Chapter 2: A Meeting of Rulers – Pt. 2.

By the gods, was this bloody place entirely made up of stairs?

Jasson of Conté, current King of Tortall and the Conqueror feared by many, cursed under his breath as he climbed what to him seemed like the umpteenth staircase. For good measure, he cursed the servant who had conveyed the queen's agreement to meet with him. Had the servant woman not looked at him with barely disguised terror, and had it not been for his current mood (which was a mix of impatience and the residuals of adrenaline from the previous day's skirmish), Jasson would have tried to reassure the silly female enough for her to show him to her queen. Instead, he had growled at her and ordered that she stop her quivering and give him the blasted directions, that he would find her majesty by himself.

Being the legendary Conqueror that he was, Jasson was a brilliant strategist who possessed a particularly keen mind. He was also extraordinarily observant, and during the short ride from the palace gates to the entrance of the Great Hall, he had immediately deduced that the palace – a bronze-trimmed white marble masterpiece of elegant turrets and graceful spires that seemed to surge right out of the very mountains it stood before – was as much a rat's maze as his own back in Corus was. As such, he should have realised that finding his way around the unfamiliar palace using directions from a terrified servant wasn't the best of plans.

He should have also realised sooner that he did have a voice and could in fact simply ask another servant to show him the way. Entering yet another corridor gilded here and there with bronze and spotting a servant boy approaching from the opposite direction, Jasson barked out, "You there! Take me to the Dome Garden. Your queen is waiting to see me."

The red-headed and freckled boy stopped, looked behind him then to either side, approached him cautiously, and asked, "Were you talking to me, my lord?" Jasson fought the urge to roll his eyes. Was the boy daft? Of course he was talking to him! Save for the two of them, the corridor was empty, and from what Jasson had seen, it wasn't as if the rest of the palace was a bustling beehive of activity either.

Making an effort to be slightly less fearsome, Jasson removed the bite from his voice and tried again, "Yes, indeed. Your queen is expecting me, and I'm… not too sure where the Dome Garden is. Do you know where it is? Will you take me there?"

To Jasson's incredulity, the servant boy boldly stared at him, trying to determine whether the foreign giant posed a threat to his queen. Apparently, the boy was under the mistaken impression that he was the twenty-five year old man and Jasson the ten-year old lad.

Gritting his teeth, Jasson ground out, "I am the King of Tortall. I have matters of state I need to discuss with her majesty."

At last, the boy gave a nod, briskly walked past him and started back down the stairs Jasson had just climbed. A bit pertly, the boy called out, "Come on, it's this way. By the way, the name's Kavin"

As Jasson walked somewhat resignedly alongside Kavin, he couldn't help but note four things. One: that the walls themselves seemed to emanate both tiredness and a restlessness. Two: that the interior of the palace was worn, even though he could see it had been magnificent and resplendent once. Three: that there seemed to be a lot of plant-life inside, ranging from small pots of wild plants growing on top of a grand fireplace to a flowering vine that had crawled through one of the palace windows and wrapped itself around a statue. And four: that there didn't seem to be anyone other than servants in residence, which seemed strange, since it was the third week of spring and the corridors should have been teeming with power-hungry nobles – or with plain hungry nobles, since the noon bell had only just tolled.

Busy with his observations, he almost ran over his guide when Kavin abruptly stopped at an arched gateway hung with some sort of gauzy green material. Scowling, the boy told him, "Wait here. I'm going to announce you first." In a flash, he disappeared through the gauze. It wasn't long before Jasson heard Kavin's voice, brightened now by an enthusiasm not present before, say, "Your majesty! Guess who I found for you? Go on, guess!"

Bristling at the term 'found', Jasson snarled silently, but then to his surprise, he heard a voice that was melodically feminine say, "Oh? Did you find me something, Kav? Hmm… let me guess. Was it a mad polka-dotted bull? Perhaps a dangerous and smelly ogre? Wait a second; don't tell me you found my mad great-uncle Rhemus?"

Boyish laughter mingled with the queen's own. Jasson frowned. He had assumed that the Barzi queen was a woman of matronly years, but the dulcet laughter he'd just heard sounded much too young to support that assumption! Curious, Jasson slipped stealthily through the gauze, careful to remain in the shadow cast by a couple of nearby columns.

Though Jasson was decidedly uninterested in horticulture, even he had to admit that the queen's garden was amazing. The Dome Garden, so named for the beautifully panelled glass dome that stood in place of a regular ceiling, was a lush paradise of medium size – no more than seventy feet from the entrance to the balcony. It was filled with ferns and other verdant vegetation, the supporting columns wrapped tightly by dark green and gold vines. Flowers of virtually every colour were rampant, growing wherever they could, while a large hexagonally-shaped fountain gurgled serenely in the middle of the garden. All in all, the lushness of the queen's apparent inner sanctum was a bold contrast to the dried and rocky landscape he recalled riding through early this morning.

"Well, if you didn't find that bull, the ogre or my poor uncle, who did you find for me?" At the queen's voice, Jasson scanned the garden, looking for Kavin and the queen herself. When he finally found the two, he couldn't help but stare in simple appreciation. Gods, she was lovely!

The Barzi queen stood in front of the grand balcony, leaning against the balustrade as she jested with Kavin, with whom she seemed to have some sort of friendship with. Though Jasson still stood (more or less) at the entrance to the garden, he could see that her face was gracefully formed and held an elusive sweetness that was rare. Still amused by Kavin's exuberant entrance, the queen's vivid green eyes were alive with laughter, her lips curved in the most enchanting of smiles. Her hair was the colour of rich mahogany and it, along with the deep russet of her simple gown, emphasised the ivory of her skin. One delicate hand played with a pendant hanging from her slim neck as she waited for Kavin to remember who it was he had to announce.

Deciding that the impertinent boy's wits had become addled by the queen's loveliness, Jasson cleared his voice and moved forward, his stride purposeful. He ignored the fierce glare Kavin aimed his way (the servant boy indignant that the foreigner had ruined his chance to impress Amayrha!), focused only on the young queen. As he came closer, Jasson ruefully noticed that a guarded and shadowed look had come to replace the laughter in her eyes. No doubt she had already pieced together who he was and the reason for the meeting.

Pausing less than five feet before her, Jasson gave a slight bow, straightened, and announced with supreme confidence, "Kavin 'found' me, your majesty. Jasson of Conte, King of Tortall." Casually, he added, "You've got a nice garden."

Laying a soothing hand on the shoulder of the still glowering Kavin, Amayrha couldn't help but feel a little incredulous at the Conqueror's off-hand comment. After weeks of grimly preparing herself for this meeting, had the Tortallan giant truly complimented her garden?

Noting the slight smirk on the Tortallan king's face, Amayrha scowled and immediately lifted her eyes to his, determined that he not unsettle her further.

However, upon doing so, whatever disbelief she felt at Jasson's words was nothing compared to the shock that ran through her body at the very unexpected realisation triggered by the colour of his eyes. Such a startling sapphire blue…

Stock-still, Amayrha mentally traced over Jasson's features, noting the strong jaw and proud nose, and pausing at the area to the left of his mouth, sure that if he were to laugh now, she would see a slight dimple there at once. A memory from a time long ago reminded her that he had hated that dimple, complaining that it detracted from his manliness.

Slightly unnerved by her stare, Jasson ran a hand through his thick black hair that he wore a bit longer than convention approved, hoping that the Barzi queen wouldn't be as skittish as her servant woman had been. His movement caused her eyes to once more lock with his.

Kavin stood between the two, no longer glowering but hugely curious instead. He held his breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

When one hand once again rose to clutch at her pendant, a dazed Amayrha took a deep breath, and wonderingly said, "Jace? Is that really you?"

Jasson frowned, baffled at the shortened use of his name since no-one had called him 'Jace' for years, not even his closest friends or family. Mithros, he had only just met the Barzi queen, and he was already feeling more confused than ever!

A wind from the city breathed through the garden, causing several of Amayrha's richly coloured curls to fall into her face. Distractedly, she pushed them aside, inanely wishing she had braided her hair instead of letting it fall freely that day.

It was the brief flash of exasperation in her eyes that did it for Jasson, which made him suddenly understand. As a heavy feeling settled in his stomach, he grimly made a mental vow to replace his current spymaster for not being able to collect the intelligence that would have prepared him better for this meeting – for her. "Gods damn it, Myra?"

And as Kavin looked from one to the other, wondering who 'Jace' and 'Myra' were, the two rulers were flooded by memories.

Memories full of the innocence and bright laughter of youth – and of carefree friendship…

Amidst it all, both had no doubt that the Trickster God and his cronies were laughing with glee somewhere in the Divine Realms.


A/N: Apologies that this update took a good while – May was a terrible month for me, all full of torturous practicals (and even more painful statistics) that needed to be written. However, I am happy to report I submitted the last of those on Monday and have also stopped dreaming about researching, doing factor-analysis, ANOVAs, referencing etc. Thankfully. Only exams to worry about now!

Anyway, enough with the excuses. Ta once again to those people who reviewed the previous chapter – they brought a smile to my face and I really appreciate the feedback. Thanks also to the others who have read my fic and added to the number of hits. It sounds silly, and I should probably be begging for more reviews, but hey, it's reassuring to know that there is at least some interest in Jasson and Amayrha's story, and that the whole idea isn't a total flop. Always a good thing to confirm every now and then, I reckon! :-)

Heather the Writer: I'm pretty new (if not embarrassingly green) to writing fiction, so your reviews have been pillars of support! I was worried that I'd been painstakingly descriptive, so I'm particularly glad that you liked the descriptions and detail. I'm planning on keeping that same level of detail throughout; although if it ever gets too tedious, please let me know – I'm still trying to find my 'style' of writing.

Tierchen: It was awesome to read your review – definitely not an annoyance! You sharing your thoughts on how the rest of the story might unfold was a huge compliment, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter since it focused more on Jasson. Also, to answer your question, I have had chapter outlines planned since late April, and I know how I want to conclude Amayrha and Jasson's story. However, those outlines are mostly guides and open to change (which I found even as I wrote them!), so even I can't say with absolute certainty until the epilogue what will happen. Whatever may pass, I just hope that I end up writing a story that I feel honestly proud of and which people have enjoyed.

--Enchantrez