For years I have stood by and let them suffer, wondering if I was doing the right thing...
     He is unsure, as he was unsure then. The right thing? What is the right thing? And so while his husband sleeps and his children turn towards the gradual path of giving them grandchildren, Tiernan wakes and walks. His footsteps are quiet, and he looks out at the ocean with its starlight jewels high above it. It is a glorious view. That is one of the few things I will miss about all this. This is passing, and there is a pain to go with it, but it is a familiar pang, and not an evil one. What should be done?
     He looks to the door behind which the High King almost Emeritus is sleeping. So few more hours left. And he turns, and he approaches the door behind which the High King's wife - their wife - surely is. And he hesitates.
     It is foolish, Tiernan acknowledges, smiling a little bit to himself. But it is my kind of foolishness, I suppose. And so difficult to talk about with him, even after all these years... He allows his knuckles to brush the wood, so softly as not to wake even dreaming angels, if indeed they are dreaming.

     Past the door, there is the sound of gentle steps. The door is opened gently, quietly, with the purpose of not waking anyone -- other than the knocker -- to reveal the face of one of Zafirah's many sisters. She smiles to you and opens the door fully, bowing as she moves.
     The bed is turned down but has not yet been taken. There is the smell of rose tea and honey. And the Angel Zafirah stands before the windows, looking out upon the family's veranda and out to the sea. She smiles, turning to greet Tiernan. "My dear heart, you should be in bed," she says to you, turning and approaching him. "But I am happy to receive you." And she gives you a hug, and a kiss upon each cheek.
     Her graceful hand gestures for you to join her on the large bed, even as she mounts the small but highly decorated steps to climb beautifully onto its surface. Dressed in her white robes, she sits in the lotus position and waits to hear why you are out of bed at this hour. "Tomorrow is a big day," she opens, taking a cup of tea in her hands. "A momentous day. I am sure we are not the only ones awake. How is Our Dearest doing?"

     "I probably should be," Tiernan agrees, smiling his thanks to the houri letting him in and then to you. The hug is returned, gentle as always, and he moves to the bed to sit on its edge. "Io is handling it well. I think he is relieved, even if a little bit saddened in some ways. It will hit him more once it is done, of course."
     How well he knows his husband; your husband. Tiernan smiles tiredly, but without the pallor of exhaustion that had plagued him all too often. "But, of course, with the passing of the throne, he cannot hide behind it any longer," he acknowledges quietly. "Both him ... and his twin brother. I am troubled by that situation. I don't know what to do. You do know of it, don't you?"
     He assumes that you do, sitting there without guile in his linen and canvas. You see so much; how would you be able to fail to know of it? "They have been deceiving themselves, and running from it without resolving it, for so long..."

     "The tide is always drawn to its ebb. They cannot do without one another," she says as she sips, "...and yet, they constantly struggle. Yes, I know of it. I know of it primarily from the tide's point of view, however," she smiles a little. That would make Gwilym, Ebb. "Iowerth's only fear is losing you, Tiernan. However unlikely that may be. Anything that might hurt you, might even inconvenience you, he will not do. Even if it means that he damages himself in the process. He has spoken of it with me, over the years, in our garden gatherings."
     Zafirah looks to you and exhales with a smile. "Tell me how it is you feel about their relationship and how you feel, in general, about the situation, this stalemate." She sips at her rose tea and calmly but simply states the Truth: "He does not believe he can love you both and keep you both in his life, and you... most importantly... as his lover and husband."

     "I have less fear in me than either of them do." Tiernan smiles a little bit, looking down at his hands. "I love him, of course." That is simple to say; he has spent a lifetime loving him. "He is the first man I ever loved, and no one will ever be able to have my heart as completely as he has."
     He flushes slightly. He seldom talks about his feelings for Iowerth, and while it does not truly embarrass him, it does move through him. Lifting a hand, he pushes his hair back, looking more the youth of twenty-odd than he has in well over twenty years. "I don't really see what the difficulty is," Tiernan admits quietly. "To me, if he wishes to be with Gwilym, there is no conflict; I will be here when he comes back. You of all people know better than most how I was raised."
     There is no resentment in him, about Iowerth's desire for Gwilym or for how his childhood was spent. He has accepted the past, and accepts the future as needing no change, even with it being beyond his power to do so. "Gwilym did me several good turns," Tiernan murmurs. "He went into the thick of battle with Fiona's army in the wake of my foster mother's death at Fiona's hands - against his own mother's wishes, and risking death. He did this because he knew - knows - that Io loves me, and he would do anything for his brother. But he doesn't need to have done it directly for me, in order for me to feel indebted. He is a good man, when he lets himself be. And I know how much the separation is hurting them both." He shakes his head. "I just ... I find it so useless, Zafirah. And their pain hurts me in ways I cannot abide. I do not know what to do about it. When the children were born, when they were little, while he was King, it was easy to hide behind the issues of time and fatherhood. Easy for all of us to do, I suppose. But that is now at an end."

     "But he doesn't want to leave you," Zafirah smiles. "That is where the argument, my dearest, shall always fail. He will not leave you to be with another. Balthazar comes by his constancy very honestly through Iowerth. And until he truly believes that you will love him and remain with him, he will do nothing differently. They are stars in an orbit." Her smile is warm as she leans forward to touch your hand. "Do you know how much force is required to knock a star out of orbit?"
     Zafirah squeezes your hand and then sits back. "But even if you convinced Iowerth that he could stay and love you and love Gwilym all at the same time, there would still be the issue of convincing Gwilym. And... moreover...Gwilym's lover. Would Gwilym ever allow his own happiness? That is doubtful. And would Aeron be able to so generously open his heart to sharing the treasure he believes belongs to him? Equally doubtful."
     Sipping at her tea, she closes her eyes. "Not impossible. Merely very, very difficult. If you take on this challenge, my dearest one, you must be prepared to follow it to its end-point. And be very clear about what you wish the end result to be." Purple eyes open and shine deeply, their nebulaic colors brilliant even in low lighting. "You are far more flexible than any of the men in this family," she smiles, "...with exceptions being your sons who, thanks to you, can bend far without snapping. Gruffydd and Balthazar will thank you for that, if they have not already done so. And our sweet Anierin. Sweet, yet, despite the nail polish."

     "I don't know," Tiernan admits quietly. "They are all so stubborn. And yes, inflexible. Deus." He pinches the bridge of his nose, massaging there, voice wry. "I want them to be happy. I know that with the Llewellyn men, that seems to be asking the sun and moon and stars, but ... that is what I want. And I know that as long as this is unresolved, there are limitations on that happiness, and I can't allow that."
     He smiles, but there is humility and self-effacement in it. "Gruffydd and Balthazar have already far surpassed me. Anierin will go on to do great things. I am grateful that he has not yet outgrown us." He shakes his head. "The nail polish bewilders me, but ah, well, if it makes him happy..." There are so many worse things a child can do.
     "What do you think I should do, Zafirah?"

     Zafirah smiles broadly and warmly for Anierin. "I have no doubt on our Ani. All of our children," she pauses for a moment of emotion, "...make me very proud and very happy. I adore them. That is why I will not be going so far. The Houri will stay on the Queen's Island, as Gruffydd has allowed. And I will be visiting very frequently. I thought I might meet you all in New York..."
     But back to the old matter at hand. She sighs again. "All you can do, dear heart of my heart, is to speak with Iowerth. Speak to Gwilym. Speak to Aeron. But principally, perhaps first to Gwilym. For you and he may need to broker the future together, you...the two loves, to present a path by which the Captain may sail. All he sees right now are reefs and rocks that will ruin everything he loves. If you wish to help them resolve this issue, this is the first step."

     He nods slowly. "New York will be interesting," Tiernan answers absently. "The Wests are arranging for special tickets to various events. I am not sure how well we will do at a baseball game, but at least the opera and Broadway should be, well, normal enough." For some standards of normal.
     He nods to what you say, and he smiles sadly. "I will try," Tiernan answers with quiet stoicism. "I have given too much of myself to these people to stop suddenly, now. I'll see about talking to them - but I suspect there's no point in talking to Gwilym first." He smiles ruefully. "Any conversation of that sort - how likely would you say it would be that Aeron would not be listening?"

     "I have no guarantee he's not listening now," she drolly remarks. Being with Iowerth and you all these years has rubbed off! "I am sure, however, that Gwilym can command his ravens as he wishes and will send them away if asked. Or... you could see what Aeron has to say about all of this. Certainly, he knows the situation. Perhaps he would not be so closed as I think."
     She sets aside her cup of tea, her hands folding in her lap in a prayer position. "I do share your concern, dearest one," she murmurs. "When the convenient distraction of a crown and raising children are not present, our King may struggle. I know he considers himself fortunate to have you by his side. As the one who loves you both," she smiles, "... i, too, am grateful. And I pray for your happiness."
     Zafirah bows her head in that soft admission. "That is all you can do, I fear," she says as she lifts her head. "Try. And love him."

     Tiernan sighs, a quiet exhale, and he nods, bowing his own head. He then pushes up from his seat on the edge of the bed. "Thank you, Zafirah. Always, your kindness is a blessing." He smiles, turning to head to the door.
     "Well," he adds as he reaches the door, glancing back with that same gentle smile, "it's probably for the best. If I didn't have at least one almost impossible task to tend to, I'd probably have no idea what to do with myself at all."
     His smile lingers like a wink, and then he turns and goes. He does have his work cut out for him.

Posted by rowan at May 12, 2010 08:34 PM