PRE-A/N: Hello. There were lots of "good chap" 's from the review. Thank you. Here's the new one.
CHAPTER 25- A Well Deserved Discussion
Once we had arrived back at Merindar Castile shortly before second gold-change, we were all tired and out of sorts. Father ordered coffee and food brought to us in one of the parlors not being used as a hospital so that we could have what he called "a long overdue chat."
The room was smaller than the one we had used as a war room a few days before, done in soft lavender with a vague, nearly indiscernible pattern in a slightly darker purple. There were cushions on the polished hardwood floor in varying shades of purple from periwinkle to deep violet. It was eye-catching in an entirely good way.
Who did their decorating? I couldn't help but wonder.
We all spread out about the room to fall onto cushions, Mother and I with slightly less self-conscious groans of overtaxed muscles then the men let loose. Had to keep face in front of the other males, and all that nonsense. Mother sat next to Father near the fireplace that was glowing softly with a Fire Stick to ward off the post-rain shower chill that occurred this far north. Alaraec took a position by the door that I had a distinct feeling Father had told him to take in case something should happen, so that we could use it as an escape or to cut off anyone trying to enter. I sent a little glare toward my brother, but he just shrugged and settled into the plum colored feather cushion he'd sat down on.
Flauvic chose a spot by the windows. He was being very careful with his facial expression and body language, and I had an urge to poke fun at him so that he would lash out at me, or to make him laugh, or something, just so that he wouldn't look so much like a woodcarving- oops! Bad choice of simile, considering...
I found a nice, almost reddish-purple cushion in the middle of the room. The message behind my position wasn't lost on anyone. I was acting as a buffer between two potentially hostile forces. I was good at this; I'd done it all the time when Oria had still been at home and she and Alec had gotten into an argument over something. What? You thought that because we were royal that we didn't have squabbles?
No one spoke until after one of the haggard-looking servants came in baring a tray with a coffee pot, fruit, biscuits, jam, sliced meat, and a little bowl of sugar and another of milk, and then left again. Father was pouring himself a cup of coffee after Mother had served herself when he spoke up.
"So, you bribed one of the militiamen in my company and took his place in the ranks," he addressed Flauvic. "My next question is why? Why did you do it?"
Flauvic shrugged with his good shoulder, attempting a casual lounging posture. "Who knows? Perhaps I ran temporarily mad. Now that I look back on my decision, I rather think that I ought to have left the fighting up to you lot and stayed home. I don't know what came over me to nearly make a martyr of myself."
Mother snorted, clearly implying that no one was going to see him as a martyr even if he had died.
"How injured did you get?" Father asked.
"Dislocated shoulder, bruised rib, and assorted cuts and bruises. Nothing to worry yourself about, Vidanric," he drawled.
"He wasn't going to," Mother assured him.
Flauvic narrowed his eyes at her in a fierce glare. "Why did I ever even consider you as momentary distraction?"
I had been about to take a drink of my coffee when I suddenly sputtered into the scalding liquid and flinched back. I was the center of attention again, only this time I hadn't planned it.
"Shocked?" Flauvic asked.
I shook my head and reached for a napkin to dry up some of the splattered coffee.
"No, no. Just...did you have to say it outloud?"
He did the one-shoulder shrug again, a tiny smirk on his face, and I glared. He was pleased that he'd managed to unsettle me, the little.... Well, a princess shouldn't let such a word pass through her mouth, let's put it that way.
I heard a muffled snort and turned to see my brother covering up a grin by shoving a biscuit in his mouth. He looked at me like he knew something that I hadn't told him and he was going to use it against me. Sibling blackmail at it's finest.
I didn't even bother looking at my parents. I had the feeling that what had happened yesterday afternoon was written all over my face, and I didn't want to see what they thought of the matter.
"Next question, shall we?" Father asked. "Elestra's note was a little hasty and didn't give all the information, only that Rathimon was a spy for Denlieff and you two were riding to try and stop the messengers from reaching the awaiting army. I got a slightly abbreviated version of the story from Meliara, but I'd like to hear what you have to say."
"Not much more to tell," Flauvic said. "Rathimon approached me to betray you. I considered it. I decided against it. I even decided to see if I couldn't stop the messenger from bringing down the Denlieff army down around our ears, seeing as Remalna's just recently, historically speaking, gotten out of a war. She," he indicated toward me, "found out and insisted on helping, although I did try to talk her out of it. She's very stubborn."
"And proud of it," I said.
He glanced at me in irritation. I raised an eyebrow. He rolled his eyes and looked away.
Exactly, I thought smuggly.
"The messengers had a summons-stone, I heard," Father continued. "Why didn't they use it right away instead of spending the energy on a long ride and engaging in a skirmish with the both of you?"
Hm. That was a good question. I looked over at Flauvic to see if he had a good answer, or at least a good theory.
Flauvic sneered- very carefully- and shook his head. "Please. The thing had 'shoddy craftsmanship' practically engraved in it. I could have made a better one when I was twelve. The messengers had to be within a certain range, and it was only good for one use on top of that. It went dead immediately after the man called the generals to move out. Frankly, I'm surprised it worked at all. I don't think he even knew if he would be in range yet or not. He took a chance when he saw that he might not get another."
Father looked skeptical. So was I. We both looked to Mother to see if such a thing was possible. She caught our silent inquiries and sighed.
"Yes," she nodded grudgingly. "If a summons-stone is made poorly, or made so that no one can trace the direction of the summons, it can only be used once and go dead right afterwards."
Father and I nodded, satisfied that she would back up the magical fact, if not the person himself.
"My final question," Father informed us. "What do you plan on doing now that you have effectively made yourself into a hero of the realm? What do you hope to gain?"
"That's two questions," Flauvic said.
"Final two questions, then," Father nearly snapped.
"What do I hope to gain...?" Flauvic mused, resettling again. "Hopefully, my home returned to me, my position reinstated, you as far out of my life as possible, and- although I'm not holding my breath for this one- my powers restored to me from the Hill Folk."
"HAH!" Mother said. "Life, let's hope not!"
"As for the other question," he continued as if she hadn't spoken at all, "I plan on returning to Athanarel, fulfilling my time as a servant, and then getting on with my life in some form or fashion. I was thinking I may even humble myself further and petition for Merindar to be given back."
"It was never taken out of your name," Father said coolly. "It is still rightfully yours for whenever you want it, once all the paper work is done."
That seemed to stop Flauvic. He stopped his tirade and just sat, almost staring, as if he couldn't trust what he'd heard with his own ears.
"What?" he asked softly, carefully, in disbelief.
"This castle, the grounds, the town, and the estate are all still yours," Father repeated. "I never believed that you would remain a tree forever. I kept them in your name for that time, however distant it may have seemed when I drew up the proposal, when you would ask for them back."
"Much as I tried to talk him out of it," Mother grumbled.
"Are you saying," Flauvic asked slowly, his temper rising, "that all I'd needed to have done when I returned last spring was to ask to have my lands returned to me...and you would have been obligated, by your own word, to give them back?"
"Yes."
Flauvic turned to glare at me, as if I'd somehow betrayed him so that he'd look like a fool.
"I didn't know," I insisted, shrugging. "Besides, I told you the estate was being held. I just didn't think that it would have been that easy for you to reclaim it. It was up to you, after all."
He grabbed a vacant cushion and brought it to his face. I could hear him mumbling into it: probably cursing himself, Father, Mother, me, fate, himself again, and whispering spells to turn us into all sorts of nasty things but which were entirely impotent to do any harm.
I resisted the urge to crawl over and hug him. I figured he wouldn't accept it, and my family might object. However, I couldn't resist chuckling under my breath. It was too funny. All this time struggling, and all he'd had to do was ask.
"May I make a suggestion?" Alaraec spoke up for the first time since we'd come through the front gates.
"Please do," Mother said.
"We are all very tired at the moment. It's been a long few days. Why don't we all get some rest and continue this when everyone is thinking clearly?"
"A very good suggestion," Father said. "Let's get some sleep-"
"Um," I interjected. "The rooms we were using are now housing the wounded from battle," I explained. "We'll need to ask Lemuel and Aulus where we can sleep."
Father looked stretched beyond his means. He sighed, gritting his teeth, and started to stand up. Mother put a hand on his shoulder and pressed him back down, giving him a sympathetic expression.
"I'll go," she said softly.
Father gave her a grateful, loving look. I smiled at them. Twenty-six years together, and it was still so obvious that they were in love. They simply clicked. It made me feel a little lonely just seeing it. Not as lonely as it used to, though. Just a little less. Maybe. Could be wrong. Who knows?
Mother reentered a moment later to inform us that we would be bedding down tonight in the Residence Wing. I flicked a glance at Flauvic to see what he thought of that. He was very nearly catatonic, staring at the wall in front of him, pretending that no one else existed. I drew the conclusion that it was a bad night for all of us.
POST-A/N: If you were surprised that Danric had kept Merindar in Flauvic's name after all that he'd done, well all I can say to that was- so was I. I didn't have any idea that he'd done that until I'd typed it and he told me so. That's what happened when I found out that the Denlieff army was still coming after Elly and Flauvic had stopped the couriers, too. Trust me, this story was supposed to be a lot shorter.