How brave you are, and how brilliant. Gruffydd looks at the sleeping form of his lover and confidante as he stands in the threshold. And how my brother is struggling. If we are to struggle, we must struggle together. These thoughts are held in his mind and in his alone as he turns and softly closes the door to Arian's bedroom behind him.
     Gruffydd exhales quietly, a hand going to his curly dark hair, mussing it as he walks toward the seating area. Tanira...my wise sister. I could use your words today. Are you available? His hope, his words leave his mind and float perfumed on the air to his sister's nostrils. She shall inhale his wish like the breath of clove trees.
     He calls another service of tea, pouring a cup for himself as he takes a seat on one of the sofas. Gruffydd gives his body to the sofa as if it had arms to hold and hug him. He brings the mint tea to his mouth, smelling it for a moment, letting its scent cleanse the palate of his mind.

     There is silence; your lover does not stir. Where you move, there is only stillness. Outside, there is the quiet dripping of the rain, autumn having made its arrival definite. Then there is a slight stirring on the air, and from nowhere and anywhere, she steps forward.
     Where for Balthazar she was garbed in pale pink modernity, for you she is dressed in color and print, a snug cheomsang of black and cobalt blue alive with gold and crimson orchids. Her dark hair is still curled, but braided now, the scarlet dot on her forehead almost matching the cheomsang's print. A filmy veil is held up by its gold threads. "As it so happens," Tanira answers you calmly, voice quiet so as not to disturb the sleeper the next room over, "I am in residence today. How may I assist the future High King of these united Kingdoms?"

     "You can assist me in the sharing of tea, my sister," he says, and he rises, his teacup on the table. And he holds out his hands for you. "And what a joy to have you in residence," Gruffydd smiles, his voice as soft as yours. After hugging you in greeting, he shifts, gesturing for you to be comfortable.
     "I need help with a family matter," he sighs slightly, seeming concerned, not annoyed as he takes a seat beside you. "Advice, really, on how to reach and help Balthazar." He takes a sip of the tea, his eyes ahead upon his thoughts, his concerns.
     Lavender eyes are deep in color when they focus upon you. "Until today, I did not realize the extent to which he has been, is, struggling. Have you heard of what came to pass this mid-morning? I'm sorry," he smiles slightly, "...for starting in the middle of the tale."

     She smiles as well, although it is veiled, accepting your embrace and then moving to take a seat; she does so gracefully, ankles crossed, hands in her lap, the picture of a princess or a tasteful modern businesswoman save for her garb. And she listens in silence.
     "I have heard one side of the tale," Tanira answers you, when you ask. "I cannot say that I know all sides, nor even how many sides there truly are. It concerns Balthazar's ascension, at its heart, of course; and how ill-prepared he feels to be king."

     Perplexion ripples across the serenity of his face, disturbed by the pebbles of that revelation. "Ill prepared? He has been doing fantastic. He has only been in king energy for... I think a little over three months. Since June solstice. And he has tested for rank, is receiving his commission, a very grand commission at that, after the coronation. Everyone speaks highly of him. What is he feeling or seeing that makes him think otherwise? I am confused," Gruffydd states the obvious.
     "But," he sighs, "... he must feel ...whatever it is...sharply. To be so distressed as to threaten, or seem to threaten, Preston and then to ...detonate. This instability has me concerned for him, primarily, but also for others. Did you speak with our fathers? Did they shed any light at all on what might be feeding or stoking that insecurity?"

     "No," Tanira smiles, countering you lightly, "he is confused. And he has always been second, brother."
     Now she unfolds, picking up her tea. She blows on it gently, unhurried in her approach as she lifts it to her lips. "It does not matter that he does not want your role. He is used to considering himself not as good as you. He feels himself less brilliant than you - and he accepts that, but it means he is less than you. And he feels it keenly; he thinks himself less intelligent than you, than me, than your lover, than our fathers, than Anierin, even, most notably in the arena of politics."
     Another sip is taken. She sits up, legs crossed daintily again. The dark eyes which so often regard Balthazar benignly are even more inscrutable now. "I have not spoken with our fathers. I have not needed to. He has been informed that there are threats to his family and to his beloved which he has known nothing about and can scarce even believe exist; and thus, he cannot guard against them. He is ill-equipped; he is unequipped. How would you manage such news, big brother, in his position?"

     "I would be understandably upset," Gruffydd answers easily and evenly. And for a moment, one that most do not see, Gruffydd is simply Gruffydd; just the oldest of several children. His dimples appear as he chews on his bottom lip in thought.
     "No one has ever said he was less than anyone else. Why does he choose to believe this about himself? For one, it isn't true. Yes, he chose music and art and poetry over the diplomatic courses, but that doesn't mean he isn't brilliant." Gruffydd sighs, upset for his brother. He looks at you. Where you are hidden, he is revealed.
     "I can see whereupon receiving such reports, those insecurities could have been reinforced, yes. My sister," he says, turning to you, "... how can I help him? What would allow him to be able to reinforce the positive within himself, to tap into his tremendous internal strength. I know he has it; I have seen it first hand. What would you recommend I do for him? Surely, there must be something I can do or offer him that could assist him. "

     "He needs to get to a point of listening to others when they tell him that he is brilliant," Tanira answers you calmly. "He is disinclined to believe it; he has, it is strange to say, poor self-esteem. If we who love him tell him of it, then we are biased because we are his family. If those who do not love him tell him, then it is because they are part of the court, or otherwise want something from him. We have, thus, a closed cell, with no door and few windows. How can light get in? He must make his own light, or else explosives must be used."
     She sets her tea aside, watching you patiently. "Why," she shrugs, "there is no answer for such questions, brother. I help him when I am able because I choose to. But I am not soft and gentle, for all that I am feminine. I give him what succor I may, because I love him deeply, but I am not always certain that I am what he needs. I am a knife blade when he needs a teddy bear."

     That brings a slight smile, amused and grim all at once. "I think he can benefit from knife-blade love, personally." Gruffydd inhales deeply, holding in the air as a tonic before releasing it with a puff of his cheeks. "He needs to believe in himself. We can tell him all day long, but if he doesn't believe it, it won't have any effect. He needs... work.," Gruffydd decides. "Measurable projects where he can see his effort, the outcome, and begin to build that confidence in himself. It is there... waiting to be discovered. He is tremendous. He needs to find and hold himself in faith."
     Gruffydd looks to you after his thinking aloud. He reaches for your hand. "I think he could have no better advisor than you, no better succor. But you are a busy woman, I understand." He smiles to you. He hears things. "How can I support you in this and in other matters, my dear, wise sister?"

     She nods in echo of your proposed plan. "Work keeps many idle mischiefs at bay," Tanira agrees. "And if he is busy enough, perhaps he will have less time to draw unflattering comparisons." She permits you to take her hand, eyes large and dark and liquid and serene.
     "I am busy," she agrees. "I do not know of how you might support me save that there will be limits to how I may help him, not only for the sake of my business but for many reasons." She does not volunteer explanations, regarding you with that calm expression. "You will do your best for him; I have agreed to be a tutor for him in his political needs. One of our fathers has insisted that your lover be another. I would suggest that there be someone present between them, for the sake of all concerned."
     Of her own business, she does not speak. You have not precisely asked, and it would be a change of topic.

     "Yes, it will keep his over-active mind busy and focused. Perhaps he has suffered more by being cooped up in his recent injury than by any other thing. He has not exercised, had not much moved for four days. Balthazar is not someone who can be idle. Moreover, I think what he needs more than words is action, measurable successes to give foundation to the words. They must work in tandem, the mind and the body. Both need to sweat. Agreed."
     Gruffydd is thoughtful, quiet as he listens to you. "Not the least of which is dependence. It would do neither of you any good for you to be the patron saint of all his causes," he smiles slightly but warmly. "I think having him work with Preston is intriguing, and ...yes... I would have to have someone with them. Someone other than you, myself or Ani. I will think on that. I would want it to be someone who would not inspire intimidation or embarrassment. It needs to be a safe environment for them both." He pauses, peering serenely. "Hmm... perhaps Aeron."
     Gruffydd mulls on that a moment, but then sets it aside for later. "I do want to hear more about your business, your efforts. Would you be able to join me for lunch tomorrow? I will be meeting with Balthazar and Preston later, and Gwilym. My night is already spent before I even touch it." He grins at that, knowing full well that that is the lament of a king. "I would love to meet you on earth somewhere. I won't be able to visit there for a while after."

     "Aeron would be an excellent choice," Tanira agrees. "I think our grandmother a bit too impulsive, considering matters; and there is still too recent poor blood between Balthazar and Bran. And with our uncle being the Holly King, it is too uncertain - and by then we are running through them very quickly. There is, of course, your wife."
     The look she gives you is serene but with a hint of friendly mockery, perhaps. Yes, your wife and your lover - how might that seem? And in any other family, how might that in fact be? But she says nothing of the sort. "Certainly, I can meet you for lunch. My office in New York? Or would you prefer Paris or Dubai?" She smiles faintly. "I await your pleasure, o king."

     "Dubai," he answers easily and with a dimpled grin. "See how easy my pleasure can be?" There is laughter, gentle but dark. "Hmm...Maria would be ...interesting. Certainly capable, more than. I will speak to her about it. She is already working with Madison and Sabira," he gives you a look at that. "That may be challenge enough"
     There is only an acknowledging smile regarding Nainie. Impulsive, yes. But spot on? Usually. "It is as they say: it takes a village, hmm? For us all. I am sure that my day is coming once again where I will need a village of my own." He pauses. "Though... Maria would be a good intermediary in his sessions with Preston. She loves and cares for them both. She doesn't play favorites. She's used to managing expectations and sensitive emotions. Yes, yes... Maria is the tonic we need."
     Looking back to you, Gruffydd sets that matter aside. It is being handled; there is a plan. He is at once comforted by that. "I will see you at noon, then, Dubai time? I am looking forward to the dates and rose tea...."

     "If you insist," Tanira wrinkles her nose at you. "Why have what you can have when you are at home, big brother? But to each their own tastes." She rises to her feet, a vision in motion. "I shall lunch with you tomorrow. And Balthazar shall be taken by the reins and thus set free. As it is with all men, I suppose."
     Her expression remains bland; she gives nothing away for free. She blows you a kiss, and she turns to depart, her long braid swaying along the column of her spine. "Until tomorrow, o king among kings. Do try not to acquire any of my office staff for your own staff. It was difficult enough to train them..."

     "Now you know me," he all but purrs out as he rises to bid you farewell. "Since when have I ever played the pirate?"

     Tanira looks over her shoulder at you, a hand on her hip. Her expression is very sardonic; but she says nothing. All she does is direct a pointed look to the closed door to the bedroom.

Posted by rowan at December 01, 2009 07:49 PM