A/N: With a simple swipe of the sword Aiden Clancy was dead and Jim has been crowned the King in Grandvista. His new identity fuels him to seek justice for his father's death but also sets into motion a fateful meeting with a beautiful southern lady. No ghosts.

Jimel in a royal/historical setting is just *chef's kiss*

The idea spawned after I took down the Heir of Grandvista and I am turning it into this. Less Katie and Ned and more Jim and Melinda. Enjoy

Ages:

Faith — 47
Jim — 25
Ned — 22
Gabriel — 20
Melinda — 17
Katherine — 17

Faith lingered in the warmth of her bed in a hazy moment between sleep and wakefulness, feeling a moment of sheer and utter contentment.

For a few moments, she was able to believe that everything was as it should be. That she was in her bed back in Grandvista and that Aiden was sleeping beside her. Until she opened her eyes, she could pretend that it was true.

But when Faith opened her eyes, she recognized the old room at Oakheart as her childhood one and she knew that she would never wake with her husband laying by her side ever again. She had always known that Aiden would not be there to see their eldest son crowned King, but had hoped maybe he would be able to hold a grandchild or two in his arms. Now any grandchild they had in the future would grow up never knowing their grandfather as anything but a story, and as a statue in the crypt.

That was, of course, supposing that they did not all perish in this war.

It all settled like a stone in Faith's chest and with a sigh, she got up out of bed, making her way to her chamber pot to relieve herself. Afterward, she went to the looking glass and looked over her reflection carefully. She looked frail, her eyes drooped, and she had dark lines under them from losing sleep over the grief of her husband's death. It had been a long road these past few weeks, but Faith had no doubt that she'd made the right choice in following Jim in the field and not returning to Grandvista.

They hadn't been able to save Aiden, but without her guidance, her eldest son would doubtlessly still be under siege outside Oakheart trying to beat back the rebel forces, and her father…

Regardless, her father would still be dying, but at least this way she could be with him. Faith hoped that she was a comfort to him the way he was a comfort to her right now, in a way no one else could be. It felt wrong to be glad at how feeble-minded he had become because she hoped that at least he might not be aware he was dying. She hadn't seen her father lucid for more than a few minutes at a time in several days, and it was only yesterday that she'd begun speaking the truth to him, knowing it was unlikely he'd remember what she'd told him.

"Aiden is gone," she'd told him, placing his hand in hers, and he'd grimaced weakly at her.

"The…king? My god… is your heir old enough?" Her father had breathed. "Will the boy take the throne?"

"Yes. My son's coronation was just last week, father," she'd told him thickly, trying not to think too much about how much danger they were still in. "You saw Jim the other day, don't you remember?"

Her father had blinked sleepily, everything about him hazy. "James…yes…yes... has my eyes," he'd said unsteadily, and then the old man had fallen back asleep. "He will do good things as the King."

Faith had sat by his bed for some time after that, holding his hand, but he hadn't woken again. Eventually, with a sad heart and wet cheeks, she'd left. It had been the first time she'd said the words out loud, but strangely, she hadn't felt at all liberated from any grief or pain. She simply felt reminded that her husband was gone and her father would be gone soon enough too.

Instead of wallowing, she made to get ready for the day and rifled through the dresses she'd brought from home. Dressing had become somewhat of a chore because while Oakheart was her father's castle, there had not had much staff on hand. While usually she would have been upset at the idea, it was easy enough for her in her grief to desire being left alone. Once Faith had gotten herself dressed, there came a knock on her door, and she stilled.

It was rare that anyone came to her chambers, for she was sure she'd made it clear she hadn't wanted any visitors.

Who could it possibly be?

"Mother?" Came her eldest son's familiar voice after a moment. "Are you awake?"

Faith felt a rush of warmth in her chest at the sound of Jim's voice and when he called out to her like that, she could almost forget that he was a king now. That he wasn't fighting a war, but only a young man who still needed his mother.

She crossed to the door and opened it for him. "Good Morning, Your Grace," she said formally and could see the dismay on his face from that.

Jim had never liked his titles or the idea of being king, but it was his duty and his honor rested firmly on top of that. He was standing in the doorway, two lingering guards behind him, but otherwise alone.

"Good morning mother. Have you eaten yet?" Jim asked courteously, although he likely enough knew that she hadn't, for when she'd forbade servants to enter her chambers during the night and early morning, they'd stopped bringing her any food except on direct request.

She still gave him an answer though. He was the King after all. "I only just was dressing when you knocked. Would you like to walk with me to the Great Hall?" She asked.

He shook his head. "Not today. Would you do me the honor of joining Ned and myself in my solar?" He proposed to her instead, a bright smile on his face as he offered her his arm. "We'll share the meal together."

Faith smiled in return at that; it was rare anymore that she got to see her son and not the king, and abruptly, she remembered holding Jim in her arms just after he'd been born, red-faced and squalling. The memory brought a rush of warmth to her chest.

"Of course," she agreed and was guided back to his solar. "I would love to join."

It had been kind of him to fetch her instead of sending some servant to do so, she thought as they stepped into his solar to a vast array of foodstuffs, pastries boiled eggs and honeyed wine, it struck her that her son may have wanted something from her. Her supposition that she was seeing the boy and not the king for a moment seemed a miscalculation on her part. Still, she walked into the room and pressed a kiss to her younger son's cheek as she sat down at the table.

After a few moments of pleasant small talk, it grew quiet and Faith sat and picked absently at a pastry. "What is it you would ask of me, Your Grace?" she asked him in a knowing voice with a raised eyebrow.

Jim's face flushed red in embarrassment at being caught in his obvious ploy. Still, her son did not balk, which said enough to her. "I need you to be my envoy," he told her seriously. "To treat with Thomas Gordon."

Faith was equal parts shocked and unsurprised by the request. When just two weeks before, he'd been eager to organize a guard to take her back to the safety of Grandvista, she would have expected that he'd want to keep her safe behind the walls of Oakheart. In fact, she'd counted on it. How could she convince her son this was folly?

"When last I saw Thomas, he was a boy no older than ten and I was the same. I do not know him. Why would you want to send me?" She replied and it was true enough, though she wondered if the argument would be enough to sway her son. He may have been a child of Aiden Clancy, but he'd inherited all of her stubbornness. "Send someone else. My place is here with my father, for whatever time he has left."

Jim just shook his head. "There is no one else," he told her practically. "I cannot go myself, mother, and your father is too ill. I need to stay here to hold Oakheart until we march again—"

That took her back. "March?" she echoed dimly. "When will you march?"

Faith knew one day that he must ride off to battle again because wars were not won sitting behind walls, but she'd already pleaded with her son to keep him from marching on the rebels, from doing precisely what Rick Payne expected of him. She knew little of warfare but knew enough to know that was not a smart decision.

Jim nodded. "I cannot sit here waiting for peace to spread throughout the kingdom. It makes me look as if I were an afraid boy hiding behind his mother's skirts and that is no reputation for a King to hold. When there are no battles to fight, men start to think of home and may want to rebel or abandon their cause. Father always told me that."

My men, she thought with a sense of unease. He was even beginning to sound like his father.

As little as Faith liked it, she knew Aiden had spent much of his life preparing their son for this moment, yet still wishing it would never come. Part of her wished her husband had never prepared their son for war, but what good would that have done? Then Jim's may have been the host that was smashed on the battlefield instead of one of the rebels' outlying forces.

"No one has ever died of restlessness, but rashness is another matter," Faith tried to reason with him again. "We've planted seeds, let them grow."

"We've tossed some seeds in the wind, mother, that's all. I have sent ravens to all of the Lords in Grandvista who were sworn to father and still I do not have enough men. Half of them never even answered." Her son stood firm, utterly unconvinced. "I want peace as much as you do, but why should Rick Payne give me anything if all I do is sit here while my army melts away around me? You must treat with Thomas Gordon for me."

Faith felt a little desperate by then. She'd forgotten entirely his original request and had only a mind to keep her son from marching onto the field of battle again. "So rather than look craven, you will dance to Lord Rick's pipes? He wants you to march on his forces—" She tried again.

However, her son cut her off impatiently. "I said nothing about wanting to talk about battle plans with you, mother. Now, will you go to Aurora to treat with House Gordon for me, or must I send Ned?"

Faith said nothing for a moment, feeling a chill run through her veins. It was a boy's ploy, for she knew even a young ruler should be able to see how poorly suited his rascal younger brother would be for the task. If it was a threat, it was an empty one, or at least she hoped so by the look on Ned's face as he lifted his head from his food. In other circumstances, could he have convinced her with threats toward rashness? She was afraid he might have.

No, she realized, there was nothing for it. Jim was too stubborn to be made to back down on this issue with arguments about her father's health. It was the lever she'd pulled to get to Oakheart, but she could see that he wouldn't let her do that again. She knew she only had one argument left to her.

"Jim..." She trailed off slowly, still not certain what to say to him. She took a deep breath. "If it is I who must go, I will. I only worry about you."

Her eldest's brows furrowed. The apprehension in Jim's expression turned to confusion, and then subtle anger as he brooded in silence while sipping on his honeyed wine. "As much as I appreciate the thought, mother, I am a King. I do not need you to worry for me." He muttered into his goblet. "I have men who are sworn to protect me."

How could she explain it in such a way that didn't make him feel more smothered than he already was? How could she explain it in a way that didn't make it sound as though he still thought him a boy who needed her protection, without wounding his pride? Faith felt herself crumble under the pressure, the pressure she'd put on herself all this time, the weight of the grief she'd been keeping in almost too much to bear.

"I cannot leave you and not worry about you. You are my son," she confessed after a moment, her voice wavering as she looked between both of them. "My firstborn son, and now that your father is gone and my father will be leaving us soon, you and Ned are all I have left." Her throat felt thick with the words, but her words had lost all intentionality as soon as she'd begun speaking.

However, they achieved her aims in any case, for both men looked aggrieved for her, and not at all offended.

Jim reached for her hands instead, grasping them both in his. "Oh mother," he breathed, his voice filled with the same grief she felt, but then he cracked a small smile. "If all goes to plan, you will soon have a grandchild to keep you company."

Faith glanced over at Ned, thinking maybe he'd finally gotten one of the peasant girls her youngest so often liked to bed with a bastard child.

Only Ned shook his head. "Not me," her younger son confessed with a sheepish smile. "I have not been foolish enough to sire a child yet, mother."

She turned back to Jim. "You then?" She asked. "How? When?"

Her eldest seemed surprised by her abrupt change in topic, uncomfortable really. "This is surely not the topic I meant to bring up—" he began to protest, but she shook her head.

"I may be your mother Jim, but I am not deaf or blind to rumors and whispers around servants. Just spit it out," she said with the roll of her eyes. "I know you visit brothels just like every other man your age. Your father visited his share as well."

Jim looked almost petulant at that. "I was not foolish enough to sire a child outside of the bound of marriage mother if that's what you mean to ask me," he admitted glumly. "I only mean to broker an alliance with Lord Gordon in more ways than one. I need more men and the easiest way to have a man pledge to you is by marrying his daughter. I am a King and I will need a wife."

Although Faith had suspected it, it pleased her to hear him say so aloud. She released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her son wanted a wife for more than just logical reasons she could tell, but were the Gordon's the right family to broker such an alliance with?

"That may be a good decision," she put forth finally. "However, your father never had a good relationship with House Gordon or his lordship of Aurora. They are a prideful house with a lot of money. A new house the rose up from the last rebellion."

Jim's lips pursed thoughtfully. "I know. Money is yet another reason for me to want to broker an alliance," he told her, sighing. "I only wish I could talk to father about this. I don't want to injure Lord Thomas' pride by sending a woman instead of a proper envoy."

She nodded. The pride of men was a thing she knew well. "We will win him over with flattery then," she told him. "From what I know Thomas is cautious and well-spoken and not quick to anger. You are right that there may be a slight upset at the idea of treating with the queen mother and not the King himself, so I think it might be best to send your brother with me. He will impress Lord Gordon enough without it being an insult to him. Be prepared to give Thomas some small concession, if the flattery is not enough."

Jim nodded, then, reaching up to scratch at his dark chin hairs which had begun to grow out as he left it untrimmed during his time of mourning for his father. "I shall acquiesce to your suggestion on one condition," he told her after a moment, his voice measured. She tilted her head at him in an inquiry. "Tell me all you know of Lord Gordon's daughter. All I know about her is that she was pledged to one of Rick Payne's commanders, but the pact was broken after Father died. If she is to be my bride I wish to know some things about her before you make the match."

Deftly done, Your Grace. Your father would be proud, Faith thought to herself.

"Of course," she agreed, squeezing his hand. "I will tell you what I know."

The sound of steel clashing against steel filled the air and out on the parade ground, two figures clad in armor struck at each other, their movements a blur of dust and armor. Hundreds of onlookers cheered, the cries drowning out the grunts of the two combatants as they fought viciously before the roars of the spectators.

Beth Gordon watched it all, bored out of her mind.

The amount of 'pretend' combat she has had to watch in her life was truly terrifying. If she was to calculate how long she'd sat having to endure that nonsense then she'd truly lose her mind. Besides the calculation in itself would be a pointless endeavor. The end result would just depress her. Besides she couldn't afford to waste her time in such a manner, she only had a couple of years left to her as it was.

She sat, along with members of her family, on a raised dais in the center of the parade ground. Thomas, her husband, sat in the middle of the group. Beth sat to his left, with Melinda, their daughter. On Thomas' right sat Gabriel, their son, who was watching the contest before them with rapt attention. Makes sense she supposed, their son was always the true fighter in the family. Even better than his father.

The two knights before them came in close, their swords pressed against one another, each fighter straining to overpower the other. The shorter of the two, dressed in red armor, suddenly gave up the struggle and dipped his sword. He ducked under his opponents now unimpeded swing, dove behind, and came up swinging, trying to strike his opponents unprotected back. However, his opponent was not as off-balance as he had thought. Nor was he as slow as someone in armor should have been.

Before the red-armored knight, or anyone for that matter could register what had happened the taller knight had spun, their sword instantly parrying the surprise attack. Having deflected this, the larger knight began to rain blows down on their opponent. The other had no choice but to give ground, being pushed across the tourney ground, unable to do anything but desperately block the barrage of attacks being made against him. One particular blow caught the guard and struck the side of his head.

The shorter knight was knocked off balance and was sent sprawling. Before he could recover, his opponent was on him with another blow that brought the knight to his knees and a well-placed kick had him lying in the dirt The larger knight moved in quickly and brought their sword point to rest on their opponent's throat.

"I yield! I yield!" The red-armored opponent yelled out.

The spectators around erupted in cheers as the taller knight dressed in simple, but new armor stepped back, offering a hand to his downed foe. For a moment the vanquished knight seemed surprised by the gesture, regarding the offered hand as something akin to a poisonous serpent. Then, after a brief hesitation, the knight took the hand and allowed his opponent to pull him to his feet. The applause of the spectators reached deafening levels as the two knights shook hands.

How chivalrous, Beth thought drily. Though she sensed this was more done for honest motives than merely playing to the crowd.

Thomas stood; his clothes the deepest shade of purple, a broach of his house sigil glistening as it clasped his cloak about his neck. Her husband was clapping along with the crowd and smiling broadly. "We have a victor! Approach good ser and be recognized for this great feat," he shouted.

The taller knight walked briskly to the ground in front of the dais, quickly unstrapped his helm, removed it from his head, and placed it under the crook of his left arm. The man was of muscular build, his short blond caught the sunlight and a charismatic smile as he basked in the roar of applause around him still. "I am Prince Ned of Grandvista," the young man called out to introduce himself with a slight bow of respect, but nothing too formal. "And am happy to make your acquaintance, my lord."

She had had trouble placing him at first, but yes, Ned Clancy. He was the brothel-hopping son of the late King Aiden and the younger brother to the current King James.

A hush descended on the crowd as if all sound had been sucked from the vicinity by some giant. Had the prince truly traveled all of this way without anyone knowing?

Thomas was taken aback, his mouth opened and closed. "I wasn't expecting a royal visit, Prince Ned," the man spoke and seemed confused. "Though it certainly is nice to see you and the prize is still of course yours. Ten thousand gold coins."

There was only the smattering of applause, it was clear that most of the crowd was still confused as to why their prince hadn't announced his arrival from the beginning. With the rising rebellion and sudden death of King Aiden, he was a welcome sight, but a strange one.

Beth only sighed, rubbing her temples. This was supposed to be a pleasant distraction for the men, not a cause for more ill-feeling.

Her daughter's voice distracted her. "Katherine would have loved this tournament," Melinda said softly to speak more privately. "She always had a sort of crush on Prince Ned. I'm not sure if she still does."

Sure enough, Beth saw that her daughter had leaned in to engage her in conversation, looking radiant as always in a simple pink gown with roses sewn upon it and had now again tuned to look wistfully back over the tourney ground. She nodded slightly. "Yes, it's a shame she couldn't be here," she replied.

Melinda smiled, but there was still concern hidden behind her glass face and in her eyes. "Do you think she will return soon? She hasn't written since she left to care for her mother." Her daughter's voice seemed to crack with emotion and for someone as simple as her lady that she had grown up with. "I can't bear the thought of her suffering."

"Oh put away your bleeding heart Melinda." She snapped, not in the mood at all for the sight of tears, especially in public. "Katherine knew what she was getting herself into going to her mother's death bed."

Her daughter inclined her head submissively. "I know, mother." She sighed pitifully. "But you know what she's like. Katherine holds her heart on her sleeve and losing her mother may be more than she can withstand." Melinda looked up at her, all innocence, her almond eyes framed by her exquisite face. "It was hard enough on me when we lost grandmother years ago."

My God, I have raised a monster who knew how to play the game too well. "She will return in time my sweet girl and you will be there for her," she said in reply, hoping to lift Melinda spirits somewhat. "Like you always have been."

Melinda nodded slightly in return and, letting the matter rest, sat back in her chair. Meanwhile, her son was presenting Ned with his winnings. The young man took the heavy bag with the brightest of smiles and turned to the crowd, going to greet some of them and even share some of his winnings as he tossed several gold coins out. Within a heartbeat, the tourney ground was abuzz with claps and cheers.

But with the melee over, the crowd began to disperse quickly and Prince Ned approached the dais again. "My lord?" The young man called out.

Thomas turned from his conversation with Gabriel and smiled widely at the prince. "Prince Ned! What a well-struck performance today, lad. What can I do for you?" Her husband asked, glancing over at her to see if she had any idea what he may ask, but she hadn't the slightest.

Ned seemed slightly hesitant and put out by the familiarity being shown to him, but tentatively stepped forward. "My mother would like to request the privilege of speaking to you." The young man said.

Beth leaned forward in her seat. Finally, the day was becoming interesting, she thought.

Her husband looked quizzically at the prince, but after a moment Thomas beamed a smile. "Of course, of course," he boomed, his voice loud enough for all to hear. "It would be our honor to speak to the Queen Mother."

Ned nodded and gestured towards a group of soldiers who instantly parted allowing a woman, definitely the Queen-mother who was still beautiful in her older age, and the group made their way to the dais.

Beth was amused. She wondered what the wife of the late Aiden Clancy, a man notorious for not competing in tourneys, would have made of such a display at a melee. Especially by their son.

Lady Clancy stopped a short distance from the dais. Her son spoke, announcing her. "My lord, may I present the Lady Faith Clancy, wife of the late King Aiden, and the Queen-mother," Ned said.

Beth scrutinized the woman in front of her. Her clothes were travel-worn but she carried herself with dignity, despite her evident fatigue. The lady's hair was still a golden blond, even in her old age like her younger son beside her. Faith once must have been a beauty, not in the same league as Melinda perhaps, but still, she must have been a prize back in the day. Though, so was Beth.

"My Queen, you are very welcome amongst us." Thomas addressed her formally and with a smile.

Faith looked up with a matching grin. "Thank you, my lord, for agreeing to speak to me. You are too kind to still call me a queen." The woman said solemnly.

Thomas had opened his arms wide in welcome and shook his head. "No, no, no thanks are necessary. It is an honor to receive you and you shall always be a Queen in my heart. May I present my wife, the Lady Beth, as well as our two children, Gabriel, and Melinda." The four exchanged nods and smiles. Thomas beamed as he introduced his family to this stranger in his camp. "May I ask what has brought you here?"

Fath looked confused. "I-I thought," she stuttered and then glanced around her, "….perhaps we could talk in private my lord? It would be better for us all."

Thomas smiled benevolently. "Of course. You must be tired from your journey. Please come with me." He stepped down from the platform and offered his arm to his guest.

Faith accepted the invitation, laying her hand on top of Thomas' forearm. Together they made their way off the tourney ground with Prince Ned following closely behind. Beth stood and Melinda was instantly at her side. Together, they made after the two departing figures. Accompanying them were a number of their principal guards, but they kept a respectful distance behind Thomas as he walked arm-in-arm with Lady Faith towards his tent.

Ahead Beth saw her husband talking idly with Lady Faith, gesturing this way and that, chuckling at his own light-hearted jests. Anything to while away the time as they made for a more private setting. For all his bluster, she must admit he was very good at putting people at their ease. In a few moments, they arrived at the tent and it was by far the largest that their camp had to offer. Beth and Melinda, along with their guard came in just behind them.

Inside the decoration was lavish, filled with ostentatious decorations. Vases stood on plinths, expensive rugs covered the floors, there was even a painting of their homeland of Aurora hung on one of the canvass walls. At the center of the room was a wide table, over which was spread a map of the region. Thomas pulled a chair out from the table and Faith gracefully sat down and accepted an offer of wine.

Beth wasted no time in occupying a seat from which she could observe both Faith and her son. Melinda sat next to her mother, her face betraying curiosity. Gabriel occupied a seat near to Lady Faith, smiling warmly. The Gordon bannermen filed out around the room to form a circle around the table.

Faith looked around the room. "I had looked to talk in private with you, my lord." The woman was polite but firm. "Not in the company of your entire family."

It was true Beth wasn't invited, but Aiden Clancy will rise from the dead before she let Thomas conduct this meeting on his own.

Thomas smiled easily at her. "Apologies my queen, but my wife is one of my most trusted advisors and my son will soon be Lord of these lands one day. I would only have to repeat what you told me afterward to them and my daughter has always had a place in my council if she so wishes to have one."

Faith did not return the smile but nodded in acceptance of the words. She seemed to be thinking this through. "I see," the woman muttered and shade a silent glance with Prince Ned, who whispered in her ear.

Beth smiled to herself. This had completely wrong-footed her. She must be here to negotiate about something and had not meant to do it in front of her.

Melinda broke the silence. "We were grievously sorry for what happened to your husband and men, my queen," her daughter said, the soft-spoken bleeding heart that she was. "We promise you, no one here believes the lies the rebels have spread about him."

Well said, you clever girl. I taught you well.

Faith inclined her head graciously at her daughter's comments, "Thank you, my lady. You are very kind." She murmured.

Her husband, seeing an opportunity, spoke up. "If I may be so bold, might I ask you a question." Thomas carried on quickly to prevent any objection the woman might have had. "We have been deeply concerned about events that took place when King Aiden rode into battle a few months ago. Can I ask if you'd have any word of your son's movements? Is there a plan in action? I received a raven, but was unsure to send men for a dying cause, even for my king."

It almost seemed as if everyone leaned in towards their guest, the curiosity overwhelming the group. So much depended on Faith's answer, but Lady Clancy did not speak for a moment. She took a sip of wine to buy herself time before answering. If anything, this delay created an even greater feeling of suspense.

Ned's anger had flared up, being the younger sibling gave him more freedom to do so than his older brother who was now King. "You are sworn to the crown, are you not?" The young man asked, fist colliding with the table and spilling some of his mother's wine onto the wood.

Quickly, Faith waved his mouth closed, and the boy fell silent. "The King is planning many things right now," the woman said slowly, "Though I am not privy to his war counsels."

That was a rather sparse response but had sort-of answered the question without any embellishment.

"You must forgive the forwardness of these questions, my queen. We have received very few messages down here about the goings-on in Grandvista, being so far south. We heard about the rebel invasion and of their string of victories, but then things became clouded. With Aiden slain, your son quickly coronated, and rebel hosts destroyed, it seems almost unbelievable."

"The tides are changing." Faith said as she set her goblet down and looked directly at Thomas then. "I want you to listen closely and believe my words, my lord. Elias James was beaten and taken captive once his host was destroyed before the royal host rode to Oakheart. Lord Rick has retreated like a whimpering dog to Stonecrest for now and my son now commands the combined forces of House Clancy, Rochford, Flaherty, and Hightower."

Thomas nodded. "Well, give my congratulations to your son and his men. It seems they've done the impossible when outnumbered 5 to 1. I never thought I'd live to see the day when a commander such as Rick Payne was beaten into a retreat." The sentiment was followed by murmurs of agreement from the assembled people in the tent.

Careful Thomas. Elias James was the one that had been beaten. Rick Payne has yet to actually fight on the field against King James.

Lady Faith seemed to be of the same mind. "This war is far from over my lord. While we have taken some victories, there have been just as many terrible defeats and we still have far to go if we wish to have our peace in Grandvista as a whole."

"Well, I wish you every success, of course," Thomas said, smiling thoughtfully. "Though I am given to wonder why in the midst of such tremendous upheaval you have traveled all this way… with the prince no less."

Isn't it obvious Thomas? The Clancy's are looking for allies when so many other families have refused to send men to their cause. Their house included. Until now, possibly.

Faith grimaced. "I apologize, my lord, for not telling you the reason I asked for this meeting. I came to negotiate an alliance between House Gordon and my son."

The atmosphere in the tent was tense, but Thomas shattered the awkward spell that seemed to have descended on the room. "Well, my queen, I would hate to think you came all this way for nothing. You and Prince Ned will stay overnight with us and, after you're rested, perhaps we can think of a way to join our houses for everyone's mutual advantage."

Faith stared at Thomas, thinking it through. "I would be honored to accept your hospitality, my lord."

A short while later, the Gordon's were alone in the tent and the four family members sat facing each other. They had all had their goblets refilled by Thomas' squire who had then retreated from the tent to allow them to converse in private.

"What are you thinking Thomas?" Beth asked, cutting straight to the point.

Her husband's eyes looked into his wines' depths thoughtfully. "There is a lot to think about."

Perhaps he'd also like to observe that wine was wet? "At least tell me that you're not thinking of trying to make yourself King." She muttered. Gabriel and Melinda both looked at her open-mouthed, but inwardly, Beth smiled and hoped they knew where she was going with this.

Thomas himself glared at her, his head jerking up to look at his wife in unabashed astonishment. "Why, my love, how could you even think…" He muttered.

"Don't give me that speech," Beth replied, cutting him off. "It's a poor wife who doesn't know how her husband's mind works and I saw your eyes light up when you heard the King had sent his mother here to treat with you. If he destroys the rebels and you offer your support to him then he may reward you. Or you could wait for them to destroy each other and then sit your ample backside on the throne."

"No, no." Thomas blustered, shaking his head. "I have no designs on the throne for myself but it got me to thinking about… well about…"

"Me," Melinda finished abruptly. Their daughter's face was impassive at best, no real implication on if she wanted to be Queen or not, but was offering herself anyway. Melinda's hands were resting in her lap, the very model of a dignified maiden. "He's talking about me."

He responded weakly. "Yes… you... my sweet. I was thinking about how delightful it would be if you could be Queen." Thomas was like a dog with a bone.

Beth snorted. "Really Thomas, this bid to auction your daughter off to the highest bidder is very uncouth. I'm disappointed in you."

He looked wide-eyed between his wife and daughter. "Really, Beth?... Melinda, I mean no disrespect…."

She sighed. One step forward, two steps back. "The Clancy's are winning for now Thomas, but they haven't won the war by any stretch. Rick Payne is still in the field with a full army behind him."

He grew incredulous. "The Payne's are cut off from their home, and from reinforcement and supply. They can't possibly prevail." He replied.

Beth raised a single finger. "Never discount Rick Payne," she said pointedly, "I grant you that he's currently in a bad way, but don't let that lull you into delusions of victory. This war is far from over. Which, of course, is why Lady Clancy is in the south looking for allies. We can provide that with a marriage pact and by providing her men." Beth looked at her relatives shrewdly. "The question is, should we? Do we know what kind of man King James is? Just because he is a King does not mean he is fit for our daughter."

"Well," he sat back, reaching for the goblet on the table in front of him. "If we make an alliance with the crown then we'll be in the same position we were with the possibility of backing Rick, only better."

"What happens at the end of the war?" Gabriel asked suddenly, looking from his father and then to his mother.

Melinda spoke up, her voice was clear and full of intelligence. "It seems to me we have three realistic options. The first is to support King James… he is the true heir." Their daughter let that hang in the air for a moment.

This option was appealing for several reasons. Thomas' actions, up till now, had been to improve the Gordon family's position in the power hierarchy of the kingdom, and supporting James would be keeping with this plan.

"The second is to back the rebels and Rick Payne," Melinda muttered quietly. "Which isn't favorable after everything that has happened..."

That wasn't likely. The cold hard truth was that the rebels were losing this war and they had already broken on marriage pact with one of Rick Payne's commanders for Melinda. That had been a disaster Beth saw coming, but Thomas had ignored her.

"Finally, there is the option of neutrality." Beth took over for their daughter and summed up the rest. "That will only end in being charged with treason by whoever wins."

"Yes, yes," Gabriel said quizzically. "What do you think, father?"

"Backing the Clancy's is our best option," Thomas noted, grimacing. He had never been a close ally with them. "But is it the most logical one?"

"You're both missing the point," she said to her family. "Irrespective of the war's turn out we need to make a decision now and if we choose the wrong side it will end with us all dying. That is not something we can ignore."

"But, you forget mother," Gabriel spoke from the other side of the table. "We could always do exactly what we've been doing."

"Nothing, you mean?" Melinda bit back in her defense, still smiling lightly.

Gabriel had the good grace to blush. "Well, yes, I suppose. Why should we commit ourselves at all? We could just wait for all sides to exhaust themselves."

Thomas was nodding. Beth was not surprised, inaction has always appealed to him.

"I'm afraid that stalling is no longer a viable strategy, father," Melinda replied.

"She is right, Thomas," she agreed.

Thomas stared at her, disbelief clouding his face. "What's this? You were the architect of our 'wait and see' plan and now you say it's not working?" He muttered, finishing his goblet of wine.

Beth sighed. "That's not what I said, Thomas. Do try and pay attention. The strategy of waiting has served us well up until now but that game has run its course." She muttered. "One of these forces will be victorious. When that happens that side will know what we did to help them or to oppose them. We have to pick a side and, right now, that could make all the difference to that faction. If we help a side to victory then we'll be seen as heroes."

Thomas looked at her. "So what would you have us do? Back the crown?"

"It is the only logical option." She said plainly. "Unless you want to be considered traitors and cost us everything."

Her husband, who was nothing if not simple, glared at her. "But at the end of the war, what will happen? We have no way of knowing."

"It is unlikely anything bad will happen," she muttered. "At the moment it truly appears that the King only has an interest in our men, but there may be another secret ploy at hand that we do not know about yet. All we must do is simply take favor with the King."

Thomas sat back with his arms folded. "How do you intend to do that? The King is not here. He sent his mother as an envoy," he scoffed.

"Not me… and not here, you dumb fool," Beth said while turning and gesturing at their daughter. "Melinda will."