NOVEL NEXT 11.2 Not Yours to Give
Val lifted the hanging drapes of ibex wool hanging in the doorway to the room, and looked cautiously beyond to the bed within. The smell of death hung in the air, not the rot of battlefields and festering wounds, but the slower, pungent odor of a failing body. Braziers burned gentle flames keeping the room warm, adding fire's dancing vibrancy to the constant blue glow of the underground.
Workers tended the bed, heads bowed, carefully mopping the body and tending to the ancient Laon who lay within. Her eyes were shut, her breathing slow and steady, her face and beauty long since lost, wrinkles drawn taut across sunken cheeks. Her hair remained black, not aging to grey as a human's would have. Her horns were like a drone's, but duplicated, a second pair of sickle shaped horns curving backwards from her brow on the outer edge of the inner ones. Careful arrangements of pillows supported her head as the weight of the horns seemed far too much for someone so frail.
Val tightened her jaw. Za'kel entered underneath her arm, and strode confidently up to the bed, a worker shifting to let him pat the Matriarch's brow. His face was grim and tight.
"Your command," he spoke gently, "The lost Alate has come to us."
He gestured back to Val, beckoning her, and she stepped closer tentatively. Workers moved free to let her near the bed without any looks of concern or hesitation.
"Is she awake?" asked Val.
Za'kel kept his hand extended and reaching for her, "No. She has not woken from her sleep for many hours now, her time of death is very close. I was sitting with her when word of your arrival reached me. While she continues to draw breath, we will wait."
He leaned a little closer when she would not close the distance on her own and grabbed Val's hand, tugging her towards the bed. She yielded to him, fighting her instinct to draw her hand out of his grip. To her surprise, he lifted the matriarch's hand from the bed, and gently placed their fingers to touch within his own grip, the barest brush of skin. It took every ounce of Val's control not to jump at the feeling of the Matriarch's cool and bony digits. With a sigh that felt to Val as if she had failed him, Za'kel released her, and tucked the Matriarch's hand back within the covers of the bed.
"We are surprised you have come to us, given what we have heard of you."
Val spun at the unfamiliar voice, and spotted a female Laon coming towards the bed. Workers hurried after her, bringing a small stool for her to sit at the Matriarch's side. Her hair was long and unbound, almost longer than Val's own, and shone like black silk with tiny, black beads woven into its tresses. Her arms and legs were bare and lean, smeared with the black ash mixture those of drone rank seemed to wear, her torso covered in elegant cloth bindings parted around a swelling belly that she placed one hand over as she moved. Her eyes were rimmed in black kohl, giving her a dark and intelligent gaze, set beneath two pairs of sickle shaped horns.
Za'kel shifted, taking the stool from one of the workers and placing it at the Matriarch's side, and then with the gentle hands of a partner, helped the new Laon lower herself to sit. She bent over the bed familiarly, and touched the Matriarch's brow as well, pursing her lips in thought.
"This is our Young Matriarch, Ja'ti. She will be the new Matriarch when her mother passes," explained Za'kel signing her name with one hand, his other not leaving her shoulder.
Val sniffed and drew away from the bed a little.
"You are too hesitant," said Ja'ti sternly, not looking at Val. The edges of her eyes remained soft as she looked on the sleeping body of the Matriarch.
Val flinched, and turned her gaze to follow the workers leaving the room. She was used to being in the presence of servants around nobility, but their gazes on her when she was usually ignored unsettled her.
"Tell us, what news do you bring," she commanded, then without pausing barked a command across the room for someone to bring her a drink.
"We do not need…" began Val.
"Our mother is yet our Matriarch. She will hear your words even if she does not stir to welcome you."
Val looked to Za'kel, who seemed to be showing a growing sympathy for her. "You should update us on what happened with the Dragon God…" he prompted.
Val settled with her hands behind her back, she had left her axe with a soldier before entering the Palace. Taking a wide stance she gave a clipped update of their interactions with the Vigil and journey up the mountain. Ja'ti and Za'kel listened without question or comment, letting her stream off her best attempt at what she thought sharing of the outside world might sound like. As she reached the telling of her lighting the bonfire and the fight with the dragon, Ja'ti turned her gaze for the first time to look at her, dark-rimmed eyes narrowing. Val then recounted her interactions with the newly awakened god, being cautious to objectively present her mental state.
"She is not quite…" Val scratched at the base of her chin horn as she paused, "sane. She lacks purpose, and is quite disorientated from her sleep. I fear she is exceptionally dangerous."
"The Mountain God is used to balancing a tense coexistence within its breast, the Wolf God too," said Ja'ti dismissively, "But we thank you for your warning regardless. Tell us, how did you earn the Wolf God's favor?"
Val blinked and patted the pelt around her shoulders, "I'm not quite sure. We travelled together for several days. I suspect he offered it just so I would not freeze to death."
"He has breathed his divinity into it, unlike the pelts he tears us to mark his followers. It is not gifted just because you inconvenienced him with your mortality. You will find it offers some protection for the weather and wild things, and it may have other properties. Guard it closely, and never let another wear it," said Ja'ti, coming to a stop and letting the silence between them linger.
Val frowned, feeling an unusual urge for her to break the silence, "I-"
"You are an unanswered riddle to us," said Ja'ti imperiously over her as she started. "Alate are precious and few, especially so one that our species believed dead. Despite your youth, your fire singing shows unmatched potential in its power and purity, and your physical development is vigorous and strong. And now, you have directly fought and survived a confrontation with a Dragon God and emerged with the Wolf God's favor. Yet, you do not know of your own species. You do not speak your language. You are cowed and gentle when you should be proud and fierce. And worse, you are bound in service to a hume such that your own physical safety is at risk. What would you propose we do with you?"
Val straightened her back, sniffing to mask her bristling annoyance, "I intended to only pass through. I was invited to come meet your Matriarch, I did not mean to intrude on your privacy. I am not proposing you do anything."
"And yet you are here," challenged Ja'ti, remaining seated on her stool, "If you wanted nothing to do with us, you would have chosen a different path to your master."
Val clenched her fist, barely suppressing her fury that she was being pressed into saying her thoughts aloud, "How long will you force me to dance this dance?" she hissed, "I don't know what to tell you. So I am not what you wish me to be, it is a familiar feeling I am afraid. Too fae for most hume, too hume for you. I came here because I accept I owe some part of my allegiance to your species. I am trying in the ways that I can with barely an understanding of what is right, what is wrong, what is expected, what is insult. And you give me no grace, no understanding."
She could not help her voice rising, her frustration overflowing as she continued, "But I have kept on trying, despite my own nature. My efforts with you are met with just as much contempt as my efforts with humans. Is it so mysterious then that I choose to stay with those that don't perpetually judge me for not being enough? I am trying. That is all I can offer you. Propose what you will with only that." When she was done, she felt her chest heaving as she caught her breath.
She expected to see Ja'ti rise, to wave a hand and command her out of the palace or worse command unseen soldier's to attack her, especially to have raised her voice in the presence of the dying. But, instead the young Matriarch grinned, and let the tension between them wait as she carefully settled the blankets around her sleeping mother. "Women should have some fire," she said in explanation, and rose to her feet while Za'kel finally flashed his teeth as the tension subsided.
Val slumped her shoulders, tossing her horns back over her head, "I will save my fire for other uses."
"Our mother would have liked you. We wish she had held on a little longer, but we are sure she knows you are here with her," said Ja'ti, beginning to walk towards her. She seemed unusually diminutive even for a Laon, her horns arching over her head as she raised her chin to look up at Val.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
"How will you hold her funeral?" asked Val, eager for a change in topic.
"When she breathes no more and her thread is finally cut, we will cast her body into the Mountain God's womb. Za, will you wait with her. We will speak with the Alate alone. Come."
Val curiously turned her head, trailing after Ja'ti as she padded into a room that appeared to be a private area. A worker was sitting near a scalloped bed, with an infant wrapped in blankets. Val had little sense of how children developed to have any perspective on how old it might be, but it did not appear newly born at least. She bowed her head as Ja'ti drew near and leant over the crib. "Leave us," she declared, and the worker quickly scampered off, signing something as she retreated.
Ja'ti bent over the cot, curling one finger in the tiny black locks of the babe. It had no horns, and if not for the skin color Val might have thought it was human.
"Our youngest," said Ja'ti unprompted, her voice softer, "We love our daughters, every one, but we must admit we have quite forgotten what it is like to not be pregnant."
Val cautiously kept her distance, "Infants were not common among the mercenaries," then added, "How many do you have?"
Ja'ti patted her belly, "This will be my tenth."
"All girls?"
"Yes, Matriarchs only birth girls."
Val gave Ja'ti a sideways glance, "I don't think I would like it."
"It is lucky you are not a maiden then," laughed Ja'ti quietly, "We wish not to wake her. Let us sit at the back of our chambers and speak there."
Val followed her to a sitting area further within, decorated with ornate wooden furniture they must have traded for with humans. Ja'ti centered herself within a large couch decorated with white Ibex fur, and folded her hands over her belly. Val slowly lowered herself across from her, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees.
"Za says your name is Val?" she asked.
"Valina, but I prefer to go by Val," replied Val.
"Why?"
Val blinked, and leant back in her chair. "It sounds close to a human noble's name, the woman who gave it to me was one after all. It's not a name that is easy to blend in with. I prefer Val."
"Single syllable names are very familiar for us, used by mates and lovers, but we will respect your wishes."
Val snorted suddenly with amusement as she recontextualized some of the odd looks Til'wane and Lee'to had given her in their company, and their insistence on trying to give her another name. For the first time in a while her thoughts were drawn back to Bastian, and the strange start Til'wane had given when he called him Til for the first time. She could not help a small grin at wondering what thoughts Til'wane had kept silent from them.
"Do you have one? A mate?" asked Ja'ti, her eyes glittering with amusement as she watched Val.
Val coughed to clear her throat, "Not really. Would it be taboo if they were human?"
The grin she got in return made her blush brilliant red, "Alates wander very far, we do not ask for stories they do not share. Your anatomy is compatible."
Val coughed again, "I am… uh, aware."
"You may freely know that you will never need to worry about being pregnant," she added cheekily.
Val blushed deeper red, but clarified, "Because I am immature by your standards?"
"No, your physical development is complete for the most part. Alates are infertile. Like workers and soldiers."
"Oh." Val wasn't sure what she felt about that. A moment of silence passed and she added, "I do not… Za'kel only just informed me that I will likely live a few hundred years. I don't know…" she drew a ragged breath unsure what thoughts she was exploring, "I have not had much time yet to consider what it means for my… relationships with humans." Val buried her head in her hands, trying to cool her burning face in her hands.
Ja'ti's face seemed to soften and she replied very slowly, "We are less than one hundred, very young. We took Za as our mate before we knew we would grow the Matriarch's horns, he was already the First at the time. He is over three hundred years our senior, and he will pass and we will have to take another when that time comes."
"Do most relationships contend with such different ages?" asked Val curiously.
Ja'ti shook her head slightly, "Most maidens mate multiply but it is not required. It can free one of the emotional entanglements, and eases attachments associated with parenthood when we must breed so prolifically to maintain our species. For myself, one mate shared with no other helps ensure my own daughters are not too closely related to their future mates."
"And if workers and soldiers are infertile?"
"They may love as they please," replied Ja'ti simply.
Val was silent, unconsciously feeling her braids for loose hairs.
"May we offer you some advice?" asked Ja'ti.
"Please, I would rather take it than guessing what I should do," replied Val.
Ja'ti brushed the white hairs with one hand, flecks of the black ash on her skin peeling off and dotting the pure white hairs. "It is clear to us that you are not entirely comfortable with us. That is okay, we persist, you will have many years to learn and adjust, and we wish many of them will be in times of peace rather than the current state of chaos you have met us in - it has not allowed us to celebrate your discovery as we rightly should have. But your humes will pass into death, just as our mother does. You should prioritize your youth while you can and spend it with them while you can. It may be that we are particularly sensitive to this at this moment, and so this is not the advice we would offer had you come any other day, but maybe that is the Weave casting events as it should be."
Val carefully let her breath out between her teeth, "You want me to leave?"
"We want you to live without regret."
Val turned her hand in her lap, not looking up to meet Ja'ti's gaze.
"I was technically freed from my service to come here…"
"And you intend to return?"
"... Yes."
"Why?"
"They need me."
Ja'ti narrowed her eyes, "There has been some debate about you among the Maidens," she said candidly, "Since word of you reached us from High Haven we have considered what and how to handle you, with no Alate in residence to defer to for their advice. Some think you are too old to ever serve our people as an Alate should, some think the shame of your bond to the humes has tainted you too deeply."
Val bristled, sitting taller, but Ja'ti raised her hand to command silence and let her continue, "We believe otherwise. We cannot hear the silent symphony as you do, but we are not blind to the play of grand events beyond our colony, and it is clear you are central to their course. The Fae have always served the Dragon throne, one way or another. We persist, and once these events are complete, you too will persist and bring back to us all you have become."
There was a noise in the doorway, and two children appeared between the hanging curtains the Laons used to separate areas. The girls shyly waited, but at the barest smile from Ja'ti came running across the room to tumble into her lap. Ja'ti patiently patted one of their heads, one girl looking at Val with a mix of fear and possessiveness in her eyes. A worker followed, signing apologies and trying to gather the girls away from her.
"No, they are fine," said Ja'ti, patting the couch to encourage the second to sit with her, who shyly tucked behind one of her arms to peer at Val.
Val sighed, watching the little girls curiously and leaning onto her knees again, "I did only intend to pass through, I was not sure what I would find..."
"Tell us of your hume?" asked Ja'ti, her gaze on one of her daughters as she began to braid her black hair.
Val frowned, "I consider a few of them close. The man who raised me always treated me well, he did not choose me, and I don't know if he loves me like a daughter, but he has no other and we are fond of each other. Another was a friend through my youth, he was always self confident enough to not be swayed by others from his opinion of me. He is reliable and charismatic, protective when he would not need to be, I could not imagine a better partner…" Val stared at her hands, looking at the white scar on the tip of her finger where she had cut herself on the broken teacup when they had parted, unconsciously touching it to her lips as she paused her story. "The Prince is like a brother to me. He is a good person, the kind who faces his fears and wants things to be better. He believes in futures I would not be capable of seeing, and feels the pain of his decisions and path. I will stay at his side as long as I can."
"Then we are satisfied they are a suitable place for your youth. But your life is not yours to give them," warned Ja'ti. "It is not unheard of for an Alate to take a company with them as they travel, especially one as young as you are. In the place of your home colony, we will send other soldiers and workers with you."
Val stiffened, "We have already had one death in my company…"
"And so it is sometimes," Val turned her head to realize Za'kel had entered the room, leaning over the couch to pick up one of the girls and lift her to his shoulder. He lowered his voice as he added, "Her breath slows, you may wish to return…"
"I will not compel them," said Val defensively.
Za'kel juggled his daughter in his arms, "Then I will," he said haughtily, "The Young Matriarch is right, your life is not yours to give." Val opened her mouth to continue, but he was already turning his back to leave the room, the girl looking at her sheepishly over his shoulder, "I promised you a bath, and care for your horn. If Ja is done, I can show you where we have arranged your room. We will attend you again when we are free."
Ja'ti barely raised her eyes from the daughter that remained in her lap, her face soft with thought, "You are dismissed."
Val rose to follow Za'kel, unsure what to say in parting.