Ghosts of the Past

Sabine regarded the assembled staff before her. Their clothing ranged from the smocks of her kitchen staff to the tabards of the footman. A few courtiers stood before her in their elegant almost gaudy garb and one man still wore his sweat stained tunic from his stable work.

The queen smiled slightly at their nervous air. "Don't worry, I don't kill folk anymore." She said quietly. "I told Raden to have you all come to me because there is a serious problem with one of my children. Contrary to what his siblings think, its not Andreas." Several of the spies exchanged glances and she nodded in satisfaction. "Yes. It is my youngest daughter Asrai."

She glanced at the parchment in her hands and shook her head. "Would those of you who are Shadows and those who are Echoes please separate into groups?" She watched as they divided themselves and tilted her head. The groups were nearly equal in size. "Are any of the assignments you are on pressing?" She asked then. "If something crucial is about to occur, or someone desperately requires watching, or killing, I don't want to take you from your work."

One raised his hand and said quietly. "Your Majesty, none of us fit that description right now. Raden told us that if you needed more folk, to send to the college, he kept the urgent jobs on course. Said he didn't want a knife in your back while we all ran around spying on your daughter."

Sabine's mouth twisted wryly. "I should have known. That man is always second guessing me." She folded her arms. "All right then. This is the problem. Asrai has been acting strange since her play was performed. No one else seems affected but for Faith, which concerns me deeply since her devotion is as great as yours is. For now I'm assuming it has something to do with the theatre, since she's constantly going there. I want for the Shadows to research the theatre, find out if there is anything in its history that will tell us anything. Echoes, you concentrate on the here and now. If its not the theatre, if Asrai is going somewhere else, or something besides that is affecting her, I want to know it. We need to get to the bottom of this. Something tells me we're running out of time, and I always trust my instincts."

The two groups nodded solemnly and she smiled grimly. "Any questions?"

"One my Queen." A voice from in back said. A young man in a page's uniform came forward. "We have no access to the priests of Nicodemus and their secrets. But I've seen a priest coming here at least seven times now. Shall we try to determine what has been happening? Or is this something you are aware of and we can discount the connection?"

Sabine's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "I was aware the priests had been here before. I will investigate that myself. I have a few connections. I will see if some use can be made of them."

"Has the situation changed at all?" Shen asked in concern.

Briar shook her head sadly and Dragon rolled his eyes. "I've rarely met two more stubborn men." He said dryly. "Sebastian practically threw an apology in Andreas' face, but he did offer one. Andreas has yet to accept it. It's been two weeks since they fought."

"I wish Morgana were here." Briar said softly. "She'd be able to see what was wrong." She fingered her harp, the strings sounding poignant in the stillness.

"My dear, it's not a question of seeing what is wrong, but understanding what to do about it." Vidan corrected her. "Everyone seems to agree that he is angry. But why is the crux of the matter."

"Yes." Briar whispered. She tilted her head, her black hair falling over her shoulder and sighed. As if unable to stop herself, she pulled at the strings of the harp again. "And he will not speak of it. It hurts Lorelei."

"Yes." Dragon's growl of a voice agreed a touch of anger in his tone at the thought of how Andreas was hurting his twin. "She even approached Sebastian, asking him to put an end to it. He is as mystified as the rest of us."

"Where is my youngest granddaughter in all this?" Elaith wondered from his place beside his wife. He had been silent thus far, considering the words of the others. Now frowns furrowed the brows of the two half elves and Briar finally looked at him.

"Asrai has been different lately too." She said softly. "Something consumes her, but it isn't anger." She glanced at Dragon. "Her mother spoke with Lorelei and I, asking when we noticed the change, I believe she is trying to discover what is wrong, the rest of us have no idea."

Dragon glanced at the corner and then at Elaith. "My lord, do you think your daughter would object if I borrowed her lute?" He inquired seemingly out of the blue.

Elaith gave an elegant shrug and shook his head. "Doubtful." He gestured towards the instrument. "Please."

The warrior mage rose and retrieved the instrument, looking at Briar he then glanced at Shenandoah and Vidan. "I believe this is an old song, yes?" He played a few bars the elves nodded.

"But what has that to do with what we are discussing?" Vidan asked patiently.

"We ask the Maiden for help." Briar murmured looking up at him with glowing eyes. "We do what we can." She began to run her hands over the harp strings and looked at her father's flute pointedly. She began to sing, hope underscoring her voice, and slowly her father's flute, and Shen's, then Dragon's voice joined her.

"I have loved and I have lost

I have learned and I have lied

I've been broken and tossed aside

I may be all I have done

Something deeper sustains me.

::

I have healed and I have killed

I have wept and I have sighed

I've been foolish and filled with pride

I may be all I have done

Something deeper sustains me.

::

Love's the only cage strong enough

For all the pain in the world

Love's the only way my heart goes on.

Love's the only cage big enough

For all the pain in the world.

Deep within, you know I'm not wrong.

::

You have laughed and smiled

You have smoldered and yearned

You've been heartsick and wild and spurned.

Heart sick you may be

Something deeper sustains thee.

::

Love's the only cage strong enough

For all the pain in the world

Love's the only way my heart goes on.

Love's the only cage big enough

For all the pain in the world.

Deep within, you know I'm not wrong.

::

We are enslaved and free

We are helpless and strong

We've all been there, where we don't belong!

Against every anger and agony.

Something deeper sustains you and me.

::

Love's the only cage strong enough

For all the pain in the world

Love's the only way my heart goes on.

Love's the only cage big enough

For all the pain in the world.

Deep within, you know I'm not wrong."

::

Vidan let the voice of the flute die away as the last voice in the chorus slowly faded and he looked at his daughter somberly. "He will be in my prayers, and so will she." He said and rose to leave.

In the hallway Andreas stepped back into an alcove, concealing himself from Briar's father. Ignoring his trembling hands, and the fact that the music and their concern had moistened his eyes he hurried onward for his appointment with his father.

Amon opened the door of the Royal couple's private suite and gestured for his son to enter. The king was clad in rather casual clothing but in contrast his demeanor was one of concerned solemnity. "You wanted to see me sir?" Andreas inquired, taking a seat as his father directed him to a chair.

Amon nodded. "I wanted to have a talk with you, yes." He sat down on the couch across from Andreas and lit the lamp. "We let it go at the time but your mother and I have been quite concerned about you."

Andreas sighed. "Its because Sebastian and I fought." He said with a slightly bitter tone to his voice. "How would you feel if the woman you confided in as a friend was a spy and you didn't know?"

Amon shrugged. "Angry." He conceded his son's point. "But not to the point of rage as you were." He shook his head slowly. "No Andreas, your fight with Sebastian is merely a symptom of the more serious malady." The king leaned forward meeting his son's gaze. "You have been troubled in spirit since your return from the Western Heart."

Andreas couldn't meet his father's gaze for long. Looking down he shrugged. "I've been missing someone there."

Amon nodded, his smile a bit sad. "I know how you feel." He said quietly.

His son's head jerked up angrily and he regarded his sire with glittering eyes. "How, how could you… How could you possibly understand how I feel?" He asked with slow incredulity. "You were able to marry Mother!" He practically spat those words as his face twisted with bitter rage. "My whole life I have done all that was asked of me. I followed the standard of behavior you set. I obeyed the rules. When you said go to the Western Heart to be a squire to Lord Drakkar, I went. I did my job. Now the one thing I want the most in the world is denied to me. As if I'm being punished for some flaw."

Amon stared at his son and shook his head. "If Elaith could hear you." He said softly. "At least you come by it honestly enough." His gaze hardened. "Do you imagine you are the only person in the world to lose someone? You hold your pain to you as if it were precious. You refuse to speak of it and hoard the hurt like a treasure."

Andreas could not stop himself, he rose from his chair, his body poised on the brink of action whether to attack or bolt not even he seemed certain. "I do not." Andreas breathed the words out carefully, trying to contain the fury that leapt up in him.

"No?" His father retorted. "The anger I see in your eyes can have only two causes. Pain and fear." The king shook his head. "The pain I understand, but what do you fear?" His fingers stroked his chin thoughtfully as he considered his son.

"I don't." Andreas said shortly.

"Why make Sebastian a target for your rage?" Amon asked. "Why not one of the nobles? Crownsilver, Huntsilver or someone else? Why not me?" His voice was so completely reasonable that Andreas' rage spilled over.

"Because of his deceit!" He shouted. "I'm tired of being compared to the 'so perfect' Sebastian when he could do such things! He lies and thieves and conceals and deceives and…" words failed him for a moment and he clenched his hands. "And yet he is the one whom they all adore, the one whom you all side with, not me!" He dropped back into the chair, his expression proclaiming his disgust with the topic under discussion.

Amon shook his head. "I suppose you think I can't possibly understand any of this?" He asked in a surprisingly mild voice. "The fact that I fell in love with a woman who everyone believed was unsuitable to be my queen, which I was told again and again. Over and over that I could not marry for love." He regarded his son with a strange smile. "Do you imagine I have no idea what it's like to believe your love hopeless? I may have been allowed to marry your mother but the both of us have never stopped thanking the gods for that."

He shook his head again. "You think I don't know how it feels to compare yourself with siblings and feel wanting? You've seen my family." He looked at his son. "Andreas, Tourmaline was the oldest, and the ladies always fell for him. Fyrehawke was at peace in the woods, and anything to do with nature was his domain. In everyone's eyes Bryn was Dad's favorite. Uther was scholarly. Everyone turned to him for wisdom and advice. Sapphire was the leader. I was the one who lived in Cormyr. I saw myself as always the outsider, the tagalong. I never beat my siblings at anything. And yet I was the one who was supposed to be a king. How in the gods name do you think I felt." His gaze hardened slightly as he looked at his son. "You know what, you don't know how I felt. Just like I don't know exactly what you felt. But I can empathize with it. No one knows truly how another person feels, but that doesn't mean we can't compare what they are going through to our own experiences and feel compassion for them."

Andreas seemed about to fire off another retort when a cool voice spoke from the shadows behind his father. As her words drifted towards him the prince realized he still couldn't see his mother, nor would he unless she chose to reveal herself.

"You have no idea how we felt Andreas." She said quietly. "But hearing your words makes me wonder if we erred somehow in raising you. When did you become convinced that life came with a contract that swore it would be fair?" She finally stepped from the shadows, allowing her son to see her.

Andreas stared at her and took in her clothing, knew she concealed daggers beneath her sleeves and emotion with cold eyes, just as Sebastian did. "It has become very clear, to me my queen, that life is not fair." He said coldly and formally.

"I see, but it is fair to your siblings?" She asked and his face confirmed that he believed that was true. "You believe you are the only one in your family who has suffered? All of your sisters and your brother have had difficulties of their own to deal with. But you only see their triumphs." She shook her head.

Amon sighed. "Morgana has struggled all her life to resolve the nature of her bond with the elves to her half breed status. She is more elven than human at times, but the Tel'Quessir will never see her as anything but human. And yet she must bear the Sword one day. Your twin has been living in your mother's shadow and finally learned she doesn't need to defy us in order to be her own person. And you know what she went through during that rebellious time of her life, the pain it brought her. Sebastian lives with fear, constantly, that he will miss something, that he will fail us all. He knows he is meant to be the next Spymaster, and he desires it, but he fears that responsibility even as he embraces it." He looked at Sabine and she tilted her head.

"And your baby sister Asrai? She struggles with being the youngest child, the last one, in a family of talented, brilliant individuals. She lives with your shadows over her, and tries to be her own person though we all try to protect her from the world." The queen said softly. "Just as your father and I struggled with our fears and flaws, so do our children. But you don't seem to see that. What do you see when you look at me Andreas?"

Andreas shrugged uncomfortably. "I see the queen of my nation." He spoke reluctantly avoiding her eyes.

His mother's eyes darkened almost imperceptibly and she shook her head coming away from the wall to stand behind the couch, her hand touching Amon's shoulder. "That is not what I'm talking about and you know it." Andreas' face twisted and he leapt to his feet again, turning as if he would leave the room. His entire body was tense with agitation.

Sabine shook her head and in the flat cold voice her son knew, to his discomfort, quite well, said. "You stay right where you are."

Her son snapped at her. "Now I see my mother!"

She nodded, her face expressionless. "Yes, you see your mother, and that's all you see." Her voice in contrast to her face was almost challenging now, anger fueling her words and hurt underscoring them. "Do you see anything besides your mother when you look at me? Besides the queen? Do you even recognize what I am?"

As his parents watched him Andreas' face went still as he tried to conceal the emotions that conflicted in him. Distaste, anger, pain, reluctance to acknowledge this side of her, and dismay. He clearly didn't enjoy seeing his mother was an assassin even though he adored her. Finally with slow reluctance he said with faint dislike. "I see my brother."

Sabine nodded slightly, moving around the couch to sit beside her husband. "Now you are getting close." She told him quietly. "Get a bit closer and when you look at him you will see me. Everything you dislike about him." She looked at her husband and Amon took her hand, clasping it within his.

Amon said gently. "Andreas don't you understand? Everything Sebastian is he's gotten from your mother, and from myself. Just as you have elements of myself and Sabine in you."

Their son was silent, his face firming with resolve, obviously not wanting to think about that. It meant that he too had pieces within himself that he might not like. That he too was capable of all the things he disliked in his brother.

Dark violet eyes looked at him sorrowfully. "And you cannot continue to deny it." His mother said firmly. "Do you think we're all so self-involved that we do not see how you look at us?" Her hand trembled in her husbands grasp. "Or how you refuse to look at us?"

"We aren't perfect Andreas." Amon injected quietly. "We all try, but we aren't. You don't have to be perfect."

"And you cannot continue to think of us as so, and deny what we truly are." His mother continued. "It is dangerous for everyone, when we refuse to see truly."

Sabine looked at her husband and smiled adoringly. "Your father had been through so much at your age, he was forced so learn early, sometimes from an enemy. I don't want you to learn too late, not from anyone, friend or foe." Her son shifted uncomfortably and frowned. She shook her head and a dry chuckled emerged from her throat. "We always say you are like Alusair. You don't see it much, because your looks are different, but my son you are so much like your father."

Andreas snapped out furiously. "I am well aware of that!"

"Are you?" Sabine looked at him with cool interest, aware that she has struck a nerve. Deliberately pushing she asked. "When you were fifteen, what happened to you?"

"When I was fifteen I constantly heard what had happened to my father! When I was sixteen I constantly heard!" Andreas retorted angrily.

Amon asked quietly. "And you feel?"

Andreas looked at them, almost furious that they were making him go through this. "How do you think I feel?" His voice rose angrily.

"As if you cannot live up to it?" Sabine said softly questioning.

"Lady no one could live up to that!" Her son spat the words.

"Then do not!" His mother's voice rose angrily her frustration finally showing and she shouted back at her son. "Do not live in your fathers shadow or his image! Live in your own! You are not your father! No one expects you to be and no one wants you to be! We never expected you to be. The comparison was always in your eyes, not in ours."

Andreas stared taken aback by the sheer volume of her words. In all his memory, not once had his mother raised her voice in anger. To do so now… His father spoke, jerking him out of his daze. In contrast Amon's voice was quiet.

"I see greatness in you Andreas. You don't have to live up to me, only to yourself." He smiled, that same strange sad smile. "I look at you and it makes me at times want to do better because I have such exemplary children, and you all make me so proud. I want to leave something noble for my children." He shook his head, the smile still tugging his lips. "And I'm so afraid that when you've done the things I've done, that someday I'll do something wrong, horribly wrong. I've made mistakes, lord knows you've heard of them. But I'm afraid I'll do something terribly wrong and embarrass all of you."

He looked at his son. "Andreas, I know you think that people look at you and say, 'There's Amon's son.' And you're worried that that is all they will ever say. Trust me, there will come a day when they look at me and say, 'There is Andreas' father.' And part of me is reluctant to experience that because we all have our own pride, but that will come and there's nothing wrong with that. There's nothing I can do to change that. There's going to come a time when people will look at me and say 'there's Andreas' father', instead of 'there is King Amon'. And the time will come when you have a child of your own who will wonder if anyone will ever look at him, and see anyone other than Andreas' son. There will be a day and you won't like that any better than you like how you feel now. I know, because I wondered the same thing when I saw Alusair. It is very difficult to walk the same path as your parents, and pray you don't suffer in comparison."

Sabine sighed and said in her normal modulated tone. "Andreas…we are not…" She rolled her eyes. "Well yes, we are trying to lecture you, doubtless you're too old for it but you'll have to forgive us and endure. Our point is this: You are so angry, about what you think you should have, or think you should be, or how you're not living up to this. That makes you feel inadequate. But you're forgetting about all the things that you are. All the things we are not." She shook her head. "Do you think that your father and I have your gift from strategy. Your enjoyment and ability to learn from history? I know that I can't defend a castle wall against all comers."

"I'm a warrior Andreas." Amon said quietly. "Put me on a battlefield and I can command a unit up to an army. I'm a leader, but I am not a strategist in truth. I can win battles, but I hope I never have to learn if I could win a war. You are able to do that and more. You're a strategist, a tactician, and I thank gods for it, because you're also a leader." He smiled at his son who was looking at them both in slight confusion. "Do you think we're unaware of all you've accomplished? Or how difficult it was for you? The odds against your success were overwhelming but you did it. More knowledge than we can dream of is preserved because of your accomplishments. Your mother and I, Don Pedro, Lady Krystin, Tanalastia, D'artagnan… Even Don John, each time he visits, approaches me, asking when he may speak to you about Candlekeep. He wants to know when he may ask you to write an account of your experiences in the Western Heart, what took place, and what you did." He took a breath and looked at his wife.

"My father and Shen." Sabine said quietly, ticking off on her fingers. "Lord Chess and Brynheld, even Raden, all of us looked at what you did, what you managed to achieve and we were all amazed and stunned and wondering where in the name of the gods you got this ability from because it certainly wasn't from us. We even had the ambassador from the South, inquire on the behalf of king, where you received your tactical training. They wondered who tutored you."

"No one ever said anything to me." Andreas said in softly shocked tones. "Not a word."

"Of course not!" His mother snapped at him. "In case you hadn't noticed Andreas, we are a very private family, and we respect each others wishes even if we're worried to death, until we're certain interfering is the right thing to do. You returned and you made it very plain that you had no wish to discuss the Western Heart, or anything to do with it, at all!"

Amon said quietly. "Do you know how difficult its been for Morgana to keep from saying anything, or wrapping her arms around you every time she thinks of something in Candlekeep that is still there because of you? She shares your love of history you know. Do you know how hard it has been for your twin, to know you had gone through hell and you wouldn't even let her comfort you? You've been breaking her heart."

Sabine shook her head. "Poor Asrai, the first few months, she had to bite her tongue every other minute, or her sisters would say something to drown out the questions she had. She wanted to talk to you so badly, to find out how you'd done it, she couldn't spend any time with her adored big brother because she was afraid she'd offend you." She rolled her eyes. "And Sebastian?" Her mouth twitched into a grin. "He and I spent about two months, analyzing what you'd done, trying to figure it out, from the few details that we did have. We were both just astounded, and completely awed. Because Andreas, neither your brother nor I can do what you did. Your mind works in a way that we can't even comprehend, and what you had done…well we never did figure out how you did it." His mother looked at him and sighed. "You act as if you don't notice everything you do. You act as if we don't even see you. You defended Candlekeep as if it was a fortress. And you came home and built one around your heart, and shut us all out." The tone of her voice was hurt.

"Why don't you notice what you do?" Amon asked Andreas. "Why don't you recognize your own accomplishments?"

Andreas stared at his hands and realized they were shaking. To think of that time was so hard for him, the pain of it, and the terror he'd felt. But it wasn't the memories that were overwhelming him, those were dimmer now, the raw wound they had been scarred over, mostly healed. Now, his parents' words were pounding through his blood, like a fever, wracking him. He was trembling he noticed, and his eyes were stinging. Taking a breath his throat was tight and he swallowed thickly. He looked down, absorbing their words, how proud they were of him, how well they knew him, how much they loved him. He nearly sobbed as he took another breath understanding finally just how deeply he'd been hurting his parents, his entire family and himself, by shutting everyone out.

Hoarsely he whispered. "Please, will you excuse me?" His head bowed and hands clenched together to keep them from shaking he prayed they would let him go.

"You may go." His father's voice was gentle, as if understanding what his son was enduring at this moment. Andreas looked up and froze as his mother spoke.

"Before you go, my son." She whispered. "May I have a kiss?" Huge pain haunted violet eyes looked at him and it struck him like a blow as he looked from her to his father's face that this was just as difficult for them to say as it was for him to hear. His parents got no enjoyment out of these talks that were so painful to him. They too, looked as if they were in agony.

Rising from his chair Andreas crouched next to his mother and tried to summon up a smile for her. Failing miserably his mouth twisted in self-mockery and he wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug, kissing her cheek. He could taste the salt of her tears on his lips and a deep shuddering sigh went through him.

Relaxing his embrace he rose and gave his father a quick rough hug before he hurried from the room.

TBC