What a difference a vacation makes...
     Unhurried, the steps of the Grand Duke lead him toward the basilica's music room. It is more hall with seating and parlor with a grand collection of instruments than a simple music room. Relaxed, his fiery pinioned wings stretch out behind him, dragging the floor, flames licking harmlessly against the marble.
     He could never describe that sensation: how the cool stone feels as malleable as water against the edges of those sparking feathers or how each separate thread, each hair of down can feel its silken coolness, combining to create an overwhelming sense of touch.
     His bare feet likewise move against the coolness of the white stone as Balthazar rounds the stairway on his way upward. His thoughts are subdued. Even as his wings are unfurled, the chatter of his mind is tempered by his other senses. His hands slip into the pockets of his red cotton trousers, his white shirt silken and loose.
     His auburn hair, with touches of bronze and copper that seem like fire when he is in this form, is cut shorter, lightly mussed. Without the forelocks, without the wild tussled look of it, he seems far more angelic -- he would even without the wings. His face, beautiful, simply isn't obstructed from view.

     Tiernan has had time to relax and unwind. And, of course, to be rolled about from one end of the bed to the other; he has rested and risen, and refreshed from sleep and bathing alike, now he seeks his sons.
     Not all at once, of course...
     Down the stairs and up to the music room he goes, after the sending of the miniature horde. It was a cricket which spotted you first, to send relay back to your father by way of a finch, a tiger stalking alone along baseboards, and finally a small mechanical beetle. He knows exactly where you are.
     Tiernan pauses in the doorway, and he smiles to see you. "Balthazar," he calls quietly. How beautiful you are. It never fails to astonish him...

     Cinnamon eyes had only just stroked along, like a finger, surveying the instruments available, when they turn to the sound of his name. And the hand that had started to leave his pocket to pick up a small liuto slips back within the warm confines. But he smiles, the Grand Duke, his eyes lit with relief to have you back. "I had heard that you returned," he says with a smile. "How was your trip?"
     Sadness does not linger, simply the meditation of lessons being learned. Balthazar approaches you, his hands sliding free from the pockets of his trousers to greet you as you should be greeted. With a hug, son to father.
     "I hope I didn't worry you with the messages," his mouth twists. "One should never dump and dial..."

     "My trip was quite decent, thank you for asking." There is still some lingering concern for you in his eyes, but less than if he had not spoken to Iowerth. "I am glad that you are doing better than you had been when you first called me."
     The hug is returned, a full embrace that does not see you released quite immediately. He does release you, though, hands to your shoulders as he holds you at arm's length, studying you for signs of happiness and its absence. "Talk to me."

     Talk to me. You all invite me to speak but I don't really know what to say...
     Balthazar rolls his shoulders beneath your shoulders, his head tilting. There is Acceptance where there was hurt. But there is lingering doubt. "She decided rather suddenly that I was not what she wanted. I wasn't expecting it. For a few days I was blindsided. For a few others, angry. Tanira spoke with me and helped me release that, to not hold onto Gillian. It helped. I still feel a bit..." His mouth thins in thought. "I'm not sure. I guess a bit tentative. I did throw a bit of a pity party for myself there for about a week. Truth was, I cared for her in a way that she definitely did not for me."
     Balthazar shrugs again. "There's no real solution for it, apart from just...getting into my work. I'm trying not to ... judge all girls by her standard. That's going to be difficult, but I am trying."

     "You were caught off guard with your heart in your hand." Tiernan smiles at you, with sympathy in his eyes. He knows how that can hurt. "It is difficult. I think you are wise to let her go - you would not want her if she does not want you, and right now the bruises stinging the deepest are the ones which make you question yourself."
     He releases your shoulders, making his way to take a seat. "Every person has their own music in them. Hers was a catchy tune - mine it for what you can get out of it," Tiernan suggests, "but try to listen for the tune which echoes your own more closely. The rare and different tunes are always breathtaking, the first time we hear them, and you will want something of that for yourself no matter who you find your heart seeks, Balthazar. But you will want one which can, in the long run, harmonize with yours."

     The wings flap and then fold to dissolve at his back. He takes a seat across from you. "Did father tell you he's allowed me to take a couple of weeks off? I'm going to go to Hawaii with some friends. Actually, it was a trip that Gillian initially mentioned to me. She's not going, of course. Her friend, Loki, my drummer and ... Gwilym's mark... is going. And her sister who... for some strange reason barged into my home to apologize to me or her sister's behavior."
     Balthazar looks to you as he settles in the chair. "There were reasons not to accept but...the idea of seeing someplace new intrigues me. So I am going. Once I am back from that trip, I hope to feel... hmmm... more myself again? I feel a little...aloof to the world. Content, for now, to watch it go by."
     You see so much. You know me so well having watched me for so long, I guess. You're my da. You know... more than I do.
     "I do ... wonder... what I could have done differently. I worked really hard. Maybe that was it. Maybe one shouldn't have to work that hard. But I wanted to for her. I made up riddles, sent her on scavenger hunts, a wild goose chase... literally... and for that I got a handful of songs. Only two of which I'm keeping now. The rest sound too... self-conscious. That, and I don't want to sing about her for the rest of my life."
     He exhales, settling back in his seat. "I am not in a hurry to find it, whatever it is or was, again. I'm just don't want to close myself off either. So I am wrestling a bit with that... and with my own... abilities. Gruffydd has never been denied," Balthazar notes with the twisting of his lips. "I am probably the first in this family with that dubious honor."

     He listens to you, sympathy in his eyes, and he leans forward to place a hand on your knee. "It will rock your self-confidence, and nothing I or anyone else will say will truly convince you that you are good enough. But the only way to recover from it is to pick yourself up, and to above all else, keep trying."
     Tiernan sits up, looking wryly amused. "My son, my son," he shakes his head, "you don't know the heartaches that others have been through. You cannot measure yourself by any other experience. Your father and I pulled apart so many times, despite how much we love one another. He was uncertain of me, he found me too clingy, there were many issues we faced. And we cannot take all the credit for still being here, together; many others helped us. Finding someone is certainly the first step, but it's far from the last. This girl, Gillian, it sounds to me that it is nothing you did wrong..."
     He sits back and straightens his shoulders, smiling at you with the quiet resignation of a father whose boy is grown. "It's just that she wasn't right," Tiernan finishes. "Why not write a song for Tanira? It is not wrong to write songs for others. But they do not need all to be inspired by the same portion of the heart."

     Eyebrows knit together at the idea of crafting something for Tanira. "I don't think my heavenly sister would fit my sound too well." He smiles a little and shrugs. "I will find something else to write about eventually. I'm not very concerned. I was ... in a very inspired place with Gillian. Five to seven songs in less than a month. And... all of that energy now feels scattered. I will pull it back," he nods. "Inspiration is a funny thing. It's not something I control, certainly. It's like a chemical reaction. When it reacts just right, fireworks."
     He remains unconvinced about Gruffydd, and you see that quite easily. It isn't envy, precisely. But there is a rivalry, however cordial. "I know I should not make comparisons," Balthazar says. "It isn't really a road to peace of mind." But...
     The But goes unspoken. Sitting back with an audible exhalation, Balthazar shrugs. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. In a few weeks, I'm sure I'll feel differently. I'm going to spend the holiday resting and writing and we'll see, I guess."

     "You will find something that inspires you," Tiernan predicts with a small smile. "Sooner than you are prepared to believe." I can see it hovering. You may not believe it now, but it will strike you, reluctant as you are, my son. You will find yourself caught off guard, again, unprepared for when it strikes you to the heart. We all need to struggle with it, at least a little.
     "A vacation did wonders for me. I am sure that it will for you as well," Tiernan murmurs. He stands, moving to ruffle your hair and one wing with a faint smile. "I would like it if you call me while you are there, if you are willing."

     "You and Uncle Gwilym appear to be of one mind on this. It rather sounds like a warning rather than reassurance," Balthazar pulls out, his tone as wry in this moment as his father's. "I will be sure to call or write you in any case. The device you provided has worked wonders, actually. I use it now for everything."
     He is reluctant and aloof. There is a wariness that has settled over him even at the mere mention of impeding inspiration. He changes the subject with the deftness of Gwilym's sleight of hand.
     "You do look rather refreshed. Father missed you. It was good to spend so much time with him, but it was pretty obvious that he missed you. We all did. I'm glad you're well rested and back. You have trained us all well. We were able to step in for one another in your absence."

     He smiles at you with the tolerance of recognizing a diversion when he hears one. "I am glad that you and your uncle are getting on so well," Tiernan tells you. Yes, I hear him in that reply. But it is good for you to develop some additional ways of coping. "I am glad to be home, certes. It was invigorating..."
     He is quiet for a moment, watching you with a gentle smile. "Has Iowerth told you that we are setting the date?"

     He knows you're looking at him in that way -- the way that says: Son, I know what's bothering you. Balthazar nods. "He is helping me a great deal, actually. He has pretty sound advice. Mostly. I haven't started working directly with Bran yet. I'm not quite ready for that."
     Remembered fire flashes behind his eyes...
     But as you speak of dates, your son lifts his head and sits forward as if to listen more carefully. "The date? For Gruffydd's ascension?" He's not sure what other date could be so significant, since you are already married. "How... soon?"

     "We are thinking this summer."
     That soon. Tiernan watches you with that same sympathy, quiet and loving. He smoothes your hair back from your forehead. "We would like you to be there for it, of course. But we will see how things go, yes? Is there anything you would like, or need, from either of us - do let me know."
     It is heavy, your life, your burden. You will struggle under it, and you get that from me. I wish I could carry it for you...
     Balthazar is just...stunned. That soon? He blinks and looks a little shocked. "I will be here, of course," he notes. "Where will you be staying? Have you decided?" For former kings do not get to stay in the capitol city. For all he knows, you could choose to live on another plane of reality and he might not see you again. Or at least for a long time.
     "This is... well, it's not unexpected. I know you were thinking of it. But I just wasn't expecting it to be right now." And for the second time in a month, he stares across the table at a person delivering unexpected news and he blinks, at a loss for words.
     He tongue is in a knot. It takes extreme concentration to speak through that. "I'm happy for you, of course. I know you and father have been working very diligently to prepare for it. I just didn't think it would be so soon. No, I ... can't imagine what I would need..."

     "We will always be close to where you can find us." He addresses your fears first, his hand going from your hair to your cheek in sympathetic reassurance. "I do not know where we will go. Most probably, knowing your father, we will return to the sea. He had to leave it to become High King, and it, not I, is his first love."
     A love shared with me, and never forgotten. We have both always loved the sea...
     "It is likely that we will travel - there are many old friends, dearly loved, who your father would like to see again. The Princess Maria's mother, for example. The dragons of the south, for another. We have not worked out a full itinerary. We might return to your grandmother's kingdom for a time, and it is not impossible that we may decide to spend a little time in the mortal world as well." Tiernan chuckles, tugging your hair gently. "We'll try not to cramp your style, if so, yes? I cannot imagine that you would be keen to have us showing up to all your performances. We will be nearby, Balthazar. We are not moving off. Merely ... on."

     He chuckles, shaking his head. "No... no... you are always welcome, da," Balthazar insists. "And ...I am glad you're not going off somewhere too exotic. Though, the two of you do deserve to." He laughs: "It is impossible for you to intrude. I'm way beyond trying to keep my family from popping up in my destiny. I'm 0-for-4 with the universe at the moment, so what's another few visits?"
     The laughter dissolves much as his wings did before. The only constant is Change.
     But though the laughter dissolves, it does not dissipate into sadness. "We have much to celebrate," Balthazar notes, "...and much to be thankful and grateful for...That's for certes..."

     "You are loved." He puts into words what you are uncomfortable with, and he smiles at you. "We will always be here for you, Balthazar. For as long as we can. You are and always shall be our son."
     Tiernan bends to hug you, then straightens. "Much to celebrate, and much, still, to do," your father agrees with a touch to your hair. "You will not be alone forever, my son. I am no sort of prophet, but take it from me, that one is true..."
     He smiles again, and steps back. "I will go find your father," Tiernan tells you. "I would like it very much if you would call me from Oahu, though. Tell me how things are, there. Who knows? Perhaps in time I will take your father there."
     His eyes are alight. Freedom is in sight, and he has so many ideas. So many plans...
     He turns to go set them into motion, or onto paper, at least. "I will see you at dinner," Tiernan tells you over his shoulder with an affectionate look. "Relax, and enjoy life, Balthazar. Be it however so long, it is what we have for our own."

Posted by rowan at March 27, 2009 07:55 PM