“Aren’t you going to say, I told you so?” Hadrian whispered. “What would be the point in that?” “Oh, so you’re saying that you’re going to hang on to this and throw it at me at some future, more personally beneficial moment?” “I don’t see the point in wasting it now, do you?”
Royce Melborn, short, slight, dark-haired, black cloaked, and hooded. Hadrian Blackwater, six-foot-something, sandy blonde, blue eyed, jovial, three swords strapped to his back. These two compose the titular duo “Riyria” (elvish for two) of the three-book Riyria Revelations and its in-progress prequel series, the Riyria Chronicles (four novels to date).
There’s plenty of reason to like the pair- I understand there’s nothing groundbreaking about putting two seemingly opposite characters side-by-side and watching them work. Monochromatic Wednesday Addams and her rainbow of a roommate Enid Sinclair in the recent series Wednesday. Dwayne Johnson and Kevin Hart. Reylo for all you shippers out there. Opposites forced together and able to overcome their differences, relying on one other’s contrasting talents and sometimes falling in love in the process. It’s mildly overdone, I get it, but it works! But this admittedly effective trope isn’t why I like my adventures with Royce and Hadrian.
Instead it’s their perfect encapsulation of what it means to be partners. I’m tempted to argue there aren’t many other duos that fit my criteria but I’m not well-versed enough in what’s out there to make the assessment and I refuse to fall prey to the idea of selection bias. But I will argue, in my story consumption experience, it is nothing if not rare. There are plenty of hero-sidekick relationships. And that’s not to say the sidekick never saves the day. Harry would be dead several times over without Ron. Rand’s friends fight essential battles in The Wheel of Time. Luke needs Han, Kirk needs Spock, Shallan needs Shallan who needs Shallan who needs Shallan (we’ve got jokes). But in these cases we have one partner who’s the Chosen One, the Dragon, the Captain. Their partners are essential to the story but it never feels quite like an integrated unit.
Enter Royce and Hadrian. The two play off one another seamlessly; the trust is implicit, the respect is mutual, the banter immaculate. There’s no dynamic of one yielding to the other, nor any inclination to try and compete. Instead they each take up exactly one half of the partnership while maintaining their own lives, goals, loves, and aspirations. A large part of what made this dynamic so effective is the author, Michael J. Sullivan, having the courtesy to introduce us to the characters after they’d been together the better part of a decade. The prequels gave us their clashing introduction but at that point we were so comfortable with the two that we had patience for the growing pains.
Of course, this is still an epic fantasy series. There are wider political pieces in play and the exploits of Riyria tends to tilt the balance of power. Ancestral secrets and destiny hover around the edges, but nothing ever quite seems to supersede the characters themselves which makes for a remarkably intimate and enjoyable story. I’ve previously written about the Locked Tomb series (beginning with Gideon the Ninth) and how it was my favorite discovery of last year. Tamsyn Muir’s dialogue is wonderful but the more I consider how much I enjoy Royce and Hadrian, the more I realize Muir’s relationships between the necromancers and cavaliers are the closest I’ve seen to that essence of Riyria. And I’d love to find more of that in my reads this coming year.
This was a short one for me, but I think quick bursts will be my best bet to stay on top of somewhat regular writing with a now almost-one-year-old quite literally underfoot as I wrap this. Let me know what you think in the comments, and if you have any other duos you’ve loved in your stories!
Twenty-five Hundred Stories 