II. The Penitent's Return

Devyn was a child of the storm. Where other infants would cry at the sound of the thunder, he giggled and his blue eyes lit up. At least, that was what Maebh said, and the old woman knew better than anyone as far as the Queen of Yssa was concerned. Currently, Seva lay on the floor with her son, her circlet resting on the table and with it all the worries that had come to roost over her head like dark birds. If she could have had her way, this would be the whole focus of her day every day. The world was not so simple, of course. There were things to be done that could not be ignored, so that he would have a life as much as a kingdom. The winds that rattled the windows were benign in comparison to the other storms gathering in the world, ones that her little boy was mercifully oblivious to. If she had her way, he would never know a fraction of the care that rested on her shoulders.

"He's as quiet as ye were, oft as not," Maebh said as she folded the laundry, smiling the smile of an old woman content with her lot in life. Having Devyn around gave her a purpose she'd been missing since the queen came of age, not that Seva had grown enough that she didn't need advice, comfort, and the occasional stern talking to. It was easy to forget with that crown aging her that Seva of Essen was still just a young woman. Maebh was the one who always remembered. "Savin' his laughs for ye, I s'pose."

Seva kissed her son's palm as he tried to swat at some of her golden hair where it had drifted into her face. It earned her another giggle, her favorite sound. "'Twould seem he is most genteel in his nature," the queen said with a soft smile. Devyn had never been a difficult child. The only time he fussed was when it came time for her to leave him. She hated to go, but at least he was safe with Maebh. The old woman would rather die than let harm befall even a single hair on his head, just as she'd protected his mother when she was still a girl.

"He came by it honest-like. The lords and ladies of Essen always were gentle folk," Maebh said.

"He's a son of Mór, not Essen," Seva said as she played with his little hands. Blue eyes that matched her own looked up at her adoringly. "There's fire in his blood."

Maebh smiled. "Ye gave him a poet's name, not a warrior's. Don't be tellin' me ye think him aught but his mother's son," she said with satisfaction.

"Fionn will make him into a warrior," Seva said, a small frown forming at the thought. She wasn't certain how she was going to handle her sweet, gentle little boy gaining his spurs and all the honors of knighthood. She could have lived a long and happy life never seeing him go into battle, but the choice wasn't hers to make. All she could do was hope to keep some sliver of that softer side alive. A good king would need temperance and mercy as much as a blade and armor. At least, that was her opinion. She had to bite her tongue sometimes when she was around her husband, though these days she found herself doing it so often that it felt like it might start to bleed.

"Oh, His Majesty will give it a game go, suren, but 'tis a failing from the start," Maebh said. "Ye can clip a bird's wings, but don't make it any less a creature o' sky. Won't keep it down long, neither. Feathers grow back, ye ken?"

"Then fly he will." The queen stroked her son's downy blond hair. Once he grew, he would likely take on some aspect of his father's good looks. She could only hope that he would be a constant man, untroubled by Fionn's wandering emptiness.

Devyn smiled up at his mother and babbled away. He was only so talkative with her, according to Maebh. Seva couldn't help laughing every time she heard, "Ma-ma." Her smile made him smile. He'd discovered peek-a-boo as well, which was probably his favorite thing in the world.

"Has Fionn been to see him?" Seva asked despite herself. She knew what the answer would be. Her husband didn't know what to do with infants and he didn't particularly care to learn. When Devyn was older, the king would no doubt take more of an interest. It might have been a fault, but it was a generational one. From everything Seva knew, that was just the way of things in the royal house. Fionn's own father had been much the same. It bothered her, but so did many, many things about him.

"Last week," Maebh said. "Few minutes 'fore he was called away."

"Naris?"

Maebh's lips pressed into a frown of disapproval. "Aye," she muttered. It was no secret that Maebh detested the elf and her presence at the palace. She wasn't inclined to think kindly of anyone who wronged Seva. Granted, most of the fault was Fionn's, but Naris had given him the opportunity with malice in her mind. What easier way to control a king?

Seva wasn't certain that Fionn loved the elf. In a way, she hoped he did. She'd rather have her heart broken by someone else's love than someone else's lust. It didn't change the bitter lump in her throat every time she caught sight of them together, but the idea that it was love made it somehow less toxic. She wondered sometimes if it was the glamor that the elf had at her disposal, but Lieren had made mention that Naris was likely too weak to cloud any but the weakest mind for an extended period of time. Her captivity had stunted the growth of her powers. Fionn was many things, but Seva doubted he was that weak of will.

Whatever the truth, it left her holding on to the shambles of a marriage. The only thing holding her to him now was politics. If she turned against him, it would be civil war in a heartbeat. Yssans were fond of fighting and the old noble houses—those who could call up the majority of the levies—would take her side in a heartbeat. Fionn, however, had support enough that it would be bitterly contested. Seva had no intention of burning her own country to the ground to avenge the wound. It wasn't as though the king would disinherit his only son, the only thing that would prompt her to force anything.

But those thoughts were far away when she tickled her son's feet, prompting him to sit up. He had to work to move to sit upright, squirming around. "My wiggle-worm," Seva murmured, shaking her head a little bit.

"Good to see ye smile," Maebh said fondly. "I 'bout thought ye'd forgotten how."

"This...'tis a simpler world," Seva said. "Would that I could be naught but his mother. Crowns are weighted things."

Maebh would have replied, but she heard the sound of approaching feet through the open door. It sounded like someone in armor. She frowned. "Cadeyrn's a troublesome man," she murmured disapprovingly.

Seva sat up, listening. She could hear the voices of her guards insisting that the Queen was not to be disturbed. Normally, this was her sacrosanct hour of the day where she was not to be disrupted for anything short of an emergency. Had she not put that rule in place, she would have been bothered all through her time with her son. Cadeyrn had been the one to advocate for the boundary and enforce it. If he was crossing it, something had to be very wrong. "If Fionn caught wind..."

"Her Majesty will pardon us this interruption," Cadeyrn said down the hallway. He didn't sound upset or worried. If anything, his voice sounded pleased.

"We can come back later, Cadeyrn," a female voice said. A very familiar one at that. "I don't want to be a bother."

Seva felt her heart leap up into her throat. She was on her feet in an instant and out the door at a full run, oblivious to Maebh's alarm. Her eyes had blurred with tears the moment she passed through the doorframe, but she could see well enough to throw her arms around the woman with Cadeyrn. "Holland!" It sounded half between a laugh and a sob. Then she buried her face in the woman's shoulder so it was harder to see her cry. A queen was supposed to have regal bearing, after all, though she knew the guards and Cadeyrn would be good enough not to mention it. The woman smelled like rain and armor oil, smoke and steel. It was more calming than it had any right to be.

To Seva, it smelled like safety and solace.

Holland had changed very little over the course of her long absence, at least on the outside. A little more tired, a little more worn, but she was still made of muscle and bone dense enough to take the blow without tumbling over backwards onto the floor with the queen. She did have to rock backwards a little bit, making a soft sound as some of the wind was knocked out of her. Fortunately, she wasn't wearing her armor at the moment, so Seva didn't hurt herself.

"My lady," Holland greeted softly. She felt herself smiling until her face hurt, holding that slender body close to her own. Now she felt like she was finally home. Tamaris was just another city; it was Seva she cared about. The penitent wasn't very good at hugging people, but she was more than willing to make an exception for the queen.

Seva pulled back far enough to look at her. Familiar hazel eyes were tired and shadowed, but alive with light. Holland's brown hair was damp, probably from the rain. The hands against Seva's back were so cold she could feel them through fabric. The penitent had probably just come in from the road and headed immediately to see the queen rather than waiting to warm up. Holland was muddy and tired, but wonderfully alive and well. It made Seva's heart sing. "Thou art never a bother," Seva said, wiping rain off Holland's cheek with her thumb. "I..." For a moment she struggled to find the words. "I missed thee fierce."

"I missed you too," Holland said, a little bit of rawness slipping out. Her thoughts were seldom far from Seva, no matter how ill-advised that was. As they'd approached Tamaris, the queen was all she could think about. It worried her companions a little bit, but Cadeyrn's letter had informed them that Fionn had agreed that she be allowed in Tamaris without penalty.

Seva looked almost exactly as she remembered, still very much a wisp of a woman with fair, delicate features and rosebud lips. There were hints of change, but whatever it was, Seva's delight had overpowered it. Cadeyrn had warned her that the queen was in many ways not the woman she remembered. All she saw when she looked at her friend was the young baroness she'd met in Laweden, but she doubted he was wrong. Maybe he meant the mask that royalty had to wear. That smile was the same whatever the case, so bright that it was like she'd never known a clouded day.

"I have someone for thee to meet," Seva said, catching Holland's cool hand to warm with her own as she took a step back. "And he will love thee ere the day is done." She pulled her friend through the door without waiting for a real response.

Realization flashed across Holland's face when she saw the little boy sitting on the floor, giggling as Maebh cooed at him. This was Seva's son. Cadeyrn had told her that Yssa had an heir, and she had taken the information in quietly, not certain how she felt about that. Now, seeing the way Seva glowed with pride and adoration, she knew that it was a wonderful thing. He was the center of the queen's world, which meant he was something to love and protect just as constantly as Holland loved and protected his mother. "I don't want to scare him," Holland said. She knew she was muddy from the road and rough at best. "I'm not good with little ones."

Seva laughed. "He has no more reason to fear thee than I," the queen said with certainty. Even after a couple of years of absence, she knew Holland well. Devyn would never have a better protector. "He will love thee."

Holland knelt down in front of the little boy, feeling a soft smile creep across her lips. His sky blue eyes focused on her hazel ones, a smile splitting his face. Immediately, he leaned forward and reached out for her, but his balance was off as drowsiness crept in. He would have toppled, but the penitent caught him with calloused hands. He felt so delicate, little heart beating like a bird's, but seemed happy. "Careful, alauda." Her tone was gently cautioning. She didn't want him to hit his head.

"Thou canst pick him up," Seva said, laughing when she saw uncertainty on that normally fearless face. "'Tis as simple as it sounds, Holland." She was beyond pleased. The sight of her two favorite people in the world together was enough to wipe away any traces of worry.

Holland gingerly picked up the little boy, holding him close against her body so that she didn't drop him. The idea of doing so terrified her. He wiggled a little to get comfortable, but then settled in. Holland looked down and felt a tiny hand pat at her cheek before trying to catch some of her brown hair. She caught his hand before he could, letting his little fingers close around one of her own. She didn't think of herself as having anything even approaching maternal instincts, but those blue eyes looking at her with sleepy delight and unwavering trust made the center of her chest feel warm and light. She could feel his heart fluttering away as he calmed against her chest, his head tucked under her chin.

"Ready to nap a wink already?" Maebh said with a chuckle. She could see Devyn's eyes drooping shut. "S'pose he feels safe an' sound with ye, as he ought."

"What do I do with him?" Holland asked quietly. She didn't want to wake him up if he was ready to doze.

Seva stepped over with a smile. "I can take him, as pleases thee," she said.

Holland gently eased him away from her chest. He started to wiggle and fuss, at least until he realized it was his mother taking him. "He has your eyes and your smile," the penitent murmured, watching Seva with him. "It suits him."

"He is a silly boy, though angel-mine," Seva said as she laid him down in his crib. "I told thee he would love thee."

Holland smiled self-consciously. She was pleased with the idea that Seva's son was so at ease with her. "I'll have to visit him again."

"Aye. 'Twould be good for him," the queen said. She turned her smiling eyes to Holland. "And for thee, methinks." She went over and wrapped her arms around the penitent again. "'Tis better than there are words to have thee back, Holland."

Cadeyrn cleared his throat at the door. "Your Majesty, we should move this discussion," he said quietly. He didn't want to wake the baby either. As a man with two sons of his own, he knew how light of sleepers they could be when they were this age. "Perhaps in the library?"

"Aye, off'n with the pair of ye." Maebh made shooing motions. She was the only one who could talk that way to the Queen of Yssa, a privilege that she made use of more often than not. In her eyes, Seva was still very much a girl.

Holland stifled a laugh and let Cadeyrn lead the way. Seva stopped long enough to pick up her circlet, but she didn't put in on. "How have things been?" the penitent asked. She didn't know what else to ask or where to begin.

"We've been as busy as sailors on a sinking ship," the Lord Protector muttered.

"Aye," Seva confirmed. "Oft scrambling. In secret, too. 'Tis more prudent, we thought, to keep Fionn and the Imperials in the dark as long as possible."

"Does he know now?" Holland asked.

"Nay, but soon," the queen said with a sigh. "The first of the dwarven armor and arms arrives within a fortnight, a difficult thing to conceal. 'Sides, Naris has been doing her utmost to intercept correspondence 'twixt Dhir Daral and I. I have couched it in all the trade terms I ken, but 'tis possible she has ferreted out the meaning."

"Laenus is no less trouble." Cadeyrn scowled. "His fascination with the Tuama has only grown. We have barred him entry, but he will find a way in eventually—particularly if he requests the permission of the King. We cannot refuse that. So far, though, he is trying to keep his hand concealed from even Fionn. I have no idea what his interest is, but I would assume that it lies with the western relics kept within."

Holland knew exactly what their enemy was seeking. She didn't know precisely why, but she had an inkling. His reasons were likely little different than her own. Fortunately, the shard of evil he was hunting for was within the Tuama no longer. After all, she had been careful to move it on her departure. It was hidden in her armor at the moment, shrouded in special cloth so it could call to no one else...not that it would. She was the one it wanted. "Probably," she murmured. Cadeyrn and Seva would need to know about the piece of Deus before the end came, but not yet. It wasn't that she didn't trust them. She just wasn't ready to admit what it wanted from her.

Once they were shut in the library, Cadeyrn seemed to relax a little bit. It was Seva's fortress in the palace. Fionn could certainly enter at will, but he had little interest in the books contained within. The only thing that prompted his entrance was searching for Seva. The table they sat at had good view of the doors, so it was not as though people could come up on them unaware if they were cautious.

"Where is the King?" Holland had to admit that she was a bit curious why she hadn't walked straight into a confrontation with the man. There was no love lost between them.

"Hunting," Seva said. She knew that was the truth because she'd caught sight of Naris as she headed to see her son. If the elf was accounted for but Fionn was missing, he was undoubtedly in the Argent Forest riding down a bear or some similar challenging game. It was a hobby that much of the nobility indulged in when war didn't occupy their time. "With weather this foul, I cannot say when he will return. Like as not, he will wait out the storm in the shelter of his lodge out in the forest."

"He'll be away long enough for you to have a bath and a meal, Holland," Cadeyrn said with confidence. "The same goes for your companions. I'm not sure what to do with your friend's...mount, though. I warned the guards that it's not a threat, but the stables aren't exactly appropriate."

Seva gave him a quizzical look.

The Lord Protector sighed. "They brought a dragon. Holland assured me that it's quite friendly, but it seemed a bit snappish. We've been trying to figure out what to do with it."

"He's all hiss and no bite," Holland said. She hesitated for a moment. "Unless you try to hurt Khagra or Ardashir. Then he's very much a biter."

"Oh," Seva said, her eyes going a little bit wide. "Certes, we have place enough for him. Perhaps the southernmost tower? The top is open to the sky. Mayhap that could be his...roost?"

"That should work. They like high places." Holland smiled a little. "I'll check with Khagra, though."

The queen nodded a little bit. She remembered Khagra, though they had only met very briefly. The orc had struck her as an intense creature, the red whorls and patterns on her grey skin lending her blocky face an intimidating cast that matched her imposing height. Very few people could manhandle a fey elf and live to tell. Her yellow eyes were fearsome things. "How is Sir Ardashir?" she asked. He was another face that she recalled, olive-skinned and dark haired with thoughtful eyes. A trustworthy man. Cadeyrn had spoken highly of him.

"Alive and well," Holland reported. He hadn't made a word of complaint the entire journey back to the south. Being in love could do that to a man. She had been around the lovebirds long enough to know that it could be nothing else. "I think he's a bit disappointed to be back in Tamaris, to be honest. Now he'll be expected to train and drill with all the other knights rather than being free to charge after Vladan into a real fight." His real complaint would be less time to spend with Khagra, but Holland knew better than to tell anyone that. The pair of them were still deciding how much they wanted people to know. Khagra was an honest creature, but she was also a cautious one. The world of humans was a new one to her and she had every reason to be wary. Her orcish nature set her far apart and carried a certain reputation in the south. For his part, Ardashir had moved past his bashfulness on the subject. Holland had every confidence that the first person who said an unkind word about Khagra or what the two of them had would be picking their teeth up off the floor in splinters.

"I assume Vladan is disappointed for the same reason," Seva said with amusement.

Holland shook her head with a small grin. "He knows he can break things wherever he goes. He does need a bath, though. He went skidding through the mud in our last scrap. He decided it would be faster to slide down the hill than run after the bandit. His logic defies explanation."

Seva smiled. There was a light in Holland's expression when she spoke of her friends that was welcome to see. For a moment, the penitent's somber nature wasn't quite as pronounced as usual. The shadows around her eyes were still there, but they didn't seem as powerful. She would have to worm the stories out of her friend. "There are guest quarters for thee, Holland," the queen said.

"I could use a bath," Holland admitted.

"Best get some food in you too," Cadeyrn said. "Things can wait a day while you find your feet again. You look like you could use some sleep."

Holland nodded, the exhaustion starting to seep through. She hadn't slept in a bed in a very, very long time...not that it would have likely made much of a difference. Rest was an elusive creature with the voice that haunted her dreams. "I'll tell the others," she said, standing up.

"Thou wilt do no such thing," Seva said firmly as she rose to her feet. "Cadeyrn is more than capable of speech. Go rest."

The penitent smiled. It was good to be back. "Of course, my lady. I know the way."

Seva bit her lower lip after Holland left the room. "When Laenus catches wind of her return..."

"To be completely honest, Your Majesty, I'm far more worried about her and King Fionn than her and Laenus," Cadeyrn said quietly.

"He is not so foolish as to do her harm," Seva said dismissively.

Cadeyrn was still watching the doorway that Holland had left through. After a moment of silence, he said, "Respectfully, Your Majesty, that wasn't my concern."