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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 - 18. Chapter 18

ITUMAK

“What makes you think I’m a guard?”
Itumak gulped down a shot, relishing the burn of whiskey in his throat. Beside him, a human nursed a beer — his only drink since entering the bar nearly half an hour ago.
“I’ve seen you on the TV,” the man said, his voice sending shivers down Itumak’s spine. “You were one of the guards who greeted those people from Ceos.”
Itumak shrugged. “You got me. But why me?”
“Look, I’m already a city guard. I know the deal. I need a sponsor to even have a prayer of getting into the Palace Guard. You could easily do that; you’re close to Prince Aaron, aren’t you?”
He was so tempted to ask for a favour. It would be only right, wouldn’t it? A blowjob for a job in the Guard. And it only had to be a one time thing.
Itumak sighed, taking another shot from the bartender. He downed it with a quick gulp, cursing the deal he’d made with Aaron. Only one sexual foray a week, and he’d already enjoyed the company of a neko from West Astara.
At least the Ceosans were gone — he hoped he’d never see Lady Erica again. It turned out she’d just been fishing for information. Somehow both Captain Darren and Aaron had caught on to that, while Itumak was busy just trying to avoid sleeping with her.
“Fine. I’ll see what I can do. But Captain Darren is a pain in the ass, so don’t hold out hope.” Itumak studied the man. Fuck he was hot! Little Itumak would have plenty of material tonight. “Duncan, was it?”
“Yes.” The man nodded. “Guard Duncan, 38th Precinct, East Astara. Thank you so much for this. You won’t regret it, I swear.”
“I’m sure I won’t.” Draining his last shot, Itumak slapped a couple of silver on the bar. “This should cover both of us, right?”
“Yeah, you’re good,” the bartender said, scooping up the coins. “Have a good night.”
Itumak stood up, wobbling only a little. That was a good sign — there were nights he had to catch the bus toward the palace. By now, he knew most of the drivers on the route by name. But tonight, he was going to enjoy the chill in the fall air.
The walk back to the palace didn’t last long. He showed his ID to the guard at the gate, and slipped onto the palace grounds.
A dark form lunged from the shadows. Itumak yelped as his arm was twisted behind his back. A razor sharp claw touched his throat, and Itumak gulped.
“Who were you with? Who are they?” Ren snarled. “Did you fuck them?!”
“Whoa, hey, settle down, Ren.”
“Tell me!”
A flash went off in Itumak’s eyes, followed by a click. The neko grimaced as Ren released him.
“Itumak! Are you involved with this neko? Is Prince Aaron replacing all his guards with nekos?”
Blinking rapidly, Itumak whirled toward the reporter’s voice. He wobbled, straightened himself out, and glared at the elf.
“You have ten seconds to get off this property before I call the wolves,” he snarled. “One… two… ten.”
The elf fled as Itumak let out a shrill whistle. Rubbing his arm, Itumak turned back toward Ren as Greggory loped past them.
“What is your problem? Have you been drinking?”
“No,” Ren growled. “Who was he?”
“I don’t know. Some city guard who wanted an in. And no, I didn’t fuck him. Aaron’s limiting me to one person a week. Now, why the fuck did you ambush me like that?”
“He’s my mate.”
Itumak let out a slow breath. Thank the gods for small miracles. If he’d fucked Duncan, he’d be in a world of pain right now.
“Huh. Congratulations?”
“Who is he?!”
“Duncan. He’s a guard in East Astara. I’ll talk to Captain Darren about him in the morning.” Itumak frowned at Ren. “You… uh, you probably shouldn’t mention he’s your mate. It might lower his chances.”
“Sure, because it worked so well the last time we lied.”
“I lied,” Itumak corrected. “You came out and blabbed the whole thing.”
“And I’m doing the same now,” Ren scowled.
“Fine. Have it your way. But if he’s approved, you really should be careful with how you approach him. People get rather skittish when you throw around the ‘M’ word.”
“Then how am I supposed to approach him?”
“Like you would anyone else. Except maybe with a little less biting,” Itumak grinned. “Look, don’t come to me for relationship advice. I don’t do that. Try… um… shit, I don’t think anyone here’s mated.” He frowned thoughtfully. “You could ask around online. I’m sure someone has good advice for this.”
“I’ll do that. And… sorry for attacking you.” Ren said.
“No worries. I’m not saying I get it, but hey, mates will do that, I guess.”
Rubbing his shoulder, Itumak headed toward the barracks. He’d have to get some ice on this; Ren did not pull his punches. As he passed Captain Darren’s quarters, he noticed the kitchen light shining through closed curtains. The captain was up late tonight. Or Itumak was home early. He wasn’t sure which, and Itumak didn’t really care. He was ready for bed.

AMBER

The pop of a cork echoed in her ears. Amber watched Captain Darren pour the bottle of wine into a pair of glasses.
“It’s a 1432 Escathin,” the captain said. “I looked it up; it’s supposed to be one of the better years for them.”
“The Red Lake?” Amber studied the glass thoughtfully. She’d never been the biggest fan of Niwo wines, but she trusted Captain Darren’s judgement. “Have you been raiding the royal cellars, Captain?” she asked teasingly.
“No, your Majesty. My parents gave me a couple of bottles when I became captain. I was saving this one for a special occasion.”
“And I’m special enough to warrant a ten year old bottle of wine.” Amber smiled warmly at Captain Darren. “I’m honoured.”
“My queen, you are the only person in the world I would wish to share this with.”
Silence fell between them, awkwardness held at bay by the warmth pouring through them both. Amber sipped at the wine. She closed her eyes as a tart dryness ran across her tongue, just offset by an aged sweetness.
Why couldn’t life be simpler? If she was any other person, Amber would happily accept Darren’s claim to her. The man was everything she ever dreamed of in a partner.
But Astara came first, and they both knew that, respected it. The captain’s devotion to his kingdom only made Amber want him more.
“Darren.” Had she ever used just his name before? He’d always been Captain Darren to her; Guard Darren before that. “I’m healthy now. Is there still reason for this distance between us?” Darren’s face clouded. “Please, just answer this once. If you say no, you do not wish to be with me, I swear I will respect your wishes and never ask again.
“My queen, we both have our duties. And I cannot honestly say my love for you would not interfere with mine, despite my best intentions and efforts.” He reached across the table, taking Amber’s hand tenderly in his own. “Believe me, I wish it was different. That I could fulfil every need you have.”
“Then pass your duties down. Retire, and you would never have to choose between me or the kingdom.”
Even as she said it, Amber knew it was a mistake. Captain Darren would never put the burden of leadership on someone else.
“I’m sorry, your Majesty,” he said. “I still cannot let my claim stand.”
She could rationalise all she wanted. She could keep pushing, argue why Captain Darren would be a great partner. But Amber knew anything beyond this point would only alienate the man she loved.
“Forgive me, Captain. You have always served the Crown faithfully. It was inconsiderate for me to suggest you give that up.”
“I could never be angry at you, my queen. There is nothing to forgive.”
Amber smiled faintly, trying to keep the ache in her heart from showing. It didn’t matter. They were both hurting, and they both knew it. But they put on brave faces. The world went on, just as it had after her father’s death, just as it would long after they were but faint memories of aeons past.
They finished the wine in companionable silence. Even the shattering of their hearts couldn’t take that away. As the last of the wine disappeared, Amber rose from her seat.
“Thank you for a lovely evening, Captain,” she said. “I am going to visit my father’s tree. Would you come with me?”
“Of course, your Majesty. I’ll meet you at the palace door.”
Amber slipped into the basement, pulling the trap door shut behind her. Small lights offered respite from the gloomy dark of the tunnel as she made her way back to the palace. No one could find out about her evenings with the captain; neither of them wanted a scandal.
She emerged in her office, brushing a web off her shoulder. Poor spider — to have a scary beast destroy everything you worked for, it must be alarming. Amber paused, setting a hand on her desk as she took a deep breath. Life went on. And so would she.
Amber draped a cloak around herself. It wasn’t often she wore the antiquated garment, but tonight she was feeling just a bit maudlin. It would be nice to wrap herself in the velvety embrace. She was the queen. Surely she could dress as she pleased.
Captain Darren met her at the palace entrance. His eyebrow raised slightly at her choice of clothing; she hadn’t used a cloak since Finley’s funeral. Then, just as now, she used the cloak to hide her emotions, to offer her support through the agony of losing her father. Then, she’d had the stolen embraces, the comforting words of her captain to help her through her struggle.
Now, all she had was the cloak.
“Your Majesty,” Captain Darren bowed.
“Captain Darren,” she acknowledged.
The two began their slow walk across the palace grounds. She could feel the distance between them acutely. Amber wasn’t foolish enough to worry she’d driven Darren away. No, they just needed a little space to clear the air. In a day, or perhaps a week, the warmth would be there again. It still left a lonely gulf in her heart.
The Queenswood stretched its welcoming arms around the two. Amber let Captain Darren lead the way — even after all these years, she barely knew the path into the woods. As Captain Darren clicked on a torch, it occurred to Amber that they were out late. Unimaginably late, for the queen of the realm. She was slipping — a detail like that would have never slipped her notice before. Amber took a deep breath. She really needed to pay more attention.
“Captain Darren, I have decided it’s too late to visit my father tonight,” she said, pausing on the trail. “I’ll have to do it tomorrow, when it’s lighter out.”
“As you wish, my queen.” Darren dipped his head, and stepped past Amber to lead her from the forest.
“You have my apologies for dragging you out of bed so late,” Amber added for the benefit of anyone who might be listening.
“Think nothing of it, your Majesty. I live for your pleasure.”
Wow… that was a loaded phrase. Amber tried not to think too much into it. It was just Captain Darren letting her know all was forgiven. She had no reason to worry about the evening’s turn.
She breathed a little easier as they reached the palace doors.
“I hope you have a good rest, Captain,” the queen smiled.
“And you as well, my queen.”

AARON

The Hall of the Dead was terrifying in the daytime. At night, it was nightmare fuel.
Yet Aaron still descended the steps, a red lantern in hand. He could barely see in the gloom, yet this lantern was all he’d be allowed. They couldn’t risk a stronger light destroying anything within.
He wished they could. The red glow covering the walls of the hall raised gooseflesh on the back of his neck. The statues lining the walls wept with blood, and the skulls they held stared blindly at him, a deep malice filling them.
The prince took a moment to settle his pounding heart. Walking through the dead, he stopped before King Finley’s statue. Beside the neko, Queen Amber stood, hands cupped for the skull that would some day rest in its tender care.
King Finley’s head stared at him. Leathery skin drew tight over high cheekbones. His eyes and ears were missing, the first victims to the march of time. Even in death, the neko held an imperial air. But Aaron knew better. He’d seen King Finley, curled up, small in death. He’d seen the neko alone in his deathbed, with no one there for him.
“Lady Merith says you would not approve of my actions,” the elf said quietly. “Her words have stuck with me since she arrived. Even when she left, they haunted me. Because she is right.” Aaron took a deep breath, setting his lantern aside. “I have devoted myself to undoing everything you did in office. Well, not everything, but your legacy is at risk because I cannot stand to see werewolves vilified.”
He sat on the cold stone bench across from the king’s statue. Aaron stared past King Finley, at the portrait behind him. He could just make out Prince Consort Zaddis in the shadows of the picture.
“I know you would not approve. You have spent life and death fighting me at every turn. You have made me question why I fight, why I seek the reforms I do.”
Aaron fell silent for a moment. He took a deep breath. Maybe King Finley could hear him, wherever the neko was. Maybe not. But he needed to get this off his chest.
“I see Prince Zaddis at your back. I see a neko who would have moved mountains to allow his mate to be painted with him. You have done what no other ruler has ever done before you. That is not the action of someone who hates werewolves.” The elf paused, pondering the dead neko before him. “Maybe you don’t. Didn’t. Maybe you held your stance for so long because that’s who you were, that’s who you had to be. You wore a mask for so long, you started to believe it yourself. The gods know I can feel one closing over my face, threatening to suffocate the elf I know myself to be.”
Silence filled the catacombs. It stretched, its long fingers strangling any sound that threatened it.
Finally, Aaron sighed.
“I wish you were still alive. I wish I could speak with you, that we could discuss this as past and future kings. For my own peace of mind, but also so I could tell you I forgive you. Maybe you wouldn’t care, maybe you don’t need it. But I do. I understand you now, or I think I do. I think most elves select the easiest neko to manipulate. They think only of their own agendas, and the fact that they will be alive long after their heir. Queen Erin should be alive today, to guide Mother, to guide me. To guide you through your rule.”
Aaron stood up, collecting his lantern.
“I swear to you, I will not make the same mistake. My heir, when she is chosen, will be someone strong. She will learn to take the world head on, and never back down. And she will have a loving father who accepts her for who she is. A neko with Astara’s best interests at heart.”
The elf approached the neko’s head. Dipping his finger in a philter of water from his pocket, Aaron drew a boat in the air before Finley, the sign of a neko god who only existed in the royal archives.
“Rest in peace, King Finley. May Tareth guide you in the next life, and Zasar grant you ease.”
Aaron turned toward the stairs. He shivered as he felt the glares of every elven ruler in the catacombs burrowing into his back. Hurrying toward the door, the elf prince bounded up the stairs two at a time. He doubled over at the top of the stairs, panting for breath.
“Your Highness!”
A guard rushed toward him, only to back off as Aaron waved him away.
“I’m okay,” the elf gasped out. “Just spooked myself.”
The man’s eyes flickered at the open door, and a cloud of unease washed from him.
“I can understand that, your Highness. Would you like me to lock the hall again?”
“Please.” Aaron nodded, slowly recovering.
Straightening, the prince took a deep breath. He heard the click of the lock engaging, sealing the Hall of the Dead once more. It would only be unlocked for the biannual cleaning, or if he or Amber needed to enter once more. Somehow, Aaron did not see that happening any time soon.
He moved through the palace at a more sedate pace. A few minutes later, Aaron entered his rooms with a large cup of hot cocoa in hand, the perfect drink to calm his mind. Itumak would still be out on the town, and he didn’t want to disturb his guards for a run when the full moon was nowhere in sight. This and a hot bath were the next best things.
Sitting at his desk, Aaron began shuffling through papers. Petitions to the prince, asking that he bring topics before the council on behalf of the writer. Letters wishing him well. Offers to concerts, to art viewings, to events that he needed to attend, if only to become a more public presence.
Prince Aaron would be a king of the people. And to fill that role, he needed to attend to the people’s needs, beyond just nebulous laws that might have a minor effect on their daily lives. He needed to be seen, be welcomed, be shown helping those in need.
Just over a year since becoming prince, he was beginning to understand the responsibilities of royalty. The nobles’ favour was important. But even more important was the common person, the person who needed someone in high circles to tend to their needs.

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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The following speaks volumes....

Prince Aaron would be a king of the people. And to fill that role, he needed to attend to the people’s needs, beyond just nebulous laws that might have a minor effect on their daily lives. He needed to be seen, be welcomed, be shown helping those in need.
Just over a year since becoming prince, he was beginning to understand the responsibilities of royalty. The nobles’ favour was important. But even more important was the common person, the person who needed someone in high circles to tend to their needs.

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7 minutes ago, drsawzall said:

The following speaks volumes....

Prince Aaron would be a king of the people. And to fill that role, he needed to attend to the people’s needs, beyond just nebulous laws that might have a minor effect on their daily lives. He needed to be seen, be welcomed, be shown helping those in need.
Just over a year since becoming prince, he was beginning to understand the responsibilities of royalty. The nobles’ favour was important. But even more important was the common person, the person who needed someone in high circles to tend to their needs.

There's something about selecting your heirs from those who many would consider the lowest in the world. They know what it's like to need help. And they'll either rise to the occasion and help others, or sit on their laurels and enjoy the high life.
Aaron is certainly not the latter.

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