Amber Waves - 29. Chapter 29

AARON

“We are ships adrift at sea. The storms of life swell about us, threatening to sink us. Some of us roll with the waves, righting ourselves as best we can.
“Some of us slice through the swells, forging our own paths through the storm.”
Read the speech. Look at the camera. Do not squint. Do not cry.
“At this very moment, my mother fights for her life. She is a woman who refuses to let life dictate its terms. Her entire reign, she has carved through the waves, bending the sea to her will. For her kingdom. For her people.”
Aaron blinked hard. No tears. A shuddering breath gripped him, but he held still.
“She has served Astara well. I ask each of you. Anyone who has known the love of a mother. Anyone who dreams of feeling that love. Anyone who has lost someone you love. Pray for my mother. Pray for the doctors working tirelessly to save her. Spare a thought for this woman who has done everything in her power to keep Astara together.”
He stepped down from the podium. The darkness took his eyes, and Aaron walked blindly off camera.
A hand touched him. White broke through the brown haze, and Aaron felt strong arms wrap around him.
“I’m here for you,” Itumak murmured.
Aaron squeezed his eyes shut again, but this time, it didn’t work. He felt the hot prickle of a tear weeping from his eye. That one tear opened the floodgates, and the king of Astara shook in his friend’s arms as he cried silently.
“It’s going to be okay, Aaron.”
He shook his head. How could it be okay? His mother was dying, and all he could do was give speeches. Here he stood, the most powerful elf in Astara, yet Aaron was helpless.
“King Aaron.” The elf stepped back reluctantly, letting Itumak go. He swiped at his eyes furiously. Captain Darren stood beside them, blurred by Aaron’s tears. “The council is waiting.”
“Of course, Captain. Thank you.”
“Your Majesty… under the circumstances, perhaps you should take some time-”
“Captain Darren, my mother never shirked her duties, even after King Finley’s passing. I cannot dishonour her by doing so myself.” Aaron hesitated briefly. “Will my visit this afternoon be acceptable?”
“Of course, your Majesty. The doctors say Dowager Amber is stable for the moment. She should wake up by noon,” Captain Darren said.
His face was a stony mask. It always was. How was the captain so good at this? Aaron couldn’t see any sign that his mother’s condition was affecting the man.
“Please inform me when I am able to see her,” he said. “I will not ignore my duties, as a king or a son.”
“As you wish, your Majesty.”
“And Captain.”
Captain Darren paused mid-turn. He faced Aaron again, patiently waiting.
“Make sure you are the head of my security detail.”
“Thank you, your Majesty.”
Aaron strode from the room. He focused on breathing as he walked through the palace, on getting his emotions under control. The council knew him. There was little chance they’d mistake tears for weakness. But he still didn’t want to cry in front of the lords.
He hadn’t slept at all. Today was meant to be spent on updating documents, changing his stamp, signing orders for the palace’s change to reflect his station. Aaron had done all of that through the night. In his mother’s office. It was impossible to think of the room as his own. Someday, that would change. But right now, Aaron felt like a fish out of water.
“Announcing His Majesty, King Aaron!”
That was new. Amber had never been announced at the council meetings. Maybe it was just to introduce him as the king. Aaron brushed his confusion away. It had no place here.
Around the council table, the lords of Astara stood in wait. Aaron pulled out his seat, and Lord Sarin cleared his throat.
“Your Majesty, perhaps you’d like to take the monarch’s seat.”
The elf’s face burned. He nodded, swiftly stepping around the table. Exhausted eyes took in the lords waiting for him, and Aaron lowered himself into Amber’s chair.
The room looked so different from here. Large banners lined the wall around the door; Astara’s coat of arms rested above the heraldry of the other five cities. Bathed in the midmorning light from the large window behind him, the rich cherry wood under the banners glowed with a subtle red. Aaron fought back a wince at the choice of wood — an extravagance by King Jorin this time. These days, such wood was seen as wasteful, even if it came from dead trees that would no longer bear fruit.
The king tugged at his wandering mind. It was easier to judge the room’s construction than to do what must be done. But Aaron wasn’t here to be a designer; he was here to help Astara grow.
“My lords. My ladies. I would like to thank you for your help these past few days,” he said, quiet yet firm. “We all know my mother has been unwell. Yesterday, she was taken to the hospital. It is…” He sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. No tears. “It is unlikely Dowager Amber will be with us much longer.”
“Your Majesty, I believe I speak for all of us when I say you have our condolences,” Lord Sarin said. “Dowager Amber was a masterful politician and a beloved ruler. Her presence in these chambers is sorely missed.”
Aaron nodded, accepting the lord’s words.
“But my mother would be livid with me if I let grief prevent me from my work,” he said. “I have a proposal I broached with Lord Sarin yesterday, concerning a Niwo religion. I spent much of the night in study with Jason Farin, the palace’s foremost expert on this religion, and I believe I have come up with a reasonable defence as to why the worship of Tareth should be unbanned.”

ITUMAK

“We are ships adrift at night. Torn asunder, we still cling together. Now we’ll see what lies beyond the light.”
Itumak closed the book, blinking away tears. Typical politicians, always stealing from poets. Did Aaron know the meaning of the poem he used? Of course he did; how could he not? They had both used this poem in a report for school years ago. Itumak never thought the elf would remember it.
He still remembered though. That had been a harsh year. He’d been convinced he and Aaron were in love, and Itumak got it stuck in his head that Aaron chose the poem to lament the fact they could never be together as an elf and a neko.
Of course, none of that was true. Aaron had chosen it because the meaning was as transparent as it got for an elven poem. It had been an easy grade for them both, a way for Itumak to squeak by in their Rellanic class. Aaron said the Astaran translation was gods-awful.
Itumak still remembered it with a mixture of fondness and shame.
He was wallowing. Itumak pulled out his phone, thumbing through his contacts. Maybe Connor was free; they could have an hour together before the neko went to the hospital with Aaron. His finger hovered over the werewolf’s number.
Itumak sighed, and slipped his phone away. He couldn’t use sex as a defence any more. He needed to confront his emotions, the fact that he longed for someone to be with. Someone to hold him, tell him he was loved.
And he needed to accept that the life of a palace guard left no time for a mate.
Fuck it.
He pulled out his phone and dialled. Connor picked up after a few rings.
“Hey hey, it’s my third favourite neko. What’s up, Fluffbutt? Need another private lesson?”
Despite himself, Itumak chuckled. Somehow the werewolf could always make dark clouds seem lighter.
“Yeah. Can’t be too long though; Pr- King Aaron wants me to go to the hospital with him.”
“Yeah, I saw him,” Connor said, the mirth fading from his voice. “How is he doing?”
“As well as can be expected,” Itumak said evasively. The last thing he needed was for it to get out that Aaron was an emotional wreck. “I can be at your place in ten minutes.”
“Sounds good to me. Make sure to bring your workout clothes.”
He could hear the grin in the man’s voice. Itumak ended the call, and rolled out of bed.
A bus dropped him off feet away from Connor’s apartment, and Itumak was nestled in the werewolf’s arms barely five minutes later, with a cock knotted deep inside him.
“I know you always say Soren doesn’t mind, but I feel kind of weird doing this without him,” Itumak murmured, resting his head against Connor’s chest.
“He’ll be home soon,” Connor said. “He had another exam today. If he passes, he’s one step closer to the program in West Astara.” The werewolf stroked Itumak’s chest, making the neko shivered. “And you did everything you could to get me buried as fast as possible. This wasn’t just for sex, was it?”
Itumak sighed, and shook his head.
“Want to talk about it?”
“Dowager Amber’s illness has been hard on all of us,” Itumak said. “I mean, obviously it’s harder for Aaron; she’s his mother. But it’s hard to see him going through this knowing no matter what I do, I can’t take his pain away.” He rested against Connor’s arm, soaking in the man’s warmth. “And I feel guilty now. We’re supposed to visit Dowager Amber in half an hour, yet I’m out here getting fucked.”
“We all grieve in different ways,” Connor pointed out. “When I found out about my father’s passing, I just kept playing the video game I was playing at the time. It hit me hard, but there was nothing I could do. And I just had to do something. So I just kept playing. You are a notorious slut. No offence.”
“None taken.” Itumak smiled wanly.
“It’s what you do. When you’re upset, you find someone to fill you. Not for the sex, though. It’s like you’re shattering into a thousand pieces, and the only way you can heal is by having someone hold you.” Connor’s arms wrapped around the neko. “Squeeze you back together.”
Itumak nodded, tears dripping down his cheeks.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t be there for him, not the way he needs. Even my captain is hurting. How am I supposed to be there for everyone? I’ve always had something to say, some lewd joke that could bring people together, if only to ask what the fuck. Now it feels like I’m disrespecting the dowager’s memory if I even try.”
“Take it from the master. Jokes are not always the answer.” Connor squeezed tighter, pinning Itumak against his body. “I don’t know what the answer is. Maybe it’s just being there. Being a shoulder to cry on. Sometimes that’s all you can do. And sometimes that’s all that is needed.”
A door closed in the apartment. Soren’s rich baritone called, “Connor?”
“In here, with Itumak.” The mage stepped into the room, towering over the two. “How’d it go?” Connor asked.
Soren shrugged.
“We’ll know in a couple of days,” he said, pulling off his shirt. “Scoot over.”
Connor wriggled closer to the side of the bed, pulling Itumak with him. Soren lay down beside them and sandwiched Itumak as he embraced Connor.
“I’m guessing this has to do with the dowager?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Itumak mumbled into the mage’s chest. He relaxed, luxuriating in the warm pressure that was slowly pushing him back together.
His alarm would go off soon. Connor’s knot would deflate, and Itumak would have to go. Back to the palace, back to the aura of despair. But for now, the neko was going to enjoy this moment.

AMBER

Quiet beeps greeted Amber when she awoke. Her eyes remained glued shut, and she fought through the foggy haze in her mind.
A familiar haze.
She was in the hospital.
Her body was full of pain meds.
When she opened her eyes, when she turned her head, she would see wires and tubes sticking out of her arms.
She was alive.
And she could breathe. Even the tiny inhales that kept her chest from screaming offered a full lungful of air.
Finally, slowly, Amber peeled her eyes open. Fluorescence burned, and she blinked. It took effort to resist the urge to close her eyes. If she did that, she’d go back to the oblivion of drugged sleep.
She could hear Aaron’s voice, reading… Lord Sandolin? The high pitched ringing of the tv. A reporter’s voice. Amber felt around for the button she knew was here somewhere.
“Despite Dowager Amber’s critical condition, or perhaps because of it, King Aaron has been busy pushing new legislation.” the reporter said from the tv she couldn’t see.
Fucking vultures, every one of them. As if Aaron could ignore the realm’s needs just because she was hospitalised. If anything, Amber was proud of her son’s actions. He was acting like a king, putting Astara over his own needs.
“You’re awake.” A nurse came into view, smiling brightly. They were always smiling. Well, she supposed the news wasn’t too bad then. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired. A little sore. My nose feels weird,” Amber added.
“That’s the oxygen,” the nurse explained. “I’ll adjust your drip; that should help with the soreness.”
“Can I sit up?”
“Of course.”
That smile again. Everyone wore a blasted mask. Even now she still had to deal with the fakeness of the world. Amber sighed as the bed rose under her back; she’d have to get used to the false cheer. Something told her she’d be here for a while.
“Your son is here to see you,” the nurse said.
“He is?”
“We don’t have to admit him if you don’t want to see him,” the nurse added quickly.
“No, no,” Amber said. “I’m just… a little surprised. You can let him in whenever you’re ready.”
“Right away.”
Amber was left alone in the room, with the news blasting Aaron for not caring about his mother. She couldn’t see a remote anywhere, and there was no way to shut the tv out. She sighed, resigning herself to putting up with the obnoxious human on the screen.
One point did make her smile, no matter how the tv attacked it. And that was how Aaron found her, smiling, with tubes sticking out of her arms and nose.
“Mother?”
“Come here sweetheart,” Amber said, her eyes lighting up.
The elf approached nervously. Amber reached out an arm and pulled Aaron into a gentle hug.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier,” Aaron breathed.
“Don’t be. You did exactly the right thing. Truth be told, I’m surprised you’re here now. I thought the council would keep you longer on your first day.”
“Lord Sarin was gracious enough to suggest a break for lunch,” Aaron smiled tightly. “I have to be back in an hour.”
“Despite all appearances to the contrary, Lord Sarin is a good man,” Amber admitted. “He and I rarely saw eye-to-eye, but his views were nonetheless rooted in Astara’s best interests.” She echoed Aaron’s tight smile. “With the exception of the pay increases he likes to give himself.”
Aaron chuckled painfully.
“But I am so proud of you Aaron. I can’t believe you got Queen Erin’s law revoked on your first day as king.”
“It was all Jason Farin’s doing,” Aaron shrugged modestly. “I just explained the points he explained to me.”
“Which is exactly what you should have done,” Amber nodded. “The Council of Lords is meant to advise you. But never think that means theirs are the only voices you should listen to.”
“Thank you, Mother.”
“I know the hospital is supposed to be neutral ground for everyone, but you didn’t come by yourself, did you?” Amber said sternly.
Aaron shook his head.
“Itumak and Captain Darren are waiting outside,” he said.
“The captain is here?” Amber asked, perking up.
“I specifically asked him to lead the security detail. I thought you might like to talk to him.”
“Thank you so much, Aaron.”
“I… um, I’ll ask him to come in. I should probably get back to the palace.”
“Aaron.” The elf paused before he could turn away. “We both know I’m not promised tomorrow. And I want you to know that I love you. Whatever the people on the news say, you are doing the right thing. I am just one person. As hard as it is, Astara must come first.”
“I know, Mother.” Tears ran down Aaron’s cheek. “Gods blast it, I’ve spent all day trying not to cry.”
“It’s okay. Let it out. No one can judge you here.”
He shook silently. Amber pulled him close, embracing him again as Aaron sobbed into her shoulder.
But they were both aware of the ticking clock. The lords awaited. Before either of them were ready, Aaron was drying his face.
“I’ll send Captain Darren in. I love you, Mother.”
“I love you too.”
Amber watched the king of Astara walk out of the room. Her heart ached in a way no medicine could cure.
Even the appearance of Captain Darren did little to ease the hurt.
The captain bowed from the doorway, and Amber laughed weakly.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Forgive me, Madam, but I must follow protocol.”
“Oh, get over here, Darren.”
He approached slowly, and Amber held out her hand. Captain Darren took her hand, holding it firmly.
“A captain of the guard does not pay social visits to his dowager,” Amber chided. “Let’s not pretend. Please, for me, can we just be honest with each other?”
“Yes Ma-.... Yes, Amber.”
Her heart skipped a beat. How long had she waited to hear him say her name, really say it, without any of the trappings between them?
“If I may steal the poem my son stole from….” She smiled weakly. “We are ships, lost at sea. In the night we pass. Forever lonely, we seek safe harbour, so we may be together at last.” Now it was her turn to cry. Amber didn’t bother hiding her tears. “Darren, you have always been my harbour, my shelter from the storm. In a different life, you would have been my prince. But this life was not so kind.”
“There’s still time, Amber-”
“No. It is too late for us. And that is okay. It is enough for me to know that in my last days, you cared enough to visit.”
“I hope it’s not too late for this.”
Darren leaned toward her. His lips feathered against hers, gentle, cautious. Amber rested her arm on his back, holding him close.
“I love you, Amber.”
“I love you, Darren.”
She let him go. Amber’s arm fell beside her. Crying was exhausting.
“I will let you rest.”
“You need to get the king back to his council,” Amber agreed. “And I could use a nap. I finally have time to rest.”
“Sleep well, my queen.”
Amber watched the captain of her guard leave the room. She was left with the news once more, still berating her son. They all lied. Amber had left Astara in capable hands.
Her eyes closed, and Amber fell asleep.