The first of several scenes I wrote about Yanric, the old king of Kalisie, and his life. May or may not post the rest a little at a time. For context, the khaleije people are mind readers, tho w varying levels of ability. There's no content warnings, it's just fluff.
Yanric realizing his best friend has feelings for a girl and immediately accepting his role as trying to encourage him to also realize his feelings and make a move.
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Aɲier stared out the window with dreamy eyes, so captured he didnt notice Yanric glancing at him across the room.
"You really are in love, huh?"
He scrambled to turn around, face becoming redder by the second.
"I- Im not!"
Yanric gave him a skeptical look.
"I know, I know, no lies. But its not, I.. I dont think thats what it is. Im just making sure she doesnt get hurt."
Out in the yard surrounding Aɲier's house, several dummies laid on the ground. Most displayed several deep cuts and slashes, a few were torn apart and scattered throughout the yard. Yanric counted a couple that seemed salvageable, but he didnt have much hope for them.
In the midst, was Zlata, braids flying with her every hit, arms and fists bandaged, raining knives against the dummies. She had been training relentlessly.
"You know, it has been atleast a couple months since she arrived. Im sure she can handle herself."
Aɲier sighed but didnt move. Oh, he was hopeless.
"In fact, I could take her to the palace, so she wont have to stay here."
Over the last few months, Aɲier had taken care of them. He had insisted neither left until he made sure they had recovered fully, which was quite alright with Yanric, an easy excuse to get out of his prince duties. And he always appreciated a good excuse.
When Yanric had seen Zlata's injuries, he'd carried her to the closest place to patch her up and get her some rest. That had happened to be Aɲier's house, which Yanric had just stayed at that night before he went out of town in the morning. The look on his best friend's face when he had seen Yanric come back that same night, accompanied by an unknown woman, both covered in bruises and blood, had been comical. Yanric would've probably laughed if the woman hadnt collapsed right then and there.
The woman, whose name was Zlata they had learned, hadnt spoken much to them at first. Aɲier had given her her own separate room, bandages and food. Everything she needed so she didnt have to interact with the couple of complete strangers she was currently living with.
Aɲier gave her space, mostly stammering a few greetings whenever she came in a room he was in and then falling in awkward silence, while Yanric had taken a more direct approach. He had tried to avoid the whole, prince of kalisie subject, and instead kept the conversation on some lighter ground. He'd learned quickly that Zlata didn't fancy talking about herself, which was fine. She had a grumpy air about her that stirred people away. But Yanric couldnt have given up that easily, and so he did what he did best. Irritate people. Poking fun at her revelaed she simply couldnt resist making witty remarks. It had become a bit of a habit by then. Yanric poked fun at something, and just as quick she chimed in, keeping up with his teasing remarks better than anyone else. More often than not she won, her sarcasm catching Yanric so off guard that he broke into laughter. He had appreciated her cleverness.
Yanric hadn't been sure what Aɲier thought of her, he wasnt really comfortable around strangers, until that moment. And when Anier hurried to reply, he had his answer.
"Its, its fine, I dont mind, really, she can stay." He laughed awkwardly, covering his face with his hand and starting to pace around the room. "And- it wouldnt be wise to just move her when she's still recovering, plus she should have a say in that, and the palace, is kind of a lot, you know, I just dont think-"
"Really? You’ll let a stranger live in your house? Touch your stuff? I’m sorry, is this the same Aɲier that nags me about letting me borrow a single book out of the library?"
"I rearrange that library like twice a week, you wouldnt know where to put it back, and what if you ruin it or leave it around," as he spoke, he was hit with what he was saying and buried his head further into his hands. "Its not that I dont trust you, of course I do, its just-"
"You don't like having people over, moving and touching your things. I get it," said Yanric reassuringly, smiling at him. The first time he'd gone to his house, Aɲier had reprimanded him for dragging mud in, grabbing a glass, moving the stuff on his desk, and by the end of their playdate, Yanric was standing stiff like a little soldier to stop himself from touching anything.
"Yeah, thats it!"
Aɲier seemed relieved.
"So how come she's allowed? You didnt even protest when your carpet got stained with blood."
"Im not a monster, she was injured!"
It had, however, been perfectly fine to scold Yanric for it.
"Fine, so what about that book she was reading earlier? You lent her that, no? We have been best friends for years. You've never lent me a book."
Aɲier dropped on an armchair next to the window, defeatedly sending longing glances to the yard.
"I could lend you a book?"
"You would?"
"No," he admitted, which got a good chortle out of Yanric.
They remained quiet for a while, sounds of poor dummies dying a slow, agonizing death coming from the window combined with Aɲier sighing every once in a while as he watched Zlata fight.
"You should tell her."
"No way. Look at her! She's so... And Im so... I mean, you said it yourself right, Im not a people person."
Neither seemed Zlata, Yanric thought.
"You have to be a very specific kind of watered down to be liked by everyone. Personally, I think you're amazing. And she could find you amazing too, if you werent such a chicken."
His jab only got a feeble smile.
"She's smart, you're smart, you can be a couple of nerds! Ohh she would love to see you make your little battle strategies."
Now he got a reaction.
"They're not little, they're vital! You have to study everything, the battlefield, your enemies weapons and overall historical strategies, your own weapons, the weather, not to mention of course the amount of troops available and their training and-"
Aɲier stopped himself, then blushed and gave Yanric a nasty look which he promptly ignored.
"See? Nerd."
"You have no right to talk. You were the one who asked me to make those."
"I recall it was you who acted like I was gonna die if I didnt have a good battle strategy."
"Thats literally how it works!" Aɲier exclaimed exasperated. Im not smart, you're just a dumbass, Yanric heard him think to himself, but there was a bigger smile on his lips now.
"You're really not going to say anything?" Asked Yanric, and Aɲier simply mumbled a few incoherent words.
"She did appreciate your training plan."
"Yes but I made it so she wouldnt overextend herself, and she never takes breaks! Like, like, right now!" He leaned out the window to check the state of the dummies and grimaced. "I- Im gonna go tell her to rest. She'll hurt herself if she keeps going like this."
And with that, he scrambled out of the room. Zlata would've been fine probably. Or perhaps he was right. Yanric's means of comparison was his brother, and he had trained day and night since he was a child.
Yanric walked up to the window. Zlata had finished torturing the dummies and had put on a fighting stance, practicing some jabs to the air. Aɲier showed up in front of her out of the blue and was almost punched to the ground. Huffing, Zlata helped him up, but Yanric had noticed how her powerful controlled and confident movements had changed when Aɲier had arrived. Now she stood with her arms crossed, her weight shifting from leg to leg as she carefully avoided looking Aɲier's face while he lectured her. When he leaned forward to check she was listening to what he said, Zlata's eyes widened, and she tensed up when he took her hand to check her bandages. Thing which of course Aɲier didnt notice, busy as he was hiding his red face after looking at her.
Could those two be any more perfect for each other and annoyingly oblivious about it? Yanric was going to have to intervene, wasnt he? Well. At least it wouldve been a fun story to toast at at their wedding.
