Mother, Must I?
By Lalita
~*Disclaimer*~
Megami Kouhosei is not mine, never has been, and never will be.
*~Author Notes*~
This is completely redone. I basically took the old fic, threw it away, and started all over. It's my first A/U fic, so any suggestions and criticism is definitely welcome. I tried to keep the characters IC, and I would like to know if my own people are Mary-Sue like… *shivers* Just so you aren't lost when you read this, it's set back in mediaval times- you know, castles and things? There are two kingdoms on Zion ( actually, there are a lot of kingdoms on Zion, but I'm only talking about two ), and they're called Gisana and Goala. Yes, I know I'm so creative. ^__^ lol Anyway, these two kingdoms are at war, so whenever the war is mentioned, it's referring to that. So… Please read and review!
~*Summary*~
Gareas Elidd, the Black Knight, is ordered by King Azuma to wed in three weeks' time. With the aid of his friends ( and a little unknown help from his mother ), he embarks on a quest to find the perfect bride- but she may be closer than he thinks…
~*Chapter One*~
A gentle breeze ruffled the trees, and vibrant leaves danced their way to the ground. Golden rays of sunshine peeked out through the pearly clouds, chasing away the chill from the rains the night before. The grass was still dewy and wet; roses in the royal gardens looked magical with droplets of water clinging to their velvet petals. A fresh, clean scent was carried by the wind, wafting into the castle through many open windows.
The castle in itself was magnificent. It was not crafted out of stone, as was traditional, but of the finest marble. The many turrets and towers stood gracefully, reaching to the sky and casting long shadows as the sun rose behind them. When the light hit the castle, it was like a gleaming, indistinct diamond, a rare treasure all throughout the surrounding countryside. A gleaming lake encircled the castle, shrouded by a dense forest that started almost immediately after the shore. Occasionally, a weeping willow dipped low and one of its branches touched the surface, sending ripples throughout the water.
The scenery was breathtaking, such as one out of a child's fairy tale. Unfortunately, one young man was not taking delight in his current surroundings. In fact, this young man was not pleased at all.
A loud crash resounded throughout the large chamber as the heavy oak door was nearly swing of its rusted iron hinges. Gareas Elidd, the infamous Black Knight, strode determinedly into his mother's quarters, his handsome face marred by a deep scowl. He took no notice of the lavish decorations in the rooms provided for them during their temporary stay at the palace, although they were indeed much finer than anything at his own manor, and he was considerably wealthy. It was just not his way to flaunt his prosperity and let it go to waste on parties for no occasion, tapestries with no purpose, and items with no need, as his father had been wont to do in his time.
The four poster bed was large, as was everything else in the palace. It was made of cedar, with elegant designs running along the posts and gilded nymphs frolicking on the head rest. An enormous woolen blanket had been draped across it, and with a jolt, Gareas realized it was his mother's. It had been a wedding present from long ago that she had always held dear. " She must have brought it with her," Gareas thought, and his anger at his mother slightly ebbed. Even now, three years after her husband's death and son's ascension to lord of the manor, she would not part with it.
However, the rest of the bed masked such plain accommodations. A silk canopy hung from the bed, rustling slightly as the breeze drifted through the open window. The damask curtains had been pushed aside and held back with thick, golden ropes, so as to let the fresh air and sunshine in. "Even the chamber pot- disguised as a floor pillow- is richly garbed," Gareas thought is disgust. The white marble beneath his feet gleamed, as if it had been recently scrubbed, and Gareas could even see his own face reflected in the surface. A finely woven floor rug lay not two feet away from him, and, with his usual disregard for things not belonging to him, Gareas trod on it with his muddy boots while crossing the room. He pushed aside a curtain of stringy beads, revealing the small, circular room behind them. The room was filled merely with a mirror, surrounded by a golden frame that was thickly encrusted with jewels; a low, but large table with yet another beautiful cloth strewn over it; and plush pillows on the floor in front of it.
There was a middle-aged woman surveying herself in the mirror. The lines of age on her face had been covered by cream and powder; as Gareas watched, his mother lifted a small container, screwed off the lid, dabbed a pad inside, and proceeded to cover her cheeks in red. It looked as if Lady Margaret Elidd was intending to impress those at court- particularly men. Her lips had been colored with another dark shade of red, her lashes had been made darker, and her hair... Gareas shivered. His mother wore her hair as the fashion for that time called for. It was held up with a number of accessories, and curled, at that. Lady Margaret reached up and pulled out a few wispy tendrils of gray, so as to frame her face.
Gareas was shocked. This could not be the mother he had escorted from the Elidd manor only a fortnight ago. His mother would never bother with such... flipantry. It severely irked him, not to mention the fact that she had still to acknowledge his presence. " Mother!" he roared, perhaps a bit more harshly than he had intended.
Lady Margaret jumped slightly, and, green eyes wide, whirled around to face her fuming son. " Really, son, was that necessary? Startling a woman of my age! Do you wish upon me a stroke?" she scolded. " Have I taught you no manners, for all your eighteen summers?" Then, having said her piece, she resumed to primping herself, apparently intent on ignoring Gareas.
But Gareas would not be ignored. He was furious, dammit, and it was all because of his meddling, interfering mother! " Do not start with me, mother!" Gareas warned, a wild gleam in his eyes. It was the look in his eyes of someone who had been trapped, and who had no route for escape- but wanted some compensense. Gareas planned to force the truth out of his mother, the truth of her involvement with his present predicament. He looked certainly dangerous. His wild emerald hair was even more unmanageable than usual; his eyes of the same shade were glinting with the fire of his malice.
Lady Margaret was becoming nervous, but she'd be damned before she'd let her son see it. " Start what, my dear?" she asked absently, patting her hair in a frivolous manner that she knew would only further annoy Gareas.
" You know perfectly well!" Gareas accused, sounding rather much like a boy throwing a tantrum. He crossed his arms, a sulky expression on his face, as he leaned against the doorway.
Lady Margaret decided to keep that amusing piece of information to herself. She knew that Gareas would be in no mind to hear her personal opinion at that moment- not that he ever did want to hear her opinion on anything, but now was definitely a time not to instigate him further. Instead, she contented herself with looking annoyed, and noting, in an offhand sort of way, " Someone awoke on the wrong side of his bed this morn."
" Not I!" Gareas protested, a hint of indignance in his voice. " I was in a perfectly fair mood... until my audience with the king." Gareas narrowed his eyes and watched for some sign of triumph, anything, in his mother's expression, but he found none.
" Oh, really? And whatever did the king, bless his soul, do to upset you so?" Lady Margaret said, feigning interest, although the news, as her son had suspected, was not new to her.
" As if you don't know," Gareas snorted. He clenched his fists. Why did it always seem like he was fighting a losing battle with his mother? Hell's teeth, he could do with another war now, to vent his frustrations!
" Actually, I don't," Lady Margaret retorted. She let out a small, " hmph", turned her back Gareas, and closed her eyes. " My son is insufferable," she thought, smiling wryly. " He's the mirror image of his father."
Gareas started to say something, but was interrupted by a slight knocking noise on the wall. Moments later, a small, timid, plain looking girl, most likely a chamber maid, entered the room, clutching a bottle close to her chest. Her chocolate eyes were wide and fearful as she saw Gareas, and she inched farther away from him. Then, upon remembering what her duty and station was, she dropped a hasty curtsy, almost falling over herself in her nervousness. She straightened and placed the bottle on the table, her head still ducked and brown, stringy hair hiding her face. " E-Excuse me, m-my lady," she stammered. " I-I fetched the perfume you r-requested."
Lady Margaret nodded. " Thank you, my dear," she said graciously. Gareas frowned half-heartedly. His mother always was far too lenient and kind with servants. " I believe your name was Ikhny, wasn't it?" his mother rambled on. " You my have the rest of the day off."
" T-Thank you, m-my lady." Ikhny cast one last, astonished glance towards Gareas, curtsied, and fled.
Lady Margaret uncorked the lid on the bottle, and a sweet fragrance filled to room. She lifted it up to her nose, sniffed it, and, satisfied, dabbed a bit on her neck and wrists. " Why was she bringing you perfume? You haven't worn perfume since Father died," Gareas demanded.
A look of pain flickered briefly onto Lady Margaret's face. The mention of her husband's death always managed to bring a pang to her heart, even though it had been three long, lonely years without him, and she had learned to manage on her own. An old bitterness swept through her as she recalled why he had passed away- the war. The very same war that Gareas, her only son, had so willingly participated in. The same war that had made her a widow; Gareas, a dreaded war knight. Shaking her head, she tried to block out the memories. She waved her hand dismissively, brushing aside Gareas's query. " No matter," she said stiffly. " What of your audience with King Azuma? Did it go well?"
Her questions led Gareas to forget his former comments, and, face darkening considerably, he spat, " Did it-? Did it go well? Bloody ashes, woman, how do you think it went?" He broke off to mutter a few choice words.
Lady Margaret wrinkled her nose. " Such a foul tongue, Gareas," she said airily. " I had thought you were brought up well enough to know not to speak in such a way in front of a lady. Tis not chivalrous. I simply will not have you speak in such a tone to me." She sniffed. " And as for your appearance with the king, I have not the faintest idea how it went. However..." Lady Margaret looked him over, surveying him. " You do not look at all pleased."
" Oh, aye, I'm far from," Gareas agreed, raking a hand through his hair. " I can only imagine that you would be as well, after hearing such startling news."
" Hmm?" Lady Margaret murmured distractedly. She fastened a string of pearls around her neck, then stroked the emerald that lay in the center. It brought out her eyes. In the mirror, mother sat at a lower height and her son towered over her. Although Gareas's mother's hair was gray, the eyes were exactly the same: almond shaped, shocking green, and likely to shine with the ferocity of their emotions rather than remain impassive.
But Gareas's impatience and anger had disintegrated. He knew that being mad with his mother would not help him now, that it would not change the facts, and that he'd be wasting his energy on arguing with her any longer. Of course, he wasn't going to admit that to her. He hated to give her any sort of satisfaction of being right- especially when the one in the wrong was him. " He ordered me to wed," Gareas said woodenly, his only sign of displeasure being his head in his hands. " In three weeks' time, else he will choose one for me. And he wants me have an heir by next summer."
" Oh, my," Lady Margaret gasped, setting down her perfume with a bang. Her eyes clearly showed her bewilderment, which was honest enough. She truly had not expected the king to give Gareas so little time, but that was a situation that had to be dealt with. " That is not very long, now, is it? Although..." She raised her eyebrows. " Tis not surprising he has commanded you to marry. Heaven knows you've waited long enough."
Gareas snarled, " I know you had something to do with it, mother." He held up a hand to silence her protests. " Don't try to deny it. You've been conniving and plotting for years to force me into wedlock."
Gareas's blood pounded in his ears. He was virile, young, in the prime of his youth! There was no possible reasoning to tie him down to one woman for the rest of his life! He did know that no one would think any the worse of him he had affairs whilst a married man, but Gareas had no desire to be unfaithful, even though the present society allowed it. His mother, as ashamed as he was to admit it, had instilled quite a few virtues in him, and loyalty was perhaps the most prominent, right along with always fighting for what he believed was right. What he believed was right at that time, however, was fleeing to another country to avoid the prospect of a future wife.
" I would never force you into anything I did not believe was good for you, Gareas," Lady Margaret said in a tight, outraged voice. " I am your mother, despite how much you wish to the contrary. How dare you fling such casual accusations at me! The king hardly needs motivation to issue such a command, least of all from me, a widow with no prosperous demense and noble family! Take a moment to consider the wiseness of you words, my son."
Lady Margaret really was horrified that Gareas would so naturally assume that she wanted him to marry just to tie him down. " Marriage will suit him well," she furiously thought. " But I pity the poor woman force to suffer with his terrible tempers and spoiled, arrogant manner! It will do him good to have a woman bring him down a peg or two!" Even though she had endlessly practices and rehearsed this very conversation with Gareas a million times in her head, she still was affected by his hurtful words.
" I have, mother," Gareas snapped, " and every conclusion comes to you!"
" Oh, honestly!" Lady Margaret threw up her hands in exasperation. " Really, Gareas, it's quite obvious why the king decreed such a thing!"
" I'd be interested to hear it!" Gareas threw back at her. There was an uncomfortable silence, where Gareas realized that the two had been shouting. His eyes danced with amusement. It was so easy to get carried away when fighting with his mother.
Lady Margaret, however, was far from amused. She planted her hands on her hips, pursing her lips tightly. She had not expected to have to explain to Gareas the king's reasoning; aye, she had assumed he would have figured that out on his own! It appeared she had over estimated him- again. " First of all," she said, much like she was about to lecture an impudent child, " you have no heir. If you were to die- and we all know it's very possible, what with all the risks you take- who would inherit your manor? It would leave your line forever. I know that you have decreed it to be Ernest Cuore, but who's to say that your cousin, Arthur, won't just assassinate him and take control? The castle is on the borderline between here and Gisana. Strategically, it is a very important keep, and we all know what may become of it if it befalls into Arthur's hands."
Gareas shifted impatiently, wanting to say something to defend Ernest, but his mother would not be interrupted. She paused only to take a breath. " The king is wary of Arthur, and, to be truthful, so am I. He is not as loyal as he claims to be, as you and I have seen on countless occasions. Ernest would not be able to fend him off. He's nothing like you."
Gareas nodded, understanding his mother's view. She was right; Arthur was nothing but a spineless coward, who would just as soon betray them to gain riches and save his own skin. And, as hard as Ernest tried, he simply wasn't made to be a fighter, although he was still a fine fellow. Gareas had met him years ago, playing a harp on the streets, reciting lyrics. Ernest always had been something of a bard, as he still found time to compose songs, even though he now had the responsibilities as Gareas's baliff. Gareas took on Ernest as a brother of sorts, and he found he rather enjoyed his company. Ernest could be counted on to be sympathetic and trustworthy. He was about to rise to the poor fellow's defense, but his mother trampled on right over him.
" And what would become of me, a helpless old widow? Times have been hard enough as it is, what with the plague every year and the after effects of the war," Lady Margaret's voice was tinged with the same bitterness and grief that she had felt earlier, and Gareas was assaulted with slight guilt, even though he was greatly humored by his mother's choice of words. She scowled none to becomingly at him, and had to firmly remind herself of the delightfully fat babies she would be able to spoil as soon as Gareas wed.
" All right, mother, I see your point," Gareas said grudgingly. Inwardly, he was laughing. His mother, a defenseless old woman? The very notion was insane! The woman could defeat an entire army by herself, wielding words as craftily as weapons and wild gestures in the place of shields. She's have the soldiers scurrying home to their pallets! It was impossible for Gareas to envision his mother as anything but a one woman conqueror. " But I still do not have to like it," he added, regaining some of his earlier petulance.
Lady Margaret smiled satisfactorily. " No one ever said you had to like it," she said tartly.
Gareas gaped. His mother hardly ever spoke so much like an ill tempered fisherman's wife, and she was perhaps the most regal of all females!
" I expect you'll soon be starting your, as you would call it, blasted quest? Tis not so simple a task, now is it?" she said, in a way that caused Gareas to think she could care less, as if she had more important matters than her son's searching for her future daughter-in-law.
" Wha-what?" Gareas managed to get out through his shock. " Don't you... Don't you even care?" Not that he was disappointed by his mother's reaction, Gareas assured himself. It suited him just fine to have her stop meddling in his affairs, but still. She could show a little more concern.
" Of course I do." Lady Margaret smiled sweetly, then re-adjusted her headdress. " It's just that I hardly know what young people want these days, and... well, from past experiences, you have proven not to agree with my... selections."
Gareas felt as though his jaw must have hit the floor. His past aversion to the women she thrust at him left and right had not stopped her before. It was ludicrous that she was giving up. Simply impossible.
Lady Margaret rose from her seat and glided across the floor, reaching a hand out to sweep the string of beads aside. Her gown was one of velvet, smooth and embroidered with a gold collar. It was her very best. " Now, Gareas, if you do not mind, I believe I shall depart."
" To where?" Gareas asked curiously. He made a move to block his mother from escaping, but she darted underneath his outstretched arm.
Lady Margaret turned up her nose at him and sniffed. " I do believe I am past the age of needing to explain myself," she informed him, looking down at him from the bridge of her nose. " But if you must know, I am going to meet a friend of mine... Lady Fujimura... and her daughter," she added, almost as if it was an after thought. Lady Margaret sailed through the still open chamber door and walked briskly down the corridor, her train- which was, at the very least, ten feet long- trailing behind her, sliding across the smooth, polished surface of the floor.
Gareas was greatly intrigued by this mystery and followed her, easily matching her swift pace with his longer strides. " Is it anyone I have met?"
" No." Lady Margaret sent him a sharp look. " You have no need to accompany me. Best not tarry in your chore, dear."
It was obvious that she wished to be rid of him, but Gareas would not be disposed of so easily. His eyes sparkled with interest. His mother was meeting a friend, and, most importantly, her daughter? A daughter that, for once, she did not wish to introduce him to? It was very odd. " I think I shall escort you, mother dearest. Besides, I have half a mind to meet this friend's daughter."
Abruptly, Lady Margaret halted. Gareas had to double back to reach her side again. She was quivering with rage- or was it fear? But what could be so terrible about meeting a woman? " You will not," she said firmly, shaking a finger at him.
" But why?" Gareas asked, smirking. Far from getting an answer, her mother just repeated herself and flounced down the hall. Gareas frowned. " Why not, Mother?" he persisted. " At least you can tell me." He looked closely at Lady Margaret, keeping an eye out for a reaction to his next words. " Is she... free with her affections?"
" Of course not!" Lady Margaret replied, almost breaking into a full run to escape her son. " Eleanor raised her properly! The girl is as innocent as a babe!"
" Then why can I not meet her?" Gareas pressed. His mother's lips thinned. " There is no other reason why you would not want me to."
Lady Margaret sighed impatiently and said, very crossly, " She is not suitable for you."
Gareas fought down a laugh. Nothing short of a questionable virtue had held his mother back before. At first, she had been more selective of possible brides to parade under Gareas's nose, but as the years wore on and he had shown no interest in the marital state, she had become desperate. Any woman, fair or ugly, with all the necessary parts had recently been presented to him- and the necessary parts did not always mean personality, or even all the limbs of a body. Chastity, however, had never been a point she overlooked.
" Is she betrothed, then?" he pondered.
Irritation briefly flickered over Lady Margaret's face. " Nay. Her betrothed was taken by the plague," she admitted, with great reluctance.
" Is she without dower or title?"
" Her father was fairly wealthy. She has a sizable dower."
" Well, then, why is she unsuitable? None of those things has ever stopped you before," Gareas noted.
His mother looked torn between telling him the truth and fleeing down the hallway. Gareas was surprised, and, yes, shocked beyond belief when the answer was finally torn from her. " She is... puffy."
" Puffy?" he echoed, laughing so loudly that nobles walking along the corridor sent him disapproving looks.
" Puffy," Lady Margaret confirmed. " Too... voluptuous, if you must know. Much too large for you, I think. And she is far too intelligent and strong-minded." Gareas bit back another chortle. Here she was, his mother, saying that this girl was too strong-willed, when she herself was more likely a thousand times worse! " Not only that, but she even reads," his mother continued, shivering slightly. " Nay, she is perfectly nice, I suppose, but not the one for you."
At that moment, a well dressed, young pair passed them, walking in stony silence. " Oh! Look!" Lady Margaret said delightedly. " There is Lady Kazuhi Hikura and her brother. I understand that her brother has not yet secured a husband for her." She paused, looking thoughtful. " I suppose she will have little enough coin for a dower, but you hardly need concern yourself with that. Why don't you see how she suits you?"
Gareas's eyes nearly fell out of his head. Now he knew something was wrong with his mother, and he seriously considered sending for a physician. It was a well known fact that his mother loathed the lady. For some reason, that had added to te girl's appeal in his eyes; he had once courted her. But the relationship had not lasted long. Her brother had watched over her like a protective hawk, and she was eerily quiet most of the time. Gareas could not deal with that in a woman. It was a shame, because she was so pretty, but he would not have been able to handle a wife who was unresponsive in every way.
Suddenly realizing that while he stood there, goggling, his mother was doing her best to loose him. Gareas rushed forward, losing sight of her as she rounded a corner. Moments later, he emerged into a palace hall that was much busier than the one he had previously occupied. It took several minutes to spot Lady Margaret, and once he had, she seemed to notice she was still being followed and put on a burst of speed. Gareas no longer suspected she was trying to leave him behind. He knew.
Lady Margaret was still a good distance away from her son, for which she was grateful. She slowed a bit to catch her breath, but in the next second, Gareas appeared behind her. Holding back a string of curses she had learned from Gareas, she turned to face him once again. " Are you not going to look for a bride? Do you truly wish Azuma to pick one for you?"
" I have plenty of time for that," Gareas said confidently.
" Oh, aye," Lady Margaret said scathingly. " A fortnight." Before Gareas could reply, she had bent low and doubled back, mumbling about dropping something. A group of servants passed in front of her, blocking her from view. Lady Margaret slipped out of the crowded corridor and into a small passageway that led to the gardens.
Lady Margaret's lips twitched. The plan she had devised was going perfectly. Gareas, no doubt furious with her and confounded by her behavior about Eleanor's daughter, would demand to go with her the next day, when she would again visit her friends. She would protest and try to avoid him once again, but this time, she would let him follow her. And, when they had reached their destination, he would unknowingly meet the perfect woman for him- hopefully, his future bride.
Lady Margaret entered the gardens and hastened to where Eleanor sat on a stone bench, eager to go over their plans for their children. " Tis a very good day indeed," she thought, before launching into a fervent discussion of plotting and conniving with her friend. Soon, Gareas would be happily married and she would have grandchildren, so long as everything went according to plan...