Summary: Official mourning in Coventry may last a year and a day, but no longer. Angst. Twitches Movieverse, 1 shot. Miranda/Aron, Miranda/Thantos. Set one year and one day into the 21-year break in twitches I. This can fit with my other story, Habit, or be read on its own.
Disclaimer: I do not own this. If I did, it would not be a kid's movie. This is not a kid's story. I have not read the books and do not intend to because I like experimenting with the movie characters. The books may well be better than the movies, but since it is the movies' faults and inaccuracies that inspire my subplots… being too correct would destroy my material.
A Year and a Day
The midnight moon illuminates the chamber and the moon and stars emblem painted across the bricks. Miranda kneels on the emblem her hand placed softly on the center of the design. She weeps.
Official mourning in Coventry may last a year and a day but no longer. At dawn, Miranda will be required by law, as the widow of the king, to put away the black clothes she now wears and continue with her life, such that remains. That will entail returning to her birthplace, a place far north of the castle. It involves, by implication if not by law, finding another husband.
Miranda is not ready to forget, but this world pushes her. Just this morning, one of her maids had mentioned that she was still young. Perhaps she might have more children. The insinuation had angered her, however well she had pretended otherwise. She loved her Aron. To act otherwise would be betrayal. No matter that Miranda is still in her early twenties, she would rather remain Aron's widow than become some other man's wife.
A harsh cane taps cruelly against the floor. Miranda raises her head to see Thantos approaching. He still needs the cane to walk since the battle, Miranda reflects. She has forced herself to respect his heroism, though she remembers that Aron had distrusted him. Clearly, Thantos had proved otherwise.
"I thought I might find you here," Thantos comments. Miranda does not reply, although she blinks, sending another set of salted droplets down her cheeks.
"Tears, my dear, are a luxury." He says smoothly as he kneels next to her, a little too close. He holds out a ring in the palm of his black-leather-gloved hand, "One you can no longer afford."
"Are you proposing to me?" She mutters, incredulous.
"Yes," He answers seriously.
"You're mad." She replies dryly.
"Why not?" He asks. "The court needs your defenses. We can't send you North in support of some archaic law." She starts to shake her head, "If you leave we're lost and you know it."
She frowns. She does know it. The defenses barely hold out at it is. "Our marriage would consolidate your power." She informs him shrewdly.
"We are at war, Miranda. We cannot be divided." He places an intrusive hand upon her shoulder.
"I don't love you." Miranda says, as steadily as she can.
"I know," he replies. "But I love you. Can't you take any comfort from that?"
For some time, she simply states at the floor. Her tears stop and she wipes her eyes.
"You expect me to ensure your monarchy is unchallenged?" She asks dispassionately.
"Yes."
She nods. "You expect me to reinforce the castles defenses?"
"Yes."
"You expect me to convince the public I wanted you?"
"Yes."
"You expect me to support your policies."
"Yes."
"And will you expect me to share your bed as well?" She asks darkly.
"Coventry needs heirs, Miranda." Thantos says decisively.
"My girls…"
"Your girls are dead." He interjects firmly. "So, yes. I must demand that."
"Oh, you'll enjoy that wont you? Even against my will?" She says cruelly. He looks back at her steadily. "Yes," she continues her voice icy. "I suppose you will."
"You're beautiful." Thantos answers huskily. Sardonically, he runs a hand down the side of Miranda's face, then her neck. The material of the gloves feels alien to her. When he starts to trace lower, she pushes his hand away, appalled. He chuckles darkly. "Who wouldn't want a beautiful wife?"
After a moment, Miranda takes the ring from his hand and jams in harshly onto her hand. "At least you were honest." She mutters.
"I want a short engagement." Thantos tells her.
"Fine."
"I want to marry you this morning." He adds. "It's all arranged. I have had an alter set up in the garden. You'll look striking next to the changing leaves." He looks her over, smirking.
Miranda responds to his leer with an angry glance, but does not object. The leaves in the garden are dead and crumbling on the ground, this late in the season, but this is far from a dream wedding already.
"Wear something colorful," Thantos instructs, gesturing derisively at her black clothing "I won't have you wearing black at our wedding."
"Why not?" She asks, gesturing at his attire, "I suspect you will. Do you even own anything else?"
"I don't care to repeat myself." He deadpans.
Miranda shrugs. She recalls a dark blue dress that will do well enough. Blue is not a mourning color, technically. She stands, and remembering his injury, offers him a hand.
"Is ten o'clock alright?" She asks as she shakes the dust from her skirts.
"No," he orders sternly, "Sunrise."
She turns to go, "Wait." He instructs. He turns her chin and forces her into a kiss.
Miranda tries to relax, but nearly chokes. The roughness, the demand, the pace, the aggression, the … the not-Aron-ness is frightening. She tries to calm herself as Thantos continues; academically reasoning what a striking difference there is between the two brothers. However, the reminder that she is marrying her husband's brother only disgusts her further.
She pushes him back, not too hard. "I have to get dressed." She tells him.
He lets her go. "I'll see you at sunrise."
She returns to her room and locks herself in. Then, she sinks back to her knees and indulges her tears for the last few hours that remain to her. Her eyes will be red and swollen when she stands at the altar that morning… well she does not care.