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    Yeoldebard
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Amber Waves - 12. Chapter 12

AMBER

The car pulled up in front of the palace, and Amber stepped out, the chill of magic crawling across her arms. She took a deep breath of free air, instinctively tensing for the inevitable pain that would come with the arrogance of such a breath. But no pain came, and the queen let out the breath slowly, before stepping up to the palace doors.
The illusion dripped from her as the palace doors closed behind her. Dowager Finley and Prince Aaron stood waiting, the elf typing furiously on a phone. Finley cleared his throat sharply, before nudging the prince with his elbow.
“Blasted kids with their electronics,” he grumbled as Aaron slid his phone into a pocket.
Amber ignored her father, stepping toward Aaron. The elf’s arms rose tentatively, and the queen chuckled quietly.
“It’s okay. A week of healing from a mage and I’m feeling so much better,” she said.
Aaron’s arms wrapped around her tightly, and Amber returned the embrace, offering an arm to Finley. Her father grunted, but stepped into the hug.
“Where the fuck is Captain Darren? He should be helping you,” the neko scowled.
“You told him he was confined to his quarters,” Aaron growled, staring at the dowager. “Actually, you didn’t; you got Lord Sarin to do it for you.”
“What? Have you gone insane Father? Why would you prevent the captain of the guard from doing their job?” Amber demanded.
“Because of his old law about how werewolves aren’t allowed on palace grounds without supervision. I’ve had a mage following me everywhere all week,” Aaron snapped.
“Temper, Aaron. Be angry, but don’t let it show unless it benefits you,” Amber said quietly. “I will have to write an amendment to the law then-”
“I already did, Mother,” Aaron said proudly. “I spent all week writing it out, and I’ve been collecting signatures for the council too. I’m up to fifty thousand after only three days.”
Amber beamed at her son.
“I’m so proud of you Aaron. But you don’t need signatures. You’re the prince. You have the right to bring bills in front of the council whenever you deem necessary.”
“The signatures aren’t for me, they’re for the council,” Aaron said. “Lord Sarin said he wouldn’t even entertain a proposal unless I got a hundred thousand signatures for it in less than a month.”
“That is because Lord Sarin is old guard, Aaron. He’s used to Father’s way of doing things,” Amber sighed. “I’ll have the council called if you’re ready-”
“Amber, perhaps you should wait a day or two,” Finley interrupted. “You just went through major surgery.”
“And I am cancer free and healthy as a horse. I will call the council if the prince is ready to discuss his amendment to the law that is damaging the palace,” Amber said tightly. “I can rest enough tonight.”
“Um… it’s not… it’s not exactly an amendment, Mother,” Aaron said quietly.
“Oh.”
Amber looked at her son, at the worry in his eyes. She took a breath, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
“Okay. Why don’t we take today to discuss what you’re doing? I can see this means a lot to you, and I’ll do what I can to help you with it,” she promised. “Come on, let’s go to my office… assuming Lord Sarin hasn’t completely trashed the place yet.”
“He… actually hasn’t been around much,” Aaron said as they walked through the palace. “I don’t think he went into your office at all since you left for the hospital. He did try to increase the salary for council members from thirty gold a month to forty.”
“Oh for the love of the gods…” Amber sighed quietly.
“It’s okay, I explained that there was no way we could afford to raise their pay by ten gold and talked him down to five.”
“Aaron, I appreciate that you tried, but I’ve been arguing with him about a two gold raise for months. He took advantage of your inexperience and gave himself an extra three gold.”
“Fuck!”
“It’s okay Aaron. It just means we’ll have a little less money for the guards, if the law’s been signed. I expected this to happen. He was supposed to focus on the council’s pay to keep him from messing everything else up,” Amber explained. “Granted, I’d only budgeted for three gold at most, but we’ll figure this all out.”
“But if you didn’t trust Lord Sarin, why did you sign power over to him?”
“Because that’s the way things work. Someone had to hold power while I was under anaesthesia, and Lord Sarin is the last of Father’s council and thus the head of the current council until his death. It was his place while you are underage,” Amber said. “I sprinkled a few vanity projects in front of him, got him steamed up about a possible pay raise, and it sort of worked.”
She put a smile on her face, opening the door to her office. The room was exactly as she’d left it, but something felt off. Amber frowned, looking around the room, and her eyes stopped on the painting on the left wall. Amber’s face stared out at the room, frozen forever at 24 years old. Not much had changed in two years; her face was a little more drawn but she still looked near exactly the same.
And then she realised what was wrong.
“Oh gods blast it, someone tilted the painting…” she muttered, crossing the room.
She adjusted the portrait carefully, her hands remaining on the frame to avoid messing with the oil pastel painting. Stepping back, Amber let out a sigh.
“There. Much better. Now, why don’t you go collect your notes, and we’ll see about preparing a nice introduction for the next council meeting.”
Aaron nodded and hurried from the room, leaving Amber alone. The queen stepped around a large desk, sitting gingerly in her chair as a bit of stiffness made itself known. She would take the stiffness gratefully. It was much better than the alternative.

ITUMAK

“I’m not drinking-”
“Oh come on, of course you are,” Itumak scoffed, dragging Ren into a bar. “You can’t go out to a bar and not have a nice time.”
Pounding music filled the building, deep bass driving into Itumak’s heart and filling him with that feeling of invincibility. His eyes closed, his lungs breathing in the musk of a crowd. Opening his eyes again, Itumak’s hand grabbed Ren’s shoulder, directing his friend through the crushing bodies.
He pushed the dark neko down on a stool, slapping a silver on the bar in front of them.
“Two Virgin Dragonballs please.”
The elf behind the bar slid the coin into her hand, shoving it into a till before reaching for a nearly full whiskey bottle with a red salamander on the bottle.
“Itumak, I’m not getting drunk again. For fuck’s sake, don’t you ever learn-”
“Of course you’re not getting drunk,” Itumak scoffed as a large mug was set before him. The neko grabbed a spoon, mixing the thick cream on top of the glass into the cream soda and cinnamon whiskey concoction below. Once the fluff had melted into an off-white creamy drink, he took a big gulp, relishing the slight burn of cinnamon running into his throat with a milky finish. “Neither of us are; this is non alcoholic,” the white furred neko chuckled. “Not as good as the real thing, but hey, it’s all about the experience, right?”
He took another swig, smirking as Ren frowned at the whipped cream covering his own mug.
“And we both know I don’t do lessons. I like to make my mistakes five or six times to really drive them home.” Itumak added with a wry grin.
“Itu, am I going to need extra meditation sessions after this?” Ren demanded.
“Need? Ren, you do that shit for fun,” Itumak laughed. “Come on, you’re not going to get drunk. Just enjoy the moment, appreciate the drink, if not the company.”
“You don’t get it. I lost control at the Wolf Den. I don’t want to do that again-”
“Renshin, I promise. Everything is going to be okay. Neither of us are getting drunk tonight, and I’m not going to leave you alone here. We’ll be up and right as rain in time for me to sit in the apartment and twiddle my thumbs since Captain Darren has some weird issue with gaming systems.”
Itumak took another swig of the drink, letting the cinnamon cream sit on his tongue. If he tried hard enough, he could almost pretend it was the real thing. For four copper apiece, the neko was determined to enjoy the drink.
“Why do they call it Dragonballs anyway?” Ren frowned, taking a drink.
Itumak chuckled at the look on the other neko’s face. Ren fought back a cough, swallowing harshly, and the white furred neko waited for him to breathe properly before casually mentioning, “It’s dragon cum.”
Another series of choked coughs followed, Ren fighting to swallow his next mouthful.
“What?!”
“Well, the original is. This doesn’t have the burn that alcohol gives, but I guess the cinnamon might come close,” Itumak shrugged. “Dragons, fiery creatures, it makes sense their cum would burn if you deepthroat them.”
Ren glared at his friend, shaking his head.
“You know what, I’m going to just stop drinking until you’re done.”
“Hey, you asked,” Itumak laughed. “It’s not my fault you were drinking.”
His eyes scanned through the crowd while his head bounced to the music playing. Everyone seemed taken already, groups of anywhere from three to six people hanging together in booths or in the back with the billiards tables.
“Who are you looking for?”
“Just looking,” Itumak shrugged. “Why, did you see someone? Make sure to check their hand for a ring. I’m not making that mistake again. Blasted elf partners are scary.”
Ren let out a short laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.
“You really went home with a mated person?”
“I didn’t know he was mated!” Itumak protested. “I thought it was just a one time thing, he’d ask for my tail, I’d give it, we’d part happy. Then he drops the whole, ‘what do you say to being a third?’ Elf shows up, freaks out that he tried to find a partner without her.”
The neko scowled as his friend snorted.
“Yeah, real funny. I was afraid she was going to pull a knife on me or something.”
His eyes widened at the sight of a group of elves walking through the door, and Itumak turned back toward the counter, avoiding eye contact with Marisa.
“We should probably get going,” he muttered, draining the last of the drink.
“Why?” Ren asked, craning his neck to look around the other neko. “Oh… I thought she’d stay at the Wolf Den.”
“So did I,” Itumak said, sliding their mugs back across the bar. “We can get another drink across the street.”
“No, I think I’m good. I’m going to head back to the palace.”
“I guess I’m coming with you. I don’t want to have the gate guards get pissed at me,” Itumak sighed, following Ren toward the door. “I hope you enjoyed the drink at least.”
“It was… interesting,” Ren frowned. “That was a lot of cream though.”
“That’s kind of the idea,” Itumak chuckled as they slipped outside. “There’s really nothing better than a nice mouthful of cream to end the night.”
Ren’s ears flickered, and Itumak let out a loud laugh, nudging the neko playfully.
“Come on, let’s get going. We have a bit of a walk to get back home.”

AARON

It had taken a week of research and a night of frantic typing. Aaron was exhausted, but at his mother’s advice, he had come up with a solution to the Wolf Laws Dowager Finley had passed.
Now the elf stood before the council, thirteen faces watching his every action. He held himself with an aloof indifference that had been practised for nearly three hours under Amber’s instruction. Aaron couldn’t let the gathered nobles see how much this meant to him or they would try to find a way to use it against him.
His heart pounded in his chest, trying to break from his rib cage to escape this room of judgement. Yet Aaron remained outwardly calm as he began to speak.
“For twenty seven years, werewolves in this kingdom have been treated as second class citizens. Forced to register, forced to degrade themselves for simple pleasures that every other member of their base race enjoys freely. They have been betrayed by the very people who swore to do everything to give everyone equity, to keep everyone on equal footing.
“The argument we hear so often is that werewolves are not sapient, that werewolves are merely animals in human, or elf, or even neko guise. They are animals that don’t deserve the protections afforded to the people they were born from.”
The elf looked around the table, his heart sinking at the bored looks on the faces of over half the council members. He was losing them already, and it frustrated him. His wolf felt his frustration, and Aaron fought the urge to growl, to pace, to move.
“I want you all to look at me. I want you to call me an animal-”
“Aaron,” Amber warned sharply.
“No Mother. I want them to look me in the eye and tell me werewolves are mindless beasts. I can think. I can reason. I can learn, and I can share my emotions. And I can turn into a giant golden wolf under the full moon.”
Now he had the council’s attention, faces changing to horror, or interest, or outrage.
“Paelius Serande was a werewolf. Prince Consort Quarian was a werewolf. Aerin the Healer was a werewolf. Prince Consort Zaddis was a werewolf. All of them helped Astara directly. All of them gave their lives to Astara. And we dishonour their memories every day.”
The elf’s eyes flashed, boring into Dowager Finley as the neko leaned back in his seat.
“Dowager Finley betrayed his mate. He betrayed millions of people, and he betrayed Astara itself. And I will right the wrong that has seen people arrested, seen people murdered, for the crime of existing. Everyone here has a moral obligation, not to me as the Crown Prince, but to the child on the street, born to a family with a virus, to the teen who experimented with a friend, to the medic saving lives. All of them depend on you right now, to set them free, to let them live.”
“Prince Aaron, the laws you speak of protect people,” Lord Sarin said suddenly. “Werewolves are easily found, easily apprehended for crimes they commit.”
“And easily found by those who wish harm on them,” Aaron pointed out. “Five years after Dowager Finley passed his Wolf Laws, over three hundred counts of aggression were reported, violence perpetrated against individuals who the assailant believed to be a werewolf. Homes were broken into, people were killed, arsonists burned businesses and shelters to the ground. Five years before the Wolf Laws, the count was only fifty four. Tell me, Lord Sarin. Who exactly are the laws protecting?”
Aaron stood up straight, taking a breath as he met Finley’s gaze.
“I have nothing but respect for the dowager. He was in an impossible position. Astara was suffering from the Silver Hand, werewolves were fighting for their lives, and he needed to make a decision to try to save lives. But we have the privilege of hindsight. And hindsight tells us that wolf related crimes remained the same before and after the laws were implemented. But aggression against werewolves more than tripled. The laws aren’t saving lives, they’re destroying them.”
“Get to the point, Prince Aaron,” Dowager Finley said quietly.
“The laws need to be repealed. They do nothing to help; they actively hurt people. At this very moment, by law, I am unable to move through my own home unless someone accompanies me. My friend is stuck in the guard barracks unless he is on patrol with someone who is not infected. This is not safe for anyone.”
“The laws were not designed for a werewolf prince,” Finley pointed out.
“Tell me, Father, was Prince Consort Zaddis allowed to come and go as he pleased?” Amber asked quietly.
Finley was silent, but the council broke out in quiet murmurs that died away quickly.
“If Prince Consort Zaddis was permitted to roam the palace, then we have a case of a king using his own laws to oppress his people without following them himself,” Aaron said. “This is an untenable position, and should be rectified. Surely we wouldn’t want the people to think royalty can get away with whatever they want.”
“Careful Prince Aaron. You sound like you’re trying to punish an old man for mistakes he made years ago,” Finley said sternly.
“It can all be avoided. All you have to do is strike the law from the record. You can take this council, ask them to retroactively rescind the law, and be seen as a hero.”
“I don’t care how the people see me,” Finley snapped. “I thought I proved that with Miranda. Their opinions mean nothing to me, as long as they are safe and my people are free.”
“That is a cruel way to live your life,” Aaron said quietly. “Do you not care about the elves and the humans? Were the mages nothing to you? You’ve already proven the werewolves, your own mate, in fact, meant nothing to you beyond a political tool to be used for personal gain-”
“That is enough Prince Aaron,” Amber said sharply.
Aaron bit his tongue, bowing toward his mother.
“Yes Mother,” he said quietly, sitting down.
The Queen of Astara stood up, looking through the room.
“My son raises good points. Despite his personal quarrel with my father, he has offered a decent solution. I call for a vote to give Dowager Finley the power to revoke the Wolf Laws. If he does not, we will hold a vote to repeal the laws ourselves.”

It's been a while, but I'm still working on older stories. I hope everyone enjoys the latest chapter.
Copyright © 2022 Yeoldebard; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Yes, yes, yes!  I re-read this story from the beginning and am proud to say that I am a fan!  This story was great 18 months ago and it still resonates with greatness after all this time.  Dear author, I am here to say that your superb choice to revive this one is just another feather in your cap (if, indeed, you wear a cap at all).  I thank you for taking us off that cliff you left us on last year and continue this on to a better conclusion.  I look forward to further chapters.  Thank you!

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  On 10/18/2023 at 4:19 AM, James Baxter said:

Yes, yes, yes!  I re-read this story from the beginning and am proud to say that I am a fan!  This story was great 18 months ago and it still resonates with greatness after all this time.  Dear author, I am here to say that your superb choice to revive this one is just another feather in your cap (if, indeed, you wear a cap at all).  I thank you for taking us off that cliff you left us on last year and continue this on to a better conclusion.  I look forward to further chapters.  Thank you!

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Thank you so much :) I must admit I've had other projects on my mind, but hopefully I'll be able to keep Amber Waves and Connor and the Wolves going together.

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