A/N: A line in the Kel books struck me as I was reading - that Kalasin wanted to be the first page, but Jon talked her out of it, for good reason. But Thayet was so furious with him that she slept in separate rooms for a year. A YEAR. That's a long time.
Anyway, this is my interpretation about what could have happened - the emotion behind their disagreement and their struggle to move past it and their eventual reconciliation. Please enjoy and review! I don't have a lot of practice with these characters, so any comments are helpful!
Words: 2146
Characters: Jon, Thayet, Gary, Alanna, Kalasin
Time: Pre-Protector of the Small series
Genre: Family/Angst
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to Tamora Pierce, not me.
He heard her enter in a rush. Thayet stood, shaking with rage, on the threshold; Jon leaned wearily against his desk. She must have heard.
Purposefully, he had not called for Thayet before talking to Kalasin about the new ambition she had proposed. It was a cowardly move. He knew his wife would not understand his decision, but it was one that had to be made. Kalasin's words, and his response, still echoed in his ears. Pa, I know what I want to do. I want to train to be a knight, just like Lady Alanna!
Kally, I'm sorry. You would make a peerless knight. But as princess of Tortall, your duty to the realm is different. Your duty is to protect her not by the sword, but by alliance. By marriage.
Now he was reaping his reward.
"Why didn't you consult me? You say we rule together, we raise our children together – you should have talked to me!"
"Thayet, I - "
"What happened to the man I married?" Thayet hissed. "What happened to the man who was going to change Tortall, to give women our rights, to let us fight?"
"If my life were my own, nothing would please me more than to let Kalasin become a page, as she wishes," Jon said, exerting extreme control to keep his voice calm in the face of his wife's fury. "But my life is not my own. My life is the realm. I must put my country first, and you know as well as I that our children must marry to Tortall's advantage. They have always known this."
"Knights may be married!"
"To Kaddar Iliat of Carthak? Or one of the princes of Tyra or Galla?" Jon asked sharply. "No, in that case, a female knight may not be married. Their countries would never accept it. Our country barely accepts it. Thayet, you have no idea how much it pains me to deny her this. But she cannot be a page."
At that, Thayet strode across the room, raised her arm, and slapped him across the face. Jon caught her wrist before she could strike again, watching her eyes fill with wrathful tears. She tried to jerk her hand away, but he held her fast.
"For all your pretty words, you still don't think women are strong enough," she spat. "That's it. You're a liar, an arrogant pig - "
"I know you speak only out of anger on our daughter's behalf, and not from your true heart," Jon said quietly, though he felt his temper rising. He attempted a wry smile. "How could I not believe women are strong, my cheek stinging like it is? How could I not believe it, with Alanna as my champion, you as my wife and queen?"
Thayet was not amused. She opened her mouth to speak again, but Jon interrupted her.
"Kalasin and I have agreed on this, Thayet. She knows and accepts her duty. And I have agreed, out of respect for her and her judgment and her happiness, to let her choose from amongst the suitable candidates. She will have a say in her future."
None of his logic swayed her. "She is still being sold for an alliance when she would rather fight for her honor!"
"You know how it must be!" Jon roared. His temper had got the better of him at last. "Our children must marry, or Tortall will be surrounded by enemies, and our knights will be killed! I have no choice but to halt the repercussions of my own marriage, one that did not win me any friends, by instead winning those friends with the marriages of my children."
"'The repercussions of my own marriage'? You are telling me that this is my fault? That our marriage was worthless? By deigning to choose me, you put your own happiness over that of your future children!"
"We married for mutual respect, for security, for love!" Jon matched her yell. "Is that worthless to you?"
Thayet ripped her arm from Jon's grasp; caught off guard, he let her go. "I will take my leave," she said quietly, her words still simmering with rage. "I can see that you will not be persuaded of what is right. Good night, Your Majesty."
Her hair whipped across his face as she spun around and left the room, her head held high, her back straight and sure. As soon as she was gone, Jon collapsed into the nearest chair, his face in his hands, still trembling with repressed anger. Part of him ached with sympathy for his daughter and shame for shouting at his wife; part of him raged, frustrated beyond compare with Thayet's obstinacy. How can she say those things of me? How can she forget our duty to the realm and its safety?
Perhaps he had spoken too harshly. He would not reconsider, but he knew he should have explained his reasoning to Thayet first. We rule together, he remembered. It was wrong of me to make this choice without consulting her… but all the same, it is my decision that will stand.
With this thought in mind, Jon lay awake in bed that night, waiting for her to return, so he could apologize. He wanted to acknowledge the sadness and sense of betrayal he knew she must be feeling. He wanted to remind her how much he loved her and valued her opinion.
But Thayet never came. Jon stayed awake the whole night, though at a certain point, he realized that she wouldn't come. The next day on his way to the mess hall, he heard a whisper from nearby maids that the queen had slept in the spare bedroom, far from the monarchs' chambers. She had asked one of the maids to fetch her things. Jon ducked into the shadows to let the women pass. So Thayet is planning to stay there.
Word spread fast through the castle that the king and queen had rowed. Thayet refused to even look at Jon when he walked into the mess hall, preferring instead to bolt down the rest of her food and leave in a rush. Alanna, glaring at Jon, followed her. Jon sighed and sat next to his closest adviser and old friend, Gary, who gripped him bracingly on the shoulder.
"It'll pass," he said kindly.
"I'm not so sure, after today," Jon said dryly. Gary only shrugged.
"I know you have your reasons. You're a king first, and a father second. Her Majesty understands that, but that doesn't mean she has to like it. She's a bit… willful like that."
"'Willful' doesn't even begin to cover it." Jon's younger children suddenly ran through the hall, laughing and chasing each other, filled with good cheer. Roald and Kalasin followed them more slowly. Kalasin looked at her father, nodded, and smiled a little. She mouthed to him, I'll talk to mama.
Will I have to deny all my children their dreams, as I denied Kalasin's? he wondered. He so admired the strength and maturity he saw in her, unable to tear his eyes away from her straight back and proudly raised head, so like her mother.
"There you go," said Gary warmly. "You'll be fine. Princess Kalasin will smooth things over."
But Thayet didn't return to their bed that night, nor the next, nor the next after that. After a week she began speaking to him again, though only when necessary and in very concise and formal language. Kalasin told him that no matter what she said to Mama, nothing seemed to have an effect. Even Alanna was giving Jon the cold shoulder - though he probably should have expected that. But Alanna was the one who forgave him first.
"It's a hard world we live in," she told him one day. Her small, rough hand found his. "We'll all feel better without so many enemies at our door. You do what you have to do. That… takes strength. I don't think I could have done it."
Jon could have kissed her, he was so grateful to have her on his side once more. "Can you talk to Thayet?" he begged. "Can you help her understand? She won't listen to me. Perhaps you…"
But Alanna shook her head firmly. "This is between you two. I shouldn't have taken a side in the first place, and for that I'm sorry. But you will work it out. She won't admit it, but she misses you, too."
It was some months, though, before Jon and Thayet even spoke about the issue again. It was a struggle, their reluctance to make amends. Each wanted the other to apologize first.
"Won't you come back?" Jon asked her quietly, as he passed her a long piece of parchment. To solidify in the minds of the people the fact that the king and queen ruled together, from the beginning of their reign they had taken to placing both of their signatures on official documents.
"No," she said, quietly, but resolutely. "I'm not angry anymore, Jon. But I just… need some time."
That was as much as he could hope for. They continued to scrawl their names in silence, until the last candle guttered out, and they departed, separately, for their private rooms.
More months passed. It must have been a year since they had argued. The children were anxious and confused, and Jon was starting to go mad from missing her. Not just physically, either – he missed her smile, her cool judgment, their archery contests in the yard. Every time he saw her, his heart ached, and yet she remained as distant as if they barely knew each other. As if they had never shared a bed, raised children, ruled together. The public was gossiping about royal discord.
During an evening like any other, Jon looked up from his desk to see Thayet leaning in the doorframe. She wore warm nightclothes, and her hair tumbled loose and free. "Kalasin just came to see me," she said. "She was so excited. She couldn't decide what to pack for the trip to Carthak. She looked… more excited than I've seen her in ages."
Jon blinked. Hope burned inside him, but he kept his answer cool and calm. "I'm glad to hear it."
"Can I ask you one thing?" she said, striding toward him. At her approach Jon instinctively rose and walked around her desk to meet her, but she kept her distance. "Did you ever wish it could be different?"
"Different?"
"Did you ever second-guess? Did you ever consider it? Did you see it in your mind's eye, Kalasin, kneeling to you, the Conté crest on her shield? Your sword touching her shoulders, me by your side, the two of us filled beyond full with pride?"
Her words painted a picture in his mind, a picture he had dreamed of, vivid and perfect. But he had always known it must remain a dream.
"I would give anything for that dream to come true," he told her, meeting her eyes squarely. "Anything except the realm."
Thayet smiled sadly, shaking her head. "You are a good man, a good husband, and a good father," she said. "But you are a better king."
"I can't tell if you are complimenting me or not."
"Nor can I." Thayet touched his cheek and stepped close. "You are the realm's king… but you are my man, my husband, and the father to my children."
He placed his hand over hers, reveling in the feel of her skin. "I'm sorry, Thayet. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you first, discuss it with you, before I made my decision. I do not regret my decision. But it was wrong of me to overlook your opinion and input. I know that a woman's strength is not something to be taken lightly."
"I am sorry too," she said. "I am too stubborn. I held this grudge much longer than necessary out of foolish pride. It was not right of me."
He saw the sincerity of her words in her dark eyes, and he found that, even if he had had the right words to say, he could not have spoken them, his throat was so tight. The same problem seemed to be afflicting her. He couldn't tell which of them moved first, but somehow their lips met, and only then did Jon truly realize how much he had longed for her touch and her affection, so familiar and precious. Quickly he pulled her into a tight embrace, one she returned in kind.
The maids were in a whispered uproar again the next morning, having witnessed the queen return to the king's chambers for the night and request her things be returned to her original quarters. Jon didn't mind. Thayet's head rested on his chest, her breath tickling right over his heart.
It felt, just then, as if the last year had never even happened.