talk, he'd made you still.
The Prince; Nikolai was beautiful.
The navy against his skin.
His dark eyes against his fair hair.
He might as well have been a sculpture!
He rushes away and you're left standing there with a knot in your sternum.
Nikolai? was beautiful?
Nikolai was beautiful.
You shove the knot away and keep it shoved away.
(iv)
He befriends you.
or, in earnest, he let you sit down while he spent hours poring overlooks in the library.
You don't lounge like he does but at least you're sitting down.
Thenhe let's you take blank papers, then from his tea tray and then from his pile of foreign candy.
You don't dare to talk to him. It was far beyond you to risk your job but Nikolai was either unaware or unbothered of his treatment towards you.
It's one of the many days with his reclusive tendencies when he asks you something.
"What is it like? To go out with people while doing your duties?"
"I don't understand"
He notices the lack of judgement. Searching your face, he elaborates "My mother insists I befriend other royals but I don't see the charm of it? Wouldn't I be chattering needlessly then? What difference does it make when I don't like them?".
Any opinion here would be treason. To a prince no less.
You keep quiet.
He sighs. "I understand. What is it that your friends do that you can't do at work? Besides being honest."
It's hard to keep your faces still.
Neither if you succeeds.
"Nicknames. We have nicknames while we go about our duties."
"Call me Kolya"
You can't tell if he means to ask you that as a servant or a confidant.
"At least now; in private. Please?"
You hope he doesn't insist after this, so you indulge him.
"Kolya"
He's beautiful when he smiles.
(v)
Kolya.
A single invented word.
Kolya.
Somethjng he hasn't been called before.
Kolya.
Somethkng melodic.
Kolya.
A gift from a friend.
Kolya.
Him.
He wants to lock the word and keep it with him.
Tie it to a locket, maybe.
Burn it into his inner arm.
Something, anything to keep it safe.
"Kolya"
You don't miss that he fights a smile.
"Yes?".
Ever the prince.
"Why flying?" You keep your voice hushed and words restrained. He doesn't
"Well, corny as it is - I value my freedom"
"Flying is.... freedom?"
How could a prince long for freedom?
"You understand. Don't you?"
And now, you do understand.
The whispered 'sobachka'.
The backhanded compliments.
The snobbery that seemed to keep him apart.
The insistence on his 'blood rights'.
Freedom.
You hadn't thought of this before. Hadn't thought of having an entire world and no one to split with.
"Isn't the sky lonely too?"
You face away and school your expressions.
Someone had rustled in.
(vi)
He runs away.
Kolya runs away and all you feel is pride.
He does it on the pretext of exploring the forest for a few days.
He packs his necessities. Gets on a horse. And he's gone.
You know because he's told you so and asked of your help and because he said he'd leave you something in the forest.
Its as dusk falls that you set out on his trail.
You know that he won't risk your job, so, you agree.
In a few days, soldiers would be sent our with lanterns with the hopes that the prince was lost and lying face first and drunk in the dirt.
It would be bittersweet to be the only one who knew.
Right now, you follow his trail deep into the woods and find your gift.
It was a pouch of the foreign candy you loved more than Nikolai did.
Holding the tattered pouch, made precisely to look as unlike royalty as possible, you feel something swell in your sternum and up your lungs.
You don't cry.
You cough up petals.