Acylius/Aelia: Kisses (lover100 Prompt #013)
TITLE: Kisses
FANDOM: Insektors
PAIRING: Acylius/Aelia
RATING: G
SUMMARY: “The sound of a kiss is not so loud as that of a cannon, but its echo lasts a good deal longer.” Oliver Wendell Holmes, Snr. (In which a scholar makes a stupid argument about the relationship between King Acylius the Peacemaker and Queen Aelia the Innovator, and Asilus is having none of it.)
WARNINGS: OCs as POV characters.
NOTES: Far future fic again. Some of you may remember Asilus and Tonans from ‘Diary’-Katherine is the third member of their trio. This is, however, in a slightly different timeline. There’s a whole series of events linked to what happened in that one that I couldn’t link to what happens in this one without focusing more on the OCs than on the Acylius/Aelia. (Believe me. I spent 2000 words trying before I realised it wasn’t going to work.)
It wasn’t unusual to hear noise coming from the apartment that Tonans shared with Asilus; it was unusual for the noise to be shouting. Katherine would have expected music-Tonans was a music teacher, after all, and when he wasn’t overseeing a student’s practice or writing his own compositions, he played his favourite pieces with a freedom that had never heard the words ‘noise complaint’. On the rare occasions that he wasn’t providing background music to the entire residence, the low rise and fall of conversation-with the occasional spike of laughter-was to be expected. Shouting? Katherine had never heard shouting from this apartment before. Even stranger, the one shouting was not Tonans.
Katherine stood outside the door, head cocked to one side, and tried to think of any time that she had heard Asilus raise his voice. She came up blank. Her cousin’s roommate was a reserved history graduate, and though he could be effusive if you happened to get him started on his favourite topic-King Acylius the Peacemaker and his wife, Queen Aelia the Innovator-his excitement tended to express itself through expansive gestures and rapid speech, rather than increasing volume.
It was a pity that the walls and door muffled the words. Katherine would very much have liked to know what Asilus was shouting about. Well, there were other ways to find out.
Katherine waited patiently for a break in the noise. When one came, she knocked as loudly as she could. Asilus shouted another two or three words, then fell silent. Another voice-Tonans-said something, and Katherine heard footsteps approaching rapidly. The door was wrenched open, and Tonans-Katherine’s beloved but irritating cousin-looked up at her. His antennae stood straight up, and a look of almost frantic relief crossed his face.
“Kathy!” he said, much too loudly. She winced, but Tonans did not lower his voice. “It’s great to have you here, come on in!” He grabbed her by the arm and almost hauled her into the house. Katherine stumbled slightly and nearly fell on top of him. It took her a moment to regain her balance.
“Tonans,” she said in a warning tone, “what-”
But Tonans wasn’t listening. “Asilus! Kathy’s here! I’m going to go ahead and leave now, okay? You guys can have some alone time! Won’t that be great?” There was a manic edge to Tonans’ voice that Katherine usually associated with someone who needed to be kept away from sharp objects, caustic chemicals and heavy machinery. She tried to back away, but he yanked her down to whisper in her ear. “I’m tapping out. He probably won’t yell at you, but whatever you do, don’t ask him about the magazine.” Straightening, he patted her arm. “Good luck.”
And he shot out the door without another word, slamming it behind him.
Katherine stared at the closed door as Tonans’ rapid footsteps died away. What in the name of the Great Prism had that been about? Hearing more measured footsteps behind her, she turned to see Asilus at the end of the hallway. He looked-to her mild relief-as confused as she felt.
“What was that about?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” said Katherine. Asilus’s wings were fluttering slightly in bewilderment, blurring the bright spiral markings on the upper halves. In his hands, he held-a magazine.
Katherine considered for a moment. On the one hand, Tonans had said not to ask about it, and he had sounded unduly panicked. Her cousin was not generally prone to panic. On the other hand, it had never been Katherine’s way to avoid a problem simply because she might be shouted at-and in all honesty, she was rather curious about what the content of the shouting would be. So she pointed at the offending object and said, “Tonans said not to ask about the magazine.”
Asilus’s mouth fell open and his antennae twitched upwards in surprise. Then he straightened, wings folding back, and his mouth set into flat line. “Well, if he found it so boring, then he should have said so.” He was probably trying to sound injured and dignified, but the impression that Katherine received was instead one of mixed irritation and embarrassment.
Katherine glanced at the door. “I don’t think he was bored.” When she looked back at Asilus, his mouth was open to say something-mostly likely a request for clarification, which Katherine did not feel comfortable supplying. So she said quickly, “What about this magazine?”
Asilus glanced down at the magazine in his hands as though he had forgotten that he was holding it, and shifted uncomfortably. “Oh-it really isn’t that interesting. Won’t you come in? You don’t have to stand by the door.”
She followed him into the lounge room and sat down on the low-backed couch. As she arranged her wings so that she wouldn’t leave shed scales on the upholstery, Asilus scuttled from one part of the room to another. Katherine watched him for a few minutes before she asked, “May I see it?”
Asilus jumped and looked over at her with wide eyes. Katherine held out her hand. Slowly, Asilus came over and placed the magazine in her hands. There were wrinkled patches on the cover where he had clutched it, and several pages lay askew, as though they had been partially torn out. Katherine smoothed the cover. The title proclaimed it to be an issue of Studies in Early Harmony History, and much of the cover was taken up with an artistic representation of the Second Bridge of Konkord. On the lower left side were a list of featured articles, and Katherine found what she was looking for almost immediately.
“‘King Acylius: Persuasive Peacemaker or Machiavellian Master?’” she read aloud.
Asilus made a sound that was almost a growl. How interesting. Katherine had never heard Asilus reduced to incoherency before.
“They missed their chance to include an exclamation mark in the title,” she noted. “So long as they were intending to titillate, they might as well have pursued their goal to its fullest extent.” She opened the periodical. As she had expected, the crooked pages were the offending article, and she skimmed the closely-packed columns of text with a critical eye. The rhetoric was just as emotional and melodramatic as the title, and Katherine felt that if she continued to read, her intelligence might actually drop. She closed the magazine again.
“That article,” she said calmly, “is a complete failure of the peer review process. It does not belong in a reputable publication; it belongs in a sensationalist rag.”
Asilus’s self-control broke, and he threw up his arms in an exasperated gesture. “I know! Their deliberate misconstruction of the treaty text alone should have meant an immediate rejection! And as for their ridiculous narrative about Acylius’s courtship of Aelia…!” He began to pace. “To begin with, it relies on the presumption that Acylius was a traditional Yuk who only pretended to prefer the Joyce culture, and that is complete nonsense. All contemporary texts agree that Acylius’s fascination with kolor, music and flowers began at a very young age, even if no one is entirely sure how he was exposed to the concept that these were positive things. They are suggesting that a child was capable of formulating an intricate, long-term scheme that placed him at odds with every single authority figure in his life, and somehow had such superb acting skills that no one ever guessed that it might be a ruse!” His voice was rising towards a shout again. Katherine settled back against the couch, fascinated. She wished for her camera; the graceful way that Asilus spun at the end of each leg of pacing deserved to be captured for posterity.
“…and there is certainly no evidence at all to support the view that the Yukdom of Queen Bakrakra was aware of Aelia’s role in the creation of different flower species, or even understood the implications of such work. Even the most cursory examination of the military and espionage reports would show that General Lukanus’s army was only concerned with Fulgor and his guitar, so the information could not possible have come from there. Of course, Lord Teknocratus demonstrated some understanding that there was more than a cosmetic difference between flower species-his redesign of the Hotsy-Totsy system to take advantage of the greater karbon content of daffodils shows that quite clearly-but there is nothing in his notes to suggest that he knew that the breeding of different species was a deliberate action as opposed to natural diversification. So to suggest that Acylius had somehow sought out Aelia because of her skills, chose her as a target because of them, is a complete fabrication with no basis in evidence at all.”
Katherine wondered whether Asilus had ever been approached about the possibility of lecturing. He was a compelling, passionate speaker, and clearly familiar with his material-and an insistence on an evidence-based approach that would be valuable to impart to future academics. She could certainly imagine him stalking up and down the stage of a lecture theatre, emphasising his points with the dramatic, sweeping gestures he was using now. A tilt of the head and a raising of an open hand to acknowledge an opponent’s potential point; a broad, slashing gesture to dismiss an improperly constructed argument…
She wished again for her camera. She wanted to record this.
“…utterly ignores the significance of the Joyce traditions that Acylius adopted. And if there is anything that demonstrates more clearly the way that the writer is ignoring whatever evidence does not fit their theory, it is this. Their argument apparently allows them to dismiss any and all records of the Joyces, since they were apparently ‘completely deceived’ by Acylius’s ‘cunning manipulation’-” Asilus’s voice dripped with contempt. “-and any Yuk record expressing disapproval of his deviant behaviour was clearly written before he took the throne and justified that deviance by ‘securing a future for the Yuk people where’-what was it that they said-” Asilus paused in his speech and flicked through the magazine to the article. Katherine watching him scan the writing with narrowed eyes, one finger running down the page to track his progress. He looked quite fierce as he hunted for the phrase he had begun to quote. When he found it, he snorted. “Oh, yes. ‘A future for the Yuk people where the preservation of Yuk technology and culture was prioritised over any Joyce influence’.” He closed the periodical again with a dismissive snap. “Complete nonsense. The author is totally ignoring…” He trailed off, eyes widening. Katherine waited patiently for him to continue, but instead Asilus groaned and put his head in his hands. The periodical that he was still holding bent one of his antennae at what looked like a very uncomfortable angle.
With a voice muffled by his hands, Asilus moaned, “I did it again.”
“Did what again?” asked Katherine.
“Went off on a tirade.” Asilus groaned again. “I’m so sorry, Katherine-you can’t possibly be interested-”
She frowned. “Please don’t tell me what I am and am not interested in. That is my decision to make.” Was that too harsh? Katherine tried to think of what Tonans would have said. Her cousin had always been far better at people than she had. After a moment’s thought, she said, “And if I hadn’t been interested, I would have said something.” That was the root of Asilus’s concern, wasn’t it? “Now, would you please tell me what Joyce tradition Acylius chose to follow that undermined Yuk culture?”
Asilus took his hands away from his face and stared at her. Katherine, suspecting that an interested audience was a comparative rarity to him, waited patiently for him to adjust his worldview. At last, he took a deep breath and said, “If you’re sure…”
“I am,” said Katherine. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have said so. She kept those words to herself. Asilus’s confidence appeared to be fragile, and she didn’t want to damage it. Tonans had suggested on more than one occasion that Asilus had a crush on her, so she hoped that he was more assured when he spoke to others.
Asilus closed his eyes for a moment as though to collect his thoughts, before he finally continued. “Acylius adopted a number of Joyce traditions that contradicted the Yuk practices of the time. Some were later reinstated-the integration of the two cultures was a long and difficult process, and most of the practical changes are attributed to his daughter and successor, Katherine the First-” He broke off with a shake of his head. “That could be a whole lecture in itself,” he said, a little ruefully. “The tradition that I was referring to was Acylius’s marriage to Aelia.”
Katherine frowned. “I thought that Aelia and Acylius were married twice,” she said, vaguely recalling some mention of the fact in her schooling. “Or at least, they conducted two ceremonies. That argues for an existing tradition of Yuk marriage.”
“Yes, but that in itself is the key,” said Asilus, excitement kindling in his voice again. “You’re right, there was an existing practice of Yuk marriage, but it hadn’t been used by the royal family for at least three centuries prior to Acylius’s rule. Yuk monarchs took consorts, rather than husbands or wives-that was why Acylius’s father wasn’t a King alongside Bakrakra’s Queen.” He began to pace again-slowly at first, then gradually gaining speed and purpose. “Yuk history, you see, was rife with examples of individuals who married into the royal family and then attempt a coup against their royal spouse. Eventually, the tradition of consorts was instated to remove any suggestion that the wife or husband of a Yuk ruler had a claim to the throne. A consort could help to produce a legitimate heir, but they held no political power. In fact, by the time Acylius was born, it was rare for a consort to have much contact with the heir at all. Acylius spent very little time with his father, Vecundus, for example-” He broke off with a cough, his pacing faltering. “And that would be another lecture,” he said, with a sheepish smile. Resuming his pacing, he went on, “In any case, to marry Aelia, rather than name her as his consort, was an incredibly controversial decision. To make her a queen, someone who held as much political power as he did, was an extraordinary display of love and trust. I believe that there must have been some legal opposition to it, because there was a two-year period between the announcement of the engagement and the ceremony itself. I don’t have the dates on hand, but there is evidence of the correct legal texts being altered during this time.”
He glanced down at the periodical and scoffed. “The author tries to suggest that this was a concession to the Joyces, to cement their loyalty by giving the illusion that one of their own people held equal power over Yukdom. They don’t seem to notice that this is a complete contradiction of their earlier assertion that Acylius was concerned only with the preservation of contemporary Yuk culture. And as for their claim about Acylius trying to retain the technology of the time, it’s patently ridiculous. Almost the first thing that Acylius did after ascending the throne was to order the decommissioning of all war machines until it could be demonstrated that the device also served some peaceful and practical purpose.” He shook his head. “But that was really the less significant of his actions. It was his marriage to Aelia-his acceptance of her as an equal and very public declaration of his love for her-that really signified the end of the martial Yuk culture of the time.” Asilus stopped, and turned to Katherine. Earnestly, he told her, “No shot fired during the Yuk-Joyce War ever had such a profound effect as the kiss that sealed their union.”
For a moment, there was complete silence. Then Asilus let his hands (raised in an expansive gesture) and his wings (half-spread and fluttering with excitement) drop, and scratched the back of his neck in evident embarrassment. Katherine felt more than a little disappointed. She would have liked more time to imprint the image of a triumphant Asilus in her memory.
“That’s all I really wanted to say,” he said, looking down at his feet. “There are some other details-the minutiae of the texts that the author is mangling-but that was the gist of it. I suppose it would be more convincing with my citations to hand.”
“It was quite convincing as it was,” said Katherine, honestly. “And very interesting to listen to. You lecture well. In the academic sense,” she added, when Asilus wince. “Perhaps you should speak to your university about teaching-or at the very least write a rebuttal to be sent into that periodical. I’m sure that there are other scholars who would appreciate this nonsense being dispelled, and you seem to have the basic structure of an argument already.”
Asilus blinked at her. “You think so?”
She gave him a stern look before she could stop herself. Fizzling photons. Quickly, she added, “I do. I don’t say things that I don’t mean. And if you are capable of making a compelling argument to a layperson-” she gestured at herself, “-then your contention should be all the more convincing to someone who actually understands the details.”
Asilus looked a little startled at the idea, but there was a thoughtful tilt to his head. “I wonder how quickly I could put something together without sacrificing quality,” he murmured.
“Would you find it useful if I acted as your sounding board?”
Asilus’s antennae twitched in surprise. “Are you s-” He cut himself off, and Katherine’s estimation of him rose. “I would find that very helpful, thank you. As long as it doesn’t interfere with your work, of course.”
Katherine glanced at the door. “I don’t think that Tonans will be back for some time. Could we begin now, while the idea is fresh?”
There was now a definite gleam of excitement in Asilus’s eyes. “That is a very good idea. I will need to visit the library to retrieve some more texts, but I have copies of the most important ones. And of course, the first thing to do will be to write a detailed summary of this nonsense-” he shook the periodical, “-so that each point of our argument can be targeted to a specific point in this. Let me just fetch some paper.”
He bustled out of the room, tossing the magazine onto the table as he went. Katherine stood up with a smile, and went to look for some pens.
It was going to be an interesting afternoon.
FANDOM: Insektors
PAIRING: Acylius/Aelia
RATING: G
SUMMARY: “The sound of a kiss is not so loud as that of a cannon, but its echo lasts a good deal longer.” Oliver Wendell Holmes, Snr. (In which a scholar makes a stupid argument about the relationship between King Acylius the Peacemaker and Queen Aelia the Innovator, and Asilus is having none of it.)
WARNINGS: OCs as POV characters.
NOTES: Far future fic again. Some of you may remember Asilus and Tonans from ‘Diary’-Katherine is the third member of their trio. This is, however, in a slightly different timeline. There’s a whole series of events linked to what happened in that one that I couldn’t link to what happens in this one without focusing more on the OCs than on the Acylius/Aelia. (Believe me. I spent 2000 words trying before I realised it wasn’t going to work.)
It wasn’t unusual to hear noise coming from the apartment that Tonans shared with Asilus; it was unusual for the noise to be shouting. Katherine would have expected music-Tonans was a music teacher, after all, and when he wasn’t overseeing a student’s practice or writing his own compositions, he played his favourite pieces with a freedom that had never heard the words ‘noise complaint’. On the rare occasions that he wasn’t providing background music to the entire residence, the low rise and fall of conversation-with the occasional spike of laughter-was to be expected. Shouting? Katherine had never heard shouting from this apartment before. Even stranger, the one shouting was not Tonans.
Katherine stood outside the door, head cocked to one side, and tried to think of any time that she had heard Asilus raise his voice. She came up blank. Her cousin’s roommate was a reserved history graduate, and though he could be effusive if you happened to get him started on his favourite topic-King Acylius the Peacemaker and his wife, Queen Aelia the Innovator-his excitement tended to express itself through expansive gestures and rapid speech, rather than increasing volume.
It was a pity that the walls and door muffled the words. Katherine would very much have liked to know what Asilus was shouting about. Well, there were other ways to find out.
Katherine waited patiently for a break in the noise. When one came, she knocked as loudly as she could. Asilus shouted another two or three words, then fell silent. Another voice-Tonans-said something, and Katherine heard footsteps approaching rapidly. The door was wrenched open, and Tonans-Katherine’s beloved but irritating cousin-looked up at her. His antennae stood straight up, and a look of almost frantic relief crossed his face.
“Kathy!” he said, much too loudly. She winced, but Tonans did not lower his voice. “It’s great to have you here, come on in!” He grabbed her by the arm and almost hauled her into the house. Katherine stumbled slightly and nearly fell on top of him. It took her a moment to regain her balance.
“Tonans,” she said in a warning tone, “what-”
But Tonans wasn’t listening. “Asilus! Kathy’s here! I’m going to go ahead and leave now, okay? You guys can have some alone time! Won’t that be great?” There was a manic edge to Tonans’ voice that Katherine usually associated with someone who needed to be kept away from sharp objects, caustic chemicals and heavy machinery. She tried to back away, but he yanked her down to whisper in her ear. “I’m tapping out. He probably won’t yell at you, but whatever you do, don’t ask him about the magazine.” Straightening, he patted her arm. “Good luck.”
And he shot out the door without another word, slamming it behind him.
Katherine stared at the closed door as Tonans’ rapid footsteps died away. What in the name of the Great Prism had that been about? Hearing more measured footsteps behind her, she turned to see Asilus at the end of the hallway. He looked-to her mild relief-as confused as she felt.
“What was that about?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” said Katherine. Asilus’s wings were fluttering slightly in bewilderment, blurring the bright spiral markings on the upper halves. In his hands, he held-a magazine.
Katherine considered for a moment. On the one hand, Tonans had said not to ask about it, and he had sounded unduly panicked. Her cousin was not generally prone to panic. On the other hand, it had never been Katherine’s way to avoid a problem simply because she might be shouted at-and in all honesty, she was rather curious about what the content of the shouting would be. So she pointed at the offending object and said, “Tonans said not to ask about the magazine.”
Asilus’s mouth fell open and his antennae twitched upwards in surprise. Then he straightened, wings folding back, and his mouth set into flat line. “Well, if he found it so boring, then he should have said so.” He was probably trying to sound injured and dignified, but the impression that Katherine received was instead one of mixed irritation and embarrassment.
Katherine glanced at the door. “I don’t think he was bored.” When she looked back at Asilus, his mouth was open to say something-mostly likely a request for clarification, which Katherine did not feel comfortable supplying. So she said quickly, “What about this magazine?”
Asilus glanced down at the magazine in his hands as though he had forgotten that he was holding it, and shifted uncomfortably. “Oh-it really isn’t that interesting. Won’t you come in? You don’t have to stand by the door.”
She followed him into the lounge room and sat down on the low-backed couch. As she arranged her wings so that she wouldn’t leave shed scales on the upholstery, Asilus scuttled from one part of the room to another. Katherine watched him for a few minutes before she asked, “May I see it?”
Asilus jumped and looked over at her with wide eyes. Katherine held out her hand. Slowly, Asilus came over and placed the magazine in her hands. There were wrinkled patches on the cover where he had clutched it, and several pages lay askew, as though they had been partially torn out. Katherine smoothed the cover. The title proclaimed it to be an issue of Studies in Early Harmony History, and much of the cover was taken up with an artistic representation of the Second Bridge of Konkord. On the lower left side were a list of featured articles, and Katherine found what she was looking for almost immediately.
“‘King Acylius: Persuasive Peacemaker or Machiavellian Master?’” she read aloud.
Asilus made a sound that was almost a growl. How interesting. Katherine had never heard Asilus reduced to incoherency before.
“They missed their chance to include an exclamation mark in the title,” she noted. “So long as they were intending to titillate, they might as well have pursued their goal to its fullest extent.” She opened the periodical. As she had expected, the crooked pages were the offending article, and she skimmed the closely-packed columns of text with a critical eye. The rhetoric was just as emotional and melodramatic as the title, and Katherine felt that if she continued to read, her intelligence might actually drop. She closed the magazine again.
“That article,” she said calmly, “is a complete failure of the peer review process. It does not belong in a reputable publication; it belongs in a sensationalist rag.”
Asilus’s self-control broke, and he threw up his arms in an exasperated gesture. “I know! Their deliberate misconstruction of the treaty text alone should have meant an immediate rejection! And as for their ridiculous narrative about Acylius’s courtship of Aelia…!” He began to pace. “To begin with, it relies on the presumption that Acylius was a traditional Yuk who only pretended to prefer the Joyce culture, and that is complete nonsense. All contemporary texts agree that Acylius’s fascination with kolor, music and flowers began at a very young age, even if no one is entirely sure how he was exposed to the concept that these were positive things. They are suggesting that a child was capable of formulating an intricate, long-term scheme that placed him at odds with every single authority figure in his life, and somehow had such superb acting skills that no one ever guessed that it might be a ruse!” His voice was rising towards a shout again. Katherine settled back against the couch, fascinated. She wished for her camera; the graceful way that Asilus spun at the end of each leg of pacing deserved to be captured for posterity.
“…and there is certainly no evidence at all to support the view that the Yukdom of Queen Bakrakra was aware of Aelia’s role in the creation of different flower species, or even understood the implications of such work. Even the most cursory examination of the military and espionage reports would show that General Lukanus’s army was only concerned with Fulgor and his guitar, so the information could not possible have come from there. Of course, Lord Teknocratus demonstrated some understanding that there was more than a cosmetic difference between flower species-his redesign of the Hotsy-Totsy system to take advantage of the greater karbon content of daffodils shows that quite clearly-but there is nothing in his notes to suggest that he knew that the breeding of different species was a deliberate action as opposed to natural diversification. So to suggest that Acylius had somehow sought out Aelia because of her skills, chose her as a target because of them, is a complete fabrication with no basis in evidence at all.”
Katherine wondered whether Asilus had ever been approached about the possibility of lecturing. He was a compelling, passionate speaker, and clearly familiar with his material-and an insistence on an evidence-based approach that would be valuable to impart to future academics. She could certainly imagine him stalking up and down the stage of a lecture theatre, emphasising his points with the dramatic, sweeping gestures he was using now. A tilt of the head and a raising of an open hand to acknowledge an opponent’s potential point; a broad, slashing gesture to dismiss an improperly constructed argument…
She wished again for her camera. She wanted to record this.
“…utterly ignores the significance of the Joyce traditions that Acylius adopted. And if there is anything that demonstrates more clearly the way that the writer is ignoring whatever evidence does not fit their theory, it is this. Their argument apparently allows them to dismiss any and all records of the Joyces, since they were apparently ‘completely deceived’ by Acylius’s ‘cunning manipulation’-” Asilus’s voice dripped with contempt. “-and any Yuk record expressing disapproval of his deviant behaviour was clearly written before he took the throne and justified that deviance by ‘securing a future for the Yuk people where’-what was it that they said-” Asilus paused in his speech and flicked through the magazine to the article. Katherine watching him scan the writing with narrowed eyes, one finger running down the page to track his progress. He looked quite fierce as he hunted for the phrase he had begun to quote. When he found it, he snorted. “Oh, yes. ‘A future for the Yuk people where the preservation of Yuk technology and culture was prioritised over any Joyce influence’.” He closed the periodical again with a dismissive snap. “Complete nonsense. The author is totally ignoring…” He trailed off, eyes widening. Katherine waited patiently for him to continue, but instead Asilus groaned and put his head in his hands. The periodical that he was still holding bent one of his antennae at what looked like a very uncomfortable angle.
With a voice muffled by his hands, Asilus moaned, “I did it again.”
“Did what again?” asked Katherine.
“Went off on a tirade.” Asilus groaned again. “I’m so sorry, Katherine-you can’t possibly be interested-”
She frowned. “Please don’t tell me what I am and am not interested in. That is my decision to make.” Was that too harsh? Katherine tried to think of what Tonans would have said. Her cousin had always been far better at people than she had. After a moment’s thought, she said, “And if I hadn’t been interested, I would have said something.” That was the root of Asilus’s concern, wasn’t it? “Now, would you please tell me what Joyce tradition Acylius chose to follow that undermined Yuk culture?”
Asilus took his hands away from his face and stared at her. Katherine, suspecting that an interested audience was a comparative rarity to him, waited patiently for him to adjust his worldview. At last, he took a deep breath and said, “If you’re sure…”
“I am,” said Katherine. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have said so. She kept those words to herself. Asilus’s confidence appeared to be fragile, and she didn’t want to damage it. Tonans had suggested on more than one occasion that Asilus had a crush on her, so she hoped that he was more assured when he spoke to others.
Asilus closed his eyes for a moment as though to collect his thoughts, before he finally continued. “Acylius adopted a number of Joyce traditions that contradicted the Yuk practices of the time. Some were later reinstated-the integration of the two cultures was a long and difficult process, and most of the practical changes are attributed to his daughter and successor, Katherine the First-” He broke off with a shake of his head. “That could be a whole lecture in itself,” he said, a little ruefully. “The tradition that I was referring to was Acylius’s marriage to Aelia.”
Katherine frowned. “I thought that Aelia and Acylius were married twice,” she said, vaguely recalling some mention of the fact in her schooling. “Or at least, they conducted two ceremonies. That argues for an existing tradition of Yuk marriage.”
“Yes, but that in itself is the key,” said Asilus, excitement kindling in his voice again. “You’re right, there was an existing practice of Yuk marriage, but it hadn’t been used by the royal family for at least three centuries prior to Acylius’s rule. Yuk monarchs took consorts, rather than husbands or wives-that was why Acylius’s father wasn’t a King alongside Bakrakra’s Queen.” He began to pace again-slowly at first, then gradually gaining speed and purpose. “Yuk history, you see, was rife with examples of individuals who married into the royal family and then attempt a coup against their royal spouse. Eventually, the tradition of consorts was instated to remove any suggestion that the wife or husband of a Yuk ruler had a claim to the throne. A consort could help to produce a legitimate heir, but they held no political power. In fact, by the time Acylius was born, it was rare for a consort to have much contact with the heir at all. Acylius spent very little time with his father, Vecundus, for example-” He broke off with a cough, his pacing faltering. “And that would be another lecture,” he said, with a sheepish smile. Resuming his pacing, he went on, “In any case, to marry Aelia, rather than name her as his consort, was an incredibly controversial decision. To make her a queen, someone who held as much political power as he did, was an extraordinary display of love and trust. I believe that there must have been some legal opposition to it, because there was a two-year period between the announcement of the engagement and the ceremony itself. I don’t have the dates on hand, but there is evidence of the correct legal texts being altered during this time.”
He glanced down at the periodical and scoffed. “The author tries to suggest that this was a concession to the Joyces, to cement their loyalty by giving the illusion that one of their own people held equal power over Yukdom. They don’t seem to notice that this is a complete contradiction of their earlier assertion that Acylius was concerned only with the preservation of contemporary Yuk culture. And as for their claim about Acylius trying to retain the technology of the time, it’s patently ridiculous. Almost the first thing that Acylius did after ascending the throne was to order the decommissioning of all war machines until it could be demonstrated that the device also served some peaceful and practical purpose.” He shook his head. “But that was really the less significant of his actions. It was his marriage to Aelia-his acceptance of her as an equal and very public declaration of his love for her-that really signified the end of the martial Yuk culture of the time.” Asilus stopped, and turned to Katherine. Earnestly, he told her, “No shot fired during the Yuk-Joyce War ever had such a profound effect as the kiss that sealed their union.”
For a moment, there was complete silence. Then Asilus let his hands (raised in an expansive gesture) and his wings (half-spread and fluttering with excitement) drop, and scratched the back of his neck in evident embarrassment. Katherine felt more than a little disappointed. She would have liked more time to imprint the image of a triumphant Asilus in her memory.
“That’s all I really wanted to say,” he said, looking down at his feet. “There are some other details-the minutiae of the texts that the author is mangling-but that was the gist of it. I suppose it would be more convincing with my citations to hand.”
“It was quite convincing as it was,” said Katherine, honestly. “And very interesting to listen to. You lecture well. In the academic sense,” she added, when Asilus wince. “Perhaps you should speak to your university about teaching-or at the very least write a rebuttal to be sent into that periodical. I’m sure that there are other scholars who would appreciate this nonsense being dispelled, and you seem to have the basic structure of an argument already.”
Asilus blinked at her. “You think so?”
She gave him a stern look before she could stop herself. Fizzling photons. Quickly, she added, “I do. I don’t say things that I don’t mean. And if you are capable of making a compelling argument to a layperson-” she gestured at herself, “-then your contention should be all the more convincing to someone who actually understands the details.”
Asilus looked a little startled at the idea, but there was a thoughtful tilt to his head. “I wonder how quickly I could put something together without sacrificing quality,” he murmured.
“Would you find it useful if I acted as your sounding board?”
Asilus’s antennae twitched in surprise. “Are you s-” He cut himself off, and Katherine’s estimation of him rose. “I would find that very helpful, thank you. As long as it doesn’t interfere with your work, of course.”
Katherine glanced at the door. “I don’t think that Tonans will be back for some time. Could we begin now, while the idea is fresh?”
There was now a definite gleam of excitement in Asilus’s eyes. “That is a very good idea. I will need to visit the library to retrieve some more texts, but I have copies of the most important ones. And of course, the first thing to do will be to write a detailed summary of this nonsense-” he shook the periodical, “-so that each point of our argument can be targeted to a specific point in this. Let me just fetch some paper.”
He bustled out of the room, tossing the magazine onto the table as he went. Katherine stood up with a smile, and went to look for some pens.
It was going to be an interesting afternoon.