winter's queen

“It’s like…it’s like speaking to a child sometimes, I think. Horses don’t think like us, so you can’t act the same to them. But all the same, it’s not like it’s the weirdest thing ever. You get used to it after a while.” Oliver paused. “Sometimes it’s better. Horses aren’t cruel just for the sake for being cruel.” He lowered his eyes to the ground before remembering. “Your Majesty.”

Eira listened intently while he spoke.  “I can imagine it would be a very different experience,” she agreed.  Speaking to children and animals could be similar, she supposed.  Nodding slightly, Eira looked at him while a sigh fell from her lips.  “The world is not the kind place I have wished it to be, unfortunately.  I’m pleased you are able to find contentment with the animals.”

“Recruit, circle the perimeter once and see if all is well,” Alistair said to the ranger, who promptly followed the orders. He then turned to the Queen, dipping his head in acknowledgement. “Your Majesty, I wanted to inquire as to your opinion of the safety of the kingdom. It is easy for us rangers to sometimes lose sight of the grander picture.”

His question gave Eira pause.  She couldn’t discuss her fears with the rangers.  There was nowhere safe she could discuss it.  Only Aric was truly trusted with her fears as Ammut had ears everywhere.  There was no denying that.  “I fear the nobility is also able to lose sight of that,” she told him.  “From where I stand the kingdom seems as safe as it can be, but perhaps the common folk have another opinion of what is happening.  Have you heard anything from the people that would be of importance to consider?”

“Ah, of course.” Oliver couldn’t imagine what the Queen had to do. She probably didn’t have time do visit the stables with all her royal duties. “Well, I mean, your Majesty, I agree - some are noble, but some are mean. Like people, I think.” He paused, realizing how that sounded without context. “Uh, I just mean - horsespeak runs in our family. That’s why he chose to work there.”

Eira listened to what Oliver was saying and nodded.  “That seems to be a very wise interpretation,” she told him before her eyes widened slightly.  “Really?  I have always wondered what it would be like to speak with animals.”  The Queen had no magic within her, something that plagued her when she was a child.

flashback | eira & leo

Eira heard Ruby flee from the room.  No doubt the woman was fearing for her life, but Eira would not let harm come to her no matter what.  She would have to see to her soon, but for now her focus was solely on her lost brother.  “Yes, you do.  Richard resembles him as well,” she murmured softly.  It had been so long since she had seen any member of her family from Sol.  Having Leo back was such a blessing.

Aric stroked his beard, trying to think. “I wish there was a more private way to communicate with your mother,” he said, “We must assume that everything we send to her is being intercepted by Queen Ammut, if your mother is convinced she is the culprit. Her assassin may still linger in Sol…” The thought worried him; if a King was not safe in his own home, who was?

Eira nodded as she listened to Aric speak.  Unfortunately, there was no safer way to communicate unless Eira herself made the trek to Sol.  It had been decades since Eira had last done it and she was unsure if she could at this point, regardless of how much she longed to pay her father respects and see the ocean once more.  “I will be careful.  I cannot let this same fate befall my mother or siblings.” Sighing heavily, she rubbed her temples.  “What can we do?”

Something touched her, and Ruby flinched, though she knew not to shrink away. It would only incur wrath, incur ire. But there was no tension in the queen’s hand, no anger at her touch. Fear gripped Ruby’s body, telling her that pain would be coming soon, but, despite the fear, she also knew the truth. The queen had not lied to her yet, neither grown angry nor impatient in the year and a half that Ruby had lived in the palace. 

Eira would have argued and told Ruby that there was no need for thanks, but she knew the woman wouldn’t accept that.  All she knew was that the girl there at her feet deserved to be happy just as much as Eira herself did.  They were friends and Eira always wanted to look out for those she considered as such.

“I hope I am as well,” Alistair joked, though the only indication was a slight upturn of his lips. May the gods flay him if he ever acted less than professional in front of royalty. “While you are here, your Majesty, I wonder if it might be acceptable to ask but a moment of your time.”

The Queen smiled, slightly surprised by the request but more than happy to grant it.  “Of course.  You have my full attention.  Do you have something to discuss?”

Aric fell silent for a moment as he thought. “Perhaps it might be best not to write to Richard just yet. Console him for the loss, but do not ask him. He likely does not have safety precautions in place.” He rubbed his face, trying to remember how he felt after his own father died. The circumstances were quite different, though; his father had not been murdered. “Did your mother venture a guess as to how she did it?”

Eira listened carefully while her husband spoke.  Aric was right.  Rushing into her response could be dangerous and she did not wish for anyone else to be put at risk.  “Alright,” she murmured softly.  “I will write him but not ask him.  Mother did not say how she thought it was done.  Her letter was extremely vague.  I doubt anyone save myself would have picked up on the hints she left in the wording.”

Her back straightened a little further at the sound of the queen’s voice, not her own terrible mistress, but the winter woman with the kind heart. Dahlia prayed such a heart wouldn’t fall prey to the Queen Crow’s hunger for power, but worried her prayers would go unanswered. They had been since she was escorted to her prison years and years ago. The younger woman turned towards Queen Eira, recognizing the warm pink aura, steady and calm in its burn, that danced around her figure and ended its show in sparks of lighter gold. 

It was hard for Eira to trust those that had come North from the Southern Isles with Ammut.  She knew the Queen Crow was up to no good and thought about her mother’s beliefs.  It could be true, so she had always to be on guard around those she did not know their true allegiance of.  Loyalty was important in members of the court.  Surely Ammut knew that as well.  However, when she spoke, a smile formed on Eira’s lips.  “They are quite skilled craftsmen,” she agreed.  “Nore is lucky to have those with such talent living here.”

She promised Ruby’s safety. Continued reassurance, continued protection. Ruby couldn’t understand it. How someone could be so unendingly kind, how completely understanding. No, Ruby hadn’t believed Leo, but who would? It had been over a year since the prince had disappeared, since rumors and fakes had shown up and – and – she was defending herself in her thoughts, against no-one but herself.

Eira never wanted to look at Ruby as a slave.  She had always seen Ruby as a friend from the very beginning.  She was a friend that Eira trusted more than anyone else save her husband.  Very few knew of how the queen had suffered with sadness.  She still did from time to time.  It had improved, but Eira knew she would never truly escape it.  Thankfully Leo was back.  She had her brother and that was a great help.

“Of course it is,” Oliver said, quick to agree with the Queen. He saw neither his horsespeak nor his metal working as useful to him and had never done anything to cultivate his talents, not really. “Do you know Thomas? My brother works right for you, your majesty, and he uses his magic to tend the horses.” Oliver sniffed. “Dunno why he likes talking to them so much, though.”

Eira smiled slightly while she listened to Oliver speak about his family.  “I’m afraid I don’t spend near as much time in the stables as I once did,” Eira replied.  As a girl that had been one of her favorite places, but a queen’s duties were far outside the stables.  “Horses are very noble creatures.  I can understand the appeal.”

Eira smiled at the girl then moved towards her when she spotted the book.  Knowledge had always been Eira’s preferred way to spend the time.  Reading was one of her favorites.  “What were you reading?”

“Hardly, your Majesty,” Alistair said, dipping his head before looking over sharply at the Ranger recruit next to him to do the same. “We were just going over some of the finer details of this young man’s schedule. On the contrary, I hope we have not been in the way of either you or your family.”

A small smile formed on the queen’s lips while she listened to him speak.  “No, you have not been in my way.  I hope he is training you well,” she told the recruit.  The Rangers were hardly Eira’s business, but she did try to know them as best as she could.

She despised it - being dressed up like the Queen’s doll. Before her servitude, Dahlia enjoyed the sparkling jewels, golden chains, and colorful gowns she would see amongst the Southern Isles nobles. She had never coveted the materialistic world, as her temple had taught her material things were of no value in the afterlife, but like any girl she had dreamed of dressing nice for some festival where she would find her true love and dance until her feet were sore. 

Eira’s time outside the palace walls was limited, but she had been spending more time beyond them lately.  She was in a much better mood and had been looking for a small gift for her youngest son.  The little prince was growing everyday and he continually needed new things.  She thought to stop at Clara’s shop before she was distracted.

Tristan’s eyes lit up. “Oh, but he was a blessing!” Visions of his childhood filled his mind. The nights sitting above stage and watching Kingston’s plays go on, mending costumes, listening to the poet struggle over lines. He even got to proofread some of Robbard’s plays over the years – quite possibly the highest honor Tristan had ever received. “Did you ever see his play about the sparrow hunters? Fae-folk, barely as large as your thumb, seeking to find the feathers of a milk-white bird to heal their queen.”

Tristan seemed so enthused about these things.  It was rare for the Queen to see such excitement but it pleased her.  She smiled and nodded.  “I do believe I have,” Eira replied with a soft smile.  It had been quite some time ago but she did vaguely recall aspects of it.

“Yes, she is, your Majesty. All of us in my family have the metal working magic, but most of us didn’t really practice with it. Not that Father didn’t get us to try, but…” Oliver trailed off, momentarily distracted by thoughts of a time that no longer was.

She listened to what he said with a gentle smile gracing her lips.  “Magic is a gift that should be embraced.  I can understand your father’s thinking.”  The Queen had always been jealous of her brothers and her parents.  They all had magic and she was alone in her normalcy.  It felt like a curse when she was young.  Now it seemed to be less of one, but that did not stop her from wondering what having magic would have been like.