(or on Maven's first visit to the front, he meets someone new.)


Cal gently nudged his brother forward. Maven had seemed content to just take in his surroundings at first, but the fifteen-year-old reluctantly huffed and kept going like Cal silently told him to. The Nortan camps were flat and barren from countless hours, days, and weeks of fighting and working on their turf, but it was the closest that any safety could possibly be to the actual battle, and to the Choke. The only slightly striking thing about it was the snow covering the ground, for Maven had always been fond of snow, but that was that and that was all.

"What will you be doing?" Maven asked, glancing back to meet his brother's gaze, hesitant. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, though he didn't really need to due to his ability.

Cal's gaze softened. Clearly, Maven thought, slightly irked, Cal wanted to believe that he was a little boy who didn't know anything without his big brother helping him. There were royal guards following them everywhere - no, Cal, I don't need to be babied all the time, he practically ached to say.

"I have a meeting to go to." Cal inclined his head to one of the larger buildings that had been set up at the camp. "I hate to leave."

Maven grunted. "I'll be fine," he said, trying not to sound dry and quite clearly failing.

Luckily, his brother seemed to take this in whatever was the lightest possible way because he merely laughed and said his goodbyes before leaving. There was a moment of silence before Maven peered over his shoulder at the guards and said, "You are dismissed." There were clear protests on the guards' minds, but Maven straightened and said, "I have just been given a tour and I'm going to be fighting on my own eventually. I refuse to be-" he curled his lip "-pampered."

And then that was that. Sentinels could not refuse a direct order from their prince, especially without Cal or Elara there to insist they stay and overrule his order.

It made him very uncomfortable that he had the least power in his family. But he tried to ignore it as he set off.

He felt free to explore for now, because Cal's tour had really only shown him the outside of the buildings, and Maven had a feeling he wouldn't really be all that busy until the important meeting that Cal was needed in was over. Most likely he would only be needed when Cal was, as per usual. Maven continued to roam, inspecting the wintry camp silently. He had nothing to do but waste time in the chill until Cal was finished his meeting.

He stumbled across what was clearly one of the newer areas of the camp. There was some building that was being worked on, and a bunch of Reds were gathered around some wood, logs, and cement with hammers and saws and other tools Maven had occasionally seen in Cal's garage whenever he went down to visit. Some were chopping logs, some were trying to scrape snow off of the framework, others were measuring and working. They were all wearing hardhats, if that was what they were called - Maven never knew. Maven rubbed his hands up and down his arms, calling his ability to the surface to warm himself.

Suddenly, someone bumped into him. Another male voice let out a little "ugh".

Maven recovered from his stumble and whirled to face whoever had bumped into him. He opened his mouth to say something, realistically to bark at whoever had ran into him for bumping into a prince so carelessly. "Sorry," the boy in front of him grunted, ending that thought rather quickly. Sorry was a bit of a perplexing response, at least to Maven. If someone else had bumped into him and recognized him, they would probably grovel in hopes that he didn't run off and tattle to Cal. He still did have a bit of that reputation despite the fact that he was fifteen, with no need to tattle, and had also never been up to the front before.

So that must be it, Maven thought. He must not recognize me. "It's okay," he replied, hoping to sound normal.

The boy scrutinized him, so Maven scrutinized the boy as well. He had messy dark brown hair that seemed almost black, and brown skin clearly flushed with red, but he was paler than most of the other Reds that he had seen around Archeon and Summerton. His eyes were brown, too, but were sharp and alight with something like mirth, as though he'd just heard a joke. The Red was wearing the same outfit as all of the others around the building with the exception of a scarf tied around his neck, so Maven assumed he was a worker here for one of the permanent buildings. One of those hardhats was tucked under one arm, and a box full of tools like one Cal often carried was held in his other hand.

The boy let out a breath. "Shouldn't you be with your legion?" he asked.

Maven inwardly thanked the fact that he was tall enough to be mistaken for a rather short eighteen-year-old and at least a little muscular from all the training. And the fact that he was an excellent liar. "Ours was… ambushed." He put a little sadness into his voice while still trying to maintain a gruff tone. "Too many of us were injured - couldn't keep going on our own, so they pulled us back."

"Oh," the boy said. He frowned. "That's awful." He had an accent, Maven noticed. Hardly detectable, but there. He couldn't quite make out where it was from.

Maven wasn't quite sure how to respond, so he said, "…Yeah, it is." And then, to avoid the subject, "What are you working on?"

"'M not quite sure," the boy said. "Was just gonna bring them some tools. I come from one of the slums in the north, see," he added at Maven's surprised look. "So 'm just here with some more guns and tools and I work on 'em whenever they break or whatever."

"…You're here for life?" Maven asked, a bit concerned.

The boy laughed. "No, no!" He shook his head. "They'll send me back eventually, y'know. To the slums." His voice sounded a bit sad. Maven almost felt sorry for him. He had seen the slums from the outside, and they weren't all too pretty. To think of even living there… Maven shook himself. He wasn't supposed to feel sorry for Reds.

"Anyway, doesn't matter. Not really." The boy waved his hand as he continued to ramble, as if waving off a fly. "Just gotta enjoy my time here, yeah? Though it must not be as fun for you." He cast Maven a wary look like he thought he was being offensive.

Maven wracked his brain for a response before replying, "Yeah, I'd give anything to be back home." He frowned just to add a bit of realism to the whole thing.

It seemed he picked the right thing to do, because the Red didn't look suspicious at all, only nodded sympathetically. There was a little pause, and Maven was about to speak again when the boy dropped his hardhat and gently tugged the scarf off his neck. He held it out to Maven, who merely stared, stunned. "Go on, take it," urged the boy. "You look kinda cold. I'm used to this sorta weather."

Gently, Maven slid the scarf from the boy's hand and wrapped it around his own neck. He didn't need it, what with his ability keeping him warm and all, but with it on he felt a million times warmer already. He smiled at the boy.

"I'm Thomas, by the way," the worker told him.

"I'm Maven," replied the prince. He wanted to hit himself for telling Thomas his real name, but at the same time, Maven felt like he deserved to know it. "Nice to meet you."

And that was that.


also posted on tumblr and probably gonna be posted on wattpad but im actually really proud of this so! yeah