"You did what?"
She had dressed to seduce. A shot silk in every hue of blue, with a gold belt draped about her waist. She had painted her nails and rearranged her hair. Soft wisps of artfully arranged strays framed her face. She was delicious and she was angry. He set aside thoughts of losing himself in her most intimate places. He could be sleeping in a bunk in the barracks with the palace guards if he did not find a way to appease her.
"Of all the testosterone driven idiocies in the universe, you had to let our fifteen-year old son enter a displaying competition?" She sputtered. "What were you thinking?" She slapped her forehead. "Tyr? What haven't you told me?"
If he had doubts, they were quashed. With that one question, she had proved that she knew him better than any being in the universe. He was about to answer her, when they were interrupted by a whirlwind of youth.
"Mother, did Dad tell you?" Tamerlane's gait was cocky, his countenance, joyous. His excitement blinded him to the chill in the air. "In the Progenitor's name, Mother, it was exciting. The crowd cheered. The females drooling over the arena fence. The air was thick with hormones." He plopped himself in the chair by the fireplace.
"Are you hurt?" Beka flinched when the words fell from her mouth. I sound like somebody's mother. Arghh! I am somebody's mother. She placed her hands on her abdomen.
Tyr jumped to her aid. "Get out of that chair, boy. Can't you see your mother is in distress?"
Tamerlane pulled himself back into the moment. One look at Beka and he leaped from the chair. "I'm sorry, Mother. I'm so sorry. Please sit down."
When her men were certain she was comfortable, Tamerlane fetched a stool for her feet and Tyr placed a pillow at her back. They backed away, to stand silently waiting for her bidding. She let them stew for a moment while she gathered her thoughts.
"Are you mated?" She directed the question to Tamerlane, who reacted with shock.
"Of course not," he knelt before her, "My life is way too complicated to mate right now."
"Then what is she doing here?" She directed that question at Tyr.
Her tone of voice finally registered with Tamerlane. Beka was not pleased with his decision. His decision, not a decision made for him by The Alpha. So he broke in before Tyr could speak.
"She is here at my invitation."
Tamerlane tossed his locs behind him. He stood tall, with his hands on his hips. That was when Beka noticed the incipient beard. The boy was becoming a man. She waited sure that he had more to say. She stole a glance at Tyr who appeared about to speak. She silenced him with a withering look.
Tyr was seething. He was The Alpha. This was his bedroom. That was his son and his wife. Wife? The mother of his child, at least. Yet he was not permitted to speak. How dare they? Nearing combustion, he turned to his son and for the first time saw the man. Awkward and unpolished granted, but a man nonetheless. He turned his attention to Beka. With new eyes he saw tenderness and fear fighting for predominance. Learning to let go would be painful for them both. So he sheathed his anger and watched the exchange play out.
'En route to the Academy, father explained how he had come to cherish in a mate qualities that are not sought after by Nietzscheans."
Beka raised her eyebrow. Tyr was going to explain that one before he shared her bed again.
"He did suggest that participating in the competition might be awkward, but he left the choice to me."
Tamerlane grinned at his father with thanks. "Before we entered the arena, I had decided not to compete. But then when we sat down? Beka - the place was buzzing with excitement. The competitors were fellow cadets. Males I have bested in competitions at the Academy. And the females - Mother - every male in the room twitched in anticipation. Even me. The effect of that many ovulating females in one room was indescribable."
Tyr began to examine an invisible spot on the carpet. Only years of control and an obsession with one human female had contained his biological response. His son must have been overwhelmed.
"I get the picture. You followed your manhood into the ring."
Tamerlane slightly deflated by her cynicism continued. "I won my match, Mother. Admittedly, it was close, but as I lay there waiting for the coup de grace, I heard Father's words in my ear, 'Never surrender.'"
Beka smiled. Did he know that was his father's motto in battle and in bed?
"He displayed the tenacity of a warrior and the tactics of a general." Tyr said with pride.
"But you are just a boy." Exasperation coated the words of his mother.
"That is what I counted on, Mother. What female would choose a fifteen year old boy, who had won only one competition in his life?" Tamerlane shook his head. "It is unheard of!"
"Beka, you should have seen her. I admit that she reminded me of you, when we first met. Quaking with fear inside, all bravado on the outside. She held her head high, like the matriarch I expect she will become." Tyr chuckled at the memory of her audacity.
"She is older than me, Mother." Tamerlane felt he should get that out in the open.
"How much older?" Beka was beginning to suspect that the unexpected guest was an opportunist.
"Ten years," whispered her son.
"Where is the brazen hussy, now?" Tyr thought he could see the ice that surrounded each word.
"Right here, my Lady."
A family tableaux spread before Goneril. The Alpha's lady seated beside the fire, feet resting on the stool. The Alpha standing by her side, his arm stretched across the chair back. At her feet sat Tamerlane, the boy-man on whom she had set her hopes for the future. The Lady was angry. The Alpha stoic, his feelings buried deep inside. Tamerlane's face glowed with welcome. She gravitated to his charismatic warmth.
When she reached his side, she curtsied to The Alpha, as was proper and then to his Lady, in hopes of disarming her. Her Chosen took her elbow to assist her rise, putting a protective arm around her waist. She thrilled at his touch, but tried to hide it from the boy and his parents. Too much too soon. She heard the words of her grandmother repeating in her head.
"Mother, may I present Goneril, out of Alicia, by Dante, of the Kodiak Pride." Tamerlane took the hand of his guest and drew her toward the chair in which Beka sat.
Tyr watched in amazement as Beka transformed into a Nietzschean mother right before his eyes.
"Becoming the First Wife of an Alpha's son is every mother's dream for her daughter. But choosing a fifteen year old untried boy because the opportunity presented itself makes you appear rather needy, don't you think?" Beka said quietly.
"Your son declined my offer." Goneril reminded her adversary.
"Yet you are here." Beka countered.
"At my invitation, Mother." Tamerlane reminded her.
"If I am to work closely with Father, I will not be as available to Olma as I have been. Goneril has excellent DNA, but no connections. Her courage and imagination that she demonstrated this afternoon is worthy of the noblest of Nietzschean females. She needs a mentor, someone who can introduce her to all the right people. Someone who will teach her the role of a matriarch. Father thinks she is destined for the position. And I agree. Olma needs an interest. Goneril needs a mentor. I expect that at the end of the six months I have suggested she stays we will be celebrating her impregnation!"
"Do you promise to not to seduce my son as long as you are living under our roof?"
The mouths of Tyr and Tamerlane dropped open. Goneril showed no surprise at the request.
"You have my word, my Lady, that I will not seduce your son, while I am under your roof."
Beka felt she had made a bargain with the devil, a she-devil.
She had dressed to seduce. A shot silk in every hue of blue, with a gold belt draped about her waist. She had painted her nails and rearranged her hair. Soft wisps of artfully arranged strays framed her face. She was delicious and she was angry. He set aside thoughts of losing himself in her most intimate places. He could be sleeping in a bunk in the barracks with the palace guards if he did not find a way to appease her.
"Of all the testosterone driven idiocies in the universe, you had to let our fifteen-year old son enter a displaying competition?" She sputtered. "What were you thinking?" She slapped her forehead. "Tyr? What haven't you told me?"
If he had doubts, they were quashed. With that one question, she had proved that she knew him better than any being in the universe. He was about to answer her, when they were interrupted by a whirlwind of youth.
"Mother, did Dad tell you?" Tamerlane's gait was cocky, his countenance, joyous. His excitement blinded him to the chill in the air. "In the Progenitor's name, Mother, it was exciting. The crowd cheered. The females drooling over the arena fence. The air was thick with hormones." He plopped himself in the chair by the fireplace.
"Are you hurt?" Beka flinched when the words fell from her mouth. I sound like somebody's mother. Arghh! I am somebody's mother. She placed her hands on her abdomen.
Tyr jumped to her aid. "Get out of that chair, boy. Can't you see your mother is in distress?"
Tamerlane pulled himself back into the moment. One look at Beka and he leaped from the chair. "I'm sorry, Mother. I'm so sorry. Please sit down."
When her men were certain she was comfortable, Tamerlane fetched a stool for her feet and Tyr placed a pillow at her back. They backed away, to stand silently waiting for her bidding. She let them stew for a moment while she gathered her thoughts.
"Are you mated?" She directed the question to Tamerlane, who reacted with shock.
"Of course not," he knelt before her, "My life is way too complicated to mate right now."
"Then what is she doing here?" She directed that question at Tyr.
Her tone of voice finally registered with Tamerlane. Beka was not pleased with his decision. His decision, not a decision made for him by The Alpha. So he broke in before Tyr could speak.
"She is here at my invitation."
Tamerlane tossed his locs behind him. He stood tall, with his hands on his hips. That was when Beka noticed the incipient beard. The boy was becoming a man. She waited sure that he had more to say. She stole a glance at Tyr who appeared about to speak. She silenced him with a withering look.
Tyr was seething. He was The Alpha. This was his bedroom. That was his son and his wife. Wife? The mother of his child, at least. Yet he was not permitted to speak. How dare they? Nearing combustion, he turned to his son and for the first time saw the man. Awkward and unpolished granted, but a man nonetheless. He turned his attention to Beka. With new eyes he saw tenderness and fear fighting for predominance. Learning to let go would be painful for them both. So he sheathed his anger and watched the exchange play out.
'En route to the Academy, father explained how he had come to cherish in a mate qualities that are not sought after by Nietzscheans."
Beka raised her eyebrow. Tyr was going to explain that one before he shared her bed again.
"He did suggest that participating in the competition might be awkward, but he left the choice to me."
Tamerlane grinned at his father with thanks. "Before we entered the arena, I had decided not to compete. But then when we sat down? Beka - the place was buzzing with excitement. The competitors were fellow cadets. Males I have bested in competitions at the Academy. And the females - Mother - every male in the room twitched in anticipation. Even me. The effect of that many ovulating females in one room was indescribable."
Tyr began to examine an invisible spot on the carpet. Only years of control and an obsession with one human female had contained his biological response. His son must have been overwhelmed.
"I get the picture. You followed your manhood into the ring."
Tamerlane slightly deflated by her cynicism continued. "I won my match, Mother. Admittedly, it was close, but as I lay there waiting for the coup de grace, I heard Father's words in my ear, 'Never surrender.'"
Beka smiled. Did he know that was his father's motto in battle and in bed?
"He displayed the tenacity of a warrior and the tactics of a general." Tyr said with pride.
"But you are just a boy." Exasperation coated the words of his mother.
"That is what I counted on, Mother. What female would choose a fifteen year old boy, who had won only one competition in his life?" Tamerlane shook his head. "It is unheard of!"
"Beka, you should have seen her. I admit that she reminded me of you, when we first met. Quaking with fear inside, all bravado on the outside. She held her head high, like the matriarch I expect she will become." Tyr chuckled at the memory of her audacity.
"She is older than me, Mother." Tamerlane felt he should get that out in the open.
"How much older?" Beka was beginning to suspect that the unexpected guest was an opportunist.
"Ten years," whispered her son.
"Where is the brazen hussy, now?" Tyr thought he could see the ice that surrounded each word.
"Right here, my Lady."
A family tableaux spread before Goneril. The Alpha's lady seated beside the fire, feet resting on the stool. The Alpha standing by her side, his arm stretched across the chair back. At her feet sat Tamerlane, the boy-man on whom she had set her hopes for the future. The Lady was angry. The Alpha stoic, his feelings buried deep inside. Tamerlane's face glowed with welcome. She gravitated to his charismatic warmth.
When she reached his side, she curtsied to The Alpha, as was proper and then to his Lady, in hopes of disarming her. Her Chosen took her elbow to assist her rise, putting a protective arm around her waist. She thrilled at his touch, but tried to hide it from the boy and his parents. Too much too soon. She heard the words of her grandmother repeating in her head.
"Mother, may I present Goneril, out of Alicia, by Dante, of the Kodiak Pride." Tamerlane took the hand of his guest and drew her toward the chair in which Beka sat.
Tyr watched in amazement as Beka transformed into a Nietzschean mother right before his eyes.
"Becoming the First Wife of an Alpha's son is every mother's dream for her daughter. But choosing a fifteen year old untried boy because the opportunity presented itself makes you appear rather needy, don't you think?" Beka said quietly.
"Your son declined my offer." Goneril reminded her adversary.
"Yet you are here." Beka countered.
"At my invitation, Mother." Tamerlane reminded her.
"If I am to work closely with Father, I will not be as available to Olma as I have been. Goneril has excellent DNA, but no connections. Her courage and imagination that she demonstrated this afternoon is worthy of the noblest of Nietzschean females. She needs a mentor, someone who can introduce her to all the right people. Someone who will teach her the role of a matriarch. Father thinks she is destined for the position. And I agree. Olma needs an interest. Goneril needs a mentor. I expect that at the end of the six months I have suggested she stays we will be celebrating her impregnation!"
"Do you promise to not to seduce my son as long as you are living under our roof?"
The mouths of Tyr and Tamerlane dropped open. Goneril showed no surprise at the request.
"You have my word, my Lady, that I will not seduce your son, while I am under your roof."
Beka felt she had made a bargain with the devil, a she-devil.