knightly_cub | (no subject)

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Thom was being chased across the ballroom. By all outward appearances he was simply crossing from one side to the other, pausing briefly to bow and exchange pleasantries with the prince, but Thom knew he was being chased as assuredly as a fox or doe knows to run from the sound of pounding hooves.

Not that his sister had such a heavy tread. Far from it. She had surprised him far too often for such an uncharitable thought to be accurate.

She finally cornered him by the balcony and yanked him outside in a swish of elegant silk or satin or some such finery in a delicate shade of... blue? Green? It was really rather hard to say standing in whatever moonlight managed to pierce the heavy clouds hanging over Corus. Thom blinked away the lingering brightness of the ballroom. "Grace," he said, resigned. "Hullo. Glad you're back."

"You sound it," she laughed brightly, smoothing her hands across his shoulders to make his tunic lie flat. "I've been looking for you, brother mine."

"Yes." A man being led to the gallows probably looked and sounded more cheerful. "I know. What do you want?"

Grace narrowed her eyes and looked as if she wished to argue the suggestion; she didn't. "I have a favor to ask. I'll make it worth your while," she added quickly, before he could roll his eyes and attempt an escape.

"So you always say. Somehow I still end up accountable."

Ignoring this, she continued, "I've made a bet with Maximus and I need your help losing it."

Thom stared at her, confused. "You wish to lose?"

"I do," she replied, a little too eager for his peace of mind. Grace patted her elaborately arranged hair and laughed, then tapped a finger against her lips. "I fear losing would do Max more harm than it would do me good, and I don't wish that on him. How could I?"

"I'm sure I don't know," he said, dryly. "What was the bet?"

"That he could -- or couldn't -- get you to, ah, allow someone's romantic attentions."

"What?" Thom felt himself turning as red as his hair.

"Your name just popped out, honestly. I am sorry for that. He was going on about his romantic prowess, you see, and there's this woman, Veradis, who clearly sees right through his nonsense, only he's too thickheaded to see what he's doing wrong. So I proposed our little game as a way to hammer the point home, but I fear his having to speak with her under my terms, should I win. He's simply not ready." Grace flashed her best smile.

"I-" Thom heard a sound like the ocean rising in his ears. "None of that made any sense at all, you realize."

Of course she knew. Of course. "Please, Thom? It isn't often I request help not winning."

"I'll give you that," he allowed, helpless in the face of that look -- which she also knew. "If I do this, I wish to make it perfectly clear I will be party to no further bets." Hadn't he already told Jamie just that? Repeatedly?

Grace nodded, lips suspiciously pressed together.

Thom said nothing for a long moment. "I'm still not sure I understand what you want me to do."

"Oh, just kiss someone. Make it look good," she answered, waving a hand in the air as if this wasn't asking him to do something totally out of character.

Thom groaned. "If it will help Max," he said slowly, "I will."

Beaming, Grace stood on her toes and threw her arms around his neck. "You are an exemplary brother, Sir Thom."

"No. Just a very tolerant one." He smiled thinly at her and wrapped an arm around her waist. It was good to see the horrid little bundle of trouble.

"There's one more thing..."

Thom groaned again.

He groaned more when he heard her out.

What she offered him in return, however, almost made up for it. For the first time in years, he went to sleep with new information on his uncle -- his namesake.

~ ~ ~

Milliways.

It usually made him smile, at least a little.

Not tonight. Tonight he's looking for Max and almost hoping not to find him, cowardly as that might be.

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"Well," he answers. To be honest, he can't imagine answering that question any other way.

Once that's settled, he valiantly keeps his brow from furrowing into a frown.

"I believe my brother ensures that none of them are ever lonely."

That prompts a laugh. "I imagine he is a bit much to live with."

Yes. Now imagine both of his siblings together.

"Thankfully I no longer do. How are you, Max?"

"Much as I always am," Max snorts. "Did you expect otherwise?"

"...no?"

Thom appears distinctly uncomfortable.

"Then Alera is also well, I gather." Where well means not at war or otherwise challenged.

Now what?

"As well as things can be expected to be, given all the changes and upheaval." Max shrugs. "We're managing."

He nods again. Managing is what they are trained to do, and that he understands.

"Are you currently out in the field?"

Max sighed. "No. Stuck in a freakin' garrison." And he hated that. Even if it was necessary.

"Whereabouts?"

Beat.

"I'm in Corus, myself. For the time being," he volunteers.

"The north," Max mutters unhappily. It's cold up there.

"Corus," Max nods. "So, away from Jamie, you should have plenty of time to practice your winning smile."

"You sound like mother," he almost laughs. "I-"

Inwardly, Thom groans for what must be the hundredth time since his conversation with Grace.

"I wasn't aware it needed work?"

"Oh, I'm sure it's fine," Max waves off-handedly. "But you can always use a bit of work.

"To what purpose?" asks Thom.

He thinks, then tries a small smile on for size.

"Well, with your brother off somewhere, you ought to get out there." You know what he means.

"Out there?"

Are you certain of that, Max?

But Thom does eventually remember why he's here and hazards, "You think I should take advantage of my brother's absence to... experience romance."

He says it the same way someone might inquire after the necessary.

"Of course!" Max declares brightly. "And, luckily for you, I know just the fellow to help you out."

"...help me out," repeats Thom, dully, "with romance."

Mithros, he hates his sister right now.

"Really."

"Sure! You've clearly got a lot to learn, after all." Max knew because Grace had implied it. And also because Thom wasn't draped with beautiful women. That was the only way you'd know you knew what you were doing.

"Do I."

Thom fails to stifle this sigh.

"For example?"

To hide his lack of surprise, Thom turns to the bar and quietly orders two ales.

"Well, for example," Max grins, ignoring the sigh. He leans back against the bar and nods at an attractive woman in a tight skirt and blouse at a narby table. "How would you approach her."

Taking his ale, Thom turns and stares at the woman.

A better question, he feels, is why.

"I wouldn't. She looks as if she doesn't wish to be bothered."

"She's alone, doesn't have anything she's working on, and keeps glancing this way." Well, that last part he's making up, but... it could be true.

It's definitely not.

"I think you're making that up," he accuses. "But I suppose I'd say hello."

"Would I do that?"

Well, of course he would.

"Anyway, after you said hi... then what?"

Then he'd stand there awkwardly, of course, looking like he'd rather be elsewhere.

"I'd... introduce myself?"