#there's a cute scene of Carlos teaching Charles billiards.....

[f1-stuff]

Hi 🩵 Can we know more about the Regency AU? 👀 (I love your work 🩷)

Hiii! ❤️ Big fan of you, as well! 😆

S0 my idea for that AU is that the Leclerc family comes to stay with the Sainz's for the social season, hoping that one or more of the boys will find a match with Carlos' sisters. But insteeaaddd...😅 I have a distinct image of Charles, with his eclectic regency fashion sense that sets him apart from his brothers, boldly wooing Carlos, despite period-typical attitudes. And the two of them spending the society balls flirting and joking with each other instead of mingling with the eligible ladies...

Anyway, this snippet is from the very beginning of the fic, and it's actually a carlando (friendship) scene, which I never thought I'd write asfhgfjs. But I felt like it was a cute idea, Lando being a recurring guest of the Sainz's every year. In this scene, Carlos is complaining about the Leclercs' impending arrival...

If Carlos has to listen to one more recounting of the handsome, dignified, witty, admired, magnificent Leclercs, he might be forced to hurl himself into the sea.

“Particular favorites of the Prince of Monaco, and distinct in both societal standing and countenance, the whole lot of them. You’d be hard pressed to determine which of the three is most agreeable to the eye or to the ear,” Carlos performs a rather poor imitation of his aunt’s voice, who had prattled on for hours and hours to his mother these past days.

Lando snickers, idly snapping a twig in his hand into small bits and pieces that he tosses to the side as they walk along the banks of the creek. “They sound insufferable.”

“Doubtless,” Carlos mutters, kicking rocks out of their path. “I’d wager they won’t even know Spanish.”

Not that Lando does either. The comment has the added benefit of being both a criticism of the Leclercs and a method to tease his friend. Carlos knocks their shoulders together.

It’s a perfect spring day, the sun shining and the breeze swirling bits of pollen through the air, carrying the scent of new growth. The perfect day for a walk, which he’d muscled Lando into agreeing to, despite the younger man’s confusing attachment to the indoors. 

They stop for a moment to appreciate the view of the far off mountains, the sea just visible on the horizon, glittering against the sun. Carlos can feel his sour mood lifting already, such is the magic of his family’s estate.

“One wonders why these Leclerc men are still unwed, and why they need someone to sing their praises so exhaustingly prior to their arriving. Unless their real company leaves much to be desired,” he continues, although his heart isn’t in the complaining anymore. He’d much rather find a spot to lay in the grass and feel the sun soak into his skin. So he does just that.

Lando follows suit, curling his legs underneath him as Carlos reclines onto the grass, rolling up his sleeves and shutting his eyes against the sun.

“But why are the Leclercs coming here for the social season? Why not France or Monaco, if they are indeed favorites of the prince? Or England?”

“Not everyone wishes to go to England,” Carlos teases, just to hear Lando’s scoff. Truthfully, he has half a desire to go to London himself. But he mostly says it as Lando always acts affronted when insults are piled atop his country’s name. “Isn’t it obvious?” Lando arches a brow. “Marriage, mi amigo. It’s the reason for everything. Well, most everything.”

“Oh, that.”

“Yes, that,” Carlos chuckles, pinching Lando’s arm.

“Ow.”

“Oh, shut up. Anyway. Just because you are still a slight, wide-eyed fawn-”

“I am nineteen!” Lando exclaims, but joins Carlos in his laughter soon enough. Nineteen or not, his boyish curls, along with the spots still dusting his skin, make him look every bit as young as he is. “If I am a fawn, then you are a buck. Surely, you ought to be wedded soon, before you are old and bitter. Well, older and more bitter.”

“Ha ha,” Carlos says, deadpan. “We should have been forewarned of your wit.”

But Lando isn’t entirely wrong. Carlos had just celebrated his twenty-fourth birthday this past September, and he’s getting to the age where his parents might not be so patient anymore in entertaining his hypercritical standards, eager as they are for him to sire an heir.

It isn’t that he hasn’t become acquainted with plenty of eligible women at various balls and dinner parties during the social season over the years - he has. But no matter how lovely they seem, he always finds himself stalling when it comes to the actual proposal, something stopping him from making that final commitment. Until, eventually, another suitor steps up and whisks her out from under Carlos’ nose. And, every time, it doesn’t escape him that the prevailing emotion is relief.

When it comes to the woman he will marry, the woman he will spend his life with, he wants someone pretty, kind, and smart. Someone charming and witty and clever and interesting. And he isn’t keen to settle for less. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

Sometimes, he even blames himself. I’m too loud for her. I’m not artistic enough for her. I’m too independent for her. Et cetera, et cetera... But, mostly, boiling down to: I’m just too picky.

Still, no matter that he will eventually need to wed, he is set to inherit his father’s lands and estate, so there isn’t much of a rush to send him to the altar. His sisters, however - particularly his eldest sister, Blanca, who is almost as picky as himself. She doesn’t seem overly concerned with the wealth and status of a partner, despite the high ranking men their parents are always parading her in front of. But she does expect an honorable sort of man, and, above all, kind, which Carlos cannot fault her for. She deserves the very best this world can offer her, and he fears no man will be enough in his eyes to deserve her.

With the youngest of the Sainz siblings, Ana, her lack of husband as of yet is more a case of her preferring her independence than ‘pickiness’. She often elects to read a good book or ride her horse or go for a swim, rather than practice dancing or attend a ball. It hadn’t been much cause for concern until she had debuted into society a few seasons ago and had refused any offers she’d received since. 

During their childhood, he would always include Ana (and Blanca, until she had started her schooling) in his games and competitions with his friends, pulling her away from time with their sister and mother. He doesn’t regret the fun adventures it had led to growing up, or their particular bond. But it occurs to him from time-to-time that he could be, in some way, to blame for Ana’s convictions.

If it were up to him, he’d have both his sisters stay with him at the estate forever. But it isn’t how things are done. And he doubts they’d be completely happy here either, longing for something more beyond this country life that Carlos so adores.

“Anyway,” he continues. “I hardly need concern myself with such frivolous matters as marriage.”

“What - you have less frivolous matters that require your attention?” Lando asks.

“No - more. Like bathing in the sun and exchanging gossip with my dear friend.” He winks, and Lando just shakes his head with a smile. “If I had a wife, we’d have no time for our walks, or our little competitions, during your visits each year. And that would be a real shame.”

“Says the man who always wins those games.”

Carlos snickers. “Well, if either of my sisters really do marry one of these Leclerc chaps, I might have to let him win. Once, at least, as a gesture of goodwill.”

“You really think they would? Marry, I mean.”

“If they seem a good match...” He shrugs. It is, after all, the whole intention behind the arranged visit.

His aunt and uncle had met the Leclercs on a recent trip to Monaco, where they had expressed interest in visiting Spain and exploring the social scene there. His aunt and uncle had invited them to their home in Madrid, but when Carlos’ parents had heard about it, they’d insisted the Leclercs come to stay with them for at least a few weeks this summer. Carlos doubts the Leclercs had a country estate in mind for their visit to Spain, but perhaps the humble parties they host out here will charm them.

“Well, I don’t know why you sound so reluctant,” Lando continues. “You make friends with practically every person you meet. And for all you know, maybe these Leclercs will live up to the talk.”

“Maybe...” 

But Carlos has his doubts. How interesting could they really be?

He drops the topic for now, preferring instead to tug at the soft blades of grass beneath his fingertips and muse over what will be served for lunch.

----

WIP ask game