The drapes have been pulled shut, the lights off, and his armor removed and set aside. Balthazar lies on his sofa, an arm draped over his head. The flames have long ago receded from his wings and his temperament. It burned without purifying. It leaves him exhausted, rather than renewed.
     Exhausted, disappointed and hurt.
     Clothed in a pair of Egyptian cotton lounge pants, all other clothing discarded, Balthazar lies still, lies quiet, to still his mind, his heart, his soul.
     It is so quiet without her here. The thought bubbles up unintentionally, uncensored. It floats in the air, upon the current of consciousness his family sometimes shares. He is past caring...

     You sound sad, little brother.
     She is there, without asking or being asked, still dressed in her sari from earlier. Tanira quietly and efficiently tidies away your discarded clothing, pulling open drapes although only partway and cracking open windows so that the cool autumn breeze can blow away some of the funk. Even if it is just a spiritual funk, it still needs moving air.
     She does not push at you, does not prod; you might almost as well not be there, except that she returns from a trip to the bathroom with a cool, damp towel, folded, and lays it over your forehead. "She does still love you, you know," Tanira says quietly. "You haven't lost her."

     He doesn't move his arm at first. His outstretched (sprawled) leg twitches with the increase of light, but he keeps his eyes covered. The cool air is an unexpected balm. He relents with a sigh, his arm falling away from his face. The afternoon sun lands upon his features and he squints both at the light and from his headache as you place the wet towel on his forehead.
     "I know she does," Balthazar murmurs. "I love her too. I don't think she understands that." He frowns. "Her sister on the other hand? Not so much. Father even lost compassion for me today. I didn't wake up this morning saying I was going to be a villain to everyone I loved. My only thought after sunrise was making sure I came in no worse than third place in the preliminaries today. By the end of the day, I am without a girlfriend, I've lost at least one friend, and my father's done with me. How is that even possible without Mercury being in retrograde?"
     Balthazar shakes his head. "I was just trying to do the right thing. How I have ended up on the other side of that, I do not know."

     "The road to Hell is always paved with good intentions, little brother. You should realize that by now," Tanira answers you lightly. She draws the cloth down a little. "Close your eyes."
     She sits at your feet, crosslegged, pulling one of your feet into her lap as she begins to knead at your sole. "You aren't entirely without a girlfriend. I understand why you did what you did, and I even agree with it to a point, but she is seventeen and you are her first serious boyfriend ever, and the one to whom she gave her virginity. She is going to react strongly. It is part of being a girl, really; we are, after all, all of us told to hold onto that for our husbands. At least you know she was not panicking over being ruined for a marriage."
     She is calm, voice steady and unperturbed as she kneads at your instep, now. "Gillian cares for you a great deal; more than you realize, I think. She was angry and defensive of her little sister - after all, she did give you both her blessing, and if you two break up, she is the one who will bear the brunt of her mother's anger, both for the breakup and for not landing you herself. You are, after all," and she mimics an American accent, "a real, live duke!" She pats your ankle. "But it has been hard for you as well. Poor Balthazar. You have never really been entirely comfortable with women you are not related to, have you?"

     He lifts his golden head from the sofa, the rag dipping down into his eyes. He pushes it back up, peering at you. "What are you trying to say, Tanira? I have never had issues with women. I just keep to one at a time. I realize that's strange for this family..." He lies back down.
     Pulling the rag back over his eyes, he settles back on the sofa. "I should go speak to her, Maddie. Maybe I should just apologize to everyone I've seen today. And just never mind it all. Just be patient and if she only wants three children then...I make do. If she doesn't want to be a queen, maybe I don't need a queen."
     There is upset silence at the mention of Gillian. "I lost my temper with her today. I feel badly about that too. Essentially, this entire day has been one that shouldn't be recorded in the annals of time. It should be erased. I wish I had that power. I'd just ...start over. I would just kiss Maddie and tell her whatever she wanted, that would be fine. And Gillian and I would yet be friends."

     "You have always had issues with women." Tanira smiles as she counters you. "At first, none noticed you, or none who were not all too cognizant of your position, and your position relative to Gruffydd's. Then you were in love with Gillian, who was not in love with you - although now I am wondering. Too late for such wonderings, of course." She shrugs and drops your foot to take a vial from a pouch at her belt.
     "Then there was Madison, and you were uncertain what to do about her, whether you should, whether it would work." She dips a finger into the cream in the vial and begins to massage it into your foot. "And then there have been all the girls pursuing you madly when you did not wish to be pursued. And now, of course, there is Madison again. And Gillian, although not in the same way." Tanira concentrates on working some of the tension out of the ball of your foot. "Telling people whatever they want to hear is a dangerous precedent, Balthazar. As is settling for less than you ought. Madison does need time to grow a little. But having spoken with her after you left, I think it would not be amiss to send a little reassurance. It seems that in America, or in the parts of America from where they originate, spending time apart often means pursuing other people in that break. Comparison shopping, more or less. I suspect," she adds thoughtfully, "that it's a class thing. The higher classes always seem the greediest, in some ways."
     She sets your foot down and picks up the other one. "In any case, it has been a day of thorough misery all around for you, I agree. But nothing has happened which is entirely irrevocable. No one is dead. Nothing has been set on fire. Gillian is even still here, for a wonder, and has not yet left to return to Oxford. And Arian does not appear to want your head; he is too busy," she adds with a light aloofness that belies her underlying wickedness, "receiving-"

     "God ... please, merciful Allah, I do not want to hear about what they are doing to one another," he exhales. His toes flex as his feet are rubbed. "I was with other women before Gillian, good sister. I wasn't a virgin. I also haven't used courtesans or prostitutes. So, you are mistaken there. Now... love? I don't know that I was in love before Gillian, no. But I had relationships prior to Gillian. I courted girls unofficially. I had girlfriends. The West Girls were not my first, merely the hardest to maintain."
     Balthazar keeps his eyes closed. His feet lose their tension in your ministrations. Perhaps his legs and shoulders will follow suit. "Gillian said much the same thing. I will speak with her. I will have orchids sent to her room for when she wakes up. I thought I was pretty clear that I still loved her, and that I wouldn't be ...shopping around. I'm not interested in anyone else."
     Balthazar lifts his head from the sofa again, his hand lifting the rag so he may look at you. "What makes you think she was in love with me? Out of curiosity? I am sure she is here for her sister. And to see her brother. As soon as he is wearing something other than our brother." He smirks at that. No, talking about the sex lives of others is not going to be helpful. "It has nothing to do with me. But I will send her flowers tonight. And a note asking to see her so I can apologize in person. If she ever wants to see me again. I wouldn't blame her if she didn't. I was pretty cruel."

     "Mmm." Tanira smiles slightly as your feet relax. "My brother the non-virgin. I envy you in some ways," she adds with her customary lightness, "but I am not sure that I envy you this current situation. Love or no love. Roll onto your stomach."
     She rises to her knees, now, preparing to begin to work on your shoulders. "It doesn't matter how clear you think you're being when you tell someone who loves you that you want time apart from them; especially when they're seventeen. Don't you remember seventeen at all, Balthazar? That state of being constantly knotted up, wondering if one will be rejected by the universe? And Madison has chosen a career path for herself which involves being constantly in danger of rejection. I am not sure how healthy that is for her, but," she shrugs, "time will tell."
     She begins to knead your shoulders, seeking the knots in them and just under your shoulderblades, while your wings are put away. "I think that Gillian is afraid of love. She had been taught, after all, to be a trophy wife, a politician's wife, just as Madison had been taught to be the afterthought. Their parents do love them, I believe, but not everyone knows how to express love properly. And Gillian is not very good at rebellion; while she could not bring herself to give her mother what she wants, neither could she bring home a gangly rock and roll musician whose life would, moreover, require a constant series of abandonments while she stayed home pursuing her own career, the way her parents abandoned her and her brother and sister over and over again to their boarding schools. I have been thinking about it, you see." Tanira smiles slightly, even though you can't see it, amused at her own contemplations. "That does not mean that she did not like you, did not sense the potential between you. It only meant that that potential frightened her half to death, because she feared being untrue to herself."
     "I think that Nainie picks up on this more intuitively than I do," she adds thoughtfully. "She doesn't study the connections the way I have, so she rushes to conclusions that are sometimes right and sometimes wrong. She does have very sharp insights, and they are worth studying, but I prefer to tease them out and to understand their underpinnings better before I pass judgment. In any case," she shrugs, working on the muscles around the base of your neck, "who you are now probably still frightens that part of her. But it is something closer to what she could accept than Balthazar, rock star. I think she is trying very hard to keep from falling in love with anyone, because the people she loves always end up betraying her, do they not? Her parents send her away; her brother feigns indifference and nearly dies; her adored little sister attacks her vituperatively and humiliates her in front of others, out of the blue. I am glad they've made up. I hope that it lasts. Would you like me to do Madison next?"
     Her mischief is kept to a low ebb for your sake, but it is there. She pats the back of your head. "Flowers rarely hurt. Unless the girl is allergic. Do you want me to get you some water before I continue working on your neck?"

     Balthazar looks to you as he slowly turns over, his wings tucking against him until they dissolve in the aether. He turns his head on the cushion to cast a golden eye at you. "Do Madison and then do me," his mouth tugs slantwise.
     He has to think back to seventeen. "I don't remember being so ... I don't know what you call it other than extreme. When I was seventeen, I was focused, easy-going, habitually late to everything, just as I am now. But not so pulled this way and that way by either desire or fury. I was ...am sensitive, certainly. But I don't remember being like this." But the question isn't really about him. "But for Madison, I understand, it is different."
     Muscles, tight from a day of exertion and emotional tension, begin to give way to your ministrations. He is sensitive, even ticklish, where his wings are. His muscles there twitch, and he rolls his shoulders. You didn't hear him call for Cyril, but Cyril comes dashing in, bowing as he arrives. Balthazar doesn't open his eyes; he misses the courtesy but he can hear the air bending.
     "I would like you to deliver two messages for me, Cyril. Immediately. And they should be accompanied by two bouquets: one of royal orchids, in a variety of colors; the other, a selection of white roses and one pink..."
     "Yes, sir," Cyril says crisply. He doesn't spare a look to the massage. There is nothing noteworthy about it, really.
     "With the orchids, enclose the following note..."
     Cyril hurriedly licks his finger and is poised to write on the air...
     "... To my Lelani...I am sorry for frightening you. I love you, little orchid flower. I want to see you as soon as you will let me. Love, Baz. B-A-Z, Cyril."
     "Yes, sir..." Without commentary or question or even the appearance of curiosity, Cyril writes the love letter on the air. It becomes a note written in gold upon a white piece of parchment. "I am ready, Your Majesty, for the other..."
     Balthazar opens his visible eye, looking to his sister. "Dearest Gillian: I am so very sorry for our argument. I was cruel to a good friend, a dear friend, someone who means a lot to me. I spoke out of my pain, and I am very sorry for making my pain your problem. I beg your forgiveness for being ill-tempered and disrespectful. And mostly for not acting as a friend who does care and does love you. I would like to apologize in person tomorrow, but hope that this small gesture will let you know how truly sorry I feel. Love, Balthazar."
     Cyril scripts out the note, again without commentary. He does glance to Princess Tanira, but the glance is brief. He blushes and look back down.
     "Make sure the note to Gillian is with the roses. Mix them up, and I'll never hear the end of it."
     Cyril bows quickly. "Of course, Your Majesty. I shall do so now."
     "Thank you, Cyril..." He waits for Cyril to leave and then he sighs out long and low. "I feel better already. God, I couldn't stand the guilt. And when Gillian and I argued, I think that's what just boiled over in me. I hate that I hurt two of the girls I really care about." He smiles to you. "Present company included, of course. So... sorry for the interruption. I just couldn't bear to wait. You were speaking of Gillian. I ...hadn't thought about that, well, not in regards to me. Her being afraid to love Bran is just good common sense." He smirks at that, but then his look is serious, compassionate, sympathetic. "I took it personally. I do that. I need to work on that, my sister. Not everything is about me," Balthazar sighs out.
     He is quiet for many moments, his eyes closed to relax beneath your touch. "No, I'm fine. This was much needed, lovely Tanira. So tell me about Madison. I don't have your clear vision. I would like to learn more of what you see that I apparently do not..."

     "Well, of course it was different for you. You were a boy, and it is different for boys in any case." Tanira smiles slightly, pressing her thumbs in under the joints of your wings where they join with your back. "I could not say how different. I have never been a boy."
     She falls silent as Cyril rushes in, continuing her ministrations with calm poise. She smiles at him, and waits through your dictations and your orders, watching Cyril leave again. "You have not hurt me. But then," Tanira remarks with an aloof little smile, "I would not allow you to."
     She lifts her hands from your skin, rising to pour for you a glass of water and for herself a glass of some thin mint liqueur, returning to sit by you. "She has a roguish streak to her, Gillian West, but I do not think that she is a rebel at heart. She has much she wishes to accomplish, and the determination to remake the world if it should try to prevent her from doing so; I am unconvinced that this will pair well with Uncle Bran's work. I can see why Nainie draws the parallels she does; such energy would pair well with your work, after all. But it is not as if you and Uncle Bran could simply swap. Now, Madison."
     She falls silent, looking contemplatively into her glass, plucking idly at the spray of mint leaves she's placed in there. "...She is a sweet girl, I can see that," she says finally. "A free spirit, which is beautiful in its way. I admit to having my doubts as to whether she could be a queen, or if it would be wise to - it requires putting harness and leash on willingly, after all. It may be that as she matures that will be the direction in which she moves; I cannot say. I am, after all, no prophet. But I do not know her very well, Balthazar. She seems to me not very deep. She has been sheltered most of her life, and she has up until now seemed content to remain sheltered. It is possible that Nainie's little lecture will have forced open her eyes. I know that she loves you very much; both deeply and passionately. But it concerns me that up until now, she has literally not thought, nor had it occur to her, that if she is to stay with you, to marry you, that she would need to be a queen in more than name only, and bear you heirs accordingly. But," and she shrugs again, "there we have a more than marginal cultural difference. And there, too, the differences between her and her sister come up."
     "Her sister, after all," Tanira continues, curling up to lean over an arm of the sofa towards you, "was the one intended to marry into power, who had the trappings of such drilled into her from so early an age. A senator's wife. Dare even dream to be the wife of a future president. It is small wonder that Gillian ran to Oxford. But Madison, being an afterthought, was given no such instruction. She was left by and large to the instruction of the boarding schools she attended, where she fell again into her sister's shadow, and to a lesser degree to her grandparents, who at least appear to have seen her as individual from Gillian. I fear in some ways, Madison may be caught in a fate trap of her own making; after all, she voluntarily chose to pursue you, despite your figurative previous relationship with Gillian."
     She shrugs again, taking a sip of her drink. "I think that it would have been wiser for her not to go after you - not because of yourself, Balthazar, but because of the psychological implications. But what's done is done, and she does seem to mostly be carving out a life for herself here which is separate from her sister's - separate, but parallel. But while I do not agree with our grandmother, necessarily, I admit that I find myself sharing some of her uneasiness. I will need to meditate on it further to figure out why. After all, today is the longest amount of time I have spent in Madison's company, to date."

     "She is not deep in the same way," Balthazar says. He pushes up as you move, his shoulders rolling to feel how much looser they are than before. His soul is certainly more at ease. He is the thoughtful Sun King once more. "She has creative depth. She has the potential, I think, to be a very caring queen. She is very loving, very kind. Now, she has not applied that kindness, that depth of caring, that love outward as she will need to do as a Queen of Summer, but she does have the ...as I said earlier... raw elements of it. She's a fire spirit. And if I were seventeen with her," he says, sipping at the water and then setting it aside again, "... we could grow together. But we are further apart in years and experience than I realized at the time. And by the time I realized it... we were here, sister."
     Balthazar gives his body to the sofa, a barefoot resting on the coffee table, his toes hooking onto the edge of it. His wings outspread, stretching, even as he stretches his arms above his head, interlacing them behind his neck. "Maybe I can learn to push her." He glances to you. "Help her. I just haven't been that successful so far. I did suggest that she pursue dance as an option, something that moved her, inspired her. Where she could gain confidence." He frowns a little. "I was trying to follow advice of being open to the universe when she came into my life. And perhaps I should have insisted to her that I could not see her in that way, having loved her sister. I was the older one. I am more responsible than she. That is on me, I'm afraid. Now, all we can do is wait and see, really. For both of us."
     Folding his hands on his muscled torso, Balthazar looks to you. "So turn your clear vision on me now, sister. What is my problem?" He laughs a little, warmly, but he means what he asks. Balthazar shakes his head in thought. "Maybe I should have been an houri," he smirks.

     "You would have been no happier as an houri than I am, brother," Tanira answers lightly, sitting upright and taking another sip of her drink. "I do not know that you can introduce such a large change in your relationship all at once without creating larger problems than the ones you wish to solve. But you know her, as I say, better than I. I do think that the age difference, and the difference in where you are in your lives, is your biggest difficulty to overcome. It may be that you would be better off letting her go - but I cannot decide that for you, and it is easy for me to be hard-hearted."
     She turns her dark-eyed gaze upon you meditatively. "I do think that you would have been happier had the power of being the Sun King not fallen upon you; but there is nothing to be said or done for that. It seems to pass from father to son, and that means that the only way to be free of it entirely is for you to procreate, and wait eighteen to twenty years. An uncomfortable thing to rush into, to be sure, and there is no real 'rushing' it. Your problem is mostly that for you, everything is very personal. You lack the gift of detachment, the ability to put things to one side and look at them as if you are uninvolved, and to see how others are affected or being affected, why they come to the decisions that they do. I have it; Papa Tiernan has it. Our grandparents do not. Uncle Gwilym has it in part, I think, but I do not know how much he has it - he is mysterious by trade, after all."
     "Really, almost all of your problems stem from that. Well, that and everything has to happen, or does happen, so very quickly, with you, little brother," Tanira tells you. "You fell in love with Gillian quickly; you moved on to Madison quickly; you kept speeding up and speeding up until Nainie, more than anyone or anything else, applied the brakes. Only then did you and Madison talk for you to decide that a break was in order - at which point, you decided it right then and there, and walked out. I know that this is because of the immediacy and strength of your emotions, and in this particular case, your pain; but it does exemplify this trait. It isn't all bad; it means it is much easier for you to be yourself, without masks and without deceit or restraint to get in the way of your passions and desires and goals. I cannot do that."

     "I could never have managed chastity," Balthazar murmurs with a bit of an eyeroll. "But there are moments when I wish I had the strength of those convictions. It would make some things easier. But maybe that is only because I don't know how hard it is," he grins.
     He is meditative as he listens to you. It was not for vanity -- he would not have asked you if he wanted to hear how wonderful and beautiful and strong he is. Balthazar is quiet. "We are given what we are given for a reason," he says softly. He shrugs. "I do not know why, but now I must do Good with it. I will eventually enjoy it. I'm... already starting to a little. Not that you can tell it on the surface." He smiles, reddening at that. "But... making those islands ...albeit for her as a gift... felt good, inspiring. I think there will be more than one set of islands. It may be more like Venice, with a thousand little islands. It is still working up here," he taps his golden temple.
     He is quiet a moment more, his hand moving through his golden hair. "It is something for me to work on. Not taking everything so personally. It makes for an unhappy life. I am going to try to improve on that. I didn't like being compared so much with grandfather. I love him," he says quickly, "but you know... his stories aren't very happy. He's happy now but it too him almost a thousand years." Balthazar chuckles, eyes widening at that. "Don't tell him I told you so. I don't want to be miserable for a thousand years until I somehow manage to get it right." He sighs seriously at that. "I will try to learn a little detachment at least, even though it is not my essential nature. Still, I can learn. I will try."

     "Nainie appears to have helped him a great deal, for becoming happy. I do not know how she does it. But then, I do not understand romantic love very much. I do not trust it." Tanira's habitual lightness is in evidence, and she rises to set her glass aside. "Try. If you do not succeed, then it was not for you. There is nothing wrong with who you are, Balthazar. But you do not like, you do not enjoy, the little pretenses and social games of a court - any court. Madison... enjoys winning. She is as competitive as her sister, but has not yet found how to channel it productively, and so it still sometimes crosses into the near-malicious, in a female, feline sort of way. It just doesn't seem to last long."
     She crosses to you, lightly patting your head. "You are a good man, and you have a well-meaning mind. You are sweet to people, and you have a great deal of compassion for others. You just need to cultivate that detachment, particularly now that you are a king. Or, of course, surround yourself with those who will apply it for you."

     You always know just what to say, just the right touch to place. Balthazar marvels at you. "I do need to start building my court. It would be selfish of me to ask you to join it as my Chancellor, my Chief Advisor," he smiles. "For you have your own path to Queenship. But my volcanoes are always open for you, Tanira. I love you, sister." He turns his head to kiss your hand, the matter of his heart quelled and set aside.
     "And you, my sister, are wise and fair and loving." He holds your hand as he speaks. "We talk about me all the time. Is there anything I can do for you? Anything you wish to talk about, to say to your little brother? Thank you for...helping me and being with me today. And with Madison. I do hope for the best, but I will make the best decision for myself and for my kingdom, even if it comes at a high price."

     She is quiet; pensive, even, which is unlike her. She accepts what you say in silence, with only a faint smile of acknowledgment. "I have decided," Tanira admits finally, "to ask our fathers to put forth the word that I am officially available to be courted." She is troubled by this, clearly. But she shrugs, keeping her turbulence to where it can barely be seen, if at all. "Difficult to believe, I am sure, with all my mockery of others' heartaches, little brother, but there you have it. And you are welcome. There is no need to thank me."

     He rises, a golden tower. Your golden tower right now, and he touches your face. "No, not difficult to believe," Balthazar says quietly. "I know no person more deserving of love than you. And," he smiles, "...as Love's ambassador," he leans forward and kisses your forehead. "I wish you happiness. And that you find a partner that is deserving of you. You ... don't really have an equal." He smiles a little. "But just so long as he measures up to what you wish him to be. I wish that for you. That you find the one you want and that he finds you."
     Balthazar places a hand upon your hair as he kisses your cheek. "Now, I think you are deserving of resting, or enjoying your day however it is you wish. I wouldn't blame you if you went diving in Mexico to get away."

     "I am doubtful of finding love by committee," Tanira answers dryly. "And dubious, too, of running the gauntlet of men who could only find me with an announcement and flashing arrows over my head." She sighs, touching your cheek and then turning slowly away. "Mexico holds few attractions for me, I fear. I will go and do some of the paperwork for my various offices, I think. If I am needed, of course, you have only to send word, little brother."
     "After all," she glances demurely over her shoulder, "you will have to do without me eventually. But not yet."

Posted by rowan at January 08, 2010 03:57 PM