We're going to take a few steps back for the next few chapters. Important data and history (and secrets) coming, so read carefully!
A Most Important Family Dinner:
Four days before the Open Summer Court was to start, two Royal Summons were circulated with the morning deliveries; the Queen herself had written both without the foreknowledge of either Maid of the Desk or of the Pen that day, slipping them into the morning's outgoing basket and saying nothing to anyone of their presence there. Her trust in the discretion of her Maids was well-earned as both women saw the unmistakable pale blue envelopes, but said nothing and made no sign of surprise or concern. Summons from the Royal pen were rarities, often denoting some serious business that could not be addressed through normal channels or means. What made them all the more exceptional was the addressees of the pieces themselves: one going to Prince Adam, the other to Captain Teela.
Charleese was the Maid of The Desk that day, and saw to the delivery of each Summons herself, while Alyss had the duties of The Pen and so was the first to notice them. Both women were insightful as they were supremely discrete, and turned the possibilities behind the Summons over and over in their minds, letting not a word of it slip past their lips and – utterly without realizing it – perfectly mirrored the rampant speculation on the same subjects that every Maid, Clerk, Page, cook, cleaner, stable-hand, and other worthy that worked in the Palace partook of silently over the past several years.
It was common speculation among all the Palace staff and much of Eternos proper that there was some direct connection between the Prince and The Champion of Grayskull, though none had yet made the mental leap to thinking them one in the same. The constant badgering of the Captain against the Prince's behavior left many equally confused, with an unspoken consensus that Captain Teela was woefully unsuited for her position of bodyguard if she believed the Prince to be even a fraction of the invective she put upon him. And the supreme irony of all this silent speculation was that all were closer to the truth than they dared dream. It was just as well that none made the final connection on their own; such knowledge, however carefully guarded, was bound to some day slip out. It was still a hazardous time for Eternia, and revelations such that were to come could well prove the undoing of all things. Not that they could have known or even suspected as much, such things residing far beyond their collective encompass, and their concerns firmly placed in the here and now.
Not unlike the Prince and the Captain in that respect when each received their respective Summons. There were three directives written in the Queen's own handwriting, simple and unambiguous in their content:
First, the recipient was to dine with the King and Queen that very evening.
Second, the recipient was to present themselves to Their Majesty's private hall precisely as a specific span-tone after Six Bells.
Finally, the recipient was to say nothing to another soul of this directive.
The instructions put both the Prince and Captain's hackles on edge upon receiving them, the clinical tone of the instructions and the directive of silence leaving them each struggling to divine any intention behind them. This worried them mightily, enough that they nearly broke the third of the directives and asked the other for their thoughts. Curiosity and caution however won out; if it were some negative development that would impact upon their other half, each was confident they could disarm or at least divert whatever the issue was away from the other and attend it themselves; they'd spent many lifetimes guarding the other and this time would be no different.
It was well that with just days before the first arrivals for the Open Court, both the Prince and Captain of the Guard were in such high demand that their paths didn't cross that entire day, lest their respective wills or resolve falter in the sight of their other and better half.
Thus the Prince presented himself at the Royal Chambers upon the second tone past Six Bells, as specified, that evening. As no specification had been given on dress, occasion, or subject, Adam had elected to come in a minor variation of his preferred outfit: a white silk shirt with stiff collar and cuffs under a vest of dark violet velvet, with black trousers and his low-heeled boots. His still-weak right arm was now free of its splint, his hand stuck into the vest pocket so as to keep it out of the way. Cringer of course was with him, looking equally groomed and as ill-at-ease as ever. Adam did not immediately recognize the Royal Page who stood at attendance by the door, at least not by name. The man's handlebar mustache and flowing hair were both slate gray, matching his eyes perfectly in that way, were familiar enough to his memory that the Prince was satisfied no danger was present; it didn't hurt the many, many wards Teela had seeded throughtout the halls and thresholds of the Palace were likewise silent at his presence.
"Your Highness?" the Page greeted him, at once gravely and blandly.
"I am summoned by Her Majesty," Adam stated, matching his tone perfectly as he handed his Summons over.
"Indeed you are, Your Highness," the Page bowed at the waist, then turned slightly and worked the elaborate brass handle directly behind him, the latch within giving way almost instantly and the
chamber door opening sufficiently allow entrance.
The Prince said "My thanks, Sir." He returned the man's bow and marched forward with his great cat close on his heels, the door clicking shut behind him. The dinning room was immediately to his left as he entered his parent's chambers, which afforded him easy view to what awaited him.
Oddly, there were no butlers or servers in immediate evidence, although both his parents were already seated and waiting. Serving dishes, wine and water were laid out on the table and waiting to be partaken of, but other than his mother's glass being half-filled with wine, nothing had been touched nature of his summons. Apparently they'd been waiting on him.
Before he could open his mouth to offer greetings, Adam noticed that there were no less than four additional sets of plates and cutlery set out, although only three chairs accompanied these placements. The two placements-single chair was situated to his father's left, which by Court etiquette decreed it was to be occupied by those considered close to the Crown but not of actual title. The two placements-two chairs were consequently on his right hand, denoting they were for those of Royal lineage or close enough to such the lack of crown was irrelevant. Adam mentally scrolled through the list of possible guests for whom those places could be set, discarding whole swaths of the Nobility and courtiers in residence as none of them merited so casual a meal as this. The few dignitaries who might have passed muster for this were otherwise occupied with their own affairs – Adam and Teela had both made a point to be aware of their movements and schedules on a daily basis so to minimize potential surprises.
"Adam?" he heard his mother call out. "Are you alright?"
Adam restrained himself from shaking his head, a move that while instinctive would surely raise needless concerns and possibly even derail what was intended to be their last relaxing meal together before the Summer Court overtook them all. Rather he smiled and approached the table, bowing at the appropriate point and saying "Your Majesties, I come as summoned." He probably should have shaded the words with a bit more gravatis, but neither of his parents seemed to care. This was hardly the first time they'd dined under Royal Summons, so his seeming lack of decorum could hardly be seen as a genuine breach.
"We appreciate your diligence, Our Son," Randor intoned in that coolly stilted tone one employs only when attempting to contain laughter. "Pray, take your seat," he added, nodding directly towards the chair to his immediate right. "Cringer, your place is set at the Queen's right."
Both man and tiger moved to their designated seats, Adam pausing a moment before seating himself. "Should I await the other guests' arrival?" he asked, protocol in this respect holding sway.
"You should," the Queen nodded. "Cringer, however, should settle himself."
The Great Cat took this as his cue and settled back on his haunches, giving the assembled serving plates a careful look. Clearly Adam's parents had been planning on his presence as he saw nor smelled any of the handful of vegetables or spices he was specifically allergic to. Cringer wondered what to make of this, casting a subtle eye and nose towards both ends of the table. There was no missing the tension both parents were hiding right then, and equally neither were doing well at suppressing their amusement at...whatever it was that was amusing them right then. Cringer briefly considered trying to clue Adam into this, but decided against it; better to see what came next, and more importantly *who* came next before he did anything.
Just as well he took such precaution, as the front doors opened again to admit Duncan, who cast a careful, discerning eye across the room. Said gaze lingered an extra moment upon both the Prince and the arrangements upon the table; Adam had no doubt he was making the same calculations he himself had but minutes earlier.
The Man-At-Arms, who had exchanged his armor and bodysuit for his Dress Blues tunic and jodhpurs, both of which looked a mite tight upon him now.
He marched forward and bowed with suitable gravity. "Your Majesties," he intoned, pausing an extra
second before adding "Highness."
If either the King or Queen were even slightly troubled by this odd behavior by their old friend, neither digned to show it.
"Take your seat to the Queen's right, Commander." Duncan did as directed, which coincidentally put him directly across from Adam. Both men did their level best to look elsewhere *without* appearing to actually *look* elsewhere. Were this anywhere else, Marlena might well have laughed aloud at their unintended antics, certain as she was both were frantically attempting to work out who the fourth placement at the table was for. Judging by their mutually darkening expressions, they evidently had come to the same conclusion; not that either had much choice but to face the obvious, given the dictates of both protocol and tradition basically bled down the number of prospects to a single individual.
Before the Queen's all-too-fragile control was taxed further, the chamber doors opened a third time to
admit the last of the meal's attendees: Captain Teela, who wore her white Mess Dress Uniform complete with peaked cap and the handful of medals she'd earned over the years. It was no secret she considered the thing an eye-sore of the first order, not to mention being damned uncomfortable and decidedly impractical in design. Adam found himself grinning for a moment at the thought of what she had came to consider a 'practical' uniform over the years, only to sober immediately at the thought of what Duncan would make of such thoughts. His right arm was still smarting from the abuse he'd endured during their latest therapy session. He clearly hadn't forgotten whatever it was Teela had imparted to him the week previous – she'd been oddly reticent on that, refusing point-blank to even hint at what she'd told her father that set him off so – and was still holding it against the Prince with a none-too-subtle zeal.
"Your Majesties," Teela nodded to the her Sovereigns first, then addressed the rest, giving each a short nod of acknowledgment. "You Highness, Father, Cringer."
Both Randor and Marlena nodded and rose in acknowledgment, which in turn led to Adam and Duncan each raising an eye-brow of his own; the King and Queen never rose to greet guests unless it was someone of equal rank or other some esteemed visitor. That they were doing so for Teela was, well, *unprecedented* was the first word to come to mind. Clearly Teela was no less thrown by their action, as she hesitated a beat before advancing; for her, that the equivalent of shock-induced paralysis. The Prince sympathized, given the implications of where she was clearly supposed to sit hit him square between the eyes.
"Adam," Randor said to him, shaking him out of his distraction. "Pray, sit your wife in her proper seat so we can begin."
Adam and Teela did as bade, their movements entirely mechanical and purely automatic; the King could not have left them more insensate if he'd clouted them both over the head with a flail.
Once Teela was seated, Randor nodded to his left and a trio of servers appeared from the shadows. "We'll begin. Both Man-at-Arms and myself will have the Bolermon with our meal. The Prince and his Captain shall have the Niceran with theirs."
"And the Queen, Sire?" asked the wine server.
"The Queen will share the Niceran," Marlena declared coolly. The server took the directive without batting an eye and filled the appropriate glasses with the designated vintages.
Adam's thoughts took on speed as he attempted to work out the purposes to this affair, and the choice of wines was often a critical clue in that respect. The Bolermon was a dark vintage, good at calming nerves to the point the drinker would be left quite sedate (if not just short of completely incapacitated). There had been days just before their shared journey that he'd been near despair from the competing and crushing pressures upon him – Teela herself figuring prominently in those – that he had resorted to sedating himself with full bottles of that particular vintage lest he do something foolish and terminal. Doubtless if Teela had known any of this, the results would've been...unpleasant.
Needless to say this wasn't a wine one used for a casual dinner, and Adam found himself bracing against whatever it was his parents were building towards.
Whatever it was, neither King nor Queen seemed in a hurry to broach it. They remained quiet as the dishes were doled out it in the requisite portions unto their plates, the guests all waiting a sign from the Queen when to begin.
"Dear?" Randor saw fit to prompt after nearly a minute of the Queen simply sitting there, a beneficent, almost wistful smile on her face.
"Just enjoying having our family at table for once." There was something to her tone that set Teela's hackles on edge, but she carefully schooled her features to silence and raised her glass in time with Adam and the others. Even Cringer joined in, taking his simple cup of water (complete with a curved straw) up in both paws and raising it.
The Queen's toast was simple and to the point: "Family." This was echoed by all those present, not all in time and not all with equal enthusiasm. If the Queen was disappointed in this reaction, she didn't let it show as she turned her attention to the meal laid before them. The rest too their cue and likewise picked up their own utensils to start.
Thereafter, the mood at the table seemed to hover between mild anxiety, ill-shrouded curiosity, and borderline dread. Likely only the Bolermon, as intended, kept the temperature of the room milder than it otherwise might have become; Duncan's continually throwing blatantly hostile looks in Adam's direction (which the Prince politely ignored), while Teela's eyes kept roaming the room as if seeking something hidden. Randor and Marlena didn't exactly help matters, both electing to keep silent throughout the meal and consequently leading the others to stew in their respective metaphorical juices for nearly a full Bell. Small talk over innane and innocuous things that might've diffused this tension was not even attempted by any of the participants; it wasn't so much forbidden by either the King or Queen as much as silently dissuaded. Apparently they were nursing some serious tensions as well, given the King had his glass refilled twice and the Queen's took four.
This was not missed by the rest of the dinner party, and the three human guests were in decidedly terrible shape by the time the deserts tray was unveiled. Poor Cringer probably caught the worst of it, his senses both the sharpest and most discerning the assembled, and he could tell just how raw Adam and Teela's nerves actually were beneath the calm facades they were wearing. Man-at-Arms wasn't any better to the cat's eyes and nose; the poor elder was ready to either scream his lungs out or start weeping like a cub with a splinter in his paw. It wasn't hard to understand why either, given his own sense of discombobulation when it came to his charge and charge's mate. At least she'd sent her friend off somewhere where it would be out from underfoot. He didn't think twice about slurping from the saucer of thick cream that was placed before him as dessert; everyone else was preoccupied with their own treats – not one of whom could've confirmed what they were actually tasting – to comment.
Then, once the plates were taken away and the cafful cups filled, only then did the Queen decide to put them out of their collective misery by speaking. "Now then," she began, her words ever so slightly slurred for the wine she'd drunk. "Time for serious business, yes?" She looked across the table to Randor, who was swaying slightly himself as he cast a hooded gaze over the others, exchanging only the most momentary glance with his wife and Queen before focusing upon Adam and Teela directly.
"Adam, Teela, its time."
"Time for what, Father?"
It was Marlena spoke next, who downed the remainder of her wine before saying "Time for you to tell us about our grandchildren."
The silence that followed was as profound as it was absolute. How long it lingered would be a matter of debate among those present, were they ever inclined to wonder about such things. In truth, the next words from the Prince and Captain, however long it had taken for them to rally themselves, drove any such thoughts from their parent's minds for all their remaining years.
It was Teela who dared to speak first, asking "Um, where do you wish us to start?"
A practical question, and one that left the three parents quite dumbfounded for another span. Randor ultimately shook himself from lethargy and suggested "Well, for a start...how many are we talking about?"
"Six..." Adam started, only for Teela to interject.
"Eight. He means eight."
Adam gave himself a visible shake and nodded. "Aye. Eight, being six of the womb and two by rite." Marlena frowned hard at this and opened her mouth to ask for clarification at the last bit.
"He means adoption, Your Majesty," Teela stated.
"That's what I said," Adam put in, immediately catching himself. "Ah."
"Yes, 'ah'," Teela affirmed. "You always warned idiom was the worst danger."
Adam opened his mouth to say more, but thought better of it. Rather he addressed his parent and stated "We had eight children of our own, by both birth and adoption."
"I belive you stated that you saw grandchildren as well," Duncan put it, his calm manner solely thanks to the strong spirits he and Randor had taken so liberally.
Adam and Teela both nodded. "We did." Whether because their nerves expired as one, or because they were both at a loss on how to proceed, they let it lay there.
Thankfully for them all Marlena was both sufficiently clear-headed and bull-headed enough to broach the issue further. "Names," she ordered, voice thick with the ancient authority that was the birthright of all mothers. "In order and in context," she added.
This was enough to prompt the Prince and Captain to speak. "Our first were Artemis and Apollo..."
"Twins we conceived..."
"Over four years after our first awaking in..."
"We called it 'Aetheria', and the name just...stuck..."
"Fine, fine," Marlena interjected testily. "But whose idea was it to name them so? I mean, those aren't what I'd call 'common' Eternian names."
"So..." Randor drew out, surprisingly reluctant to broach the episode further. "Nyssa was conceived upon your...reunion?"
Both Adam and Teela nodded. "Yes. We were...well..."
"Adam's injuries were such that death was still a danger." Teela paused as a silent shudder passed through her, Adam's hand finding her's under the table. "We didn't speak of it, and the twins were too...anxious...around him...so we...I..."
"We," Adam forcefully put in. "We felt, as one, that they and Teela would need someone besides to focus upon should I...well..." An odd look passed between Adam and Teela then, one that embraced both wry comedy and bitter realization.
Again, it was Marlena salvaged the conversation. "So you decided to name my second granddaughter after one of the most...notorious...courtesans in Eternian history? A woman who, if stories are to be believed, held even young Grayskull in her thrall?"
"She wasn't *that* bad..." Adam started, only to stop himself, clearly uncertain if he was referring to his offspring or her namesake. Teela herself glowered but offered nothing more.
Truth be told, she didn't dare. Even there and then, Nyssa commanded their attention, and their unconscious obedience to not speak of certain things.
"'Huru'?" Randor asked after a minute's silence. " You named the boy...'Huru'."
"I did, yes," Teela confirmed, giving Adam a small, wry smile. "Adam wisely did not argue."
"You didn't exactly give me the chance to, Tee." Adam's protest was answered by a knowing snicker from both Teela and, surprisingly, Cringer.
"Don't feel badly, Adam," Randor offered. "When you a..." A rough-sounding cough issued from Duncan, interrupting his friend and sovereign.
"Apologies," he sniffed, giving his chest a thump and his Queen a sharp look. "I've not indulged the Bolermon like this in some seasons."
"Hmph," Marlena growled dangerously. "Serves you right then for doing so now."
"You were saying, Father?" Adam prompted, still lightly puzzled at this uncharacteristic interplay but equally quick to refocus on the immediate.
"Your name," Randor began again. "Well, 'Adam' is entirely...outside...Eternian lineage. Yet your mother decided from the start that would be your name, and pity the many fools who tried to dissuade her on this."
"What if I'd been a girl?" Adam snickered, his parents and Duncan all joining in his hilarity after an extra moment. Teela simply cast a thoughtful look upon her husband, something the Queen immediately picked up on.
"Something worrying you, Teela?"
"Nothing immediate, Mianthri," the Captain stated serenely. "Merely...remembering..."
"Teela," Adam growled. "Don't you dare!"
Teela's expression and words were purest innocence. "Dare what, Your Highness?"
"You bloody well know what!"
"Surely you don't mean that thing we agreed never to speak of."
"Teela..."
The Captain gave a politely embarrassed smile to the others and said "Please pardon him, Father, Your Majesties. He is simply remembering an unfortunate mishap involving a charmed tomb we were sheltering in...and a heavily pregnant mule we were sheltering with at the time."
Adam fairly quailed under the resultant scrutiny.
"And how then did Marr take to riding?" Duncan asked.
"Far better than I did, truth be told," Adam admitted tiredly. "The girl was ever a wayfarrer, even moreso than we were upon our waking."
"She took the Captaincy of Adam's band with so little effort..." Teela began, then stopped, giving Marlena a close look. "You would think her your own twin, Majesty, in both flesh and soul."
Marlena found herself speechless to this, and so settled for taking another sizable gulp of her wine.
"'Ty'ryes'?" From Randor's tongue, it came out as 'Tie-rise'. "Is that how it is said?"
"Close enough," Adam allowed, privately unsatisfied but too weary endure more. Teela looked little better, which for her meant her stamina was long exhausted.
Sadly, Randor's curiosity was still quite alive. "Does that mean something in particular or..."
"In our adopted tongue, it translates to 'She of the Seas'," Adam stated quietly.
"It was only her first name, mind," Teela added. "We had adopted a custom of giving children a 'first' name, then a chosen one they would carry to their pyre."
"I hesitate to ask what her later name was."
"Well, early on the others all called her 'Hurptaar'," Teela said with a small frown.
"Sounds fierce," Duncan observed, which caused Adam, followed by Teela, to grin ever so slightly.
Adam explained "Its a winged bird-of-prey who hunts by night and whose eyes shine by moonlight."
"Do these hurptaars...have a small beak and flat face?" Marlena asked suddenly.
"Aye," Teela nodded. "Their feathers are crested in a way to make it look as if their faces are hidden under a cowl." She speared the Queen with a discerning look. "You've seen similar?"
Marlena nodded readily. "On Earth we call them 'Owls'. Some myths and popular fiction made them out to be magickal animals or familiars."
"The most magickal thing about hurptaars was how often they'd snatch freshly-killed game from our hunters and rangers," Adam sneered. "Ty'ryes was no scavenger."
Duncan asked "The why did her siblings name her so?"
"Because," Teela started, paused, then huffed a long-suffering breath. Her hand applied a death-grip upon Adam's, and his upon her's. "Because she would move silently amid all things and places, yet she could silence a tummult with but a gesture." She closed her eyes and envisioned her youngest direct offspring, the succession of images more than her heart could endure. Adam knew this of her, and took up the narrative.
"Had Mar not already taken already taken the Captaincy, it would surely have fallen to her. Just as well, as it would have been a poor fit for her."
"Why so?" was Randor's question.
"She, even moreso than Marr, was a wayfarrer. Never content to stand in one place nor undertake a single thing."
"I am tormented by an everlasting itch for distant shores. I long to sail forbidden seas." The Queen's oddly-lyrical words were spoken quietly, more in afterthought.
Adam and Teela both nodded to the words. "Melville might as well have been speaking of her directly," Teela agreed. She more than Adam had absorbed the literature records that had been salvaged from Marlena's ship, and 'Moby Dick' had for some reason been a particular favorite.
"She took to the sea?" Randor inquired carefully. "Her name suggests so."
Adam nodded, albeit absently. "She did. 'Tis just as well she came to us after we'd ceased our endless wanderings and settled ourselves at the shores of a great sea that drained to a still greater ocean."
"She set sail one morn and never returned to us," Teela recounted. "She would send us word through the merchants she directed, and through the allies she made and swore to us..."
"But she herself never came home," Marlena finished quietly, a knowing tone behind the words that Teela alone perceived. She schooled her features and willed herself to not react, sensing this to be neither the time nor place to question it.
Rather, she stated "The sea was her home, not our castle nor the land. And no, 'Mianthri', she did return...once."
When Teela's voice faded, Adam spoke up. "Her children brought her...home...to lie alongside her siblings." He gave himself a hard shake, followed by favoring his parents with a wane if sincere smile. "Her children, nine in all, brought her to us for burial, each a captain in their own right."
He let that hang in the air for a time, time that he and Teela sorely needed now. Thankfully, their parents (and Cringer) were in equal need for such relief, and kept quiet for a lengthy span. Cringer took the initiative and ambled around the table – taking a moment to give the Queen's tight-clenched hand a short lick of comfort – to settle himself between the Prince and Captain, giving them both a sub-vocal purr of invitation. Pleasingly both too the hint and took turns scratching the Great Cat's ears and neck. It helped lighten the mood at the table, his Charge and Charge's Mate in particular.
Moments like this led the tiger to think that perhaps, just perhaps, the First Mother hadn't made an error in directing him there.
"So you began with twins, and you ended by adopting twins?" Duncan puzzled aloud. "You were surely, what, sixty seasons long by then."
"Seasons lived did not leave us old in that sense, Father," Teela stated. "Time moved...moved oddly in Aetheria, and yes, times were that only Adam's gray beard reminded us how long our lives truly were."
"And even that was a bit of a..." Adam began, only to stop and think. "Actually, our ages never felt...'real' to our bodies. I sometimes wondered if my hair grayed and my joints ached only because I thought they should do so." dHe threw a small grin towards his wife. "You, on the other hand, were always ageless, my love."
"Only on the outside, I assure you," Teela rejoined with her own grin. "And purely out of self-defense, lest Nyssa realize how thoroughly she ruled the roost."
"She worshiped the ground you walked on," Adam chided with a hint of genuine disbelief.
"You confuse me with yourself," was Teela's polite and absolute correction. "You were her rising and setting suns, whereas I was the greatest impediment to her will being done."
Unseen by the bickering pair, their parents shared a mutual look of wry amusement and understanding, this exchanging relating much, much more than either of the participants likely could comprehend. It was a bittersweet understanding, true, for their third-eldest grandchild sounded as the like that legends were born of. That they would never meet her, at least on that side of the eternal veil, made that realization give each a pang to their chests.
To cover this, for surely two as discerning as Adam and Teela would see such things once they finished tearing themselves apart over Nyssa's obvious devotion, Marlena cleared her throat with the rudest force and demanded "The twins names, if you please?"
"Eh...?" Adam turned to look at his mother, needing a moment to return to the here-and-now.
Teela was slightly quicker off the mark. "The hatchlings were name Ulry and Ch'rii. They were..."
"Wait, wait," Duncan put forth. "'Hatchlings'?"
"Yes, Father. Orphans of the Naan'Keetah."
"Who were...what, exactly?" Randor asked, his calm diffusing whatever anger burned in Teela's voice and eyes.
"The Naan'Keetah were a people of the great mountain ranges to the south of our borders. They were distant kin to the Avan-Tuk who vowed themselves to me."
"'Avan-Tuk'?" Duncan echoed. "They were the 'Scaled Horde' you'd mentioned?"
"Aye," Teela nodded. "The two peoples shared a common ancestor, but all similarities were but skin-deep."
Adam took up explanations when it was clear Teela's agitation was building. "Ulry and Ch'rii were warm-blooded and had functional wings upon their backs, whereas Teela's horde were cold-blooded and inhabitants of the desert. Thankfully there were no tensions between the twins and horde." He paused and rubbed his chin. "At least, I never saw any. Teela?"
"Hmm?"
"They dogged your steps more than mine. Were they ever accepted amongst the Avans?"
Teela frowned slightly, the way one does when something sour touches the tongue. "Acceptance was never an issue. If anything, Mother spare us, they were held in awe by all the Horde."
"It was the wings, wasn't it?"
"Neh, hardly! It was the fact they could walk about in the snows without collapsing. I heard them whisper-named them Muk'un'sohon."
Adam blinked and flinched. "The Night Daggers?! Those...demons were possibly the only thing – Nyssa notwithstanding – the Avans actively feared."
"No, no. Those were the Maak'uk'suun. The twins were the Nights Untouched." Teela scowled in that unique way that wives have when they prepare to evicerate the fool they had married. "Do you think I would tolerate such disrespect of our youngest, especially amongst those who were soul-pledged?"
"You might," Adam allowed. "If you thought some humbling was in order. Certainly you never hesitated to cut Huru or Marr or even Tye down when they overstepped."
"Purely out of self-defense," Teela insisted. "Nyssa constantly taxed my wits to where I had nothing left to defend against her younger minions! And you, dearest, were of no help there!"
"Hmm," Adam hummed, as if trying to dream up some defense that didn't sound purely self-serving or cripplingly puerile. "You have a point there," he ultimately allowed, the self-deprecating humor to the words sounding a mite calculated. "I admit to be...preoccupied attempting to calm the Twins whenever we were in the same room. I could always feel Artemis's eyes upon my neck, and Apollo? Heh, I often wondered if that knife he held secreted in his sleeve wasn't bound for throat."
"Bah!" Teela snarled. "Again you mistake vigilance for vengeance. The twins could not more raise a finger, never mind a true blade, against you than would the rest. They mastered the bow and held themselves aloft solely so they could watch all who approached you." Teela regarded the Prince, her husband of uncounted seasons, expression one of not so mild surprise. "You never saw this?"
"I knew only their mastery of the bow surpassed all others in the world, and that only the sternest word from you would have them stand at my side." Adam shrugged in that way fathers do to cover their shame at realizing how little they understood their children's actions. Randor wondered how often he'd made the same shrug in the last turn of the moons since that moment of revelation in the Infirmary, soul-certain any number he cared to guess would be an undercount.
"Fool!" Teela ground out, truly raising her voice for the first time that night. She stood, feet slightly unsteady (which for her meant her brain was well and truly afloat in wine), and landed and strong blow upon his left shoulder. Another followed, then another, each punctuating her words.
"Blind...stupid...old...senile...FOOL!"
Adam weathered her onslaught, awaiting a moment when her blows lost their sharp edge, then bolted to his feet and and threw his good arm about her, pinning one arms and giving the other little room to maneuver. "Aye, I am all that," he allowed. "Why else why would you have bothered with me for so long?"
Teela's free arm flailed about to slap the side of his head. "Damn you!" was the curse she spat into his shoulder. "Damn you," was repeated, her shoulders visibly shaking now, not from rage, but mirthful laughter.
"Damnation," Adam rejoined, laughing as well. "Nyssa would be...so...very...embarrassed by us now."
"Embarrassed?" Teela hiccuped. "She'd be livid with the both of us, Mother wyrm save us! The Scaled Horde would have deserted the palace and your brothers..."
"Would have raced them for the gates!" Adam confirmed. "Wise of them, I would say."
"Aye," Teela nodded, hilarity gone for a moment as she frowned. "We should guard the shadows now."
"Tee, surely you don't think..."
"If we have returned and Friend followed us here, do you think her curses would have any trouble?" The sincerity in her voice was conviction incarnate, laying a blanket of silence within the room and causing all others to cast nervous glances this way and that.
A single chuckle from Adam dispelled all that. "She cursed at us, Tee. Never upon us."
Teela frowned for a moment as if searching her memory. "Ah, yes, true. What are we worried about then?" Her smile easily lit the room, causing an audible sigh of relief among their parents.
Marlena cleared her throat. "I take it Nyssa was of...strong opinions about how her parents were to behave?"
"There was a time her word held sway over all the land," Adam acknowledged as he sat Teela and himself back to their chairs. "But she ruled always from behind, never at the front, and rarely spoke outside our home."
Teela gave Marlena a careful look. "I credit you, Majesty, with teaching Adam this skill so well he imparted it without knowing it." All eyes were upon her as she took a final sip from her wine. "What?" was her question to her husband. "Surely you noticed this?" Adam shook his head and frowned hard, Teela merely snorting in response. "Fool."
"Yes, well," Randor noisily stood, the knuckles of both clenched fists pressing upon the table as he leaned forward. "I think we have heard enough for one night. I certainly have." He threw a glare at Marlena and a meaningful look at Duncan, daring either to say him nay.
Marlena likewise stood, clearly with some difficulty, and addressed the King. "Randor, assist me to our bed please. The rest of you will have to see yourselves out. Pray forgive my..."
"'Mianthri'," Teela growled. "Remember my sanction."
"I was going to say forgive my poor manners and not see any of you to the door," Marlena carefully ennuciated. "I am rather drunk right now and would likely fall on my face were I to attempt to follow poser protocol right now. While I'm sure you, O Niechul, would delight in my richly deserved humbling...I...I...um...where was I going with this?" Marlena shook her head and frowned at Randor. "Did I have a point?"
"Dismissing everyone without seeing them to the door...I think," the clearly tipsy-and-tipping-over monarch stated for his wife's edification.
"Yes, yes!" Marlena nodded sharply. "I bid you all good night and...and...oh, get to bed the lot of you and don't complain to me in the morning." A single tottering step was all it took to have Randor at her side, a steadying arm about her middle and carefully measured steps guiding her out of sight.
Duncan was the next to quit the room, giving his Prince and his daughter a sharp nod and marching to the front door as if in parade review. He would be damned to the Forbidden Zone afore he embarrassed his daughter and her husband by breaking down to the tears he fought to hide. A loosing battle, to be sure, but a line he nonetheless managed to hold until he reached his own rooms. No other (save the stars that peeked through the drawn curtains, and the great eagle that had perched unseen upon his balcony railing) would be witness to how he would collapse with his back to the door, then slide to the floor and draw his knees up to forehead.
Huddled like this, Duncan M'Straahl would shake and weep for some time, riding a storm of both joy and sadness at the wonders he'd been privy to that night.
And what of the Prince and the Captain? They left the Royal Chambers under their own steam at a slow, leisurely pace. The Prince, daring greatly, took the Captain's arm into his and strolled down the corridor, his feline companion keeping a discrete distance behind them. They appeared to any who might have caught sight of them as a simple couple returning from a very late dinner where nothing of significance was said or exchanged. Whatever slight unsteadiness there was to their gait could and would be attributed to the late hour and simple fatigue.
Because the Captain led them subtly on a somewhat circulous route from the Sovereign's chambers to those they called their own, they came to the Captain's door first, where – to the obvious if momentarily surprise of her escort – she disengaged her arm from his and intoned "My thanks for seeing me to my room, Your Highness."
"Shall we spar in the morning?" asked the Prince, covering his surprise quickly with an improvised whimsy.
Teela's lips quirked half-a-grin in reply, then turned and disengaged the lock on her door, slipping inside with all the deft deliberateness of knowing prey escaping a clumsy predator.
Prince Adam found himself smiling widely as he ambled the few steps down to his own door, opening and closing it without thought or pause. Cringer read his charge's mood clearly, sneaking past him and taking up his usual nighttime position at the foot of the bed, knowing full well Adam's preoccupations left him unawares of all other presences. Cringer purred a quiet thanks to the Great Mother that whatever had snatched him away had had the good sense to take his charge's mate as well; the boy was older than his years, yes, but there was equally no denying he was positively useless at guarding or caring for himself!
Cringer settled himself near the bed and closed his eyes, ears and nose confirming his charge did no more than shed his clothes and settle himself to bed. Only when Adam's breathing evened out and slowed with true sleed did the Great Cat allow his own mind to rest, and his soul travel to those places the great mother would will it go.
tbc...