Ever since I heard that Roland and Cedric grew up in the castle together, I started thinking about what happened to bring them to the way they act around each other during the show. I'm not 100% satisfied with how this turned out, but oh well. (Rated T to be on the safe side for alcohol use at the end, since this is, after all, a kid's show.)
( 7 | 10 )
It was midnight, and the kitchen was silent – except for the soft sound of two pairs of feet tiptoeing across the cold stone floor. The outline of two children could be seen faintly in the darkness.
The one in front, taller than the other, came to an abrupt halt, and the one in back bumped into him.
"This is it," the taller boy whispered.
The younger boy muttered something under his breath. A small gleam shone from the tip of the wand in his hand, providing just enough light to see the counter and cabinets above it and revealing their faces. "Give me a boost," Cedric whispered back.
Roland obliged, cupping his hands to make a step for his partner-in-crime, and Cedric scrambled up onto the counter, holding his wand between his teeth. "Do you see it?" Roland asked as Cedric opened the cupboard.
Cedric grinned. "Yeth," he replied, the word impeded by the wand in his mouth. He grabbed the cookie jar and turned to hand it down to Roland.
Then a light came on, and they heard the head chef shout, "Oh, I've got you now, you little rascals!"
The jar slipped from Cedric's grip, and Roland jumped out of the way just in time before it shattered on the stone floor.
The head chef stormed towards them. "Your fathers will be hearing about this, mark my words!"
Roland grabbed Cedric's arm and pulled him down off the counter, trying to make a break for it, but it was too late. A pair of meaty hands descended upon them and grabbed hold, jerking them to a stop.
"You lads are in a world of trouble," the head chef growled.
…
King Roland I and Goodwin the Great stood yawning in the kitchen, as the head chef stood before them with two abashed boys in his iron grip.
"Gregor, why is it you've called us down here in the middle of the night?" the king asked.
"This better be good," Goodwin added warningly.
"Oh, it's no good at all," the chef replied. "I caught these little hooligans stealing cookies."
Both fathers turned disapproving looks onto their children.
"It's my fault," Cedric blurted, stepping forward.
Prince Roland grabbed Cedric's shoulder and pulled him back. "No, it was my idea," he said. "I suggested it – Cedric was just following along."
King Roland pursed his lips. "No matter whose idea it was," he said, "you are both equally responsible for your actions. Roland, I will see to it that all your teachers each give you an extra assignment, and no dessert for a week."
"And the same goes for you, Cedric," Goodwin said, glaring at his son.
"To your room," both men said simultaneously, pointing towards the kitchen door.
The boys slunk guiltily past their parents and into the dining hall. They were silent for a while, and then, as they were walking down the hall, Roland said, "You don't need to try to take the blame for me."
"But someday you'll be king, and I'll be your royal sorcerer," Cedric protested. "It'll be my job to protect you!"
"That's the thing, though," Roland replied. "If I'm going to be king, I need to be honest, and that means owning up to my mistakes. But I'm glad you feel that way," he added, grinning at Cedric. "You'll make a great royal sorcerer!"
Cedric shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at the carpet as it went by. "Dad says I'm no good at magic," he mumbled.
"Well, you're only just starting," Roland said. "You've got plenty of time. And once we're grown up, we'll be the best king and sorcerer team ever, even better than our dads!"
"You really think so?" Cedric asked, looking at Roland from the corner of his eye.
Roland ruffled Cedric's hair, and Cedric batted his hand away, blushing.
"I know so!"
( 9 | 12 )
"No, no, not that one!"
Roland looked at the stalk of bell-shaped flowers in his hand. "What do you mean?"
Cedric rolled his eyes, hands on his hips. "Those are hyacinthoides." At Roland's bewildered expression, he said, "Bluebells. We're looking for foxglove."
"You said shaped like droopy bells," Roland said. "What's the difference?"
"Only a big one!" Cedric replied, taking the bluebells from Roland. "These don't do anything. But foxglove can be used in medicine to help with heart problems." Looking around, he spotted the plant they were looking for. He trotted over and broke off a stem of it. "This is foxglove. See, the bluebells have that flare at the bottom, and this stays more like a cylinder."
Roland took the flower as Cedric handed it to him. "I don't understand how you can keep track of all this."
Cedric couldn't help feeling a little smug. It was rare that he was better at something than Roland was. "I have to. It's important to potion making. If you get the ingredients wrong, it can ruin the whole thing. Sometimes it's even dangerous."
Roland thought of how often Cedric came down from the tower with singed bangs and smelling like something burning. "Yikes."
Cedric picked another couple of stalks of the foxglove and put them into the basket on his arm. "Next, we need to find some belladonna, in the family solanaceae. It's poisonous-" he saw Roland blanch, "-but only if you eat it. It's also known as deadly nightshade, but used correctly it can be a pain reliever and muscle relaxant, and can even help with motion sickness."
"Why are you telling me all this?" Roland asked. "I just need to know what it looks like."
"If you're gonna do something," Cedric replied, "know what you're doing. And you never know. Learning a little extra information might come in handy."
Roland snorted and pushed Cedric playfully. "You nerd," he said.
Cedric grinned back, and plotted vengeance.
( 13 | 16 )
Cedric crossed through the castle gardens to reach the open stretch of grass where Roland was playing soccer with the three visiting princes. He hovered at the edge of the field, and was about to try to get Roland's attention, but Roland had already noticed him.
"Oh, hey, Cedric!" he called, waving.
The other boys came to a stop, one prince steadying the ball under his foot.
"Cedric?" said Prince Magnus. "Goodwin the Great's progeny?" The last word was laced with mockery, and the other two boys laughed.
Prince Roland didn't laugh, but he also didn't say anything.
"Hey, Cedric, show us some magic!" shouted the prince from Tangu.
"Better not," snickered Prince Quon. "He might accidentally turn himself into a toad or something."
Cedric's cheeks burned, and he looked down.
"Knock it off, guys," Roland muttered. "He's still just learning."
"My sorcerer, Greylock, is still learning," Magnus said proudly, "but he's already turning out to be grand."
Roland winced. He knew that Greylock was a sore spot for Cedric. Eager to change the subject, he asked Cedric, "Is there something you needed?"
"King Roland told me to tell you that the party's about to start and he wants you all back at the castle," Cedric mumbled, his gaze fixed on his feet. He was sure that his face was completely red now, and it made him furious with himself.
"Alright, party!" Magnus said, raising his hand to Roland, who half-heartedly high-fived him.
The three princes jogged towards the castle, bumping past Cedric. Roland followed more slowly, stopping to place his hand on Cedric's shoulder. "Sorry about the guys," he said quietly.
Cedric shrugged him off. "It's fine," he replied, stepping away.
Roland gave Cedric a doubtful look, but he moved on, sprinting to catch up with his friends.
Cedric stood there for a moment longer, silently fuming, clenching and unclenching his hands. Then he saw that they'd left the ball behind, and he stormed over and kicked it as hard as he could.
It rebounded off a tree and hit him in the face.
( 15 | 18 )
Cedric sat on his wooden trunk in the foyer, waiting for his dad to finish whatever business he had with the king. It seemed like it was taking forever, and the young sorcerer was left to stew in anxiety. He'd never been so far from home before, or for so long. Leaving to the academy had sounded so good – he'd finally be away from the castle, from his dad, from everyone who looked down on him – but now that it was finally happening, he was scared. He was going to have to start all over, all on his own. (Greylock was already there, but Cedric was determined to have nothing to do with him.)
It was a terrifying thought, to be alone. He'd thought that he was alone here, because he usually locked himself away in the tower, but now he realized that it wasn't entirely true. There were still people here he could go to. At the academy… there was no one. (Again, Greylock absolutely did not count.)
"Hey, Cedric?" said an uncertain voice behind him, and he twisted around. It was Roland.
"What?" Cedric asked irritably.
Roland rocked once on his heels, looking off to the side. "Just wanted to say goodbye."
"Well, goodbye," Cedric snapped, turning away again.
The corner of Roland's mouth tugged down. "You're gonna be gone for a while, huh?"
"Thankfully," Cedric replied, his back to Roland.
"Alright, well… good luck." Roland hovered for a moment longer, hoping maybe for some response, but he didn't get one, so he left.
Cedric rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes, suddenly and inexplicably feeling like he was on the verge of tears.
Then a hand was on his shoulder, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. "Ready to go, son?" his father asked.
"Y-" Cedric's voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "Yeah."
( 30 | 33 )
The castle steps seemed much longer than Cedric remembered, or maybe it was just that he didn't want to go up them. His stuff was already in the tower – he'd sent it ahead of him so he didn't have to lug it around himself. This way, he could slip as quietly into the castle as he could, and hopefully Roland hadn't set up some sort of welcoming committee. He made it to the front door without harassment and pushed it open, stepping inside. There was no committee, but there was a woman about his age standing in the foyer. She smiled when she saw him. "You must be the infamous Cedric," she said.
She was dressed in royal finery, and Cedric stooped into a bow. "And you must be the Queen," he said, cursing his luck. This was worse than a committee, though thankfully not as bad as Roland himself being there. He supposed he was going to have to meet the queen eventually, but he'd just hoped it would be after he settled in.
Queen Celeste curtsied back. "I'm sorry Roland couldn't be here, but he's in a meeting with some dignitaries. He'll be out soon."
Cedric straightened up. "Sounds important. Shouldn't you be there was well?"
She waved a hand. "It's dreadfully boring. Stuffy old men talking about stuffy old things. I thought it would be far more interesting to welcome home our Royal Sorcerer."
"I'm afraid it's not," Cedric replied dryly, trying to make his escape in the direction of the tower.
Before he knew what was happening, the queen had hooked her arm in his and was following him along. "Of course it is! I saw the servants bringing in your stuff earlier – perhaps I can help you unpack?"
Cedric quickly pulled away from her. "Absolutely not," he said. "I'd rather unpack in peace, thank you."
But it seemed that his sharp tone flew completely by her, and she continued as if he hadn't said anything. "I helped your father every now and then, so I'm not completely clueless. I'm sure-"
"Your Majesty," Cedric said, stopping in his tracks so suddenly that she walked a bit further before she realized that he wasn't beside her anymore. "I hate to be rude-" (a lie) "-but I have just come a very long way and I am in no mood to share my workspace with a sickeningly cheerful royal."
Celeste blinked at him in surprise, and then, amazingly, she laughed.
Cedric narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. "What's so funny?"
"You really are as cranky as they say," she replied, wiping the corner of her eye.
"And that amuses you, does it?"
"A little, yes." She hooked her arm in his again, and began to walk him towards the tower. "I don't think you're so bad, at all."
"Really, now," Cedric said, but he allowed himself to be pulled along.
"Indeed," she replied with a smile.
After that, she didn't make any more attempts at conversation, and they walked in silence through the halls of the castle. Cedric thought that they should look different, after fifteen years, but they looked exactly as he remembered, and that irritated him. Nothing had changed, and that meant that once he'd settled in, things would be exactly the same as before. For a moment, he almost missed the academy. Almost.
When they reached the tower stairs, Celeste bid him goodbye, and he climbed the stairs alone.
…
Cedric was almost done unpacking when he heard a knock at the door. "Come in," he said, bracing himself.
"Cedric," said King Roland II. "Welcome back."
Cedric turned to see him standing in the doorway, and whatever irritable response was on his tongue died. Roland had grown into his kingly title very well – he carried himself with a confidence that Cedric could never even begin to hope of achieving. Instead of anger, anxiety washed over Cedric.
"Th-thank you, Your Majesty," Cedric stammered. "It's, uh, it's good to have the old workshop back again."
Whatever response Roland had been expecting, it wasn't this – Cedric could see it in his face. "Well," Roland said. "That's good, then. I hear you met my wife?"
"Ah, yes," Cedric replied, twisting his fingers together. "Lovely woman, isn't she?"
Roland arched an eyebrow. "I heard you were pretty snappish with her."
"She seemed more amused by it than anything, Your Majesty," he said, cringing.
"She was," Roland said. "But it still shouldn't have happened. I want you to treat my family with respect, Cedric."
Cedric swallowed. "My apologies, Your Majesty. It won't happen again."
"See that it doesn't," Roland said, turning to go. "I hope you settle in alright."
The door closed behind him.
Cedric let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Something had changed during his absence. Roland had become intimidating. As a prince, he'd always had that air of royalty about him, a self-assurance that Cedric (scrawny and bookish) had been more than a bit envious of. Becoming king seemed to have increased that exponentially, so that it filled up every corner of the room with his sheer presence. And Cedric, completely unimproved, was left with no room to breathe.
Things weren't going to be as bad here as he'd thought.
They were going to be worse.
( 36 | 39 )
Cedric lurked around the edges of the ballroom, nursing a glass of champagne. How stupid could he have been? When you plant a mine, you don't stand in the blast radius. He could only assume that it was Sofia who had somehow found his counter-spell book and reversed the curse. She was turning out to be very clever. Getting that amulet from her was going to be trickier than he'd thought.
He drained the glass in his hand and put it on the tray of a passing servant, grabbing a fresh one in the same motion.
"Go easy on those," said a voice beside him. "If I'm not mistaken, that's your fourth one tonight."
Cedric nearly dropped the glass and turned his head sharply to see King Roland standing there. He'd been so lost in thought that he hadn't even noticed the king approach him. "Your Majesty," he said stiffly. "I'm surprised you were paying attention."
"You never attend these sorts of things," Roland replied. "I was curious."
"Yes, well, it's not every day a new member is added to the royal family," Cedric said, and the sour note in his tone was not lost on Roland.
"You might like them, you know," Roland said. "If you gave them a chance."
"And why would I want to do that?" Cedric muttered.
Roland hooked his thumbs in his pockets. It had been a long time since Cedric had back-sassed him in any way. There must be something he was really upset about. Roland side-eyed the sorcerer, who was staring intently at his drink. Cedric was a lightweight, and they both knew that if he had much more of that champagne, he probably wouldn't be able to make it up the stairs of his tower. The option of teleportation had almost certainly left with the previous glass.
Cedric caught him looking, and, knowing full what Roland was thinking, stared the king right in the eye and downed the rest of the glass in one go.
Roland sighed.
…
It was Baileywick who ended up helping Cedric back to his room, and a drunk Cedric was not a fun Cedric. When sober, the sorcerer was prickly and unpleasant, and alcohol only made him worse, as well as more talkative.
"This is just what we need," Cedric said, waving his right arm in a wide arc. "Another little brat running around the castle!"
Baileywick rolled his eyes and adjusted the way Cedric's left arm was draped across his shoulders, keeping the sorcerer upright. "Sofia is a sweet young girl," he admonished.
"Ha! And I'm the Empress of Wei-Ling!" Cedric shook a finger under the steward's nose. "Children are not to be trusted, Wicky. They have hidden depths."
"Please never call me that again."
Cedric tripped on a step, but, with Baileywick's help, managed not to fall. "Oh, Roland's just pleased as punch, I'll bet. Got the whole family circle complete again." The words were blurry around the edges, but the bitterness came through loud and clear.
Baileywick pursed his lips. If there was one person in the castle Cedric tolerated, it had been the former Queen. The sorcerer would never admit it, but her death had hit him hard. After her passing, Cedric had only become more surly and withdrawn. Baileywick wasn't sure what kind of connection they'd had (though he was certain it hadn't been anything romantic), but it had slowly become clear that it must have held some measure of significance to Cedric. It was likely the heart of his resentment towards this new union stemmed from that. "Miranda isn't meant to be a replacement," Baileywick said.
"I know that," Cedric snapped, then, quieter, "I know that." They had almost reached the top of the stairs, and Cedric pushed away from Baileywick. "I can take it from here, Wicky," he announced, and immediately lost his balance.
Baileywick caught him, though he had half a mind to drop the drunken sorcerer. Instead, he dragged Cedric up the last few steps and shoved him into his workshop. "Drink some water," Baileywick told him, and slammed the door shut.
Cedric brushed his robes off and shot an indignant glare after the steward. "Old man needs to take that stick out of his… his…" He clapped a hand over his mouth, going white as a sheet, and raced over to his cauldron.
Wormwood put a wing over his eyes and tried to block out the sound of retching. Honestly, the things he had to put up with sometimes.
( pending )
Cedric sat on a bench in the garden, basking in the summer sun – a rare activity for him, but even he had to admit it was a pretty nice day.
A shadow fell over him, and he looked up to see King Roland. "What are you doing here?" Roland asked curiously, with a tinge of surprise.
In lieu of an answer, Cedric gestured at the flower patches a little ways away, and at the girl moving among them with a basket, accompanied by her usual animal entourage. "She insisted I come along."
"I see," Roland said. "Mind if I join you?"
Cedric scooted over on the stone bench to make room, and Roland sat. They watched Sofia in silence for a while, and then Roland said, "Remember how we used to collect herbs for your dad?"
"And I tricked you into picking Meddlesome Myrtle?"
Roland laughed. "And I got you back by hiding some in your sock drawer."
"Our fathers were furious," Cedric said, a small smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.
"Our fathers were always furious," Roland replied. "We were terrible children."
"We really were," Cedric agreed.
There was another moment of quiet before Roland continued: "But I was talking about how you would teach me the differences between the plants and flowers we were looking for, and what each one did. I would have been happy to just pick them and wouldn't have wondered, but you insisted. You always said-"
"If you're gonna do something, know what you're doing," Cedric said. "Yeah, I remember."
Roland looked down at his hands. "Those were the days, huh?"
Cedric didn't reply right away, watching as Sofia said something to her rabbit and laughed at whatever response she got. Eventually, he said, "I guess they were."
"I'd like-" Roland hesitated, twisting his fingers together. "I'd like us to make amends."
When Cedric looked away, Roland added, "If only for Sofia. We're both very important in her life, and I know it hurts her to see us always at odds."
Cedric's jaw clenched, and Roland could see the gears in his head turning. Invoking The Sofia Card was a good way to get Cedric to do anything, and Roland suddenly felt like he'd taken a cheap shot. "But mostly," he said, "I'd like to do it for us."
"Do you remember the time you told me we'd be the best team there ever was?" Cedric asked suddenly.
"After Gregor finally caught us stealing cookies?"
"That's the one." Cedric turned his face upwards. "I really held onto that, you know. Whenever I was having trouble with a spell, I kept trying because we were gonna be a team, we were gonna be the greatest. But you grew up faster than I did, you made more friends, different friends, who only knew me by a reputation that was pretty terrible. I got left in the dust."
"You never told me," Roland said quietly.
"How could I? You were one of the cool kids, you were the king's son, and I was a loser struggling in my father's shadow."
Roland fell silent. "I guess I should have realized," he said after a moment. "I thought you were pushing me away. You barely wanted to say goodbye when you left for academy."
Cedric shrugged. "By that point, I was. And when I got back, you seemed to want little to do with me, anyway."
"When you got back, you were ill-tempered and reclusive," Roland replied. "All I knew of you by then was what I'd heard, none of them good things, and you never seemed to do anything but prove them to be true."
"I hated you," Cedric said casually, like he was talking about the weather. "For a long time."
Roland thought carefully about how to respond to this. In his head, there were two Cedrics, separated by a fifteen-year gap. The first Cedric was the one he'd hung out with as a kid – a comparatively friendlier, softer Cedric who had looked up to Roland. The second Cedric was the one who'd come back from academy – a distant, nervous, angry Cedric who sometimes went out of his way to be unpleasant.
But, as he sat next to his royal sorcerer, Roland realized that there was a third Cedric forming – a Cedric who waited patiently in the garden sun for a young girl to collect flowers.
To the first Cedric, he would have said, "No you don't, nerd."
To the second, he would have said, "I know."
To this one, he asked, "Do you still?"
"No," Cedric replied, and for a moment Roland thought he almost looked disappointed by that fact. "But I am still a bit bitter."
"You're always a bit bitter about something," Roland said, before he could stop himself. "I'd be worried if you weren't."
Unexpectedly, Cedric laughed – a real laugh that Roland had forgotten existed, and even Sofia looked over in surprise. "Perhaps we've both made our mistakes," he said.
"I know we can't wipe the slate clean," Roland said, holding out his hand. "But maybe we could start a new one?"
Cedric's eyes flicked from Roland to Sofia (who was now watching them curiously) and back again. Slowly, he slid his hand into Roland's. "Yeah," he said. "I think I might like that."