A/N: This is a post-TDP AU with a slightly older Soren. I do not own The Dragon Prince, but the OC is mine.

Soren is a smart boy. He knows that dozens of women fall at his feet, he's the most desirable Crown Guard in all of Katolis. Probably the whole world. Things are about to change, but he doesn't know that. He continues his normal routine, working out, eating tarts, riding horses. Things are good and normal. If anything should change, it should be an exciting battle.

It is not.

It changes when he smells the jelly tarts being whisked away on a tray. That's a given, but the person who's carrying the tray is someone he doesn't know. Normally, he doesn't care. Servants and cooks and whatnot don't amuse him. Today, however, the swish of heavy skirts brush against his ankle as the newcomer passes, the blissful scent of freshly-baked goods following them. He sees the two long, auburn braids before she disappears around a corner.

"Uh, Soren?" The step-prince, Callum waves a hand in front of his face.

He snaps out of his trance, focusing on his confused student. "Huh?"

"You looked distracted."

What are they talking about again? Oh, yes, Soren remembers his constructive response to Callum's fighting stance. It is terrible. "I guess I was distracted. It was the… jelly tarts. Yeah, the jelly tarts."

Callum raises an eyebrow but doesn't press him further. "Whatever you say, Soren." He abruptly lunges forward after a beat of nothingness, but Soren slaps away the wooden sword in his hand in one movement. Another win for strong-guy Soren.

"You can't take me by surprise!" He says, a little too loudly. "I am a Crown Guard. Nothing fazes me."

"You got distracted by a tray of jelly tarts," Callum mutters, scuffing at the ground with his boot. There is nothing there to scuff.

Is Soren distracted by a tray of jelly tarts? For some reason, all he can think of is the two braids and the brown peasant skirts. The tray-bearer is small, but she walks with determination, he remembers. He will never see her again as he is too important to interact with the servants.

He sees her the next day, whirling around a corner too early in the morning. She can't cover her mouth as she yawns because of the tray of freshly-baked goods occupying her hands. The early morning sun darkens her freckles. She struggles to open a door with her elbow; the pastries nearly slide off the baking sheet onto the damp garden grass before she catches the pan with her knee.

Soren thinks of helping her, he straightens from his squat – cutting off the usual amount of time from his exercise. He doesn't get far before she manages to do it herself, closing the door behind her with her flexed foot. He continues his squat.

She returns moments later, tray discarded, but arms full of dirty dishes. A surge of electricity courses through him as they make eye contact briefly. She bows her head, breaking the connection, whisking past him to the kitchen. He doesn't see her again.

Soren resumes his exercising, occasionally eyeing the doorway where kitchen-girl disappeared. She is cute, he thinks, ignoring the trembling from fatigue in his thighs. He doesn't let the idea of her consume him. Besides, she will surely be swooning over him and falling at his armored feet anytime now.

Later that day, Soren pokes his head in the kitchen, waving to a sweaty Barius. The sun is setting, but the kitchen is still hot with fires from the oven. After such an intense day of exercising and patrolling the castle walls, he is in desperate need of a snack. A jelly tart, more specifically.

"These are good," he tells Barius after shoving one past his lips. "Like, really good." What's different about them?

The head chef smiles, wiping his floury hands on a dishtowel. "My apprentice was trying something new. No harm in experimenting a little."

"You mean you didn't make these? You?" A crumb falls from his mouth onto the stone floor. Barius's smile tilts downwards the slightest amount. "Since when did you have an apprentice?"

He ponders. "Since around the middle of summer? She's been a great help. Very talented."

Soren can't help but think of the girl with the auburn braids. Maybe she's his apprentice. "What's her name?"

Barius raises an eyebrow, but before Soren can explain himself, he answers: "Tegan."

Upon hearing her name, said apprentice pops her head through the archway. "You called?"

Barius laughs. "Oh no, Soren just wanted to know who you were."

Soren smiles somewhat awkwardly, cheeks flushing at being betrayed by the head cook. Tegan glares at him. "I just made those. They weren't for you," she says, referring to the third jelly tart in his hand.

He puts it back on the pan.

"You already touched it, you might as well eat it!"

He picks it up again, biting back a smile as he munches on a corner. She's kind of fun to rile up. And nice to look at. He tries not to think about that too much. Soren remains in the kitchen, peeling off flakes of his tart as he watches the apprentice – Tegan – scurry around, washing the dishes and kneading dough. She occasionally glances at him as if to say "you're still here?" and he makes a point to mouth "thank you" as he selects another tart.

"Where are you from then?" He asks, ignoring the throb in his belly. He's eaten too much.

She doesn't respond right away. "The town," she says eventually.

"How long have you been working here?"

"Barius told you already." A pan clatters angrily in the sink.

"Do you have any siblings?"

"Do you need to know everything about my personal life?"

He shrugs, but wonders why she's being a little rude. Why isn't she falling head over heels for him? Most women do. It's fair though, he doesn't need to know everything about her though he desperately wants to. She's becoming more and more interesting by the second.

Soren isn't a fan of excessive amounts of heat, but he does like the way his body looks. Over an hour ago he shed his tunic which was sticking to his sweaty shoulders, giving a few of the servants a view. The twenty-one-year-old had started sculpting his body since he was eleven, but the prominence of his muscles is enhanced in the hot afternoon sun.

Out of the corner of his eye, Soren sees Tegan exit the kitchen with a skin of water. Only then does he realize how parched he actually is. She looks over both her shoulders before shuffling to the middle of the courtyard, where he's going over drills by himself. You know, for fun.

"Barius told me I had to bring you water." She unceremoniously shoves the sleeve in his hands, keeping her eyes focused on the ground. He thinks they flicker upwards for a brief second, but he's not too sure. She keeps talking as he drinks gratefully. "I give water to everyone, by the way, you're not special."

It stings, but he can see her gaze is transfixed on his neck. Maybe she's thirsty too? "Do you want some?" He chokes out, wiping a bead of water from his lip.

Her face turns red, probably from the sun. "No."

He drains the skin, handing it empty to her. "Thank you, I really needed that." She takes that as her cue to leave, and she scurries back to the kitchen before he can say anything else.

Later that night, a cloaked figure emerges from the kitchen, a basket on their arm. Soren squints in the dusk. It's Tegan.

"Tegan!" He cries happily, skipping over to her. "Where are you going?"

She eyes him up and down. "I'm glad you're wearing a shirt now." She does not sound super glad. "I'm going to town to buy ingredients for tomorrow."

"Can I come with?" This sounds like a perfect mini-adventure.

She makes a point of sighing so he knows it's inconveniencing her. He honestly doesn't care. "Just don't get in my way."

They walk to the town center together, and Soren takes this time to ask her questions which she doesn't answer. He's also studying her, taking in the way she walks, how her long braids swing with each step, how her mouth is set in a straight line like she's determined to not relax. He gets sad, wishing she would feel comfortable around him.

Soren steps behind her, distancing himself as she interacts with vendors who are just about ready to close their shops. She is polite, calling everyone by their first names.

It's then that he realizes he's never seen her smile until now. She is absolutely radiant, a dimple forming in her left cheek. Her eyes light up as she selects foods, he couldn't even tell someone which ones she's choosing because he is so entranced by her bright grin.

"You have a very beautiful smile," he tells her without thinking. He almost slaps himself for saying something so bold. The shopkeeper behind the crates of goods raises their eyebrows and quickly glances to Tegan to watch for her reaction.

She says nothing, plastering a frown on her face as she pays for the ingredients and thanks the vendor. They move along and Tegan is not smiling anymore. It's dark now, and her cheeks look a little pink, but he doesn't know if it's from his compliment or from the evening wind. He knows what he wishes it was from.

Soren is determined to break the silence that swells over them. "Do you always shop in the evenings?" It's a dumb question, but he needs to say something.

"No. I shop in the mornings for certain events and if I get up early enough. Sometimes I run to town if we need something fast."

They're at the castle gate already, and Soren walks her to the dark kitchen.

Tegan doesn't go inside right away, but Soren is content in her company. "Thanks for not getting in my way." Her voice is quiet, and she won't look at him. She bustles inside, skirts swishing.

He grins, hearing the strike of flint stones and the dull glow of a candle. He likes being around her.

Tegan slaps his hand as he reaches for the pat of butter. "I don't know why you eat butter, that's disgusting." She walks away carrying a tray of freshly-baked goods, but still whips around every two steps to keep her eyes on him.

"Butter is so good. Rich and creamy…" Soren trails off and leans back, acting as if his urge to munch on a stick of butter is finished. It's not. When she returns to her work, he swipes his finger into the warm butter again. "Why do you give Ezran pastries, but slap my hand whenever I want one?"

"Ezran is a prince. If he asks for anything I should give it to him." Tegan hisses at a pan of cookies in the oven as she removes it with a thin towel.

Soren frowns. Is she burning herself? "You wouldn't even give a Crown Guard a pastry? My position is pretty important too. If you were a princess I'd give you pastries whether you asked or not. Even if you weren't a princess." He thinks. She should be a princess. Not in a bratty way, but in a she-deserves-everything sort of way. When did he start thinking like this? She deserves a better life. "Do you like your job?"

Tegan doesn't smile – she never smiles at him – but her eyes sure do sparkle. Man, she has beautiful eyes. "Yes. I started baking when I was young to help my mother as she looked after my brothers and I never really stopped. It's fun seeing what dishes I can make with whatever's in front of me." There it is – a hint of a smile.

That's all he wants. Her happiness, her smiles, her passion for her job. He feels warm inside his chest and it is definitely not from the multiple fires in the kitchen. Is he staring? He's totally staring.

"I said too much." Tegan looks embarrassed with herself. "Sorry for boring you."

Absentmindedly, he reaches for a snack, the butter, but Tegan is still right there, and she glares at him, ready to strike. Just as she's about to probably-very-lightly slap him, his reflexes take over, grabbing onto her wrist.

Has he ever held her before? Her wrist is so thin, he wonders if she's getting enough to eat. He stares at her for a moment, entranced by her nearness and the feeling of her warm skin against his fingertips. "You weren't boring me at all," he says truthfully.

She's really close. His grip softens, and he suddenly has the very strong urge to hold her hand, but Tegan takes that opportunity to free herself. She looks angry and red, but doesn't confront him on it. She returns to her work without a word.

Later that night he escorts her to her quarters. Soren has never been in the servant's quarters before, but he's disappointed with the set up. Tegan deserves a nicer room like the one he has, with the wide windows on a high floor, a big bed and desk (that he doesn't use), and his own personal washing space. These rooms are all small, and most of the servants share. Tegan doesn't just because of her position, but if she was any lower she'd have to. It's dark and cold in the hallway.

She stops in front of her door. "You didn't have to walk me back."

"I wanted to. Besides," he puffs out his chest, "it's my job to protect people."

"Thanks." She doesn't look very grateful. Why is she fiddling with her hands? "Look, I'm not going to be here for the next few days so don't… miss me or anything."

His shoulders droop. Has she been fired? Whatever for? She's the best baker in the world! "Where are you going?"

"Home. But I'll be back." Soren likes that she's reassuring him. It makes him feel good. Tegan bounces on the balls of her feet before slipping inside her room. "Goodnight."

Soren waves a second too late because she closes the door. "…goodnight."

He's bored. Painfully bored. Tegan isn't here to bother and stealing treats from Barius just isn't as fun. He's getting antsy. "Why'd Tegan go home?" He asks the head chef for the sixth time that afternoon.

Barius sighs a great sigh. "I already told you: every member of staff is allowed a few days break and Tegan needed it. She was getting homesick."

Soren regrets asking. It's good that she's home so she can feel better, but he still misses her even though she told him not to. He doesn't know how much longer he can wait for Tegan. She said 'a few days' and it has already been two whole days. He has an idea. A brilliant idea. "Where does she live?" Soren shoots up from his moping, startling Barius.

The cook readjusts his rolling pin. "I don't know, it's not really my place to know where she lives."

Soren already has a starting point. "Thanks!" He sprints out of the kitchen, bursting through the palace gates into the town.

He traces his steps to when he tailed Tegan as she shopped. He starts with the first vendor, a plump woman who sells dry ingredients. "Do you know Tegan?" He asks her, out of breath from running.

The seller nods, mouth agape.

"Where does she live?"

She lists a street name somewhat hesitantly, tripping over her words.

Soren's confused as to why he's getting treated this way. Why are people scared of him? He looks down. Oh. That's why. A Crown Guard in full armor is running around, determined to find a young woman. It does look awfully suspicious. They probably think that Tegan has done something wrong.

He doesn't have time to worry about how other people perceive him. He is a man on one mission.

Soren doesn't know the streets very well, but after running around enough and very reluctantly asking a villager for help, he stumbles in front of a small house. It's made of bricks and clay. It's a modest house, but Soren feels an automatic sense of home.

Now that he's here, he realizes that he's nervous. His heart pounds in his chest. Sure, he gets nervous around seeing Tegan anyways, but this is her family. He hasn't met them, doesn't know their customs, rituals, values, lifestyle…

Soren takes a deep breath. He's a Crown Guard. Be brave, Soren, he tells himself. Before he can knock, the door opens by itself. It's Tegan.

"Soren?" She bounces a baby on her hip. Not a baby, a toddler. "What are you doing here?" She looks more confused than mad.

"I –"

"Tegan?" A voice calls from inside the house. "Who's at the door?" A large-ish woman peers over Tegan's shoulder. Soren assumes she's her mother. "Oh! You must be that handsome Crown Guard boy Tegan was telling us all about." She chitters. "Come inside, dear." She snatches his arm and pulls him in with surprising strength.

Tegan looks like she's about to protest, but the woman sits Soren down at the wooden table by the kitchen. "I'm Mira," she says, "Tegan's mother."

The house is hot with cooking and young children running around. It is loud and a little chaotic, but Soren feels comfortable. He can spot three young boys. They all kind of look like Tegan with their wild auburn hair, smattering of freckles on their faces and shoulders, joyful brown eyes.

"Are these your sons?" He asks Mira.

With expert, motherly skill, she scoops up the two running and screaming boys that aren't the on Tegan's hip. "Yes, this is Francis, Ignatius, and Harper is who Tegan's holding."

He can't tell them apart. "They're very cute," he tells Mira, meaning it. They're cute like their sister.

Mira beams. "Tegan dear, bring our guest something to eat."

"Supper's almost finished, Mama." She's not looking at him and it hurts a little, but he's entranced at how she can so efficiently balance a toddler and cook at the same time. It makes him like her a little bit more.

Mira joins Soren at the table and Tegan looks over her shoulder to roll her eyes at her mother's antics. "You should eat supper with us. Tegan and I would truly value your company. She's been talking about you almost nonstop since she got home."

"Mama!" Tegan's cheeks are flushed from the heat of the kitchen, most likely. Soren smiles at her and she turns away. He's still smiling. He can't stop smiling. His cheeks are hurting.

"I'd like to join you, if you'll have me."

Mira laughs a big, motherly laugh. Soren likes her. "Oh, who wouldn't have you?"

Tegan puts her face in her hand.

One of the triplets crawls on top of Soren's knee. He's initially shocked, but instantly holds the boy with his hands and bounces him like he's riding on a horse. The boy – Ignatius, he thinks, giggles. Tegan holds a pot full of soup in one hand and Harper in the other. When she sees Ignatius, her expression softens. Soren can't help but think of a different time – the future. This mental image of Tegan and him hurts his heart in a way he can't explain. She clanks the bowl of soup on the table and his dream is disturbed. He's momentarily upset, but the waft of fat potatoes and rich beef soaking in a multitude of spices hypnotizes him. It smells heavenly.

"Jem should be home any minute now." Just as Mira speaks, the front door opens, and the one of the biggest, tallest men Soren has ever seen in his life bends his head to walk through the door. Jem pecks Mira on the mouth. They look happy.

Soren's heart hurts again, but for a different reason. Oh, to have parents like them.

"Who's this guest we have?" Jem asks. Despite his stature, his voice is gentle and Soren warms to him.

Mira clutches onto her husband's arm, patting his round bicep. "This is Crown Guard Soren, who our daughter has been mentioning quite a few times." She waggles her eyebrows, and Soren feels heat rise to his cheeks. Tegan's face matches his.

"Give it a rest, Mama." Tegan hugs her father. Ignatius slides off Soren's lap to join his siblings in attaching themselves like burrs to Jem's legs.

After exchanging a few kisses to his family members, Jem approaches Soren, who immediately stands. He straightens, looking Jem into his eyes and is almost taken aback by how much kindness is in them. He's not used to looking at a father and finding kindness. He clasps Soren's arm. "Nice to meet you, son."

Soren really likes this family.

They eat supper together, enjoying Tegan's soup and fresh bread immensely. During the meal, Soren gets to hear his fair share of embarrassing stories about Tegan and her siblings which makes her rub her temple. Even though it's a little mortifying, Soren can clearly see that she enjoys being home. He understands why she would.

The sun sets. The triplets are winding down and Tegan puts them to bed as Mira and Jem talk to Soren. They ask him about his work, hobbies, dreams, and, unfortunately, his family. He spares them from the details. Tegan eventually joins her parents at the table.

"Tegan dear," Mira says, all affection, "why don't you escort our guest to the door?" Soren likes Mira a lot.

Tegan does just that, closing the door behind them as they step outside. "You never answered my question." She wrings her hands together. "Why did you come here?" Soren fears she's angry at him, but when she meets his gaze, she's curious and almost hopeful.

"I was going to say I missed you. Even though you told me not to." He scuffs his boot against the stones on the path. "Thank you for the meal. And for allowing me to spend time with your family. I truly enjoyed it."

"I…" she trails off, as if she has something important to say. Soren expectantly leans forward the slightest amount. "Never mind. Thank you for coming to visit. We had a good time in your company. Have a good night, Soren."

She slips inside, and Soren walks in the direction of the castle.

What he doesn't know is that on the other side of the door, Tegan smiles.

A/N: This will ideally be a shorter fic, but I have a few oneshots I'm ready to post once this is finished. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and meeting Tegan!