I own nothing.
"I have not sung in a very long time."
-0-0-0-
Togami was a young man with a crystal he kept hidden under his shirt (perhaps the gift was not so stigmatized in Shanjia as it was in other domains, but it was still viewed warily, and knowledge was power as much as much as the power held by lords and ladies and councilors) and dreams of more than an appointment as a court musician. He was also commonly held to be a young man with a voice that could rival the angels of heaven, a singer and musician without equal. It was those talents that had brought him what prosperity he possessed.
And the eye of the Queen.
Queen Junko of Shanjia ascended the throne as a young woman upon the death of her father. For the rest of his life, Togami would vividly recall the first look he got at the reclusive royal court, and their Queen. Court musicians were as common as dust motes, and there were few who paid him any attention when he presented himself to the Queen, aside from the official who had recommended him—doubtless concerned of the consequences, should the one he had recommended fail to impress.
Togami's eyes were fixed on the Queen. There she sat in her throne upon the dais, tall and ramrod straight, stern-faced with piercing dark eyes. Her attire was rather old-fashioned, from the knot her black hair was tied in to her long, ornate robes. Ropes of pearls hung around her neck, silver at her wrists—the only jewelry a noblewoman could wear while in mourning. She looked striking. Her robes were of deepest black, and he thought that she looked striking in such a color. He thought that she looked like one who had stepped out of the tales of Jiavar's elder days, the old, legendary domain in its glory.
However, such a thing posed no great distraction.
"We believe you were recommended to us as a music-maker." Junko's voice sounded in the chamber, and all other voices, whispering and the clattering of shoes against the floor and the rustling of skirts and cloaks, fell to silence. When the Queen spoke, everyone around her became as statues, their attention raptly focused upon her, and the subject of her own attention. As it should be.
Togami smiled and bowed. "That I am, Majesty.' He curled one hand around the stem of his lute.
"Would you care to give us a demonstration, then?"
He settled on the ground in front of the dais. Togami had already tuned his lute beforehand, the better not to appear unprepared before the Queen. He would have but one chance; no accident of carelessness or fate could ruin it.
A simple song it would be. Anything complex could be interpreted as showing off. Good first impressions were important, especially with the chance of such an appointment as this.
As he strummed his fingers across the lute, as he lifted his voice in song, the effect on the court became immediately apparent. The courtiers and servants stared at Togami, utterly transfixed; those who had focused their eyes more intently upon the Queen shifted their gazes to him, mesmerized. All the air in the throne room became thin and taut, as though the very stones were holding their breath.
That was nothing less than what Togami had expected. It was what he had grown accustomed to, since the day when, as a child, he had first sung for an audience, parents and aunt and cousins over the evening fire. Since learning from the masters, his skill had only grown greater, his ability to steal the breath of his audience burgeoning with every year.
It was not the courtiers and the servants whose attention Togami was focused upon, however. As she listened, the Queen's proud, stern face softened, the tension melting out of her shoulders like ice beneath the sun. When Togami finished his song and stood, she stared at him, shock momentarily flickering over her face. Then, she smiled warmly, nodding.
"We believe that there is a place here for a man of your talents."
Despite himself, Togami smiled broadly, perhaps out of some unexpected relief, or perhaps because she had smiled at him. "Thank you, Majesty."
-0-0-0-
Those next few months passed slowly by. His skills self-evident, Togami had no trouble holding on to employment at the court, no trouble staying in favor, but it seemed that he would get no further for now. He sang, he played whatever instrument was before him and whatever song was asked of him. Beyond that, Togami kept his eyes and ears open, watching the machinations of the court.
It seemed that half of the nobles were at the other half's throats. Shanjia was not like Nova, a domain with a system of nobility whose lineages were so ancient that boundaries were firmly established and the polite social norms so firmly entrenched that only the truly ignorant or uncaring would violate them. Two hundred years ago, when the civil war ended, the first King had ennobled his chief supporters, and since then, there were many commoners who had been ennobled for "services rendered." Those whose ancestors had not been ennobled with the first wave were forever considered parvenu and looked down upon, despite the fact that other domains would have considered Shanjia's old guard parvenu themselves and beneath notice.
Queen Junko had cast off her mourning clothes and was now pursuing an expansionist policy with a vengeance. The new Queen wished to expand their borders. She wished to bolster the power and resources of Shanjia, and to draw the rest of Jiavar under her control.
There were those who supported the Queen's desires. Landless second and third children of the nation's nobles, hungry for lands of their own, supported Queen Junko in her goals. Those noble houses who desired access to the coast and the wealthy ports, as well as those who whole-heartedly idealistically believed in Shanjia's supremacy, were more than happy to support Queen Junko in her expansionist goals.
Not everyone was so enthusiastic, however.
Togami had long ago figured out how to hear through walls—as a child, his father had called him a "consummate little eavesdropper" and warned him that his curiosity would be his death, but it was a useful skill to have, especially in matters like this. His Lumen crystal only helped with this endeavor.
Lately, he was putting his listening skills to use outside the Queen's council chamber. It seemed that a little over half of Junko's ministers and advisors were wary of expansion; they feared retaliation from the other nations of Jiavar, and even from the eastern continent if they chose to be offended by Shanjia's attacks on their trading partners. However, the Queen was not moved.
As the meeting was being concluded, Togami took care to absent himself from the corridor before anyone could emerge. It would not do for him to be found there. Instead, he made his way to the library, and began to read whatever he could find on history and military strategy.
-0-0-0-
"That song you sung over supper, was there any reason for it?"
The Queen's voice rang out clearly in the corridor, brooking no evasion. Togami had grown used to hearing her use that tone, though rarely was it directed towards him—rarely were any of the court musicians spoken to by the Queen to unless asked to perform.
Once, hundreds of years ago, before the time of the city-states that would become Shanjia, before Nova had ever set foot on Jiavar, there had been another nation that held sway. It had been ruled over by Kings and Queens both strong and wise, whose power and influence spread over the entire continent. They had dwindled, and waned, and eventually vanished altogether, leaving behind only the massive tombs and monuments that they had built. Historians had deciphered the language written on these buildings, and derived their knowledge of this nation's glory from them.
Of course, songs had been written and sung in memory of this lost people. It had been a bit of a risk to take, singing such a song, here and now, but one that Togami hoped would pay off.
Her dark eyes gleamed with curiosity. It seemed the risk had paid off after all.
"It seemed appropriate, Majesty," Togami responded with a smile, watching her face carefully.
She smiled slightly, even looked amused, and he thought that his heart may have skipped a beat. "You've been watching which way the wind's blowing, have you, Master Togami?"
He shook his head. "Nothing so crass as that, Majesty. It merely seemed fitting, considering your recent victory in the south."
Junko smiled again, a kinder smile. "Well, we hope that you will have reason to think it fitting again."
-0-0-0-
Togami was at first surprised when the Queen began seeking him out, just happening to come upon him in quiet hallways or deserted gardens. It was true enough that he had been trying to get her attention, but he'd not been expecting her personal attention. He'd been expecting even less, despite her personal traits and despite the fact that she was, honestly, a very attractive woman, that he would find her company enjoyable.
Formality gave way to familiarity, sooner than Togami would have thought likely, but still smoothly. (It would not occur to him, not until years later, but there was the strain of loneliness and isolation in her words. He did not see it then; he was not looking for it. But it was there. The lonesomeness of a Queen whose only living kin, the only people with whom she stood on an equal footing, lived far away and were more a potential threat than they were a base of allies.) More and more open they both were, by inches, then feet, then miles.
They fed each other's passions, each other's dreams, music and power and past glory that could be found again with the proper ambition and action. As Togami tuned his lute and tested the tautness of the strings, humming absently to himself, Junko paced about, anger radiating off of her in waves as she recounted setbacks on the front or arguments held in council with her ministers—it was hardly even necessary for him to listen in on council sessions anymore.
"Majesty…"
Junko paused in her pacing, turning about to stare quizzically at him. Togami got back up on his feet and said, "You said that the port of Miro was holding out under siege on account of the Duke's insistence, did you not?"
She narrowed her eyes, nodding. "Yes. Certain advisors of the Duke have made it known that if he was to perish, they would be willing to submit to Shanjia's rule." Junko snarled. "Unfortunately, the Duke has proved, shall we say, hardy, in spite of his advanced age."
Togami smirked. So she had already been attempting to find a solution that would not involve a prolonged siege; he expected nothing less. However, there were ways to kill a man that didn't involve weapons or poison or throwing them down from great heights. "Majesty, I may have a solution to your problem. Tell me—" he drew his bright, faintly glimmering Lumen crystal out from under his shirt, watching as it threw light across her fair face "—do you know what this is?"
With that, Junko's expression changed, from one of fury to hope unbidden, as she stared intently up into his face. "Can you do this?"
Truth be told, Togami had never actually killed anyone before. There had never been a need, and never before had he felt the need to take such a risk. But he knew how to kill someone with magic, knew how easy it was not to leave any traces behind, and between that knowledge and the hopeful look on her face, he felt confident. "Yes, Majesty."
Junko smiled hugely, her dark eyes alight. "Blessed man," she murmured, before nodding firmly. "Do it, then. Go to Miro. You will be shown a way into the city."
He may as well have been proposing marriage. She did, weeks later when Miro submitted to Shanjian rule and Togami returned to the capital.
-0-0-0-
Marriage turned out to be about what Togami expected it to be, when Junko first broached the subject. It happened from time to time that nobles would marry commoners, usually wealthy merchants or prestigious military officials or members of their families. Such marriages were more common and more accepted in Shanjia than they were in nations with nobility that had been established for hundreds upon hundreds of years, but for one of the royal line, and the ruling Queen, no less, to marry into the peasantry, well, that was another matter. That was not something that could be gladly accepted by anyone.
It made Junko far angrier than it did Togami. He knew what needed to be done. This was not a popularity contest. He cast aside song and instrument and bolstered his position. He cultivated the trust and support of those who were willing, and for those who weren't… Junko always got a rather odd look on her face when she was informed that someone else in her court had disappeared, but she said nothing about it.
Shanjia continued to spread its influence out around Jiavar, around the coastlines and the rivers. Eventually, it would begin to look eastwards across the sea, but for now, it would be prudent to shore up their power on the continent first.
-0-0-0-
Maybe there was something, in the midst of it all, that Togami had not planned for.
Both of his daughters took after Junko rather than himself, dark-haired and dark-eyed—probably a good thing; they were going to stand out already, and his colorings would not have helped matters. As infants, they were small and so helpless and delicate that even holding them felt to Togami as though he was running the risk of breaking them in his hands.
Togami had little experience with newborns, or with the smallest of small children. He had no siblings, no cousins. This was all very new to him, parenting, fatherhood. Junko, who had a younger brother and nieces and nephews, thought his behavior (especially after the birth of their second child) odd.
"They're children, Togami. Our children, yes, but still children. They are not all that different from other children."
He wasn't so sure of that. It was obvious upon first sight of them both, Wakana first and then Akemi, that they were potential Lumens, in possession of all of the nascent power that their father held. None of the Kings and Queens of Shanjia had been Lumens, or if any of them had been, they had been very good at hiding it. Wakana, or Akemi, if by some ill chance of fate Togami's oldest daughter did not outlive her parents, would be the first. That by itself was enough to set them apart.
More than that… More than that, they were both dear to him. Their bright laughter, the way they stumbled over new words, their gap-toothed smiles and the sight of them tumbling through the grass as they played, these memories drifted to the front of his mind at the strangest times. The court's lack of acceptance of these two girls, the Queen's "baseborn" daughters, frustrated Togami far more than any criticisms leveled against him could. Being near them brought him joy.
But there was still much to be done.
-0-0-0-
All of Jiavar was now under Shanjian control. The other domains on the continent had either become subjects of the empire or its allies, depending on their size and whether or not they were willing to risk war. Now, it was time to turn their attention to the east.
First, something had to be done about the Queen of Nova.
From what Togami understood, for the past two hundred years only the royal line of Nova and the duchy of Ursul had maintained active Lumens. If any of the other noble lines still had active Lumens, they concealed it very well. However, even with potentially only two active Lumens in the entire domain, Queen Fidelia would still pose a problem when Shanjia began to spread its influence to the east, if that problem was left unresolved.
She was a fully-trained Lumen with over ten years of experience in both ruling and magic. The length of Fidelia's experience in magic was nothing on Togami's, but depending on how powerful she was, she could still be a serious threat. There were those Lumens, who, no matter how much training and experience they had, would never be able to manage anything more than parlor tricks, but there were those who could summon storms and throw down castles within a month of beginning training. Fidelia had given no public demonstrations of her Lumen skills. Who knew what she was capable of?
Togami looked at a map of the eastern continent and narrowed his eyes. Tombula had undergone a peasant revolution over ten years ago; it shared a border with the north of Nova. They had never established diplomatic ties with Nova, nor with anyone else, for that matter. They were suspicious and contemptuous of aristocracy and nations governed by aristocracy.
Perhaps, if he put a few words in the right ears, Tombula could be persuaded to commit to acts that would require the intervention of Nova's Queen. Togami knew the costs of magic. He knew what it cost the human body, when a Lumen performed acts of magic, again and again and again over a sustained period of time. Especially such powerful acts of magic as that which would be needed to repel a hostile army.
Over the course of a year and a half, Tombula twice massed its forces along the Novan border, and twice, they were struck by weeks of freak storms so fierce that they were forced to fall back to a safe distance. At the same time, Queen Fidelia's health swiftly declined. She grew weak and ill, but she did not die.
It seemed that further measures would be needed.
There were those in Nova who would not be unhappy to see the Queen gone. There was one, in fact, who was willing to help Togami make that happen.
Just as Queen Fidelia began to return to good health, she fell ill again. After a few weeks of increasing illness, she passed away in her sleep, under the care of the palace priestesses and healers. Her only daughter and heir was a fourteen-year-old girl, utterly unprepared for ruling, and untrained in magic.
-0-0-0-
"Daddy?"
The Novan coastline was not particularly well-fortified. There were two duchies on the coastline by which they would be landing, Caloris and Mazomba, but they were both lowlands; neither possessed any physical feature such as mountains that would pose a difficulty for an invading army. The Shanjian forces would have to steer clear of the Old Forest in Caloris, but that was all.
A small hand tugging on his sleeve, more than the sound of Wakana's voice, drew Togami out of his examination of the Novan map. Wakana was standing next to his chair, staring up at him with an imploring look on her face. Togami set aside the map for now, smiling down at her. "It's late, sweetheart. Shouldn't you be in bed?"
Wakana tilted her head to one side, smiling hopefully. She shuffled her feet, fiddling with the sleeve hem of her nightgown. "Erm, me and Akemi were hoping you'd sing us a lullaby? Mummy says you sing very nicely."
Togami shook his head. "No, Wakana, I can't. I have a great deal of work to do." And he had not sung in a very long time. So long that he had forgotten all the words to all the songs he had ever known, or so it felt to him. "And you need your sleep."
"Quite right." A new voice sounded from the doorway. Togami and Wakana turned about to see Junko standing there, looking straight at her daughter. "Wakana, you should be in bed."
Wakana dipped her head ruefully. "Yes, Mother."
After she was gone, Junko swept into the room and leveled her gaze upon the map lying out on the table. She frowned. "I thought the plan for the invasion was already decided."
Togami waved his hand dismissively. "It is, it is. I was just looking over the maps one more time before leaving."
Junko took a seat at his side, brow furrowing. "You'll be at sea for weeks," she pointed out. "There will be plenty of time to review the plans then. You should rest."
"I've been thinking about the Queen of Nova."
"Which one?"
"The new one, Elodie."
Junko narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips for a few moments before saying, "It was agreed upon that if Shanjia is to spread its influence east, a Lumen ruler of Nova, the largest nation in the east, is a threat that must be neutralized, one way or another. But…" She gazed upon the map, drawing a deep breath. A troubled (or perhaps simply weary) expression crossed her face. "…But Nova would make nearly as lucrative an ally and trading partner as it would a dominion of the empire."
Togami stared at her. He could not remember the last time Junko had ever expressed caution when victory seemed like such an easily attainable thing; he wasn't sure she had ever expressed caution in such a situation. "What do you mean?"
Junko smiled weakly. Togami tried to look away, but she put a hand on his cheek, and he forced himself to make eye contact with her. "What I mean is that there's more than one way to neutralize a threat, and I will be happiest if you come back to me alive."
She left him alone with his thoughts without telling him exactly what she meant by that, or why she was suddenly advocating mercy (or at least offering it up as a suggestion) now. Togami stared at the map, the image of a girl-Queen holding up a shining crystal playing in his mind.
-0-0-0-
On the ship, there was no escaping the roar of the waves and the pounding of the ocean upon the hull. Under the sun or the moon, there was no escaping it.
Togami found that he did not particularly like being at sea. He did not like the way the ships seemed to roll along the top of the waves, the way the deck was never entirely level. He got no more than a few hours of sleep each night, and spent the rest staring out of the window of his cabin, at the moonlight wavering on the waters.
He heard his children laughing, as though from far away. They were not here and could not be, and there was no way for him to hear them, even with the aid of his crystal. He saw their bright smiles, even though there was no way to see such a thing.
"There's more than one way to neutralize a threat."
Ideally, Togami would be able to divest the Novan Queen of her Lumen crystal. Dead or alive, she could pose absolutely no threat to Shanjia, no threat to him, without it. Nova's military was a joke, and there were very few Lumens in Nova to start with. Subjugate to the empire or an ally of it, those were the only two outcomes for Nova.
But which would the girl-Queen choose?
-0-0-0-
The girl could sing. She was no master, but she was possessed of a clear, sweet voice. Not once as she sang did her voice crack or break; not once did she hit a sour note throughout her song. Her light, high-pitched voice was reminiscent of Wakana's, though Wakana, being so much younger than Nova's Queen, could not claim this girl's level of control.
She could talk, too, and put her words to good use. Togami had to fight to keep from grimacing when the young Queen revealed that the song she had sung had been one of her mother's. He was almost tempted to reveal the hand he'd played in Fidelia's death, just to see how she would react, but somehow, he did not think that that would help negotiations at all.
It was surprising, how much a young girl, even a Queen, knew of diplomacy, but far more surprising when she offered peace, plainly and without any hint of guile or deception.
Togami stared at the open, empty hands she held out to him. He thought of Wakana and Akemi, sitting across a negotiation table from an invading army at such a young age, wearing robes of state far too large for either of them, terrified that if they said the wrong thing their home would go up in flames.
Nova would make nearly as lucrative an ally and trading partner as it would a dominion of the empire.
He placed his hands in hers.
-0-0-0-
When he got home, Togami sang to his children. His voice was rusty and, quite frankly, not what it once was. He had not sung in years. On top of that, he barely remembered any of the words of the songs he used to sing.
But there were other songs he could teach them, and other things he could sing.