I am on my way to see you, brawd. Meet me in my chambers - hopefully the dust won't send up a smoke signal to duw...
     No hello, how are you, no just materializing out of shadows. Just a cryptic message from your twin brother - and no explanations but resounding silence. The shadows do part, in those rooms, the dust kicked aside if there is any, and opulent fruits and feasts, wine and meads spread across the tables. If any conversation is going to need something to soften the impact, it's going to be this one.
     Gwilym remains standing, eyeing his two younger brothers. "We come together and we leave together," he promises. "No one will remain involuntarily."

     At the Holly King's shoulders, behind him, the Rooks themselves. They are silent as they materialize, shadows like wings flapping around them and then dissolving.
     This is a surprise... certainly... I am on my way...
     The apartments of his brother are not far from his own. It was by design, so that his twin may not be parted from him anymore than was absolutely necessary. They have not been occupied consistently since. He knew it was too good to be true. It is, therefore, only a handful of minutes before the High King is visible, his evening robes on, his feet bare, his hair damp from a recent shower.
     But his brother is not alone. There is a look to his other brothers. I didn't dress for a party.
     "Brawd. Bran," he says a moment later, acknowledging him, "Aeron," and him. If he is upset with seeing the banished Bran, there is no sign of it. "Do I need to sit for this conversation?" Iowerth wonders quietly. He looks to each of them in turn and then, with expectation on his face, he turns to take a seat.

     "You might want to, oes," Gwilym answers easily. "We've come to set things straight." He motions in invitation; it is your castle, king, but it is his suite. The invitation is valid. "Things have been ... neglected too long, and the way of things have begun to slide off kilter. My work is being affected. Your work is being affected. Our brothers are affected, and your children are certainly affected. And if we don't want things to spiral downwards in a hurry ... it is up to us to fix them."
     I know this is a surprise, brawd. But it is needed, or I wouldn't be doing it. You know me well enough to give me that, oes? I promise - this isn't to make mockery.
     He moves forward, dispelling sides, lifting a bottle of wine and pouring four glasses. "First. A health to our father and mother, duw love and keep them. And keep them from popping in on us now, unannounced and all."

     Iowerth Rhudd Draig is neither dubious nor infuriated. He is curious. "I was hoping to have had this conversation before now," he mentions, with a look to Bran. "But I am glad we are having it now. I agree that it has gone on too long." He waits for his brother to bring him his glass.
     I trust you, brawd.
     "You are both talented young men," the High King begins, speaking to his younger brothers. "I am not a fool to not understand your work or the value it has to our safety, security and prosperity." Periwinkle eyes turn to Gwilym then. "I understand there has been some new disagreement," there is a question there, "...with Balthazar. It has pointed out... to me... the error in simply waiting for Bran to come forward. I should have demanded it sooner. It would have saved us some trouble. For that, I apologize."
     Aeron glances to his twin. To his supremely kingly brother, he looks last, but looks without wavering or averting attention. He says nothing but stands here, obviously, to defend his twin and his own honor.
     Bran's mouth slims, but then puckers in thought. He looks to the floor, his gaze averted from the judgement of the king. He says nothing. He waits for Gwilym's leave.

     "Balthazar's ... emotions ... have led us to be aware that there are issues which must yet be reconciled. Without them - and without the prompting of one whose eyes seem clearest of us all - we might be waiting yet, both sides of us, to figure out whose turn it is to talk." Gwilym grins slightly, then steps back to Bran, draping an arm around Bran's shoulders. You are not alone.
     "We do not want brother set against brother. We're a family, and while there are other considerations and other roles involved, in the end, none of us want to stop being family. I love all of you," Gwilym tacks on, "and if I've got to, I'd go to the wall for any of y'. But for now ... let's work things out, oes?"

     That he feels beset upon is obvious. From the arms crossed at his chest, to the slim pull of his mouth, ever-present smiles nowhere in sight, Bran is the very picture of Fine, go ahead, blame me.
     That Iowerth is largely unsympathetic to that is also clear to see, and... for him... understandable. But he exhales after a moment of that, becoming with that breath not a king but a brother. "Alright," he says, "... we should talk then. Can everybody sit and have a drink? I think we all could use one..."
     Taking a perch upon a nearby chair is Aeron, his face studiously quiet. And expressionless. He takes his cup of wine once each cup is passed, and he sips from it and waits.
     "I know I am flippant," Bran says, slumping into his chair, wine balanced on his leathered chest. "I don't mean anything by it. It's just my nature. I certainly did not mean for the... thing with Serena," he glances up to his brother high king at the mention of her name, "... to cause you political problems. I really did not think it would mean that my family would turn against me. We were ... are... in love. She wanted to run away with me. I wanted her to. And she is cherished and she is happy. I was selfish," his lips twitch. "For which I apologize. I did not think that the repercussions would be this severe..."
     "I do think he has been treated unfairly," Aeron smoothly intones. "And made too much the brunt of a family's joined fault."

     Gwilym is feeling just a bit in the middle. How does Tiernan do this? You need to give him a raise, brawd. He suggests, "There's been unfairness on both sides. We need to move past that. But oes - Bran's point of view needs to be considered. It isn't a case of the rampaging rapist, Io. I'm ... concerned as to how he's bein' seen, and how that's splashing over - onto Aeron, onto me. Our jobs may not be any harder than yours, but it will not be made easier for hostility whenever any of us come up."

     Believe me, I do not have enough money in all my treasuries to compensate Tiernan for the work he does. Iowerth looks from Aeron (wounded) to Bran (defiant) and lastly to his own twin (considerate). "No one has called him a rapist. But... I can see where... my anger has not been truly helpful. However, I will say, Bran, that your reputation is largely as you have cultivated it. From the orgies in the brothels when you were thirteen, both of you," he looks to Aeron, "... to the ... elopement," he softens upon that term, using it rather than abduction, "... with Serena. That is not something that I can make go away. Only you can do that. I will, however, have a talk with Balthazar and Gruffydd... and Anierin," he adds, "... and make certain that they know that we have put aside our differences on the matter. It will be up to you, to both of you, to cultivate the relationships with your nephews. They are young men, Balthazar only slightly younger than you. And I think he was more personally affected by this issue than... I thought. Or anticipated. I don't want there to be bad blood or spilled blood, for that matter." He looks to his twin. "I agree that we need to move past blame, Gwilym."
     Aeron looks from person to person to person. He is less defensive now, his posture easier in the chair. He looks to the contents of his cup. "I ... Bran and I... will meet with Balthazar," he notes. "I am dismayed, brother, that my nephew could hate me." His voice is chillingly emotional. It's so rare of him.
     And it gains from the High King a sympathetic look. "I don't think he hates you, Aeron. I just ... think he doesn't know you. And he doesn't trust your motivations at the moment. That is something, however, that can be repaired. But both of you are going to have to work hard to earn his trust."

     He moves to Aeron, a hand ruffling his brother's hair. There is no way that he could not be moved by it. No way even if there were not additional bonds - and there are. We will make things right. I will be here. I will not run from this. It is painful and transitional, and transitions are always difficult. But he is facing it head-on, with his family.
     "I will help however I can," Gwilym says aloud, letting his hand fall again. "I know ... Balthazar likely resents me. My work and his plans have overlap. It cannot be helped, but ... I will make myself available. If he wishes it."
     He lets his hand rest for a moment on Bran's shoulder next, with a little squeeze. I am proud of you. I know this is not easy for you. "We'll see things through, oes? Forgiveness is the first step."

     "Is eating crow cannibalism?" Bran quips with a frown.
     Iowerth smiles, "Yes, Bran. It just may be. So...look..." he sits forward, his hands clasped in between. "You're my little brother, you could be my son, and I do love you. So you can put the fork down now. I know this isn't easy. I can appreciate what it is like to let me know that you are troubled. You, who are never troubled. And you," he continues, looking to Aeron, "... usually so unaffected, affected. You are both welcome ... and I encourage you... to return to the capitol city. Your apartments are still here and waiting. Please use them. In absence... one might make up or believe anything. The only way you can combat that is by being present, by being truthful."
     Aeron turned his head to kiss his brother's wrist as he pulled away. He looks at the high king. "And... do you harbor any ill will to me for my relationship with Gwilym?" he inquires softly.
     "No," Iowerth replies. Periwinkle eyes flicker their attention to Gwilym. "I am glad he has someone to take care of him." There is a deep smile, not broad, but emotional. "And that it is someone who understands him and his power." Iowerth looks to Gwilym. "Your nephews adore you. But... yes... I think meeting with Balthazar would be good. He expressed concern that you were angry with him, his positions. He feels he may have slighted you from our conversation this morning. I think we need to just... start talking with one another, being around one another. We've all been parted... for a while now. I think we can see that hasn't been healthy for any of us."

     He reddens, shifting uncomfortably. He did not expect that to be voiced, and, wonder of wonders, it inspires a sight few have seen, if any. That of Gwilym Gwyn Garu - blushing.
     Gwilym does his best to ignore it, chin rising, shoulders squaring back. "Right. How about we have a big family dinner? Who's got plans this weekend?" Quick, misdirect. Maybe nobody will notice...

     It was seen, but is not commented upon. "I should be able to meet you in Powis. I will check with Balthazar and make certain he is available. We will... make it happen, oes?" Iowerth looks to each of you in turn, his own twin lastly. He smiles quickly and warmly.
     Bran wrinkles his nose and makes a face. "I do not need to know this shite. That's going to keep me awake at night, duw."
     Aeron grins. He tilts his head to inspect the flush against his lover's skin, where and how it blooms. How delightful dinner will be. But no more so than the coat closet.
     Finishing his drink with a swallow, Iowerth stands. "I am glad we talked. We will continue to talk, oes?" And now he is the one with a hand on Bran's shoulder. "I am sorry, Bran, for the exile. It was wrong of me." He lightly pats Bran's shoulders and turns, leaving a stunned Bran in his wake.

     "We will continue to talk," Gwilym confirms. He grins to see Bran's shock, grimacing at Aeron. Tempter. You know, this is awkward enough for me as it is, oes? My first love in the same room as my current love and both of them my brothers. Duw, I'm going to hades for sure, aren't I...
     He straightens, grinning at Iowerth as he moves to collect his ravens. "Come on, boyos," he rolls out. "Time enough for more at the weekend. For now, we've still got work to do, oes? And who knows?" He smirks. "Maybe we'll have a surprise at the weekend, at dinner, as well."
     One emerald eye closes in a wink. Go to your husband, brawd. He's earned his combat pay tonight. He bearded the Holly King in his den and won an argument with him into the bargain.

     The ravens become Rooks, perching on the Holly King's shoulders. With the opening of their beaks, comes the harmony of their cawing: Ooh, how we love surprises...
     Iowerth smirks, standing as brothers become birds. "I'm not sure I can take much surprising these days. Be gentle." He rakes a hand through drying hair, displaying its order. He deserves his rest, for certes. But I will be sure to congratulate him in the morning. And... brawd... diolch for coming and for bringing them...
     Iowerth crosses to his brother. He gives him a hug despite the presence of crows. "We will talk with Balthazar," he whispers. "He needed the check. But we do need to address his pre-judgement. Go safely, all of you," he says. "I will see you this weekend..."

     The hug is returned, with a smile. His hand comes up, to ruffle his twin's hair. I love you and you are always in my heart, brawd. No matter what else, you are still my other Self. Let us not be parted so violently any longer.
     There is emotion in his own eyes. None of you have been unscathed. "We will go safely," Gwilym replies. "We walk the shadow roads. And may duw help any creature of Chaos we may come upon."
     He does not linger, neither he nor his Rooks. He turns away, releasing the High King, and he steps into shadows and becomes One with them. Where they go, none may follow, save by his allowance. But the air is lighter, where they have been, than it had been before.

Posted by rowan at February 27, 2009 05:11 PM