Category: Queen's Thief
Rating: M
Couples: (at least mention of) Canon ones
Warnings: AU, potentially smut, Character death
Chapter: 8
Copyright: Characters & places © By Megan Whalen Turner, Plot & OC´s © by me
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Attolia took a deep breath, looking at the man across from her. At best, he looked like a pirate, being a grizzled boat-captain that had spend almost more time in his life on a boat-deck than on solid land.
"I live to serve, your Majesty." About the only thing that hinted at his relation to the former Guard Captain was his voice, sounding painfully alike.
She hated asking it of him, but it was a brutal necessity. They might have won the war, but sooner or later the Empire would be back. They needed spies in it and they had to be certain of their loyalty.
It had been an idle musing that it would not be strange for traders to travel all over the Empire until a more proper network had been established… and so they had arrived at Teleus' brother, a ship-based trader who would under no circumstances be tempted by the riches of the Mede Empire, since they had taken his last relative.
Which is how shortly – too shortly, perhaps – after informing him of his brother's fate as he arrived in the capital, they were now asking him to pretend to set up a black-market trade-network in the Empire of goods neither side would openly purchase for a good while.
It hurt her to see how easily he agreed and to hear the words Teleus had so often spoken one last time.
"Attolia will be indebted to you." She inclined her head lightly.
"It will be my honour." He was even more severe than his brother, though if Teleus was a massive bear, his brother was a scarred lion. "I hope I will be able to serve as well as he did."
"I have no doubt in the matter." She dismissed him, briefly offering him to have a boy guide him to the rooms where most of his brother's things were – Relius surely wouldn't begrudge the brother some items – but he declined, instead taking his leave from the palace the moment he could.
At this rate, she might well be risking the loss of almost every good person in her country.
"He agreed?" Relius joined her a short while later, arms crossed. The sight of him looking almost more gaunt than he did after his stint in her prison hurt her.
"Yes." She gestured to one of the other chairs. "I suppose he does not want to just sit idle after losing his brother."
He sighed softly, gratefully accepting the glass of wine she offered him. "First the plague kills every other close family-member and now this." Closing his eyes, his face turned into a grimace of pain.
"Painfully accurate." She did know how he felt for a good part of her life as Attolia. She did feel like he might have it worse though. "I am sorry you couldn't meet him."
"I don't think I could have managed." Her former Spymaster admitted. "There is… too much alike between them." Not to mention, he knew the most about the other man… and worst of all, they would inevitably reminisce about Teleus and he was nowhere near ready for that. He wrung his hands together before taking another drink.
"You don't need to stay here." It was an offer she had made several times already. He always turned it down, just as he did this time.
"I will endure, My Queen." He managed to offer her a sincere – if slightly weak – smile. "It will just take some time."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
It was almost ominous, the way they were taking care of him. Teleus had broken more than his arm when he had fallen and it could well take him weeks until he was back on his feet again and yet the physicians were still treating him.
From what he had managed to gather between his poor Mede and raw pain, some of his ribs were cracked and one of his ankles had been twisted when he first landed on it.
And he just knew that this 'peacefulness' would not last. His subversion of the intended result of the match would not go unanswered by Ghasnuvidas. The girl definitely had been meant to die, perhaps even he himself. Instead, he had won and the elephant was dead. He definitely had not gotten his reward for a good match, not that he'd wanted one.
Outside of his cell, things seemed to go on as normal. He still saw other gladiators move past to and from the arena and he still heard the soft footfalls of the girls.
Coughing softly, he groaned at the pain of his ribs. Gods, perhaps he should have let the elephant win… though that seemed the opposite of what they intended for him. His prayer to Eugenides had been answered, because there was no way he would have been able to do it on his own. He simply was not the type to start performing acrobatics on anything, least of which elephants.
Someone decidedly divine was adamant he live… he could only hope it was one of the gods he followed and not some Mede God who wanted more suffering from him.
"Gods, give me strength." Though he would not be able to tell strength for what exactly. He hoped it was something nice, something he could live with and not just a lifetime worth of captivity, humiliation and torture in the Mede Empire.