Understand
Disclaimer: All characters and locations herein are the property of Tamora Pierce. Plot and actual written words owned by me.
The excitement in House Olau in Corus was almost unbearable. Servants and family members alike woke at dawn, whether to begin the preparations or just to fret. The Lioness was pacing the large house's corridors, scowling at anyone who passed her, while her father and husband shut themselves in the library without eating breakfast. Baroness Eleni personally surveyed work in kitchen until the cook was of a mind to cast the old lady out for her distrustfulness.
Everything was ready two hours before noon, the designated hour of arrival. The house was spotless, the dining hall was prepared and the night's feast was being prepared as the maids began to set out luncheon. Baron George had ridden out to the Royal University to personally fetch his oldest son. Squire Alan arrived of his own accord soon after his father's departure, his knight-master leaving him at the doorstep with orders not to return before next week.
At noon a startling silence of expectation fell over the house, in ominous contrast to the tumult that had besieged it all day. The family was sitting around the high table in the dining hall, waiting. Alanna's fingers tapped the polished wood until George took her hand to stop her, and they exchanged a meaningful look.
"She's late," complained Thom.
"Afraid of missing any more lessons?" jibed Alan. "Don't worry, we won't keep your from your studies long."
"Alan," warned Eleni softly.
"That's not it at all," objected Thom. "The entire household is enslaved to preparations, but Goddess forbid she bestir herself enough to arrive on time."
"Perhaps the ship docked late, or the roads from the Port Caynn were cluttered," offered Myles. "Her letter said she expected to be home by noon, but such expectations are dubious."
"Home," sighed Alanna. "I wish. Last I heard she was speaking of this arrival as a visit, saying she intended to make the Isles her permanent residence."
Alan shuddered involuntarily, and his mother clasped a hand to his shoulder.
"I know, Alan," she said. "Being so far from your twin cannot be easy. Frankly, I'm surprised she did not consider that aspect in her decision."
"I'm sure she did, my dear," said George. "Aly'd not make such a decision lightly."
Alan was not listening. His ears were alert to the faint sounds from the entrance hall, and even before the double-winged doors were flung open, he announced, "She's here."
The herald's proclamation was drowned by an excited shriek as Aly flung herself through the open doorway and raced to the table. She hugged everyone fiercely, beginning with her mother and ending with her twin. Once they let go of each other, Alan held his sister back and gazed at her critically.
"It's Copper Isles gear," she said, smoothing the fabric of her sarong, which was patterned in dazzling turquoise and yellow flowers.
"It's lovely," drawled Thom. "Can we please talk about something other than fashion, for once?"
Aly propped her fists on her hips. "Mithros, Thom, I've been away for months! Who else speaks of fashion in this family?"
"His new sweetheart burns his ear with it," said Alan, flashing his elder brother a vindictive smile.
"If we sit down to eat, we can catch you up on all the family news," suggested Eleni.
Aly nodded her agreement, and the family took their seats. All throughout the afternoon, they spoke of close and distant relations, and family friends. When dusk began to fall, candelabra were lit and other guests began to arrive. The dinner feast was an impressive feat for the kitchen staff, and Aly made several cryptic comments regarding black pepper and red sauce.
When the guests began to disperse, Thom left to return to the university. "I can't really afford to miss tonight's studying," he said.
"He means he can't afford to miss tonight's drinking," commented Alan quietly, for his sister's ears alone.
"Really?" replied Aly. "I thought Thom didn't know what ale was."
Alan shrugged. "I guess he found out."
They lingered in the hall after the rest of the family retired to their respective bedchambers.
"I've missed you," said Alan quietly.
"Come and show me to my room, then," suggested Aly.
He snorted. "Don't be silly, it's exactly where it was when you left. Unaltered, of course."
"I was wondering, you see," said Aly with a wicked smile.
Together they left the hall and wandered up two flights of broad stone steps, along the wide, well-lit third floor corridor. Tapestries hung on the walls between the candle sconces, and Aly lingered to stare at several of them. The last one, right near her chamber door, depicted a king and queen whose names escaped Aly at the moment, standing together hand in hand over the bodies of their foes.
"You used to be afraid of this one, when you were little."
"I remember."
She opened the door. The room was just as it had been; someone had taken care to let fresh air in without disturbing any of her possessions. She went in, he followed, and they sat across from each other at the table by her fireside. The hearth was cold; it was a warm June night, and no fire was necessary.
"Shall I light a fire?" he suggested.
She nodded, and half-watched him put a lit twig to the driftwood as it was caught up in the colorful blaze. As the fire took, she brought a bottle and two cups out of her cabinet, and poured out the reddish liquid for them both. Alan sat back down, watching her as she watched the licking flames, taking a tiny sip from his cup. She turned to him and took up her own drink.
"Do you really plan to go back?" he asked. "Forever?"
"I don't know," she answered. "It's something I'm… considering."
"Consider this," he said, placing his hand on her wrist. "Consider me. I can't come with you, not unless I forsake my squirehood."
"You'd do that?" She was shocked.
"And, once I am a knight… my time will belong to the realm."
She reached for his face, and he leaned toward her so she could touch his cheek. "Don't leave your squirehood; you deserve to earn your shield."
"Will you come here for my Ordeal," he asked, looking at the floor, "even if you do leave?"
"Of course I will!" she declared hotly. "Nothing could make me miss it."
He raised his hand to touch hers and it slid from his cheek down. When he stood she let her hand drop and rose to stand beside him. He drew her to him, hugging her close. She wrapped her arms around his neck. "I missed you," she said, tears brightening her eyes. "I missed you so much I could not bear to think of you."
"I never stopped thinking of you," he said, "not for a day."
"You always were stronger than me," she spoke with her face close to his, their breaths mingled.
They kissed, closer than they'd been in far too long.
In a library in the Royal University, across town, that kiss flickered and blurred in the scented water that filled a shallow bowl. A thin, long-fingered hand hovered over the bowl, and the image sharpened again. Calloused fingers ran down a darkly tanned neck, brushing a leather string, tugging it gently out of cover to reveal what it suspended.
The focus, the pinnacle, the crux. Eyes misted and lips quirked, at the idea of the stone that could make and break family bonds. The idea of the stone enabled so many things, a breaching of all boundaries that had existed hitherto, a redefining of relationships…
"Thom?" said an indistinct female voice, coming from the other side of the shut door.
"Don't come in! I'll be right out." Annoyed at the distraction, he turned back to the wavering image on the water's surface.
"Are you sure?" he said.
"Yes," she breathed softly, even as he slipped the cloth over her shoulders and let it slither to the floor.
He watched them unclothe each other with caresses before they drew each other down to the floor. He saw his skin glistening with sweat and heard her gasping mutedly into his neck. Sometimes he imagined he could almost taste the hot dampness of their kisses as the water in his bowl began to steam faintly. She groaned and raked his back, he scraped her thighs as they clasped around him. They both swallowed screams as they climaxed together.
With exacting care, he rubbed the charcoal signs on his desk clean, pinched the incense candles to snuff their light and drained away the rose-laced water from his scrying bowl. He then took his cloak and left the room with a curt word to the girl who waited for him outside his door, not forgetting to bolt it behind him.
The next morning, when the family was sitting to breakfast, both Alan and Aly lingered to arrive.
"They probably stayed up late, catching up," said Alanna.
George frowned. "I worry, sometimes, that they're too close."
"Don't," advised Alanna. "They're twins. Thom and I were like that, too. You wouldn't understand."