 It really was tiring, the whispers that went on at court when no one thought Gaiane could hear them. It was just as tiring when the whispers would immediately halt and the halls would fill with silence the moment she entered them. None of this was what she had pictured for herself; none of this was what she wanted. None of this was even supposed to happen in the first place. She agreed to marry Mordred months before things changed. She wanted to marry him because she loved him, and he loved her and that was all that should matter anyway. She wanted to bear his children and have a happy family. She wanted Loholt to have a happy, loving family. Instead, he’d lost a grandmother, uncle and cousin in a single night before he’d even had a chance to feel the love and affection Gaiane had finally felt when she’d met the royal family.
That night still haunted her. Several times, she dreamt again of the noise of battle.
It always started pleasantly: she sang quietly to herself. There was tension in the castle and even without magic, Gaiane could feel everyone on edge. The under-utilized corridor outside her rooms had been more active as things progressed, but she assumed it was a minor skirmish with pirates or thieves. It took almost no time for the dream to twist. Steel ringing against steal and the thumps of bodies hitting the floor, whispered orders and threats just beyond the door and monsters made of shadows reaching for her (although she didn’t remember them existing outside the nightmares). Always panic set in. Mordred was out there, and if the intruders’ words were anything to go on, the panic was anything but irrational. Despite the knowledge that Mordred was more capable in a fight than she was, Gaiane had tried to go to him, give him a hand in fighting whatever was happening.
And just as it had been on the fateful evening, the lock jammed. Never had it happened before, and she had broken every nail trying to get the door open, and still she sat uselessly and vulnerable in her room as chaos and death grew steadily only feet away. The dreams always ended with Mordred’s face, covered in blood and with lifeless, unblinking eyes being forced through the door when the lock clicked free, jerking her awake and shattered. Reality had been kinder. She’d sobbed in fear and panic, pacing and trying to get Pallas to tell her what was happening, but the feather dragon had refused to venture into the fray. Blood spatters did not look good on feathers. Only when the door broke open and Gaiane lurched to her feet, back to the wall and seeing only Mordred there, safe, did the panicked tears dissolve into tears of relief. It had been difficult letting him go get the castle settled once more, even with the news that Tristan, although Gaiane had not thought it possible of him, had murdered the king.
And then everything became a whirlwind of planning and activity. Things would settle sooner with a wedding, some semblance of normalcy. It hadn’t been normal and it still wasn’t, but Gaiane agreed it was what Shaman needed, and she didn’t particularly want to wait to be his. Whispers started then, accusations stemming from the speed, not waiting long enough for the world to mourn. Her thirst for power and titles were on everyone’s lips. The rush for an heir rumor was easier to brush off. Marriage and family went together, and she didn’t want to wait for another attack to begin their family.
But now the infant prince was left with a grandfather who seemed to have written their family off, a grandmother who spent almost no quality time with the baby, and an aunt. At least Morgana seemed to still be caring. That was something she hadn’t had in her own childhood, but it still wasn’t enough. Gaiane wasn’t sure if she knew what enough for Loholt would even be, but being alone wasn’t it. She tried to be as similar to Loholt as she imagined Nimue had been to her children, caring and present, but with so little interaction, she didn’t know if she was even close.
She had realized only days ago, that with the orphanage in the castle under Nimue, and even before Arthur had become king, her mother-in-law had ensured that her children and grandchildren were able to interact with their peers. Loholt had none in the castle. He was reaching an age that he should have more social interaction and play than being left to entertain himself. Besides, despite the desire to do so, the queen had never taken Nimue up on her offer to visit or spend time at the orphanage, despite continuing the patronage. It was about time she honored the request.
Gathering the baby, Gaiane headed to where her familiar resided, now in far more luxurious quarters than she’d used when Gaiane was simply Styx’s daughter living in the castle. She ignored the pre-approved schedule and the multitude of people trying to make her return to it. With arms wrapped tightly, protectively around her son, she flew onto the feather dragon’s back and away the trio went, leaving the protestations behind in a flurry of wind and feathers.
On landing in Oliford a few minutes later, with a crowd already gathering, Gaiane decided it was probably better to visit her sister-in-law first. It would be more diplomatic, of course, to meet with the mayor on arrival rather than skip that formality, but it would also give them an opportunity to talk, away from Mordred and court and all the eyes watching. They’d been family over a year already and barely knew one another anyway, whether due to schedules or Gaiane’s more shy and reserved nature.
She made her way to Morgana’s residence, allowing her familiar to soak in the admiration and attention of the other inhabitants of Oliford, and knocked at the door. As soon as it was answered, she slipped inside with a soft apology for the intrusion. Gaiane frowned then as the thought dawned on her that sin her own selfishness, he’d also never managed to offer sympathy to Morgana, who’d lost far more than she ever had.
“I’m really sorry,” she said, looking into Morgana’s eyes and taking her hand, “for everything, everyone, last year. I can’t even imagine your loss. I mean, I came so Lo could see you, and maybe meet some other children, but…” Gaiane trailed off as she realized she was making it about herself and started to ramble. She shifted Loholt into a more comfortable position as he moved about, and gave him a better view to look around. “How are you? Anything I, or we, can do?”
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