Rifiuto: Non Miriena
A/N: Written: 2006. Found: 2017- Licia
They found the young couple in the garden with the others; their children- for they had now a total of four, two daughters and two sons- were playing with Faola and her siblings. Tip, their oldest, was the same age as Havni and FechÃn, and if he were honest, he had a tiny crush on the oldest of the twins, but he'd never admit it. Though it was completely evident to both their parents ,and like their older brother, Amalina, Ojo, and Zixi, the three youngest, had come to think of the Tigelaar children as their closest friends and confidantes, for they had no other children to really play with, and had not been as exposed to the world around them as the Tigelaars were. Safe to say, Trot and Zor were fairly protective of their kids.
"Zor, is everything all right?" The young Governor turned as Trism and Elphaba joined them.
"I'm sorry for showing up like this, Trism, Elphaba."
"It's perfectly all right, Zor." Elphaba replied, pressing a soft kiss to Trot's cheek. "It's just rare that you visit unannounced."
The Governor and his wife exchanged a glance, and Elphaba felt her heart drop into her stomach. "Can we talk somewhere private?" The young empress glanced at her husband, before nodding silently.
"Of course. My boudoir okay?"
"That's fine."
Once settled behind the closed door of the Cerulean Room, Elphaba turned her attention to the matter at hand. No longer the carefree, young mother of eight, she now listened in concerned silence as the Governor explained the issue. "Ev is threatening to declare war on Munchkinland."
Elphaba sighed, her eyes closing. She rubbed her forehead, her own words ringing loud and clear in her head. "If Ev goes to war, then since I'm Partra's granddaughter, I will have no choice but to come to Ev's defense because my cousin is the King."
"Damn it."
"Fabala?" Trism reached out to take her hand, but she stood, going to the fireplace. He glanced at Zor and Trot, just as confused as they were.
"The day our engagement was announced, Tris. You remember why they pushed our marriage?"
"In case of war, but most alliances are-"
"Ev was pushing for war with Munchkinland back in 'twenty-four. They knew that because I'm Partra's granddaughter, and therefore, Sarima's great-niece and Everic's cousin, that if I married you, Ev would have the backing of two countries if war broke out." Her gaze moved from the photographs on the mantel to the portrait. "Everic has gone insane, if he believes that I will take his side in war. He may be family, but blood is not always thicker than water." She reached out, brushing her fingers over the faces of her family, forever frozen in time. "He signed my family's death warrant by turning us away. Papa asked for one thing- not his throne, or his country- just asylum, safety from the revolutionaries, but Everic couldn't do that. He was so concerned with keeping his precious throne that the very lives of his own cousin and his family were insignificant to him. And now he expects me to side with him, because we are family, we share blood."
Tears came to her eyes, blurring the faces of her mother and father. "I won't." She turned back to the others. "If Ev goes to war with Munchkinland, I won't side with Everic. Fliaan will not take the side of the man who killed my family."
"Fabala, Everic didn't kill-"
"He might as well have, Trism!" She cried, turning to her husband as he stood to go to her. "He turned us away! Not just my parents, but my siblings and I! We didn't care about his Goddamn throne! We just wanted to get out of Fliaan alive! We wanted safety! That's all! We didn't want his throne, we didn't want his country, we simply wanted safety. He couldn't- he wouldn't- give us that. So why should I give him help if he goes to war? He plays the blood card now; when my parents played that very same card, he turned them away. He showed exactly how high he holds blood." She turned back to the portrait, eyes locking on her father's face. "I will not back the murderer of my family, blood or no. You and Trot have shown more loyalty to me, and Fliaan, than Everic ever did."
The Governor and his wife shared a glance. "Elphaba, we don't want to go to war. And we certainly don't want to drag you into it. Either you or Trism." Trot replied, taking Zor's hand.
"You're a good friend to us, Elphaba. Both of you." Zor added, meeting Trism's gaze. The young king nodded, returning to his chair, perching his chin in his hand as he sat back. "The last thing we want is to involve either Fliaan or the Vinkus. Fliaan has finally settled under its own revolution; the very revolution that wiped out the monarchy and destroyed your family, Elphaba. And the Vinkus... from what I understand, it's a peaceful country."
"We only go to war if we must." Trism replied; he glanced at his wife, but she hadn't moved, hadn't torn her eyes from the portrait of her family. "We avoid it at all costs. My grandfather believed in peace among nations and countries; war was a necessity only if peace was unreachable. War costs too much- not just in money, but in lives and years, and it's not worth it, for the end cost will never restore the lives lost or years spent." He straightened, folding his hands in front of him. "But the problem is that everybody wants to rule the world, and they use war as a means to do so." The king wrinkled his nose. "If peace cannot be reached, I-" He glanced at his wife. "We-" He turned back to Zor and Trot. "Will go to war, but only after all attempts to stop it have been thoroughly, absolutely exhausted."
Neither Zor nor Trot missed the glance Trism threw his wife; it was evident that when it came to the well-being of the Vinkus, they made those choices together. Still new to this game, Zor and Trot were slowly learning that playing politics was all about compromise- if not between countries, then between partners. This young couple made it clear that while Trism had just as much power, he still bowed to her when required. Elphaba controlled the game; every move Trism made, every treaty signed, every declaration declared or official visit scheduled, was only done with Elphaba's permission. She was the strongest piece on the board.
"You don't control the board. I do."
"I'm... sorry? I don't understand." Trism smiled softly at Trot. She was still so young, she'd had so few years as the First Lady; unlike he and Elphaba, who had grown up watching their parents play this game, Trot- and yes, even Zor- still had a lot to learn.
"We don't control the board." Trism replied, as Cattery entered with tea and coffee. Once she was gone, the young king continued. "We never have and we never will. Women control the board. They carry the bloodlines; blood is more important than name, in this royal game, and Everic knows it. I move because she tells me too. She says 'Jump', I ask, 'How high, Your Majesty?'"
"That's horrible." Trot whispered; she knew the royal houses were intermarried, interconnected, interbred on some level, but this? What kind of people acted... like this?
"That's normal, Trot." He whispered. "A king does not make a decision without his queen's consent. He does not sign a treaty without his wife's input. She whispers in his ear, and only after considering her suggestions or comments, will he then make a decision. They work together, but one is stronger than the other, and together, they're unbeatable." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, gaze going to the chess board sitting on the table beside the cups, the near-finished game sparking an idea.
"Think of it this way- the whole objective of Chess is to checkmate the opposing king and protect the queen." He moved the king forward a space. "The more pieces removed, the greater the chance to protect her; by the end of the game, the king is one of the most powerful pieces on the board, but he's still not as powerful as the queen. The only way to truly protect the queen once the end of the game rolls around, is to have nearly all pieces removed from the board, and checkmate the opposing king, usually with only one other piece of the same color on the board." In a matter of minutes, he'd removed the other opposing pawn, and, together with the queen, in a rare move, checkmated the opposing king. "When it's the king and queen together, the checkmate is stronger, because you have the two strongest pieces on the board working as one. It all comes down to strategy and tactics- one requires thought, the other observation." He picked up the white queen, studying it. "It doesn't matter which does which, as long as they work together to make the best decision, because the best decision will help them to win."
"And the royal houses-?" Trot asked.
Trism chuckled, setting the queen back on the board. "The royal houses believe they are all winning the game. That couldn't be further from the truth. In actuality, many of them have been in checkmate for so long, they refuse to acknowledge it. Ev is one of them. Everic's wife passed a few years ago; he is simply a king, forever in a perpetual checkmate, unaware that he can no longer move or make any game-saving changes, and so he is grasping at straws to save his dying dynasty. Sad, really. My mother is from Ev. She has always been fond of Everic... but he is making moves that will only hurt him in the end."
"Wait, so you're... cousins?" A look of horror crossed Trot's pretty features, and Trism chuckled softly.
"No. We're not. My mother was born in Ev; she was a lowly princess; Everic was Frexpar's cousin on his mother's side. There's more of a connection somehow, but these families are all connected in some way, that it's laughable to try to keep them all straight."
"I will not let Everic win. He's an aging king who thinks he controls the entire game. He doesn't. I control it. I will not let an aging king dictate a world he no longer belongs in." Everyone turned, as Elphaba slowly tore her gaze from the portrait, turning back to them. "If Ev goes to war with Munchkinland, I will side with Munchkinland, blood be damned."