Happy Galentine's Day
Not so relevant to this post, except that it's a story about a woman who is awesome: against my better judgment I got antsy and posted fic on a Saturday evening, even though we all know that's a bad time to do these things if you want anyone to see it. So in case you're interested and missed it, A Fairer House than Prose (or on DW) is my long-
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"I received a letter from Sounis, inviting me back. It appears to be genuine." He handed her the note.
"A genuine invitation, or a genuine trap?" Eddis asked. "If in returning you would be walking into your own demise, I think I would be inclined to take your status as my prisoner a bit more seriously."
The magus smiled. "It may, of course, be a trap. But I do not believe it is. I know him and the political situation well enough to know that he must be feeling desperate, and that will make him forgiving."
"Does he forgive, then? I had not thought so." She wouldn't tell the magus this, but she'd been thinking about Sounis, trying to find redeeming qualities. (When she closed her eyes, the mountain burned.) Just in case.
"He is not as terrible as you think," tried the magus, but Eddis shook her head and turned away.
"Please don't," she cautioned. "I am not in the mood."
"Forgive me, Helen, but I no longer have the luxury of waiting on your mood. I would like to return to my country by tomorrow or the next day, and it would perhaps be helpful if I could return with some tangible results of my time here." His voice was half-hearted, but Eddis knew he was right; she also knew better than he did that this conversation was to her own strategic advantage, as well.
She sighed. "I know that kings and queens do not often have the luxury of marrying whom they like, but I continue to bristle at the idea of marrying someone I respect so little. Surely you, who claim to value me as a friend-and I believe that you do-would not wish my unhappiness, no matter its political benefit."
It was the magus's turn to sigh. "I could never wish your unhappiness," he said with conviction. "And yet-"
"And yet you would still see me marry Sounis," Eddis finished.
"If Sophos is dead, yes."
He appeared to be in such agony that Eddis regretted she could not give him more hope. Perhaps it would come to that, but there were other possibilities to exhaust first. She hated to think of throwing Agape to the wolves, but if Sounis married her cousin, perhaps an alliance could still be forged. And as much as one dream urged her to action, another gave her patience; would she dream so consistently of Sophos if he were dead? She did not love Sophos any more than she loved his uncle, but the boy was kind and good-hearted, and she felt she could like and respect him. It was as much as anyone in her position had a right to hope for.
The silence between them grew strangely uncomfortable. She could tell he was watching her, and she tried, for reasons she could not quite define, to keep her gaze steady on the mountain. The mountain always gave her perspective.
"I am sorry, Helen," he said, filling the silence. "I-" he stopped, and Eddis made the mistake of turning to look at him then. "I know what it is like to give up one's preferences in matrimony in the service of politics."
"Oh?" Eddis asked before she could stop herself.
This time the magus turned to look at her mountain, searching, perhaps, for his own sense of perspective. "There is a woman I have loved," he said, his voice unusually quiet and even, "but I should never be free to marry her." Eddis watched his profile as he watched the mountain. "We both of us have other responsibilities."
Eddis took a slow, deep breath before reaching out to take his hand, squeezing it gently. He grasped her fingers tightly for a few seconds too long before bringing her hand to briefly to his lips. They both looked out at the mountain.
"And your responsibility is to return to Sounis," she said, with an air of decisiveness that curtailed the direction the conversation had taken. "I will make sure you have everything you need for the journey."
His fingers tightened around her hand once more before releasing it. "Yes, my queen."
Eddis's eyebrows leaped up in surprise. "I have not yet married any king of yours, you know."
He smiled as he turned to walk back toward the palace.
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Eddis! And the magus! Who have responsibilities and political lives bigger than themselves, who barely dare to imagine a world where their own desires are possible. Who love each other, in their own ways.
But mostly, though, Eddis! Eddis, who understands so well what it means to be queen, who hopes for someone she can like and respect, who will put herself through almost anything to save her people. I adore Eddis, the thoughtful queen, and this is just a lovely snapshot of her.
Sorry if I'm rambling incoherently. I just adore this.
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And oh, Eddis!!! I do love her tremendously!
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And I'm so pleased you like it! I do love the way that Eddis is a more thoughtful, quiet strategist than Attolia, though I think it's the luxury of her situation that has made her so. Attolia has never had room to breathe, much less to take her time with her plans; she's always fighting for her life in a way that Eddis has never had to. And oh, Eddis and the magus! (I find I rather want to know his name, but neither do I want to make one up.) It's not that I feel particularly strongly about them, but I am quite fond of them and wonder whether things could ever have gone differently for them.
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