A/N: As per usual, I am procrastinating on schoolwork, but what else is new?

"Here, I saved one for you." Tegan unwraps a tart from a cloth and hands it to him. Sometimes she finds him on his Crown Guard shifts. "It was on my way," she explains, but he doesn't understand how the royal stables can be on the way to anywhere.

He's going to get fat if he keeps eating all the delicious food she offers him. Soren takes a bite before even figuring out what flavor it is. Not apple, not cherry, and not raspberry or strawberry… "Lemon?"

She shrugs. "I wanted to try something new." She wrings her hands together and squints nervously at a black horse. It whinnies and she jumps, clinging onto his arm.

Soren's about to laugh, but can't manage to make himself after feeling her fingers clutch onto his sleeve. He suddenly can't think. He achieves in choking out something. "Are you scared of horses?" Okay, maybe that came out a little more condescending than he would've liked. She removes her grip on his arm and he regrets saying anything.

The stables are fairly clean, but Tegan is able to find a stray piece of hay and poke at it with the tip of her shoe. "Not really. It's just… they're so big." While her head is down, he can see the tops of her braids. How do girls do that with their hair?

"Come here," he finishes his delicious tart in a final bite, grabbing her fingers with his clean hand. Maybe he imagines it, but he thinks her grip on his hand tightens when he touches her.

Soren stops in front of a stall, clicking his tongue at the black horse – Desiderius. Tegan tenses when he pops his long nose over the wooden wall. Soren puts his free hand on Desiderius's snout. "See? He's not scary." Pulling her in front of him, he places her very soft and small hand onto the horse's neck. Maybe it's a mistake to still be holding her hand, to have his broad chest against her back, but Tegan doesn't say anything, so Soren doesn't move. He doesn't want to move. Ideally, he'd stay there for a long time.

"Have you ever ridden a horse?" He asks, and his voice sounds too loud for their nearness. Entranced, he strokes one of her long, auburn braids. He wonders what she looks like with her hair out of them.

Tegan shakes her head, and now Soren is very aware at how he is still touching her hand. "We don't have enough money for a horse. My papa walks to work and I live here, so we don't need one anyways."

He feels silly for asking. She strokes the horse once by herself and Soren's silliness dissipates into pride.

She turns to face him. "My hands smell like horse now." Tegan stares at her hand like maybe if she looks at it hard enough it'll clean itself.

Then he has an idea. An idea so brilliant it almost rivals the idea to go visit her while she was taking her break. "Let's meet tomorrow," he says, reaching past her to pat the horse again, "and I'll take you horseback riding."

Tegan hesitates. "I'll have to talk to Barius, but okay." She doesn't move and it allows Soren to enjoy being this close to her a moment longer. "Is there anything I should bring or do?"

He shakes his head, too excited to actually answer her with words.

"Okay then. Tomorrow." Before he can say anything else, Tegan rushes out of the stables and Soren needs to melt against a wall to regain his composure.

A date! He has a date with Tegan!

He straightens, a bead of sweat rolling down his brow. Soren has not thought this far ahead. Where will he even take her? It must be somewhere impressive to win her favor. What do girls like doing? Soren does not know. He's never been so interested in a girl that he's thought about what she might like.

He thinks of Claudia. She's different, he reminds himself. She liked magical bugs and reading spell books and being with Dad. Tegan isn't like Claudia. Soren feels an unexplainable surge of bitterness, but pushes it down in favor of thinking about Tegan.

He distracts himself by thinking of the feeling of her soft hand in his, the nearness of their bodies as they talked in the stables. Now, he is thoroughly distracted.

Tegan looks stunning, as per usual, her trademark braids draped elegantly over her shoulders. Soren's only problem is with her skirts. Maybe he didn't think this through.

"I don't know if I feel comfortable riding a horse," she very hesitantly reaches up to let Erasmus, a handsome chocolatey mount, sniff her palm.

"No worries," Soren sweats in the blistering heat, but also at the unexpected obstacle. He's brought out Desiderius and Erasmus to ride, but the latter looks like a no-go. Besides, Tegan knows Desiderius better. "You can ride with me." He likes that idea. That means she'll have to hold onto him. "No worries," he repeats dumbly, meaning it this time. "Do you want to sit in the front or the back?"

"Uhm," she gives Desiderius's shoulder a gentle pat, jumping closer to Soren when he swishes his tail. "Which is safer?"

Soren puffs out his armored chest. "It's either I hold onto you, or you hold onto me." Is this flirting? Soren's a master at it.

Tegan laughs loudly at his stance and words. He feels stupid only for a brief second before he fully appreciates her bright smile. She's been smiling and laughing around him more lately, and every time she does he wants to jump into a river to cool off. She sobers in a moment, flushing a bright red. "I guess you can hold me."

Soren likes that. "Do you need me to help you up?"

Tegan nods.

Soren stands behind her, hands on her thin waist. He's nervous. "Okay," why is his voice so shaky? "Put your left foot into the stirrup, and on three I'm going to lift you up and you'll swing your other leg over." He readjusts his grip. "One, two, three!" Maybe he's too strong for his own good, because Tegan has to hold onto the saddle horn to avoid completely tipping over to the other side.

She's laughing nervously. "I am on a horse."

And what a sight that is. She sits up straight and rearranges her skirts. Soren hops onto Desiderius with ease, hoping the action impresses her. She scoots forward and he situates himself behind her.

Tegan smells like baking and sunshine and a very nice soap he couldn't tell anyone the scent of. Soren reaches past her to grab the reins and probably imagines the way her breath hitches as he leaned forward.

He starts the stallion at a comfortable walk. "Is this okay?"

She nods, but Soren can tell she's transfixed with the tall trees in the forest they're walking through on either side of them. "It's beautiful," she mutters.

Soren mumbles an agreement, but he's more focused on her than the nature around them. Stars, she's beautiful. Soren has fallen hard.

"Are you staring at me?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

They're silent.

"Do you want to go faster?" Soren asks, attempting to break the ice.

She shrugs. "That could be fun."

Adrenaline coursing through him at the idea of picking up pace, Soren kicks the flanks of the horse, and it breaks into a canter. At that pace, they make it to their destination quickly. Soren sees the swimming hole before he pulls Desiderius to a stop. Just as he had hoped – no one is there.

Soren slides off the mount, touching his toes in a stretch.

"Soren," Tegan clears her throat gently. "Can you please help me get down?"

Oh! He apologizes, reaching his arms upwards to hold onto her slim waist again. He tries very hard not to think about how her hands are on his shoulders as he carefully-as-possible lowers her to the ground. She screeches suddenly, and before Soren has time to blink, the wind is knocked out of him and he's on his back on the dirt. There's a pressure on his chest.

Tegan.

He winces, but when he opens his eyes, he's face-to-face with her. Her mouth is parted in shock, and an angry red climbs her cheeks and ears. She swallows. "S-sorry!" She scrambles off him, quickly standing and brushing off her skirts.

"It's okay," he says, equally flustered. He honestly wouldn't have minded if she stayed there a little longer, but inner-Soren tells him it might not be appropriate to wish that out loud. "Well, here we are." He swings his arm to gesture at the glistening pool. The water looks sparkly and heavenly in comparison to the scorching heat. Soren makes quick work of removing his armor and boots. He curls his bare toes into the soft grass under his feet, stretching upwards like a cat, soaking in the sun.

"What are we doing here?" Tegan asks, rolling up her sleeves.

"We're going swimming!" He does not understand how she couldn't have gathered that for herself, but he doesn't mind announcing it to her.

She scuffs the toe of her boot on the ground. "Oh. I don't know how to swim."

The stress-sweat returns. It's not very fun swimming alone. All of Soren's plans are falling apart. Strategy-planning for battles is exciting and easy, strategy-planning for dates is not. "Well," he scratches his chin. "Maybe I could teach you?" Smart Soren strikes again.

Tegan bites her lip. "Maybe I'll wade for now. We'll see about swimming." She starts unlacing her shoes and Soren takes that as a win.

The Crown Guard removes his outer tunic, hesitating when he fingers the hem of his undershirt. Dare he take it off? Tegan may feel uncomfortable, but in all honesty, what woman wouldn't want to see his toned body? Abandoning his worries, he peels off his top. The sun is roasting hot on his shoulders, but Tegan's stare seems to be burning into him far hotter.

"You took off your shirt."

Maybe he made a mistake. "Is that okay?"

She's not meeting his eyes. They haven't been out in the sun long, but she's sunburnt on her cheeks. "Yeah, it's okay." She crouches down to dip her fingers in the water.

Soren resists the urge to push her in. Be kind, he thinks. He joins her, testing the water. "It's nice," he says.

Tegan nods in agreement. "Do you usually come here alone?"

He takes a moment to appreciate the nature around them – the sun, trees, birds, sticky summer breeze, before answering. "Yeah." She looks serene and stunning in nature. His voice goes quiet. "I'm glad you're here."

The light catches her growing sunburn. She mutters something and before Soren can ask her to repeat it, she stands and steps onto the sandy bottom of the pool.

The water has been warmed by the sun, but it is still refreshing on his feet, then calves, then hips. Upon seeing Tegan's confusion, he explains: "It's so hot we'll dry off quick." He falls backwards, letting the water rush past his ears. He likes swimming. He resurfaces and slicks back his hair. "You're getting really sunburnt," he tells her.

She clears her throat and looks away. "I burn easily."

"If you're that warm, you can come in the water."

She shuffles forward. "My skirts will get heavy. And I already said I can't swim."

Soren frowns, sloshing towards her. "I did say I could teach you. Let's try."

Tegan tongues her cheek. "I don't know…"

He takes her hands in his, shivering at the softness of them. "Just look at me and trust me." When she makes eye contact, he wants to melt. Eyes that others would see as muddy brown he sees as a rich chocolate instead. She's enchanting.

"You're staring again."

"Sorry." Soren walks backwards, heart pounding at the smoothness of her skin. The water reaches just below his chest – almost to her collarbones. Even under water her hands are warm.

What he wouldn't give to hold her close right now. This urge swells throughout his body and he leans forward, captivated. How has she not been proposed to yet? Who wouldn't want her? She's the most beautiful person he's ever seen in his life – including himself. The sand shifts underneath his feet, nature's way of telling him that it's not right, not now. He splashes backwards onto his spine, sinking down but still hearing Tegan's shriek of alarm, muffled by the water. He swims towards her skirts, wrapping his arms around her legs. He bursts from the water, hoisting the now-screaming Tegan over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Soren!" The laughter in her voice betrays her words. "Put me down!"

He barks a victorious laugh like a beast who's caught his fresh prey. Although he enjoys this moment, he sets her back down, arm wrapped tightly around her waist. Is it bad that he doesn't want to let go?

Her hands are on his shoulders and her eyes are bright with mirth. "You scared me. I thought you'd drop me."

"I'd never drop you." If he moves an inch closer he'd be touching noses with her. He'd like to touch her freckled nose. "Besides," he smirks, "I'm too strong for that."

She cracks a smile, slapping his bicep. "Just teach me how to swim already."

*line break*

They lie on the grass side by side, staring into the canopy of trees. Tegan pats her drying skirts, splayed out in a fan over her legs. Soren's chest is sore from laughing so hard, and the muscles in his arms throb with use from carrying her. It's a good throb.

"Thank you for bringing me here," Tegan says. "It's beautiful." She turns her pretty face to look at him. "Even though I still don't know how to swim." Her freckles have darkened in the sunshine.

Soren's cheeks heat at her remark. It's true, he spent most of his time in the deeper end of the pool making sure she didn't drown by holding her a little too close. She never even got a chance to try by herself. "We can change that!" In a swift motion he picks her up from the ground, holding her bridal style. He splashes in the water up to his knees, threatening to drop her.

Tegan screeches with laughter, wrapping her arms around his neck in order to prevent being hurled into the pool. "Soren, stop! My skirts are almost dry."

He gets euphoric off her laughter and wants to make her laugh again. He takes her advice though, not wanting to push his boundaries. Still carrying her, he wades out of the water, very hesitantly setting her down when he touches the grass.

"You didn't have to carry me all the way out, you know." She is smiling so softly, not moving away. Women are a mystery.

"I wanted to." His voice matches her volume. So easily he could touch her braid. So easily he could pull her against him again. He doesn't.

The setting sun feels hot on his spine. Tegan frowns. "We should get back." She walks to Desiderius, putting the incorrect foot into the stirrup. She doesn't get far before she realizes she's made a mistake.

He doesn't want the date to end. Knowing she's determined enough to leave without him, he joins her on the horse, and they canter in the direction of the castle in silence. It's dark when they return, and he helps her off the horse.

"Thank you for coming with me today." They're standing close again. He holds one of her hands in his, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. Soren wants to kiss her. The realization hits him like a stone wall, but after the time they spent today, he knows what he feels. His heart swells and has to curl his toes to avoid stepping forward and closing the distance between them.

Tegan clears her throat. "I had fun." Her words are a choked whisper. "Um, goodnight." She slithers out of his hold, popping his bubble.

Soren is solemn as he watches her run away. His heart is beating erratically due to uncertainty and certainty and nervousness and peace all at once. His feelings for her are set in stone. He cannot change them now, but he longs to know what she thinks of him. Is she only being kind and doing her duties by letting him spend time around her? Soren wants to know. He is confused and pining. If only there was a sign.

The day starts out wrong. Soren's body aches from swimming, lifting Tegan, and horseback riding. Although he regrets none of it, he is paying the price. Aside from that, his sleep was far from spectacular, mind and heart awake from thinking about the cook's apprentice. It only gets worse.

He is distracted as he trains, getting scratched by swords more than once. That's too many times. Seeing Tegan emerge from the kitchen to pass him a cup of water brightens him, but only briefly.

"You're bleeding," she takes his forearm in her hands, skimming over the light scratch with her fingertips. Goosebumps cover his shoulders. "We should get a bandage…"

It's at moments like these when he's confused by her. He is used to her scowl and her hesitancy, but then she goes and touches his arm with so much care and gentleness. "Don't worry about it." His voice sounds too harsh compared to her lilt.

She retracts her hands, fisting her apron. "Never mind then." Tegan returns to the kitchen.

He feels bad. He let his negative emotions consume him and affect her. It's not fair to her. Soren is about to turn around and apologize, but a messenger beats him to the door. Mail carriers don't deliver mail directly to servants unless they're marked urgent. And mail is only marked urgent when…

Soren prays the letter is for Barius. It's cruel, but he doesn't want that sort of pain inflicted onto Tegan. She doesn't deserve it.

Tegan bursts out of the kitchen a moment later, eyes red, parchment clutched in her hand. She sends a fleeting look to Soren, shooting the worry straight into his heart before she picks up her skirts and runs in the direction of her room.

Dropping his sword, Soren rushes after her. He pushes his own hurts aside, catching her wrist in the servant's hallway. "Hey, what's wrong?"

She whips around to face him, tears streaming down her freckled cheeks. Not being able to stop himself, he wipes one away with his thumb. "It's Francis," she chokes out. "He's sick."

Soren thinks of Tegan's little brother, usually happy and energetic, lying weakly in a bed. He grips onto her shoulders. "Sick? With what? Is the rest of your family okay?"

Tegan wipes her nose with the back of her hand. "They think it's a fever. Everyone else is okay for now, it's just him." She draws a shuddery breath.

"What does the doctor say?"

She avoids his eyes. "We don't have a doctor."

What? Who doesn't have a doctor? "No one has looked at him yet?"

Her mouth is set in a firm line. "No."

"Why not?" He wants to shake her. Why don't they just get a doctor?

"We just don't have one." She looks more angry now than sad, but Soren doesn't know why.

Is he not understanding something right now? What is he missing? "Get a doctor! Do you not care for Francis?"

Her eyebrows draw together in fury. "How dare you say I don't care for my brother." She's not yelling and somehow that's scarier.

"If you care for him then, just get a doctor!"

"We can't!"

"Why not?"

"Because we can't afford one, Soren!" Her chest is heaving and she shakes off his hands. "We can't afford one," she repeats, defeated.

Oh. Now he feels like a jerk, and he is a jerk. How inconsiderate of him to think that everyone can afford medical help! He stands silent, dumbfounded.

Tears are streaming down her face again and he hates that he's hurt her. He longs to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but he figures that's the last thing she wants right now. "I'll be back," he says, and he leaves her.

Soren sprints to the stables, hopping on top of an unsaddled Desiderius, kicking his flanks. The horse gallops into town, and Soren leads him to the familial house he so fondly remembers. "Where is he?" He cries after letting himself in the door.

Mira clutches her chest in surprise and smiles at seeing him, but he can see that her eyes are red from crying and she's weary from worry. "Francis? Oh dear, he's in bed. You shouldn't be here. We don't want you getting sick." Her words are dripping with motherly concern and he wants to obey her, but instead opens the bedroom door.

He's grateful to see Harper and Ignatius playing without care. They cling onto his legs when they see him. "Soren!" They shout in unison. He scoops them into his arms, looking down at Francis who is sweating underneath a thin blanket. His eyes are squeezed shut.

"Francis isn't feel good." Harper mumbles into Soren's shoulder.

"I know," he whispers, dread seeping into him. He sets the two of the triplets down, wrapping Francis in the blankets. He shivers at being moved. "I'm going to take Francis to the castle so the doctor can look at him," he tells Mira.

"We can't afford it, dear," she places a soft hand on his bicep. Her eyes say that she knows what will happen if her son isn't taken to get medicine.

"I'll take care of it. Don't worry about the costs."

Tears well in her eyes and her lip trembles. "Tell us how much we owe you and we'll pay it back."

"You don't owe me anything," he reassures her. "I don't want your family to experience any hurt. None of you deserve it." His heart pangs as he thinks of his own hurt but shoves it away. It's not about him.

He leaves the household, Francis in his arms. Soren looks at Desiderius. Maybe he didn't think this through. Will he be able to safely bring Francis back to the castle on top of a horse riding bareback? How can he even mount an unsaddled horse without using his arms? Sighing at the inconvenience, Soren clicks his tongue to get Desiderius to follow him and starts walking.

They arrive at the castle later than he likes. Although Tegan's house isn't far by horse, carrying a feverish bundle in one's arms while making sure a horse stays focused is draining. Add on the emotional exhaustion of worry for Francis, the other two brothers, Tegan, and her parents, and you get Soren: worried beyond belief and praying furiously for Francis to make the trip.

"I need a doctor," he tells the guard at the front gate. His voice is calm and rational, but his heartbeat is erratic. It's summer, but does the air effect Francis?

The guard nods and does as he's told, and Soren doesn't need to wait long before a nurse escorts him to the infirmary.

He's been here a few times before and never liked it. It's a sterile place that's too quiet and reminds him of being alone. He doesn't like being alone. Soren refuses to let himself dwell in his own negative emotions, and he lays Francis down onto an empty cot. These cots are made for wounded soldiers in battle, not for sick children with fevers. The bed swallows him up.

"It looks like scarlet fever," the nurse says. She hasn't even taken a long look at Francis and Soren is temporarily impressed. That is, until he realizes that since it has an official name it must not be good.

He doesn't know what scarlet fever is. "I don't know what that is."

"The boy—"

"Francis."

"Francis—has a large red rash on his arms, chest and face. He's coughing and is feverish. As far as I know, those are all signs of scarlet fever, common in young children."

Soren frowns. He doesn't like that it's common in young children. How many untreated children have died? How many families have suffered? You're getting awfully morbid, he thinks, and it's true. He focuses on Francis only. "I'll get Francis's sister," he tells her.

As he walks down the steps, rubbing his smooth jaw, he ponders. How is he going to tell Tegan her brother has scarlet fever? Usually news like that is broken with the mindset that the patient will not recover. He doesn't want to be the bad guy, not again. He decides to tell her that Francis is in the castle and that he's covering the costs so she does not need to worry over it. She can visit Francis for herself in the infirmary and analyze the situation.

It's late afternoon by this point, and Soren's stomach grumbles in protest at his lack of breakfast. He takes a detour to the kitchen, wondering if Tegan will still be there after the news. Probably not. Despite that, he enters, snatching a warm baguette from the cooling rack before Barius can tell him not to. Tegan is nowhere to be seen, as he expected, so he drags his feet to the servant's hall, munching half-heartedly on his bread. It's good, but he knows Barius made it so it's not nearly as good as Tegan's. He is also biased.

He reaches her door, knocking softly before turning the knob. There is no sound from inside, so Soren peeks through a small crack in the door.

Tegan is gone.

A/N: Don't ask me how often I think about how toned a 21-year-old Soren would be...