winter: Year 253 of the Bynding
The sensation has tugged at the back of her head all day, muddying her focus even though it doesn't actually hurt. Dakadza is scowling at her journal where she documents what she eats. It's practice for him, with the language he's fought to learn over the past few years, and a second opinion for her.
"There's no pattern!" he gripes, anxiety tightening his tone. He says he's just aware of how inconsistencies can be weaponized—he grew up subject to that—but Geddis is unconvinced.
"Maybe we're missing something," she says anyway about the record she keeps because he asked her to, even as she stares at the envelope in her hand. A real-live dragon Shifter brought it--and not the one that's her forefather many generations removed, either. Shifters are supposed to be myths at best, rare abominations that can't control their animal natures, but she's met several in the past few years. "Maybe it's stress."
Dakadza immediately tosses the book back on the shelf and drops beside her on the mat she sits on. His hands knead up her side, the flow of it warning her not to look at him unless she wants to be late for her next class.
"Not now," she tells him, voice soft with the desire for yes, now. But she made a promise to these people, to teach them the local trade language so they can gain autonomy and decide what they want to do for themselves, and she's not going to muck with that, no matter how badly she wants the comfort he's offering.
The natives here are the underclass, the illegitimate persons who've been used as slaves. The new high king of the elves pulled the overclass into his realm, where he can have more control, and sent a few of his own people to help the transition, since they themselves had only recently escaped slavery (and, from how the old masters had treated them, many were illegitimate).
Focusing on her desires over the repercussions were what got her here, in a foreign realm where she's broader than any three locals put together and knows little of their language. Geddis became a king's mistress on purpose, because she didn't want to spend the rest of her life working. She's since realized that she just didn't want to be a maid, which was horrible for her health, and she'd had people offering her jobs that suited her better. She just hadn't been listening.
Maybe she still would've chosen to be a king's mistress, regardless, despite the king's wife being one of the few people who'd noticed and remembered Geddis even when she was a maid. King Liathen had noticed her, too, and he'd found her attractive because of her bulk, not despite it. Their child hadn't affected that.
If anything, their child had reminded him how much he had to resent about his half-sister, Evonalé. Her father had stolen his from him. Their mother had gotten to raise her, not him, and she had escaped while he experienced horrors that Geddis never had learned the full extent of. Evonalé even got a husband she loved deeply, while he had to make do with a barren woman he found entertaining but often disliked.
At least, that's what Geddis suspects, now, from discussions with Dakadza, who likes chatting about that sort of thing. That possibility sure explains how Liathen handled his wife finding out about Firthé. He hadn't told Lallie that he'd taken a mistress, but he hadn't minded at all when she found out at the newborn's cradle. Even Lallie herself had expressed more distress at the lack of communication than at what he'd done, and she'd intentionally left the realm so she wouldn't interfere with their relationship.
Liathen had been a stubborn man--how else would he have survived what Evonalé's family did to him?--but maybe Lallie could've coaxed him into being more careful when the assassin was about. She would've at least ensured he was better guarded even if she defied him to do it, and she could have healed him. All Geddis could do was try to drag him back to the populated part of the caves, screaming for help that had come too late.
And maybe, if Liathen hadn't died, Geddis wouldn't be staring at an envelope now, fearing whatever news it might contain about her baby, who'd been kidnapped the morning after his father's murder.
Dakadza, despite how obviously he cares about her, isn't drawn to her body. It's a pleasant diversion, for him, but no more enjoyable than discussing some book with her or eating a cheese tart. She's the one who prefers the physical intimacy, even though he can't give her children--and she sometimes resents that. She's probably too faery to Bridge, to be able to have children with him, and she wants more than the baby she doesn't even know is alive.
Does Firthé even remember her, at this point? He was five moons old when taken, and it's been several months. He's doubtless crawling by now.
If he's alive.
Dakadza pulls away enough to sit, staying near in comfort. "Want me to open it for you?"
Geddis closes her eyes. She shouldn't let him. It's her baby, her responsibility. She would've sought him if Tuelzi hadn't stripped her Finding magic, which has taken most of this time to return.
She can't Find her baby.
Her magic's failed her once before, so maybe Firthé is just shielded or something, but...
Her magic has only ever failed the once, and even that presumed failure was a matter of not quite telling Geddis where the person was.
If her baby lived, she would know.
She takes a breath, bracing herself, then forces herself to stand up. Dakadza rises with her, ready to steady her, since he's so much stronger than she is.
Geddis locks her knees so she doesn't wobble physically, but she can't control her voice as she holds out the envelope. "Please don't tell me."
She drops it in his hand and goes to teach mountaineer to people who, until recently, had even less voice and choice than she ever did.
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The envelope is warm from his mate's hand, and Dakadza opens it carefully. Paper is still new to him, something he only encountered in the past few years, and he still cuts himself more often than he likes. Like most montai, as born earth elementals are called, he can heal instantly upon touching earth, but pain is still unpleasant, and the evidence of what he is makes people uncomfortable.
He doesn't blame them. When he realized just how wrong his father had been, how much the violence and control inherent in montai culture aren't actually necessary to life, he lost his comfort with what he is, too.
The fact that his father tried to kill him didn't help, nor did the way his sister saved his life when they were still strangers. His discomfort has only grown as he's witnessed his mother healing from his father's treatment.
He grew up believing that women were weak and meant for breeding. His sister had shown him how wrong he was without even trying, and their mother...
His mother so obviously could have stopped Father if she'd only remembered things she'd known centuries before he'd been born. Even she hadn't remembered she was that old.
His mother is blossoming and embracing the autonomy he's never known her to have, while he...flounders, if he's honest with himself. He's even here in Breidentel for Geddis's sake.
By montai standards, Geddis had been second wife to his sister's husband. That had warranted guarding her, and Geddis was so unlike the other non-montai he'd met. She complained freely, actually showing him how severe the infraction was when he messed up instead of leaving him to have to guess, and she was usually willing to explain why, after she'd calmed down.
And if he said something she didn't understand, she asked, trusting he had a reason. The reason might be barbaric or ignorant, by her standards, but she trusted that the reason existed--and, he thinks, understands that he actually wants to know when things he says don't make sense to others.
Dakadza unfolds the letter and snorts. It's a good thing he opened this, because Geddis doesn't need to see that her uncle forgot she can't read seafarthen--or, at least, what he assumes is seafarthen. He can't read it, either.
Dakadza sighs, carefully writes a note telling Geddis he'll be back, and heads for the portal that links Breidentel to the elven high realm, Marsdenfel. He's not supposed to visit--the new high king is younger than Dakadza and simplifying his headache by keeping all non-elves out of Marsdenfel, right now.
But Dakadza's sister is the widow of the previous king, protecting King Berthen from repercussions of making him an exception, and somebody has to push for the isolationism to end, for it to be a temporary tool that the king will rescind, and sooner rather than later.
And if the power and isolation go to Berthen's head, and he ends up paranoid enough to try to kill Dakadza? Odds are the elf wouldn't win that fight.
Berthen dislikes the isolationism, but he also views it as a safety measure, and he doesn't quite believe Dakadza about how fast it can become dangerous.
The building with the portal is clean but empty, for none here in Breidentel desire to deal with the persons Berthen moved there, to keep with him in Marsdenfel. Dakadza calls up his magic, which pushes things to revert to their natural states. His hope is that it'll protect him, if Berthen locks the portal against him, though Dakadza doesn't understand the magic.
Portals stem from mangled probabilities, which makes them a form of faery magic, and faeries can't Bridge their magic even to the level he was born on. He can work earth and natural states without thinking about it, but he can't light a fire or yank the water out of a person's body. The lower Bridges aren't so limited.
The brightly lit, open welcome area of Breidentel stands in contrast to where the portal ends in Marsdenfel. The cavern is essentially a hallway, and it's small and dim, lit only by the faint glow of something in the walls.
Dakadza lived here long enough that he finds his way out of there with ease, heading straight to the wide room where Berthen likes holding court, which has windows by the ceiling, letting sunlight in, and a target for him to throw knives at so he doesn't get too agitated.
Berthen, elf though he is, is also montai due to a great-grandmother. It doesn't show in his appearance--he looks pure elf, even experiencing the delayed puberty. It's had repercussions for his magic, though, and that might be why Berthen narrows his eyes at Dakadza instead of throwing that knife he's fondling.
"What are you doing here?" Berthen demands in mountaineer, despite the elvish that he's been speaking with his people.
Dakadza holds up the letter. "News of your cousin."
The narrowed gaze doesn't waver for long enough that Dakadza wonders if he's going to be sent away.
Then Berthen gives a huff, dismisses those in court, and beckons for Dakadza to approach.
Dakadza doesn't move, looking pointedly at the knife. It's an insult, in montai terms, and he has enough clout among his people for diplomacy to be warranted.
Berthen huffs again and flings the knife. The casual bull's-eye always makes Dakadza sad for him. The younger male is obviously unhappy, but he has decided his happiness is worth sacrificing for the sake of the elves.
He glances at the letter. "Kid's been magic-stripped, but he's responded by sleeping rather than screaming, so they're hopeful he'll recover with minimal psychological damage. They're keeping him with some folks who can deal with the repercussions if they're wrong. That's all you needed?"
Dakadza shrugs. "How are you?"
Berthen glares. "Don't you start."
Start...what, exactly? "I don't understand."
"I already have my grandfather's family bitching at me for sending Malor away. I'm not adopting an heir, and I am marrying whatever woman I choose to have a child with."
Dakadza assumes he means 'woman' as in 'biological female' and not in the sense of social role, even though they're commonly conflated, because he's pretty sure Berthen is as male as his name and affect...though isn't the puberty at sixteen only a thing with elf females? "You can have more than one--" what's the gender-neutral word? "--spouse."
"Makish take it, I just told you not to start!" Berthen's movements are sharp as he strides to the target and yanks out the knives.
"I'm sorry." Dakadza says that in elvish, before continuing, "That's not how I meant it. I'm just confused about why, if marriage isn't just for breeding and there are multiple possible reasons for it, it matters what genitals they have. It's not as if Lallie could give Liathen children, so that's not necessary for marriage."
Berthen sighs and sets his knives down. "I see. This is you being confused by social rules again, not trying to be an ass. You're planning to ask Geddis?"
Dakadza blinks. He hasn't thought about that, though he should have. They might be married by his people's standards--or as close to marriage as his people has--but they certainly aren't by her standards, nor by elven.
He considers the possibility. "I don't think that's an option."
Berthen sighs again. "I'm not going to freak out on you and assume you're trying to get an angle to take over here, by taking the old king's mistress and son."
"It's not that." Would explaining this be 'going there'? Only one way to find out. "Geddis wants more children. I'm happy with her, but I don't think she'll always be happy with me. I'm not sure she even is now."
"That's what counseling is for," Berthen says briskly. "I suggest you look into it, at least for the effects of how her magic still won't be able to Find him when it returns."
Oh. That explains her moodiness, lately.
"Back on your question about marriage, you're right that logical consistency means it's irrelevant which of the possible reasons for marriage apply, but a lot of people believe that some scenarios are innately wrong or unnatural or condemned by the Creator."
Dakadza winces. "That's just another form of 'My way's Right, and everyone else is Wrong.'"
That was his father's attitude, and he remembers the harm that ensued from that all too clearly.
"I agree, but I'm having a hard enough time getting the elves to accept the truth of my predecessors' situations. What I want... I want all elves--and everyone else--to be able to choose for themselves without the social stigmas and pressures that cause the negative side effects the naysayers complain about.
"Yuoleen shouldn't have been ostracized for having Endellion. Endellion definitely should have been listened to when she sought help, instead of being thought paranoid or blame-shifting her 'obvious' desire for her brother, since illegitimate persons are going to be into even more taboo things than how they came about, didn't you know?"
The hypocrisy of Yuoleen being ostracized for her illegitimate child while Liathen wasn't for his own doubtless also factors into Berthen's upset.
"I don't think I will live to benefit from the end goal myself," Berthen continues, "but I can start the process, and maybe one day you can reassure my grandkid that I would've approved of them making very different choices than mine."
Dakadza glances about and checks his magic for eavesdroppers before saying softly, "You're montai enough to live, too."
Berthen winces. "Perhaps, but with how this realm goes through rulers, I'm not expecting to. I've made my... No, I haven't made my peace with it. I'm still pissed at Liathen for shoving this on me. But I need to accept it, so don't bring this up again. Find someone else to ask your questions."
Dakadza recognizes that as a dismissal, thanks Berthen for the translation, and heads back to Breidentel. Geddis said not to tell her, but at least he'll have the answer ready once she does ask.