A/N: I feel like a total fail not having another chapter of "Once Upon a Time" out, but I have to admit I'm struggling with that story. It's going to take a while longer unfortunately, but I have a new chapter of "The Villain's Guide" halfway done, so I should have that posted soon.
My hubby is reading through this for me, giving me his helpful criticism, and he made me laugh out loud after this chapter. He asked why Carl is such a bastard and I told him what Carl's true motivations are and how I was saving that for a later chapter and he said 'oh good cause I thought he was just a dick for sport!' I promise, you won't like him any better, but we'll eventually find out what's motivating his dickery!
6.
"Sofia!"
Behind Cedric were Sofia's friends the trolls.
They jumped down from the coach, slipping and sliding as bare, green feet made contact with the ice. It bothered them not one bit and there was laughter as they each found their balance. Once they were all out they rushed to her and despite the hard lump of misery sitting in her stomach, or maybe because of it, Sofia bent down to give them all extra long hugs.
"Gnarly! Teeny! Chief Knuckles!" She picked out her three dearest friends from among the group to hug again. "I'm so glad all of you are here!"
"Oh Sofia we're so excited! We can't wait to decorate the new caves!" Teeny squealed while the other trolls added their enthusiastic agreement.
Standing back to her full height Sofia looked down at them hoping they would mistake her tears for watering at the stinging cold.
"I can't thank you all enough for being here." She raised her eyes to the dark, silent figure still standing by the coach. "It means the world to me!"
The trolls all exclaimed again, but Cedric remained dark and silent, staring at her with frigid eyes.
What she couldn't know was how deeply the sight of her affected him. How even the first glance of her from the coach, shivering against the bitter wind in nothing but a low necked gown, had re-fractured the still fragile foundation of him.
Standing back now, watching her with her friends, all happy smiles and pinked cheeks, he felt raw and gutted beyond anything the hellish temperature could induce.
He'd been preparing himself for days, packing his things, overseeing the loading of the supplies he'd need, and steadying himself so he could greet her with the same distant disdain she'd shown him all these months.
He'd told himself he was past the feeble pleading for forgiveness with which he'd debased himself the first weeks after she fled his workshop. Causing him to chase her down halls and corner her in odd rooms of the castle begging her to please understand and return to their friendship. Even as he'd been forced to finally acknowledge, if only to himself, what he felt for her was no longer friendly.
He was past the searing rage of betrayal which had nearly consumed him when he realized she wasn't going to forgive him. Oh she was a sly one, he'd seethed. Unlike everyone else, who belittled or discounted him, she'd made him believe she cared, that she thought he was truly special. And then she'd cast him off the very first time he refused to give her something she wanted.
In his blackest rage he'd been terrified by the violence of his own emotions. He wanted to bring her low! He'd wanted to make her feel even half the agony he was suffering. He'd wanted to rip her open, tear the black, forsaking heart from her beautiful breast and crush it before her eyes!
The last thought had sickened him so utterly it finally sapped the anger from him. In its wake all he'd felt, for months now, had been grief. A relentless, hollow aching for her that had destroyed his appetite and left him unable to sleep.
He'd never, ever been foolish enough to let himself hope she could feel for him what he felt for her. He was too far from her in age, in station, and especially in his nature. But he'd believed they would always remain friends. That she would think of him as a kindred spirit, even if she could never think of him as a woman did a man. In the end, even that had been a fool's delusion. And the only way to protect what was left of him was to close his heart to her.
And now he was even past the grief. He was past feeling for or even thinking of her!
Except maybe he wasn't.
"You don't care! You're done with her!" The voice in his head intoned, and Cedric tried very much to ignore the panicked edge it held. "You need to move on. You have moved on!"
"Your Highness, we should get everyone inside." Duchess Dusselstein's voice caught all of their attentions.
"Yes, you're right Your Grace." Sofia ushered everyone in, and they began walking down the long, opulent main corridor of the palace towards the banquet hall which she'd asked be set with tea and hot food for her guests.
"King Henrik wants to greet you all and thank you personally for your help!" She said as two servants opened the large double doors to let them pass through.
A heavenly scent wafted out of the huge dining room and Sofia saw all the trestle tables had been hidden away as well as the platform that usually held the high table. Instead a single, large one had been placed in the center of the room sumptuously laid for their visitors. The king sat at the head, a wide smile on his face.
"Friends!" He greeted, standing jovially, every inch the kind and friendly man she remembered from school plays and father daughter excursions in her girlhood.
It wasn't exactly a façade, as she found him almost always amiable, but Henrik was definitely putting his best foot forward. Freezenberg's king was far happier hunting and playing with his noble friends than ruling. Attempting to engage him on anything harder or more complex seemed to easily irritate him.
When she and Carl had brought him the plan to make Freezeberg self-sustaining he'd initially been rather blank, smiling and condescending to her about how it was nice she wanted to help out, but she should really leave that to the men he'd put in charge of running the country.
When she'd persisted, listing out the many obvious benefits of such a scheme and how it could be accomplished for very little, he'd first tried to pat her on the head and send her off to play, thinking he could tempt her with a visit to the jewel room or the promise of money for new dresses. Then he'd become agitated. It wasn't her place to question how his country was run.
It had taken all of Sofia's courage and people skills to swallow down the reprimand and politely continue on. In the end she suspected the King relented only out of fear that, like his youngest daughter, she wouldn't stop hounding him until he gave her what she wanted.
"Please come and warm yourself!" The King offered now, smiling and gesturing to the table laden with tea, warm spirits, hardy soups and thick steaming loaves of bread.
The trolls quickly took places around the table and, even though he seemed reluctant to leave the shadows, even Cedric was swayed. Sofia told herself it was because of the potato soup. It was his favorite, and she'd made the chef supremely uncomfortable when, instead of just bringing the recipe to the kitchen, she'd insisted on making it herself!
"Sofia, child, do you have you any idea where Carl is? He said he'd be here, but…." Henrik shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands expansively in a way which suggested it was just beyond him to control the boy. Something he seemed to think amusing, but was in fact telling of why his children were the way they were.
"No Your Majesty, I thought he was going to be here as well." She answered, trying not to reveal how deeply frustrating she found both the man in front of her and the one he'd sired.
"I'll go look for him." Anna-Grete offered.
"No, stay and warm yourself, you look half frozen." Sofia answered smiling at her friend before dashing for the doors. Much as she disdained the idea of voluntarily seeking him out, it was probably the better part of valor to take a few moments and remind Carl to keep his manners.
She reached his apartments quickly but found them dim and empty, the fire in his sitting room all but dead. Knowing he was always surrounded by his entourage of loud, unruly young noblemen she decided to try her luck in some of his other haunts.
Just as she was closing the door a sound like a gasp rung out from his bedroom.
"Carl?" She called out.
No one answered, but there was another noise, this time a grunt, and Sofia rushed forward thinking he might have fallen and hurt himself. Later she would realize how naïve that was, but in the moment her dislike of him receded before her general desire for the wellbeing of all those around her.
"CARL!" A woman cried out as Sofia burst through the double doors.
She found her husband on the rug by the fire, but he hadn't fallen, at least not by accident. He was naked, sweaty, and grunting with effort as he thrust into the equally naked form below him.
The woman screamed now and hid her head in Carl's chest as Sofia stood in the doorway gaping at them.
Her prince, on the other hand, seemed irritated, but otherwise indifferent at being discovered with a lover and continued to move inside his partner.
"I'm busy, what do you want?" He bit out.
"You're supposed to be in the banquet hall, greeting the party from Enchancia." She replied, her voice a dull monotone.
"Fuck I forgot." Her husband grumbled, his irritation peeking into peevish anger.
Vaulting up, he sauntered over to his bed, using the coverlet to dry his still erect member before throwing clothes on. Sofia hardly noticed. Her eyes were glued to the woman he'd left naked and shocked on the floor, struggling to sit up and cover herself at the same time.
The Countess of Ormandy!
When she'd done what she could for her modesty, Elena looked up at Sofia. Emotions crossed the blond's face with morbid speed and she seemed to be trying each one on, not sure what was appropriate for this particular circumstance. Proud defiance was first, but that faded rather quickly to be followed by contrition and finally a kind of pleading helplessness.
"Sofia…," she began, only to be cut off when Carl turned all his exasperation on her.
"Shut up and get dressed will you!" He barked.
Elena flinched at his harshness and hung her head, long, luxuriant gold hair falling around her face. Sofia decided not to stay and see what she decided to do. Instead she turned on her heel and stalked out the door.
As she made her way back to the banquet hall Sofia tried to stifle the tears that threatened to break loose. It disturbed her to realize how little she was concerned with the fact her husband was unfaithful. It should matter, shouldn't it? And yet that wasn't what had her coming undone. It was the knowledge someone she considered her friend, her very first friend in Freezenberg, had betrayed her like this that had her reeling.
Was it just a onetime thing or was Elena his regular lover? Why had she been pretending all this time to care for Sofia? Was it simply her job to feign friendship? Were there others, more of her ladies who smiled to her face while bedding her husband behind her back? Were they all laughing at her, mocking her for being a witless, unsuspecting simpleton?
"Sofia, wait."
It took everything inside her not to scream as Carl jogged up to her. He had opted not to dress fully, probably because he was incapable of tying his own cravat, and instead had gone for just a shirt, open at the throat, and a pair of knee pants and riding boots. With his hair mussed and his skin glowing from sex he looked wild and uncivilized, something she was sure would appeal to all the other women he encountered tonight.
Anna-Grete had said Sofia hated him, but up until this moment she'd shied away from examining the depths of her sentiments towards him. She wasn't used to feeling such strongly negative emotions about anyone, but she was ready to own it now. She hated him! She hated him so much she felt like she could easily lose herself in the seething disgust his mere presence elicited!
"I don't care and I don't want to talk about it!" She said, holding up her hand to keep him at arm's length.
"I'm glad you're not going to make a scene, but there is something we need to discuss and now seems a good time, all things considered. Come, let's do it while we walk." He smiled smoothly and took her arm, forcing her to wrap it around his own as he set a leisurely gait. "It's good you're taking all this so calmly. Everything is so pristine in Enchancia I feared you'd react like a nagging prude if you knew.
But you understand this is just the way of things. I'm a man and a Prince, it's expected you know, a sign of masculinity. All royal men have mistresses. In my Grandfather's day it was an official position."
They'd reached the banquet hall and the double doors opened to reveal the King, Duchess Dusselstein, the trolls, and even Cedric eating and enjoying conversation. It stopped when they arrived, and the rooms inhabitants turned to look at them. There was surprise on the face of the King and the duchess, and more kind smiles on the faces of the trolls. By contrast Cedric's had drained of what little color it had and he gaped at them with wide, unfathomable eyes.
At first Sofia didn't understand why, but then it dawned on her how they must look.
She was sure there was high color on her cheeks from her anger, and her hair and clothes had already been mussed by the cold wind on the roof. Carl was… obviously underdressed, and he had pressed her so close to him they appeared to be almost cuddling!
"Now you on the other hand…," he began, bending low to whisper in her ear, as though he were filling it with sweet nothings, "you are my crown princess. And as such the entirety of your position here depends on your providing me with uncontestable heirs. Which means you had better stay stainlessly virtuous.
You can turn those big, sparkling blue eyes on however many young, handsome men as you like. Or, since I think I already know where your heart is settled, feel free to glut them on that dark, crooked old shadow at the table.
Lust for him. Dream of him. You have a particularly expansive imagination, maybe you can even fantasize a scenario where he could summon the manhood to satisfy you!" Carl laughed in her ear, showing how probable he considered such a possibility. "But touch a single hair on that two tone head and I'll have it severed from his neck while you watch."
With that he planted a soft kiss on the shell of her ear and walked over to greet their guests warmly.
Under the table Cedric twisted at the fabric of his robes, trying to bear up against the pain of watching Sofia and her husband behave so intimately.
He shouldn't have come! He should have told her to go to hell, or sent her letter back unopened. Yes, even she would probably have understood she deserved that. But like the true glutton for punishment he was Cedric had dropped everything at her distant, impersonal summons and so he supposed he deserved this. It would be a lesson in not ignoring his better judgement.
Yet even in his suffering he found himself confounded. Had Sofia grown to care for her prince as Rolland believed she would?
Cedric hadn't thought it possible.
Sofia had declared so often, during the months Carl pursued her, that she could never like him. And though she was very young, Cedric had never doubted her. Sofia had about her a kind of odd maturity that had nothing to do with age. Though she tried to love everyone, she never did so blindly. She loved her sister while fully understanding Amber was a fickle, selfish, brat. She loved James and accepted the fact he was an easily swayed dimwit. She loved him, or at least Cedric thought she had, knowing full well he was an egotistical, maladjusted, curmudgeon.
Perhaps spending more time with Carl had allowed her find love for him too, even though the Prince was a spoiled, arrogant, asshole!
The part of him that wasn't small and petty and wounded, the part that had grown larger under the light of her goodness, admitted to hoping she had. If only because it would make her life here easier, her future better. And after all, hadn't that been a large part of his decision not to help her run away? The decision for which he'd lost the only read friend he'd ever had.
And yet to watch it…even he didn't hate himself that much.
Sofia and her prince finally pulled apart and took seats at the table. He at his father's right and she, surprisingly, on the opposite side next to Chief Knuckles. Conversation resumed and eventually turned to their plans for the mountain.
In all they would be here for two weeks, forming and fortifying the cave system first. Creating and mounting the cave crystals. Moving the soil and giving it time to defrost. Creating an entire city of living spaces and communal areas for the hundred or so families who would be farming Freezenberg's new food supply. And finally planting the first of the crops, using Cedric's own grow fast spell to make the initial harvest happen in a matter of days rather than months.
And when it was over, the King was going to create a new national holiday filled with feasting and celebration, in honor of him… and the trolls.
Despite the turmoil within, Cedric couldn't ignore the fact that if he pulled off his part he would finally have the acclaim and respect he'd always longed for. And yet he had no idea why Sofia had asked him to help at all.
Though she'd never gone for a formal trial before the masters she had been his student for many years, a gifted and eager apprentice who'd soaked up his knowledge and far exceeded his expectations. The task before them was daunting but he was quite confident she was a gifted enough sorceress to pull off the magic by herself.
A small, hopeful voice whispered this must mean she wanted to reconcile after all, but he squelched it. For some reason she wanted a sorcerer and, at the moment, Freezenberg had none. That was why he was here. Her letter had said as much. To hope for anything beyond that would only open him to the chance for greater injury.
In the end, the party had broken up and servants had been called to guide him and the trolls to their temporary quarters. The king admonished them to enjoy the luxuries and warmth of the palace as much as possible because once they traveled to Skjolder it would be a cold, rough two weeks under a sun which was rising later and setting earlier every day.
.o~O*O~o.
"You're doing it wrong!" Cedric snapped at her for the tenth time.
"I'm doing it exactly the way the spell book says!" Sofia snapped back.
This had been a mistake. There was no denying it now.
She'd hoped working together might help them find their way back to each other. Instead it was making everything worse. They'd been at Skjolder for five days and around day three Cedric's cold indifference had melted away.
Except what lay underneath wasn't the forgiveness Sofia had hoped for. Underneath, much like the molten pool which heated the newly made caves, was a scorching, seething reservoir of anger.
Cedric's coldness had been almost unbearable, but Sofia had born it. She felt she'd deserved every disdainful look and dismissive turn of his back, every frosty word or pointed silence. If she was going to say she was sorry, perhaps she should know how deeply painful it was to be treated this way.
But his rage was something else.
"Why are you even doing it at all?" He snatched the book away, throwing it on the cart which held the buckets of diamond dust they were making into cave crystals.
They had already made the ones that would shine all the time in the common areas of the caves. Those were the simplest. Cedric had also made ones which would light when a simple command was spoken, for the houses of the new farmers. And Sofia had offered to make the ones they would mount over the crops, shining for half the day and going dark for the other half.
She really hadn't needed too. Or she could have done it in another area of the work space, but she'd wanted to be near him. She'd wanted to try to talk to him again.
"I just wanted to help." She answered, backing away from his seething.
"I DON'T WANT YOUR HELP!" He screamed, advancing on her, obliterating the small amount of breathing room she'd made between them. "You summoned a sorcerer to make your caves and your crystals. If you wanted to do it yourself why am I here? If you want me to do it then just go back to your palace and play princess and leave the grown-ups to their jobs!"
They just stared at each other for a long moment both shocked by Cedric's venom.
Normally Sofia would have backed down. She hated arguing, especially with him. But she was cold, and nauseated, and more tired than she could ever remember being, and worse than that she felt guilty and wounded all in one awful, confusing jumble.
"I'm not playing at anything! I AM a princess! And all this is MY idea! I have every right to be here!" She bit back, her voice rising with each word.
Deep down she'd always supposed Cedric would forgive her. Maybe he would make her grovel a little. Maybe he would make her stew a bit first before bestowing his absolution. But eventually he would forgive her and they would move on, because she was Sofia and he was Cedric and she was his only friend, so how could he not forgive her? Instead her worst fears had been made reality. It didn't matter what she did, or said, he didn't want her apologies or her friendship any longer.
"Fine! Supervise all you want, your worshipfulness." He bowed low in exaggerated mockery. "Go pester the trolls about how their mounting the crystals, or bother the workman about how their laying the soil, but leave me alone! I don't need or want you around! I never did! You've never been anything but a thorn in my side and I'm well and truly glad it's finally been plucked out!"
Even as he said it, Cedric knew he'd crossed a line from which there could never be any returning.
He watched as she flinched back, like she'd been slapped literally as well as figuratively, and then she fled from him.
"Sofia, wait! I didn't mean it!" He called into the empty, echoing space.
How could he have said that?
He knew she'd wanted to talk. Sofia had been throwing herself in his path every opportunity she could since they got here. But he hadn't let her. Why? Why had the knowledge she finally wanted to mend their friendship only brought back all the anger, all the vitriol? He wanted her friendship back, didn't he? Wasn't that what he'd pleaded and pined for these last six months?
The rage in him whispered it was because she couldn't have it all her fucking way!
She couldn't throw him off when she pleased and then just have him back when that suited her better. And maybe his rage was right, but the better part of him was whispering too. Telling him if he really did love her, if he really did want her back, eventually one of them would have to be the bigger person, or things would just go on like this forever! Or worse, it would all stop and she would refuse to ever see him again!
Suddenly his feet were moving.
He would find her and apologize. He would hear whatever she had to say and then he would forgive her. And as much as it was possible he would make things just as they had been before. He'd never known anyone as forgiving, as grand hearted as Sofia. Surely it wasn't beyond her to forgive his outburst, not when he was willing to forgive her long silence!
Cedric searched for her everywhere, combing each of the caverns only to come up empty handed. Finally, he realized there was nowhere else she could be but outside. He hoped desperately that didn't mean she'd taken his angry advice and fled back to Freezenberg City.
Squinting against the waning sun, after hours of nothing but cave crystals for light, Cedric saw her. She was standing in front of a coach, but it wasn't taking her back to the capitol. It was bringing her husband.
"Sorcerer!" The man summoned with one arrogantly lilted word and an imperiously crooked finger. "Why is my wife crying?"
Cedric looked at Sofia to see her eyes were red rimmed and swollen, her face streaked with tears, and her shoulders shaking, even as she looked up at her husband with an expression of complete mortification.
"Your Highness I…." He should have answered truthfully. Should have told the puffed up pup everything, but Sofia interrupted.
"It's nothing Carl. I'm just tired and…emotional." She said the last word pointedly and he responded with a sage nod.
"Ah yes, I suppose that's to be expected." The odious shit actually chuckled. "I haven't had your congratulations yet Sorcerer." The prince went on as though Cedric should know what he was talking about.
"My congratulations?"
The younger man only laughed again.
"Indeed, it's not common knowledge yet, but I thought you and Sofia being so close, she would have told you already."
"Told me?" Cedric was beginning to feel like a parrot.
"Carl!" Sofia, put her hand on her husband's arm, trying to shush him to no avail.
"Freezenberg is to have a young prince in the new year!"
Cedric would have said the world stopped at those words, that everything froze in that instant, but later he would only wish it had.
"I find I should congratulate you as well, master sorcerer."
From his pocket the prince produced an already opened letter on letterhead Cedric knew well. It was from Queen Miranda and had Sofia's name written plainly on the front, though that obviously hadn't deterred him in the slightest.
"Sofia did you know?" Carl turned to his wife now, a look that seemed less curious than somehow… cruel.
"Know what?"
He waved the opened letter in her face.
"Well isn't this lovely, it seems I'm the bringer of good news today! Your friend here," he used the paper to gesture to Cedric, "is to be married."