Shattered Realm | ze_kraken x Kat

[ze_kraken]

​

King

still sounded unfamiliar on Garrett's lips. Though he had mouthed the word over and over again, nothing made the sound of King Garrett III sound proper. Men and women he had known for years - even his own brothers - were now bowing and calling him Your Grace. He recalled the words his late father had shared with him about his own coronation.

"Becoming a King from a Prince is like donning a new set of clothes - it will feel uncomfortable at first, but soon you will come to slip comfortably into it and barely begin to notice it just like how you do not feel the weight of your clothes right now."

Garrett hoped he was right, for now the outfit of King tugged and snared and weighed on his shoulders. It was a pleasant garment, to be sure, but one he felt woefully unprepared to don. That had not stopped the Arch Priest from conducting the coronation, nor had it stopped his brothers from calling him Your Grace. Prince Garrett had been able to attend Court and charm nobles and woo young women without a care in the world. King Garrett was expected to offer counsel and resolve squabbles, to remain impartial and fair no matter how petty the request or how empty the words became.

And the crown was heavy. Garrett now appreciated the slouch his kingly father had developed after years upon the throne, and a part of him wondered how the old man had managed to seat himself in the throne for so long. Perhaps worse than all of the discomfort that came with adorning himself in the outfit of King was how much Garrett's ass had come to hurt after long days hearing out his lords and vassals and knights and smallfolk and councilors. The throne was stone, and no matter how he sat or for how long it was cold and hard upon his cheeks.

Garrett stood in front of a mirror that had once been his father's, standing still with his arms outstretched as one of his many handmaids draped a cloak over his shoulders embossed with his family's sigil - an eagle clutching a pair of thunderbolts in each talon. The cloak was made of pure wool dyed a faint blue grey, fringed with gold at the edges in a decorative weave. Below he wore a tunic of the same shade, decorated with a swirling pattern of gold thread work weaving into a shield etched with a crown in its center. The tunic flowed out beneath a leather belt adorned with golden tassels, the remaining cloth splitting into two halves that lined his thighs. His legs were clad in cream-colored trousers of fine cotton, tucked into leather boots.

He nodded his thanks to his handmaiden as another clasped the cloak together with a length of gold chain. Another laced his boots. His clothing donned, they stepped back and awaited his gesture to dismiss them. He gave it with a flick of his wrist, retrieving his sword from its rack upon the wall and sliding it into its sheath of glossy brown leather, detailed with gold. Garrett clasped the sheath to his belt and retrieved his crown from its case beside his bed. It was a simple thing, made of plain, burnished steel with an obsidian eagle clutching bolts of brilliant copper and gold in its center.

Simple, but oh is it heavy, Garrett mused as he donned the crown, fumbling with it until the sigil lined perfectly with the center of his face.

The walk from his quarters to the throne room was a short one through spacious, well-lit and carpeted hallways. The throne room stood in the center of his family's castle, elevated to the second floor, granting the king views of the courtyard below through archways left open in the halls. Below he heard steel clatter on steel as his eyes lingered on the knights drilling in the yard and spied young ladies and their mothers strolling through the yard's meager gardens. The wind was chill, rushing Garrett to the warmth of the throne room.

"All kneel before His Grace, King Garrett, Third of His Name, King of the Iron Steppes and Lord Commander of the Storm Eagles!"

All in the throne room knelt as Garrett strode to the throne, unclasping the sword sheath from his belt and placing it leaning against the side of the throne. Rather reluctantly, he seated himself in the stone chair, already feeling its cold stone painfully rubbing against old soreness along his thighs.

"All may rise," he declared.

His voice was a reedy one, though it carried through the halls well enough. His late father had often tried to coach Garrett as a boy through how to speak properly as befitted the future king but to no avail. His brothers had teased him for it, calling him Prince Wheeze for much of his childhood. The moniker had stuck, and Garrett knew many of the knights and foot soldiers still referred to him as Prince Wheeze behind his back. Ruefully, he wondered if they called him King Wheeze now.

"You have my thanks for coming," Garrett continued after a brief pause as his guests rose.

His guests were all matters of folk - there were emissaries from other kingdoms and fiefdoms, knights with their squires, suitors and their fathers, commoners seeking an audience. Most important of all were those that would be his sworn shield, something he suspected had contributed to the large portion of men carrying steel in the throne room this morning. His father's bodyguards had all perished upon the battlefield with him, leaving the new king without such a kingsguard.

"Before matters of State may be addressed, first may those seeking to be my sworn shield and captain of my kingsguard step forward and present yourselves."

The lords and ladies, commoners and emissaries, all stepped back as the fighting men lurched forward in a hasty line of gleaming steel and banners before him. He spotted familiar ones such as the twin lions rampant of the knightly household of Anderclair, the sly golden fox of Foxworth Hill, the twin towers of the Lords of Smallguard. And more still were the ones he could not recognize, likely from holdings outside his own or knights of little renown attempting to make themselves known. He saw bears and fish, swords and crowns, stags and owls. After a while all the sigils and colors blurred into one massive rainbow lined in grey steel.

"May each step forth and proclaim themselves, their titles, and their deeds so the King may deliberate!" Declared his seneschal.

Garrett smiled and looked on to the warriors with eager interest, as was befitting of a king, but all he could seem to focus on was the cold stone digging into his thighs and how his neck already felt stiff from the weight of the crown. And, more than it all, how uncomfortable his outfit was.

 

[junebug]

The triumphant sounds of horns and cheering made Laken feel sick to her stomach as the young man— no matter, a pale and sickly young boy— arrived and sat upon the throne. There wasn't an old man any more. He had passed away and now his poor son was left to defend the country that took years to build. Now that Prince Garrett III was King Garrett III, travesties and betrayals would quickly unfold as the late king's son looked anything but enthusiastic in his role. How could he rule them? The boy looked as if he were to die any moment.

Laken hid, sitting all the way at the back row on the far left side. She donned a blue gray cloak wrapped around her face and body and a mere illusion. People knew who she was, they simply kept quiet about her seemingly unannounced arrival just before the new king had strode in with a whole new weight on his shoulders. While His Majesty— the word tasted foul on her tongue— declared those who were seeking to be his sworn shield to step forward and present themselves, Laken was busy ruminating about how loss of the kingdom would come rather fast.

"Your Grace!"

A bold voice boomed across the throne room. One of the twin lions.

"It is an honor to be graced with your presence. My condolences for your loss. I am Sir Adrian, the First twin lion of House Anderclair and justly named your Father's Champion in all manners of jousting. I've made a man go blind in both eyes and knocked the wind out of his chest for days. I've been on the battlefield more times than I can count, slashed the enemy's neck so swiftly, he gurgled and drowned in his own pool of dark red blood."

"My legs were almost removed from arrows that pierced me deep near my veins, were it not for a doctor recognizing how lucky I was to not be struck in the arteries and a proficient mage rendering me salvation. Terrible scars remain, but I remind myself that I have lived and sacrificed for your father, and I will continue to live and sacrifice for you as well, Your Grace. None can defeat the pride I feel for my country. It would be an honor to serve you."

The room was silent for a moment before the seneschal responded.

"Sir Adrian, First twin lion of House Anderclair and the late King's Champion, has spoken."

The crowd went wild and the Sly Golden Fox was next. He was far more pompous than Sir Adrian, exaggerating his feats of heading straight into enemy camp one night and killing a lieutenant directly on the floor of his tent while he was fucking a whore. Laken felt goosebumps crawl on her shoulders. She'd never enjoyed working directly with James; he was far too blunt and crass. She could only hope the rest of the men had their heads on straight.

Most importantly, out of the entire ceremony, she vaguely hoped His Majesty had his head on straight for being sick all the time. The decisions their king made would not only affect himself, but everyone he ruled over. Each man told of his tale in brief, but to the point summaries. Once they reached the end, Laken was already somewhat out of touch with the event. Twelve men had been proud enough to step forward, twelve men were eager to become his sworn shield, and if anything, she vainly hoped he picked Michael, the Lord of Smallguard. The man was tactful in his speech and eloquent in such a manner that his simple speech hadn't sounded like he'd hacked a man's face off for the sake of finding pleasure in the violence.

Laken's fingers drummed in silence against the arm of the wooden bench as anticipation and tension built up in the crowd. She could hear men biting their nails and women ruffling their skirts as they grimaced and held their breath. If it was Laken's decision, she would outright denounce the young boy as sick and unfit to be a king. She'd seek for his uncle to take over instead, until he became well again. Laken had no say in any matters though.

"All men have spoken. The crowd awaits your decision, Your Grace."

 

[ze_kraken]

After the fifth or sixth man to step forward, all their stories began to merge just as their sigils had. Garrett struggled to tell eagles from owls and elk from wolves by the time all had presented their case, each attempting to boisterously outdo one another by simultaneously being both more humble and more of a braggart than the man that came before him. Were all fighting men really so similar, Garrett wondered. Their stories varied in specifics, to be sure, but they all spoke of violent men doing violent things and attempting to portray them as anything other than violent. They conjured images of heroism and duty, mercy and honor, art and expertise. Their charms were lost on Garrett, who could hardly tell an arming sword from a broadsword.

An ability to make such a distinction that I'm sure makes me less of a man to these lot, Garrett reflected as he donned his politician's masque and smiled to the crowd.

"You all have my thanks," he said after a brief pause to collect his thoughts, his voice still cracking on the last word.

Slower. He heard his father's voice echoing as he cleared his throat. With deliberation.

"All of you who have come before me have shown not only great courage upon the battlefield, but a different sort of courage in presenting yourself so before a king. I would be lucky to have any number among you as my sworn shield."

He could reach the impatience in the men's faces as he looked down at them. Men of action, they were, not words - and Garrett had made an art of shortening the tempers of such men, that he knew.

"Though all of you are tried and true warriors in your own right, I must choose Sir Adrian. Not only has he been a steadfast ally to my family, but my late father always considered him a trusted friend and adviser. I am not one for strength at arms, that much is known, but I trust the conviction and temperament of Sir Adrian. His is as true a steel as you will come by."

Even as he spoke, Garrett saw that he had made enemies of those in the crowd of knights and warriors as they all bowed and went through the motions of homage. Lingering glares, looks of confusion, and faces dumbstruck in the shattered assurance of their status as the only man fit for the task all washed over Garrett as he gestured that the men stood. He would soon have to consult his few courtier allies and friends to ascertain why he had chosen poorly, but something caught his attention even as Sir Adrian stood before the throne going about thanking the king for such an honor. More empty words.

"-and so, though I may be an aged knight, I will serve you as ably as I once served your father. Him and I were brought up together, and I remember that he was want to remind me that though he was king, I was still allowed to strike him in the training yard. I truly regret his passing, though I know that he died a true warrior. Unafraid, even in the end, of one permitted to strike him."

Garrett smiled at the knight, ignoring the fact it had been a stray crossbow bolt that had slain his late father and not some honorable warrior as Sir Adrian seemed to suggest. The king opened his mouth to speak, only to find himself interrupted as the old knight blabbered on. Garrett's eyes began to wander, catching a glimpse of color among the back row of the court. A hooded person, a woman, by his guess.

"-I will fulfill the duties as expected of me a-"

"I have no doubt of your prowess and dedication, Sir Adrian, and I look forward to having not only your sword but your mind as well," Garrett interjected, knowing full well the knight had more to say. "My many thanks, sir."

The knight stumbled back, nodded, and cleared along with the other fighting men back into the crowd. Before the seneschal could list the next item to be discussed, Garrett raised a hand.

"You there," he called out to the crowd, pointing to the rear left corner. "In the hood, step forward. I would know who comes dressed so to court, I find it intriguing."

He could feel the eyes of those with concerns to bring before the king searing into him as they parted to allow the stranger forward.

Let them, he scoffed to himself, and for a moment he even forgot the weight of the crown and the pain of the throne...

 

[junebug]

The sickly boy's words were directed towards her. She thought his daring statement was odd, a bit droll, but in all reality, it was annoying. She snorted under her hood before standing up and walking around the back of the bench towards the middle of the room. Laken appeared rather tall as she walked, unequivocally confident in her stature, even noted as arrogant to some. Her hood was still long though and all that could be seen was the bottom half of her face, where her cheekbones, nose, and lips rested. The mere fact that he found her attendance "intriguing" had been enough to bring a brief chortle out of her that sounded somehow wicked, yet playful.

All eyes upon her, most glaring and the very few nobles that gazed in awe, she sucked in a deep breath and approached the King's seat. She was a considerable distance away from him, as would be many if they found themselves in the boy's "kingly" presence. Laken kneeled before His Majesty, the gesture hardly genuine, but also strange for a woman. She could hear the whispers of the people; they knew who she was too, and she fed on the fears of those that immediately judged her in the eyes of the First Gods.

A danger to the city.

A danger to life itself.

She felt her skin heat up as the remarks fed her repressed rage, but cooled down just as quickly. With the essence flowing through her, she was able to focus on the moment and push aside any judgements the crowd had about her. Her skin tingled in anticipation.

"Remove your hood," the boy king stated dryly.

His posture indicated interest, shoulders leaning forward ever so slightly, his head cocked downward to inspect Laken.

"I've heard tell of Magi, but I've never had the opportunity to meet one before today, they are not so common as perhaps the commoners say," he added. "That is, if I am correct in my assumption that you are such an individual?"

She smiled and removed her hood. The crowd gasped, as if Laken had somehow appeared from thin air. There was no doubt of who she was now, not that it wasn't apparent before. An Amber Magi, but not just any Amber Magi. A woman who'd performed magical feats beyond what they thought possible, so much so that people believed her to be the truest reincarnation of Dazielle herself, whereas others were quite skeptical of the kind of woman she portrayed.

"You are correct, Your Majesty. I am Laken. I had hoped to watch in silence, but it seems you had other plans. I think many would rather see me out the door than stare in horror at how you gawk at me. To what do I owe the pleasure of your invitation?"

 

[ze_kraken]

Laken. The name echoed with a familiar ring in Garrett's ears, though try as he could, he could not quite remember where he had heard it last. From the look of his court, she was both beloved and hated. At least half seem to approve of her, Garrett thought as he resisted the urge to smile at the humor of that realization. Perhaps she should be sitting up here instead of me. Besides, he missed being Prince Wheeze.

Her tone indicated that, jesting aside, perhaps she did believe she was more fit to sit upon the throne. Garrett wracked his brain, attempting to discern just how important this woman's opinion of him was before she ceased speaking. Tone as biting as it had been, it had been said pleasantly and with all the notes of a gracious subject. A pity, Garrett mused. That made responding all the more dangerous.

"Well, Lady Laken," Garrett responded, making concerted effort to keep his tone consistent and confident. "You have my apologies for disrupting your plans so, but it strikes me I might have a bit to learn from you. A king is only as good as he is wise to accept advice from those skilled in matters he knows nothing of."

From the glances the rest of the court gave him, Garrett could tell just as many as had protested his choice of Adrian found this Laken equally abhorrent.

Nothing makes my lords happy, he dismissed the looks and scowls as he turned his attention back to Laken.

"If it is not too much to ask, perhaps we might share a brief walk around the castle? It is not often such a divisive individual enters my halls - I would like to hear your story, if it please you," Garrett added, eyeing those gathered at the court with interest. More glares, more looks of interest. He wasn't sure which was worse at this point.

"Come," he said, rising to his feet, beckoning for Laken to do the same as he addressed his seneschal. "Have those interested in a meeting with me submit a writ detailing their matter - I shall address each individually in the days to come."

His seneschal stammered, and Garrett heard the mutterings of outrage and annoyance and disappointment break out over the crowd gathered at court. He turned his attention to Laken and extended his arm to her.

"This way, my lady."

 

[junebug]

Laken was perturbed by the King's request, though it was fairly amusing that he wished for advice from her. She had no advice to give him, except to descend the throne and accept the fact that he could never rule. She smiled a little and nodded. He wouldn't hear anything worth noting from her; she was not so cooperative, especially not with the horror she'd experienced in her younger days to arrive at the state she currently was in as an amber magi. Laken stood up at His Majesty's request, wary about those around them.

She raised a brow at the offer of his arm and reluctantly took it. She was not used to men offering nor was she used to acting like a "lady" in court. It was not who she was— someone who precariously rested her hand on any gentleman's arm and played the game of fragility and vulnerability. Once Laken and the King left the room, she immediately removed her arm from his, seemingly out of disgust, not that he would understand why. Laken folded her hands in front of her and cleared her throat, head still high.

She aired the highest confidence in a state of uncertain times. Furthermore, given the uncertainty, Laken was not predisposed to give the King any information he didn't ask for, most of which would be kept close to her heart. She acted decently enough for the townspeople to tolerate her, but anything out of the ordinary and anything pertaining to the morality of acting beyond what her magi school allowed her in the city, she would be anything but tolerable. The walk heading towards the courtyard felt sort of like a one on one pity party for the poor boy.

"What is it you wish to speak to me of? I have nothing exciting to offer or give."

 

[ze_kraken]

"Oh I doubt that," Garrett replied as the two circled down a staircase through to the courtyard. "It is perhaps a blindspot in my upbringing, or else my own inattention at court, but it seems to me that the name 'Laken' has a divisive effect on a room full of nobles and commoners, and it would be wise to learn why."

The two passed into the main entrance hall of the castle, serving men and women bowing and bobbing as they went. Garrett nodded in kind, offering waves and polite gestures as he walked. He kept his distance from Laken, suspecting the woman had not taken kindly to his gesture earlier of walking arm in arm as was often custom.

Curious indeed, he thought as they exited the entrance hall and entered the courtyard. Spring had just sprung, and the air was pleasantly warm in the morning sun compared to where the wind had been howling above during Garrett's brisk walk from his chambers to the throne room. Just to their right, flowers lay in bloom by the castle's meager gardens and the trees had been born anew with lush, green leaves.

"So," Garrett said, veering off to a path leading into the gardens and away from where men drilled in the yard. "Tell me, Lady Laken, who are you? And why haven't I heard of you before?"

 

[junebug]

Laken held back a derisive snort. If she was his mother, she'd certainly give him a mouthful about his blindspots. The kid openly displayed his weaknesses, he acted as if he hadn't heard of her. She could turn him into ashes right then and there. She smiled a little at the silly predicament the king decided to put himself in. He was talking to someone who the general population feared and hated. Laken had no reason to share anything about her, let alone why the boy hadn't heard of her before. Perhaps it really was due to his own inattention in court.

The bottom of her boots moved sharp against the concrete as she turned to face the male everyone seemed to have high hopes for. Her eyes studied him from head to toe. His curiosity was palpable, but so was his complete inadequacy in handling the affairs of his people. She had to be simple and to the point, neither giving away too little information for him to dwell on, nor too much information. As his father despised her, she had no doubt that once Garrett learned of who she was- even the tiniest bits- he would despise her as well.

"Since you are so well-read for a king, I want to be clear. You haven't heard of me before because everyone fears me and doesn't talk about me for that very reason. Your father did not have an inkling of why he should care about the people when they are frightened of a woman who knows more than most. I'm not one to be trifled with, so perhaps it was your own inattention at court today that brought you here, worrying about someone you don't know. Perhaps your father did not teach you any better about who I was. Why is that?"

 

[ze_kraken]

"I have a lurking suspicion that you are keeping something from me, Lady Laken," Garrett stated plainly as the pair ventured deeper into the gardens.

The gardens of Bitterkeep - Garrett's family castle - were not much to look at. Though the trees were still in bloom with the dawn of spring still at hand, and the flowers trailing softly in the wind underfoot, they were pitifully small. Bitterkeep had been built to last a thousand generations against wind and rain and siege, but such as it was that when a military fortress became the domicile of a king and his court that such amenities must be added. The gardeners and keepers of the castle had done their best, but Garrett always felt a greater fondness for those gardens he had read about in books. Ones with sprawling oaks dozens of years old, exotic plants from faraway lands, and well-kept decor.

His feet crunched under ill-kept gravel and he was reminded, as he heard the clash of swords in the distance, that Bitterkeep was not the castle of his childhood stories and not all kings were so fortunate to be born in Kingspyre to the east. Those eastern kings had far more pressing matters to deal with, he thought as he cast a glance at Laken, and yet here he was making a fool of himself with one magic user whose name he ought to know.

"But I digress," he continued. "My father had more interest in teaching my brothers to fight and ride than teaching me of all potential threats, though I must say I'm sure my own distaste for wielding steel played a part in that decision. My mind was better kept for books, and forgive me my lady, but it appears there have yet to be any written about you."

 

[junebug]

His seemingly pointless mockery began to build a heat within her. It was not that she cared about being in books for royals- no, she absolutely despised being known at all- but the fact that he was inept at understanding that she would not simply share her "story", as he liked to call it. It was far from comfortable to share anything in regards to her past or as he asked, "Who are you", in the name of trying to find out her identity so he could decide whether or not to trust her wholeheartedly. Well, she wasn't going to allow him a simple seal of approval.

"I like playing in the dark," she responded curtly. "No sense in vying for popularity amongst the people, as you so bravely do by taking your time away from them to ask questions about someone you're suspicious of. I practice magic, what more do you want me to share? If anything, I believe it is in your best interest to leave me right now and tend to the anger and upset of the nobles who despise me. I'm dangerous, Your Majesty. No one would dare be caught with me, especially not like this. Leave and we shall go our separate ways."

Laken prayed he would take his leave right then and there. She prayed he would quit pestering her and simply leave her be. The nobles would share with him exactly who she was, albeit false depictions, exaggerations, and rumors among them. Most viewed her as some kind of monster, a fiend, really, for having access to such great and higher power than most. She was Dazielle in their eyes, the sorceress who was able to control the essence with or without ease, and cast destruction of great lengths, if strong emotions fueled her and she intended for it to be done.

She was dangerous. That was the only explanation needed for him to go, or at least she hoped it was.

 

[ze_kraken]

"If you upset my lords and ladies of the court, then perhaps we are more alike than you might think," Garrett said with a raspy laugh that degraded into a series of coughs.

As he recovered, Garrett continued. "Regardless, what lurks in the dark should be brought to light - dangerous though you might be, that's all the more reason to know who you are, without the bias and rhetoric of the court. If a lord's opinion were worth a silver, ah, well, suppose these gardens would be a great deal grander."

He paused before a large, gnarled oak that had been in the keep for as long as he or his father had been able to remember. Memories of climbing that tree, short of breath on his stunted lungs, filled his head as his mind drifted from Laken to the gardens once more. Garrett laid a single hand on the oak's heart - a wheeling knot of bark, from which a single leaf sprouted. Would that he were the oak, not the leaf, he thought bitterly as he glanced over his shoulder to Laken.

"Tell me, Laken, do you find yourself in the service of any liege?" He asked. "I've gathered you care not for me and I'm certain you've left some of your more choice insults for yourself, but I find you're a good deal more honest than my lords are want to be. There would be a place for you here, I think."

He spared the leaf a parting look and turned his back to it.

"A foolish king, and his hated mage companion, might make for a fitting story," he remarked.

 

[junebug]

Pride welled up in her chest at the king's statement that quickly evolved into a coughing fit. She smiled a little, eager to bless him, but thought better of it. The king seemed entranced into the gardens, wandering aimlessly from time to time, as if he were cherishing a memory or trying to reach one. Laken stood where she was, hands firmly clasped together behind her back, as if she were in some kind of chain of command within the king's army. Her head tilted slightly as he looked back at her from an oak tree he'd stopped to admire.

Her chest puffed immediately and her brows narrowed at his words. Her? In the service of him? Absolutely not. She technically wasn't even in service of the magic schools, although she still donned the attire to make it appear so. The king was a mad man. How could he so sure that there would be a place for her in his service? What did he have to offer? The kingdom was already a disgrace to be a part of... How could he fix it? He was sick, bloody sick, and people would take advantage of that. She felt a lump rise in her throat and she took a deep breath, fighting the effort to pin him to the tree.

"I believe you're making a mistake, Your Majesty," Laken stated in a cool tone, another effort to ward him off. "The country's defenses are weak and you are clearly struggling. To seek out a magi for whatever reasons you may have without knowing what's she's capable of..." She took a deep pause and let the sentence linger for a moment before continuing. "In these unprecedented times, that kind of move is reckless and unheard of. What makes you think I would have a place here instead of nowhere else? What proof of benefit do you have that you feel would make me stay and be of service to you?"

 

[ze_kraken]

A mistake, yes, Garrett thought to himself. Everything is a mistake.

"Aye, every word of what you just said is true," the young king agreed. "Our army is shattered. My father is dead. I am of piss-poor health, and I've no reason to believe the words you say to be true or if you are just some charlatan. Though I rarely find that particularly well-known charlatans and con artists - more than the garden variety that flourish at court, anyways - survive long. It seems unlikely to me that on reputation and fabricated deeds alone you are somehow hated and yet can still draw breath, and could walk into my halls unimpeded such as you did."

He paused, then, looking Laken over with what he believed to be an inquisitive gaze but was more of a half-squint than anything else.

"Reckless it might be to accept such a person into my administration, that much is also true," he continued, boots crunching in the earth as he stepped to within arm's reach of Laken. "I find it unlikely I'll live out the year before some conspirator drives a knife in me, one of my brothers takes to calling himself king, or one of my many neighbors calls his banners to finish what my father unwittingly started by shattering his own host against the walls of the Iron Lords to the north. So, Lady Laken, I find no reason to not take such risks - I either find help where I can, or will perish and drown my kingdom in needless bloodshed.

"You say I have no way of knowing if you possess the powers you do, but I find it odd that one would speak to a king such as you have without fear of reprisal - might be you think so little of me, or you know what little threat my guards pose you now that the gates are within sight and you could kill me, whatever men might chase you, steal a horse and be on your way with none the wiser. They might even rejoice your coming - the one that killed the sick, little King Wheeze and spared his kingdom a good deal of suffering. But a king I still am, and one that will see to it that what needs you might have are met. Ours is a meager land, this much is known, but we are rich in grain and timber and iron. Whatever you ask of me in return for your companionship, counsel, and service shall be granted so long as it is in my power to do so."

 

[junebug]

Laken was impressed, needless to say. The boy had some wits about him and he was extremely eloquent in his speech, as well as quick to capitalize on his faults— not that it was good to do so. He had humility to him though, which was somewhat endearing. It would be worth pushing the little king— King "Wheeze", as he so hilariously defined himself— to the edge, beyond his comfort, and prove what little strength he believed he had to go beyond what he thought he had in himself.

She could hardly imagine that King Wheeze would be willing to grant her favors and needs she wanted to be met. Laken hadn't necessarily thought about what she wanted from King Wheeze. She didn't even think she was ready to lay out terms, but the gall he had to question her despite her claims said a lot about him more than most. He wasn't frightened by her, not like his dumb subjects were. Laken could give him that.

"Everything is within your power, Your Majesty. Everything. Anyone who says otherwise is trying to undermine you because you are sickly," Laken responded in a beat. "You've impressed me, I will say. You've a tongue for politics, though you are greatly lacking in other matters. I want you to free me from service to the College of Magi and allow me to learn under Grand Vizir Silas within the castle. Grand Vizir Silas will also be freed from the College of Magi as well, regardless of whether or not he is currently teaching other pupils. I want him to teach me how to become a gold magi, no one else. Our scholarly teachings will be secret, hidden from the rest of your people and those in service to you at this castle. No one will know, with the exception of yourself."

Laken was steady in making her first demand swift and easy to digest. She wished to be placed under a new position that Garrett would create, other than "Hated Magi Companion" which was hardly that of a serious nature. Furthermore, given she was now under His Majesty's line of service, her second demand was that he had a bedroom for her with a wash area attached. It did not matter how opulent or grand the room was, so long as she didn't live in uncomfortable living quarters akin to what the servants had to bear everyday.

"I also would like to speak to Sir Adrian, the one you knighted. I don't fear death, Your Majesty, and as such, it is my responsibility to follow the tasks you set forth on me as magi moving forward."

 

[ze_kraken]

"I suppose you care not for the implications of learning from a non college-sanctioned magi," Garrett said. "You'll never be able to call yourself a Gold Magi proper, but then I've seen already titles mean nothing to do you, nor do I think one that lurks from the shadows would care if their recognition stemmed from such a title, besides. So it will be - I'll speak with Silas on the morrow and free him from his oaths. Old lout has been wanting to stop traveling to Vinlas for some time, anyways - complains of sores from riding on horseback, befitting of a man of nearly fifty winters. If the College comes asking questions, I suppose my reign will be cut even shorter but I doubt they'll miss him. He is old, and a ceremonious addition on their council besides.

"There are chambers along my wing of the castle that should serve your purposes well. The court has eyes everywhere, even among my own attendants, so you'll be limited to work with what Silas can provide you and what you can bring along. I can clear the wing of servants and passersby, and post a handful of my brother's men along the entrance. They're no more liable to fall to bribery than others and let loose their tongue for the right price, so it will have to be such that you take the servant's entrance in the rear of the castle."

The king then gestured to Laken's attire.

"Which might mean dressing less, well, magely for your sessions with Silas. Elsewise, I'm afraid this castle is small, and rumors run apace quickly."

Garrett remembered the rumors of his affair with the Lady Elemar - herself a woman of 40 and married to the vice count of the Rock besides, it made no matter. All that from a single conversation, and Laken's presence at court and learning from Silas was a far more believable rumor. He supposed that made it less attractive to spread among those at court - but there was the matter of Laken's reputation, and the fact that though outlandish rumors spread faster, real ones landed on more dangerous ears.

Garrett cast the thought aside furrowed his brow at Laken's second request, resting thumb and forefinger along his sharply pronounced, some might call emaciated, chin.

"I'll grant you audience with Sir Adrian as well, though I must ask - what use is it speaking to an old knight?"

 

[junebug]

Laken was pleased that the king would heed her requests. He seemed to catch onto her character, particularly with the notion that although she wanted to become a "gold magi", she was not interested in the title or the benefits of being part of a magi school. His Majesty was amusing, to say the least. For his reign to be cut shorter, who knew what would happen? Laken smiled and ran her fingers through her hair as he addressed her attire. She did not mind dressing less "magely"— the fabrics and patterns she currently wore were not her style anyhow— and the presence of dressing differently would lend to an interesting experience among others. How would people view her if she were to not dress as "loud" as she was?

Furthermore, how would she create allies with her presence being that of a person who served the king, not the college of magi? The mere thought turned cogs in her head to try and discern what everything meant. Laken was not surprised by His Majesty's inquisitive nature regarding her upcoming audience with Sir Adrian. Sir Adrian would likely be just as curious about why she'd request an audience because even though he'd met a mage before, he likely didn't remember her from the day she'd saved him because she'd made certain he did not remember anything but a mage and a doctor saving his life, mostly her though.

"If you are curious about that, I must ask then, what use is it not requesting an audience with a person I'm likely to see more often now? Surely, you must've recognized by now that strong relationships in court are what brings you victory and freedom. I can't imagine walking around without knowing who your kingsguard is," she explained.

"You need allies, Your Majesty, and you need to weed out those who are not as genuine as they say they are. I can say that Sir Adrian is an honorable man and I wish to speak to him on that account. Surely, he was just as shocked as everyone else at seeing me arrive unannounced before you requested we walk and talk alone. I wish to mend any differences Sir Adrian and I may have. I have no doubt he will be a valuable asset to your rule, but only if you allow me the chance to speak with him alone and discern where his current loyalties lie."

 

[ze_kraken]

"That speaks nothing of where your loyalties lie," Garrett retorted. "Though aye, I suppose the ink is dry - would I take back my word now, well."

He looked Laken up and down, a half-amused smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Though you carry no blade I've no doubt you have ways of ending me here and now for turning back on my word. Right, then - I have my tasks, expect to have quarters given to you in the castle's residency by sunset. In the meanwhile, feel free to wander throughout the castle as you deem fit. I'll see to it that none get in your way, though I imagine most would not wish to do so anyways."

Garrett trod down the path back towards the castle, stopping by one of the guards standing watch by the main doors. He was a stout man, dressed head to toe in gleaming steel and clutched a spear in one hand and a round shield embossed with a lion's head in the other. Not one of his own, Garrett thought as he wracked his brain for the man's name.

"Good day, sir Gerey," he said, recalling at just the right moment the man's name. "See to it that news of Lady Laken's arrival into this castle is spread to the other guards and that she is to be given free access to the castle."

He saw the flicker of uncertainty behind the man's eyes as he spoke, but the knight agreed readily enough. Garrett was sure the man resented standing watch as a mere sentry, but the duty was his when court was in session. That reminded Garrett that perhaps it would be best to avoid the main hall for fear of encountering upset and nagging nobles, and so he veered back to the exit he and Laken had taken and rounded up the stairs. He was winded by the time he arrived at the top, weak lungs struggling at the strain. Garrett paused for a moment, leaning upon the cool stone wall to his right before rallying himself and venturing from the rear stair entrance to Silas' chambers.

As expected, the aged magi sat at his desk, quill in hand scribbling away. Garrett cleared his throat at the doorway to get the man's attention. When the aged magi did not respond to the signal, Garrett opted instead to speak.

"Master Silas?"

The old man cocked his head and peered over to where Garrett stood in the doorway. His face was beginning to sag, his hair already reduced to grey wisps. A patchy grey beard lined his face, and his teeth looked like crumbling tombstones as he flashed a quick grin to the king. When he spoke, it was with a hint of a lisp, his words dragging along on his stutters.

"Ah your Grace," he said, bobbing his head up and down in what Garrett believed to be his approximation of a bow. "To what do I owe this pleasure upon this fine spring day?"

As if you had stepped outside to bask in it, Garrett mused.

"Ah, I was wondering if we might speak a moment," the king said, adopting his best politician's masque as he quietly shut the door behind him. "You are due to ride to the Palace of the Magi in six weeks' time, are you not?"

"It is so," the old mage confirmed with a nod of his head. "Why do you ask?"

"If I recall, your last trip was quite miserable, took you far longer than you had hoped," Garrett said. "And I was wondering if not you, perhaps there is another we could send in your stead this year. You are a man of quite some age, and I believe your talents are better suited elsewhere in simpler, less-intensive work. Would you not agree?"

"I would prefer if you speak plainly, your Grace, I have found in my old age I have less and less time for quandaries of the court and baseless pleasantries," Silas said flatly. "Your concern for my health, were it legitimate - and I imagine it less so, had you ordained to meet with me more than when you are in need of aid - would be welcome, but I sense something else is afoot."

"Ah, right - I have a new task for you," Garrett said, internally flinching at the old man's sudden change of demeanor. "Lady Laken has arrived in court, and I have decided it best if you dedicate your time to teaching her and be free of your bound of duty to the Palace of the Magi. You are welcome to return to the Palace, though I would remind you that you are an old man and of poor wealth. Perhaps you live out the year before the cost of board in the Palace runs you dry - and no other lord or king would dare take an old man into their employ when every year there are younger men to snatch into their service."

"Teach her?" Silas protested, crossing his arms tight across his chest. "What do you take me for?"

"Your Grace," Garrett corrected - respected or not, a king he still was. "And I take you for a loyal servant of this kingdom, lest I remind you that should you choose to kill me the Lady Laken might have a word or two to share with you over my corpse."

Curious how my own mortality has become such a prominent discussion point in the span of not even half a day, he thought ruefully.

"I'll come with more news of the arrangement on the morrow, but prepare to teach her as you would any other Gold Magi," Garrett said, leaving Silas fuming in his chambers....