Here There be Dragons: Testing the Waters

Aella slept fitfully that night, unable to really rest. She tossed and turned, trying not to wake her wife. Nereida absolutely needed the rest. She was pale and drawn, the circles beneath her eyes so dark it looked like someone had hit her. She left the bed well before sunrise, and headed to their balcony to look up at the moon. The moon was setting, her pale light not offering any comfort. No visions burst into her head, and she was disinclined to call to them. She did not want to see any future grief, and as the moon turned away, that’s all the Moon would be likely to give her. The air was crisp and she could see her breath. Aella closed her eyes, blocking out the stars, the moon, and just listening. She could hear some guards chatting in the courtyard, though they were far enough away that all she could hear was the rise and fall of their tones. There was peace, for now. Snow and slush filled the courtyard, trampled into mud in some places. No one was about except the guards, though Aella imagined the bakers and cooks were already up and busy in the kitchens.

The air proved to be too cold for Aella, and she retreated back inside to sit by the hearth. The nurse was up with Damara. They were seated on the floor, and the nurse was rolling a soft ball to the baby.

“Could you take her and put her in mourning clothing?” Aella asked softly. “I know you likely just got her dressed.”

“Mourning?” the nurse repeated softly. “Yes ma’am. I’m sorry for your loss.” She scooped the infant up.

“On second thought… give her to me. You go take a rest. I imagine it will be busier than usual the next few days, and we may need you more.”

“Thank you ma’am.” The nurse bowed low and hurried off to her own room. Aella picked up her daughter, holding her close. The baby’s chubby little hands grabbed at Aella’s cheeks.

“Come little one,” Aella whispered. “Let’s dress you in the right clothes, get that cute bow out of your messy little mop, and go cuddle mommy. What do you say?” The baby gurgled and made babyish sounds that likely had no meaning at all, but that Aella chose to take as her saying yes.

Soon Damara was changed, and Aella took the opportunity to feed her with magic while they were away from prying eyes. After the level of betrayal she had seen in Nereida’s family, from the spouses, she was worried that her daughter would be exposed. She couldn’t bring herself to trust anyone outside their little pod, except perhaps Basiano. This family was a disaster.

A thought struck her as she pulled the bow from Damara’s hair. The bow slipped to the ground as she stared at the baby’s shadow that was dancing in the firelight. She had asked Egaz to rip the information from the traitorous wench. And he HAD. In front of the ENTIRE royal family, save his grandmother. If any of them understood what his powers were, they would come for Egaz next! Her breath came faster, and she picked her baby up, holding the infant tightly as if her arms could ward off whatever came next.

Anxiously, Aella slipped through the halls, careful to keep her footfalls quiet. She did not want to wake the boys in her panic. That was the last thing she needed. She took a moment to peek in on them, and found that Egaz had crawled into his brother’s bed in the night, curling protectively around him despite the fact that Alejo was still a head taller. Alejo had kicked his blankets off in the night. His little feet were bandaged but she did not see any blood seeping through, which she assumed was a good thing. Aella placed her little daughter on the floor outside the boys’ room, tiptoed to the blanket, and tucked the boys back in. Hopefully they would sleep until the sun was in the sky. Alejo was still pale, though he did not look to be in as bad shape as Nereida. She gently touched his head, checking for fever; the way he had torn up his feet, fever was likely to set it. But he was not too hot to the touch, and so she retreated, recognizing that she’d pushed her luck as far as it would go.

Damara had fallen over and was happily chewing on her feet when Aella emerged from the boys’ bedroom. Together they headed to Aella’s bedroom. The hearth had gone out, and it was too chilly for Damara, so Aella took a moment to rebuild the fire. She could have called for a servant, but that seemed like a waste of everyone’s time. Damara lay on her back, exploring what her gown tasted like, until the fire began to burn merrily. Aella picked her daughter up and placed her in the bed beside Nereida. The little girl yawned, and so, to get a touch more of sleep, Aella lay down next to the baby, trapping her between her mothers, and she sang gently to her. It was not the sweet soprano tones that Nereida could pull off, but Damara seemed soothed regardless, and they all tumbled into sleep again.

When morning finally arrived, the first rays of dawn Aella found her wife’s side of the bed empty. Nereida was staring at the fire, holding Damara tightly, singing to her. It was a lullaby, soft and sweet, but tears were pouring down the siren’s face as she sat there. Aella slid beside her wife, leaning into her, not interrupting but making sure her wife knew she was alone.

“One day we’ll sing her a last lullaby too,” Nereida whispered, kissing her daughter’s wild, dark hair.

“Not for a long, long while, love.” Aella took her wife’s hand, squeezing it tightly.

“But we can’t know.”

“No, we can’t. And I won’t ever look. Not for that. Never for that.” Aella stood, and pulled Nereida to her feet. “We should get dressed, love. The boys won’t sleep much longer.”

“This is worse than when Father died.” Nereida’s voice broke at her words. She closed her eyes and leaned into Aella, seeking comfort. Aella did her best to give it to her, wrapping her arms around her wife tightly. “She saved me last night.”

“I know.”

“She was eighteen!”

“I know.”

Aella let go of her wife, moving around so that she could look Nereida in the eyes. She gently reached up and touched her wife’s face, noting the silent tears that were still running down her blue cheeks. She kissed Nereida’s forehead, and took Damara into her arms.

“You did all you could and more,” Aella said firmly. Nereida nodded, her expression absolutely miserable. “Now we need to be strong, for your brother, for your family. You need to be a harbour, love, not a storm. Can you do that?” Nereida took a shuddering breath, letting it out slowly as she stared up at the ceiling.

“If he can cross the world for me, I can be a harbour for him.” Aella kissed her cheek.

“Good… but now we need to talk.”

Nereida went still, and then, ever so slowly, turned to look at Aella.

“No one ever says anything good after those words, Aella.” Aella sighed, wishing she could return to their comfortable bed with its lovely white blankets and soft pillows.

“Egaz used his magic last night.” There was no point in sugar coating her words. Nereida limped over to the hope chest at the end of their bed and sat on it. She put her head in her hands. She didn’t seem to be crying, which was a start. A crying wife was not a wife who could easily problem solve alongside her. “Twice,” Aella added as an afterthought, shifting Damara so that she was on one hip. The baby wiggled, trying to get down, but Aella was having none of that. The fireplace was too close, the hearthfire burning brightly now. Nereida grumbled.

“We will have to tell them. The family, I mean.”

“Love, please do not take this the wrong way, but can we trust your family?” Aella asked. Nereida lifted her head to glare impressively.

“One traitor does not make my family untrustworthy!”

“Does two?”

“You forgave Caleb!”

Aella stared at her wife, trying to formulate the words to explain why she helped him, why she offered him a place on the crew, when she hadn’t forgiven him. Not really. He had hurt Nereida. But her words failed her. She moved to sit beside Nereida on the hope chest. It was not designed for sitting, the decorative flower motif bumpy underneath her. Damara’s wiggling was not helping her overall comfort level.

“I love you, Nereida,” she said softly. “And if you think it is best, we will tell everyone.”

“Mom first.”

“If that’s what you want.” Aella placed her hand on Nereida’s lizard leg. Nereida flinched, and Aella pretended she did not see the movement. Nereida would accept the leg eventually. She had to. “But if we do, love, we need to accept the fact that someone might not accept him.”

“He’s my son.”

“Our son,” Aella replied. “And I won’t let anyone hurt him. I’ll not let people who fear a five year old boy because of his blood get anywhere near him. And if I even suspect one of them is moving against him, I’m talking the children to a Sylph ship and fleeing. With or without you, Ner. They are more important than us.”

She expected anger, but Nereida threw her arms around Aella and kissed her cheek. Her voice shook with unspent tears as she spoke.

“You are marvelous.” Nereida wore a little half smile, even as her eyes filled with tears. Aella blinked at her wife, confused. Still, it was good to see even a half-attempted smile.

They dressed themselves in mourning clothing, Nereida taking Aella’s hair from the comfortable braid. Aella placed a bonnet over her head, hiding herself as best she could. She would do whatever her wife needed now. She’d go topless to dinner, if her wife asked, if only to see her smile. The grey, simple frock made her wife look like a stone, and leeched what remained of her colour from her face. She had never seen Nereida look so grey in complexion before. She planned to insist that Nereida spend time in the large tub tonight, to reconnect with her water.

The boys were up by the time they left the bedroom, each done up in mourning clothing, their hair under matching caps. Alejo wore no shoes, his feet still covered in bandages.

“Bath tonight,” Aella said to him. She handed the baby back to Nereida. “You need the water like your mama.”

“Yes mom.” He didn’t look at her, just stared at his bandaged feet. Dragons’ saggy tits, did her whole family think they were responsible for the traitor’s actions? Aella knelt on the carpeted floor, looking up at the little boy. She reiterated to him that nothing that had happened the night before was his fault, though she glanced at Nereida as she did so, hoping her wife would take that to heart. She somehow doubted it.

“I was proud of you both, last night,” Aella finished, touching both of them on their little legs. “You both did so, so well. Better than some adults. Today, we rest unless we are called. No silliness outside. Maybe a story or two.”

“Can you read to us?” Alejo asked softly, still not looking up. But Aella grinned. She was never his first choice.

A knock sounded at their door and a servant came in. They were dressed in mourning clothing as well. Clearly the news was spreading.

“His Highness requests a family meeting in an hour,” the servant said, bowing low. “All are to be in attendance, even babes-in-arms. The Queen Dowager has sent me to see if you require assistance getting to the throne room.” Aella glanced at Nereida. Her wife was spinning her bracelet, a concerned expression on her face. She requested help for her and Alejo, but Aella did not listen for the specifics. A family meeting in the throne room? Basiano was about to make a statement. Aella retrieved the wrap for Damara, wrapping the infant against her chest, calling on her magic enough that the little girl drank the magic down, weakening Aella but also soothing the baby so that she fell asleep. She moved over to between the boys, taking each by the hand.

“Stay close,” she whispered as Nereida spoke to the servant further. “I’ll make sure I stand near you, Alejo.”

“Are we in trouble?” Egaz asked in a terrified whisper.

“I hope not, sweet boy.” She couldn’t bring herself to lie to him. “I want to trust our family.”

“Me too,” he replied, looking at the carpet. “Why do people do bad things?”

She was spared from having to answer when more servants arrived with two litters. The activity distracted both boys. The litters were attached to chairs, clearly having been made for the Queen Dowager. Nereida sat in hers, and both boys fit together in the other. It took eight servants to carry them out, one on each end of each pole. Aella followed after, patting Damara’s back, and hoping her daughter would sleep through whatever Basiano was about to do.