AN: Trigger warning: brief mention of pregnancy loss in this chapter.

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Drabbles
05. Kalasin jian Wilima
During Alanna, the First Adventure
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429
Sarain
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The letter fluttered to the ground as Thiratay bowed her head, shoulders shaking in quiet sobs. Kalasin went to the side of her friend, companion, and protector, snatching up the letter to read it for herself. She couldn't imagine what could have been in the military missive that would have upset her friend so much.

As soon as she'd read it, Kalasin wished she hadn't. Her eyes trailed down to the courtyard below, where her daughter, Thayet, was playing with Thiratay's two children. Pathom had managed to coax a dancing tune from a K'miri carved flute, and Thayet had caught the Buri's arms in her own. They spun in circles, the younger girl's feet occasionally losing contact with the ground.

Kalasin looked between the children, her friend, and the letter. She'd agreed to marry the jin Wilima warlord in hopes of bringing peace to Sarain, but instead violence between the Lowlanders and the K'miri was growing more and more common. Her dear friend had lost her husband in this latest attack, recounted briefly in the letter.

Knowing her friend would want to be alone to digest the news, Kalasin hugged Thiratay quickly, and then spun on her heel to march out of the room. She was feeling confrontational, and there was only one person she wished to face.

She found her husband in the throne room. The air inside felt celebratory. Adigun was slouching in his throne at the head of a long table, legs thrown over the armrest. His war leaders surrounded the other sides of the table, which was laden with a feast. When the men saw Kalasin, they raised their mugs and yelled a cheer before guzzling down their ale.

Adigun smiled dangerously at her. "My friends, if you'll excuse me, I need to have some words with my wife," he said without taking his eyes off Kalasin. The men protested loudly, but Adigun insisted. "Now."

Kalasin held her husband's gaze as the other men filed noisily from the throne room, ignoring the rude comments some of them directed her way. When they were gone, Adigun picked up a sharp knife and began using its point to clean beneath his fingernails. "Did you want something?" he asked unemotionally.

"A traveling party from the Sembou tribe was massacred by Lowlander men yesterday. Massacred," Kalasin said.

"I'm aware," Adigun said. "They were raiders, sent to steal weapons."

"They were families- traveling back from the mountains. Brave men, leading women and children to their homes."

"Not according to my intelligence," Adigun said, shrugging his shoulders indifferently.

"Do you not care about the women who were widowed today? Or the children left fatherless?" Kalasin said, trying to appeal to the very small shred of decency she believed her husband might have within him. "Susatahan Longprum was one of the men who died today."

"As his wife and children live beneath my roof and eat from my table, I think they shall be fine," Adigun said. "They are lucky I don't throw them out into the wilderness. Or execute them as proxy to his treason."

"There was no treason," Kalasin insisted. "He was a good man!"

"I grow tired of this argument," Adigun said.

"You promised that you would help build a peace between our peoples," she said.

"You promised that you would bear my heir," Adigun said icily, stabbing the knife into the table. Kalasin didn't flinch.

"That has nothing to do with the matter at hand."

"It has everything to do with it. You made a promise when we married. It's been nearly a decade, and I still have no heir." Adigun's voice was full of fury now.

"It's not as though I haven't tried. I nearly died more than once in your pursuit of an heir," Kalasin said. Her pregnancy with Thayet had been very hard on her. She'd had five more lost pregnancies in the years since her daughter was born.

"Apparently, you haven't tried hard enough," Adigun told her. "I need a son to guarantee succession."

"You could change things. You could make Thayet your heir," Kalasin pleaded.

"That will not happen," Adigun said. "Thayet is a woman."

Kalasin felt tears of frustration at the corners of her eyes. She blinked them away, refusing to let him see her cry. "When will it be enough, Adigun?"

"I don't know. How many tribes are left?"

That took her by surprise. Kalasin glared at him. "You're despicable," she hissed, turning to leave. She knew she wouldn't get anywhere else with this conversation.

"You will come to me tonight," he called after her. "I still need an heir."

Kalasin shook with anger as she made her way back to her chambers. Thiratay was still on the balcony, watching the children play below.

"How was the warlord?" she asked thickly.

"A little more awful than usual," Kalasin said. "Thira, I am so sorry about Susatahan."

"It's not your fault, Kalasin," her friend said.

"No, it's this unrest. I really thought I could change things, but it's been ten years and it's worse than ever," Kalasin said.

"We all thought your marriage would help," Thiratay said flatly. "Maybe we were wrong. Maybe Susatahan died for a hopeless cause."

"He was defending our people. It was an honorable death, no matter what my husband says," Kalasin told her.

Thiratay bowed her head, "How do I tell my children that their father is gone?"

"I'll help you," Kalasin promised. "Vau East-Wind will give them strength and comfort."

"I'm supposed to be the one looking after you," Thiratay said with a sad smile.

"We look out for each other," Kalasin reminded her. "Always have, always will."

"That's a promise," Thiratay said, meeting Kalasin's eyes through her tears.