Tavi of Calderon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
student_of_impossibility) wrote2016-05-01 05:31 pm
student_of_impossibility) wrote2016-05-01 05:31 pm
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[OOM: Outside Attica] Forcing the Issue
Tavi stood over the tactical map of the situation at Attica when he felt the tug of a Cursor coin being activated, calling his attention. Riva, by the direction—Ehren’s coin, not Magnus’, although the two were both in that city. This time, though, it wasn’t a request to report in or an urgent call for help. It was a reminder, and Tavi sighed internally as he straightened.
“I have a meeting,” he told the other people in the tent. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Glancing once at Fidelias and Kitai with a nod—he was leaving it to them to give him the run-down, with Max currently out in the field—he left the tent, Araris behind him. Almost as soon as they were outside, he pulled a windcrafting around them to hide them from both sight and sound.
Quietly, his friend asked, “Do you know what this is about?”
Tavi pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fallout from the way we fixed Riva. They know we’ll expand it to other cities as needed, and there are plenty of people less than thrilled with it. The Senate’s bringing some measures up as ways to block it.”
Araris’ eyebrows shot up. “So the meeting…?”
“Theoginus, Magnus, Ehren, my aunt and uncle. I have an idea, but I’ll need them.” Tavi paused. “I need you to stay behind.”
Araris frowned.
“I know. No one will see me getting there. I’m sorry. It’s not an enormous risk.”
“Tavi…”
“I’m not saying it lightly, Araris,” Tavi said quietly. Besides his own desire to keep breathing, he knew how concerned everyone was about anyone trying to assassinate him. The last three members of the House of Gaius—adopted or blood—had all died that way, after all. After a moment, he sighed. “I can find some place you can stay nearby,” he offered as a compromise.
But he suspected, rather strongly, that it wasn’t just for the meeting he’d need it. It had been a few days since he’d spoken to Alera.
* * *
He and Araris had worked out a deal, and the singulare was close by when Tavi stepped into the water of the little stream and closed his eyes. He reached out with his watercrafting, remembering the pulse of the coin and reaching for it, still dipped in the water.
When he opened them, he was looking at the inside of what had become his office in Riva. A surreptitious glance down confirmed he was in full color--which he had the power for but still sometimes wanted to assure himself he’d learned fully—before nodding at the people in the room. “Senator, thank you for joining us. Hallo, Uncle Bernard, Amara.” He grinned at his family. “I hear the Senate is at it again.”
The elderly Senator gave him a flat look. “Not the Senate. Some of the idiots in it. Some of us have a few principles left, if not many.”
“I know,” Tavi said, holding up a hand in a peacemaking gesture. “Which is why you’re here—and both of you. I don’t trust a few opinions not to be swayed by the thought of luxuries.”
On some issues he felt totally secure, and on some he didn’t bloody care, they did not get a say.
Magnus cleared his throat slightly. “All due respect, sire, I’m not sure you can legally just keep them from doing it.”
Tavi’s felt his mouth go tight with annoyance. “This is still fundamentally about the relief efforts. As far as I’m concerned—”
“No.” Theoginus’ tone was firm. “Crown authority is not absolute, Your Highness.”
“Relief and the clean-up are military,” Tavi insisted.
“Their entire argument is that this is not military, and they still have some say over the budget—and it is not unfounded.”
Bernard and Amara both regarded him intently, Tavi noticed, and internally sighed. Magnus and Ehren were Cursors and, fundamentally, he had unilateral and unbending authority over them. They might have concerns about his strategy, but their job was to offer those and then shut up and obey. Amara had been badly hurt by his grandfather, though. She would not take certain attitudes anymore, and he knew his uncle would lose a great deal of respect for him if he behaved badly.
Good thing I have no intention of that.
With a half-smile, Tavi offered, “Believe it or not, I’m aware. But I can’t let them get away with it. The precedent regarding rebuilding is too dangerous. So we’re going to distract them. It’s why I need all of you. Uncle, have you talked to Doroga about what I mentioned?”
Bernard blinked a moment. “Yes, of course. We’ve already got trade with them, although he’s not sure what in the way of resources his people will agree to provide. They’re not settled like we are. But it wouldn’t really be anything new.”
“It’s enough to start with. And the Icemen?”
Amara nodded. “He’ll send word to them. He did say Isana or Kitai might be the right ones to deal with them, assuming they do have anything we need.”
“Trade with the Icemen and Marat for supplies?” Theoginus interjected with a slight frown. The matter of whether or not they would have anything to trade was one issue, of course—and one Tavi felt could be addressed somewhere other than this meeting. “The Marat are one thing, but the Icemen might be more… problematic.”
Tavi wished he hadn’t mentioned that. “I’ll talk to Antillus and Phrygia, but the truce worked out better than they expected. Uncle Bernard, next time the Senate tries to talk about it, I want you to bring up that we need supplies for rebuilding and set forth the trade agreements. It should distract them enough for a little while.”
Ehren looked at him sharply as Magnus frowned, and he gave them a nearly invisible gesture to save it. That question was for afterwards. Meanwhile Theoginus had tilted his head to one side with a thoughtful expression as he considered it.
“There will certainly be a great deal of shouting over it. Do you really want to risk them voting against this, Gaius?”
It would be a body-blow to the future, after all—but Tavi had expected that question. “They can argue about it, but all they can do is argue about the numbers. Foreign affairs have never been Senate jurisdiction.”
The Senator raised his eyebrows at Tavi. “That’s as may be. But whether it’s in your right to do this…”
“I have Crown authority.”
“There are still plenty who would argue against that, Tavi,” Amara said quietly.
“You aren’t confirmed,” Theoginus said bluntly. “You are not legally the First Lord yet. As long as that is the case, backing up the claim…”
“Doesn’t matter. Even to anyone who thinks so, I’m the Princeps.”
Tavi’s uncle narrowed his eyes, and he let himself smile a little. Finally someone was catching on. “There’s been some debate about that before.”
Even as Magnus snorted his derision, Tavi arched an eyebrow at him. “Entirely specious arguments, and we all know it.”
“Of course they are,” Theoginus said impatiently. “But they’ll still try it again, if they’re given a chance and a reason—your Citizenship, your legitimacy, whether you’re even in the succession, whether any of that gives you the right to take the actions you have so far.”
“Good.”
The smile he gave them, he knew, was probably a little too vicious, but he was really rather pleased with the only solution he’d come up with given only a few hours to work on it. All but Ehren and Bernard were giving him somewhat startled looks, and even Bernard looked somewhat dubious. It was the Senator who finally voice what they were all thinking. “Gaius?”
Tavi tilted his head to one side. “They already lost one vote on my legitimacy.”
“It wasn’t finished,” Ehren pointed out quietly. “They could make some arguments it needs to be re-counted.”
“And that was while there was a viable challenger.” He glanced between them. “Can you give me odds on there being fewer supporters for an attempt to actually delegitimize me?”
Theoginus considered that question, eyes calculating. “Fairly high. They don’t have anything to gain anymore; they may not like you, but there’s nothing to bribe them with.”
Nodding, Tavi glanced at Magnus. “Get me better numbers on that, but we have that to work with. If they stop trying to argue I’m not legitimate, trying to argue the succession is ludicrous and they all know it. There’s attempting to exploit legal loopholes and looking moronic. Even they don’t want to do that.” He hoped not, anyway.
Amara looked more interested than before. “And Citizenship?”
He gave her an impish smile. “Traditionally proven through furycraft, especially in combat.” He spread his hands. “I happen to believe I’ve more than satisfied any such questions at this point,” and Bernard snorted his amusement, “but there’s no reason not to point out to them if any of them have any concerns I will no doubt be happy to discuss it with anyone who cares to ask—assuming no one shoots it down on sheer principle.”
His new aunt choked on her laughter. “And it saves you the trouble of challenging them yourself,” Magnus sighed.
Tavi just gave a rolling shrug. “I’ve been told the First Lord should avoid engaging in public duels. But we’re agreed there’s no real danger from any of their arguments?”
“Yes,” Bernard said slowly, “except about what you’re empowered to do now, probably. They don’t like it.”
Theoginus had gone back to watching him narrowly. “So why bring it up at all?”
Tavi turned his full attention to the old man. “Tell me, Senator. Do you think it would be enough to distract them from any substantive policy decisions for a week?”
The Cerean blinked.
Amara’s lips formed a slight O as the implications hit her. “Only a week?” Tavi only inclined his head to her, smiling faintly. “What happens in a week?”
Tavi said nothing, still smiling, and turned back to Theoginus. “Well?”
“Y-yes, Your Highness. At least a week. With enough rhetoric, it could take longer,” he replied slowly.
“No need for more, at least to start. They’ll have plenty to distract them after, for a little at least. Handling those arguments that’s up to you. Uncle, suggest the trade business. It should get things started. And Auntie?” Amara gave him the same dirty look she always had since he took up using the designation with her. He just smirked back. “Have fun with them. That’s your job.”
Theoginus rolled his eyes. “Of course the pretty one gets the good part,” he grumbled. “I do want to say, though, Your Highness, your confirmation—”
“Will happen soon enough. The Senate’s meeting this afternoon?” Tavi wasn’t about to let this start, not yet. It was a different discussion altogether, really. At the nods, he gestured slightly at the door. “Then you have work to do. I’ll check in on things tomorrow.”
The Senator bowed, and his aunt and uncle waved as the three filed out of the room. Magnus and Ehren stayed behind. Once the door closed, Magnus asked directly, “What happens in a week?”
Chewing his lip as he ran through the mental picture of that tactical map again, Tavi nodded slightly to himself. “We should have the siege at Attica broken in another couple days. A day to start clean-up, and then we’ll be able to fly to Riva,” he explained quietly. “And start troops marching for Forcia. It’ll leave us enough time to work through the next task. Magnus, can you start working on the connections we’ll need to keep delaying the Senate?”
The elderly Cursor nodded. “Yes, sire. I’ve been talking to a fair number of aides. We may be able to get more of the Senators than any of them realize, at least as long as it’s just about the succession and not any of your… reforms.”
“Good.” Tavi couldn’t help noting that Magnus still wasn’t entirely comfortable with all of his innovations, but it was mostly just bafflement. Still, it reinforced the idea he’d been turning over in his mind. “Get on that. I want it in place sooner rather than later.”
Magnus nodded and also bowed. After a glance, he left Ehren in the room as he left. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Tavi and his friend in silence.
Ehren had remained mostly silent through the whole scene, watching and, Tavi was sure, taking far more careful notes than anyone really knew—even if Magnus, Amara, and Bernard certainly guessed. Finally Ehren slid into a seat. “You’ve been thinking about what he can do,” he noted quietly.
Tavi sighed a little. “Yes,” he admitted. “He’s the most experienced Cursor left, and I have his unwavering support, I know. But he deserved retirement a long time ago.”
“He won’t want it,” Ehren pointed out.
“I know. I do have work—real work, not busy work—that only he can really do. It will keep him from having to adjust to too much too fast.” Magnus could certainly adapt, Tavi knew, but he really did deserve a break—and Tavi didn’t want to argue with him too constantly.
Ehren nodded slightly, then grew more serious. “They’re not wrong, Tavi. You’ve been putting off the confirmation.”
Tavi felt a growl try to escape and stifled it. “We didn’t have time at first. Getting it through while the Senate was in disarray would have let them argue it later. And we still have better things to do, even if at this point it will turn out to be more of a ceremony than is really rational, under the circumstances.”
“Except for morale,” Ehren completed the thought, nodding. “You should know, we have been quietly discussing it—and some people trying to volunteer things or services for it. They got in touch with us. Without a date, it’s been… difficult to discuss. You can’t distract the Senate this way forever. The confirmation needs to happen.”
“I know. I’ll let you know before I reach Riva what I’ve decided—but it will be decided.” Tavi could see the faint relief in his friend’s face. “Anything else urgent?”
Ehren shook his head. “No, sire.”
“Then I have the remnants of a war to get back to. And Ehren? Thank you.”
Ehren bowed, and Tavi let go of the watercrafting. He opened his eyes and ears to more solid awareness of his surroundings, and after a moment let himself drop to the side of the river bank, feet still in the cold water. The ground was nearly as cold as he leaned back, resting on his elbows. The sound of the water flowing merrily was surprisingly comforting. So much of the land was so destroyed by the war. That this little tributary to the River Gaul was not gave him a rather obscure form of comfort. And, with much of the wax in the immediate vicinity of the Legions cleared, he could already feel the seeds that only needed a little woodcrafting and earthcrafting to encourage them to sprout.
For a moment he considered, idly, if it might be an unnecessary waste of energy or a relaxing break to do some of that himself, just right here, where he got a little privacy. Probably not now, he decided. Araris would be wondering where he was, of course. And his feet were getting cold, and boots were harder to dry and empty of water the longer they stayed in.
But Tavi did not actually get up. After a moment, he glanced up at the sky. “I know they’ve all been saying it for weeks. Even Kitai.”
Alera appeared beside him. His heart ached at the sight. She was looking worse and worse every time they spoke; truth be told, most times they’d spoken the last few weeks had been in water. She hadn’t manifested fully. They knew it was for the best, as she tried to conserve what she had as long as she could. “You do not think they are correct, young Gaius?”
He tilted an eyebrow at her inquisitively. “You do, I take it.”
She smiled faintly. “Kitai and I know you in ways they do not,” she noted. “You have been putting it off. Are you still uncertain of where you stand?”
With a snort, Tavi pushed himself upright to let his fingers dangle in the water. The rain in Calderon had been even more frigid when he hurled himself into Thana’s storm to chase after the Vord Queen. And rather than numb, as the creek did, it stung. Useful as the water was for healing, it did damage getting to him. “No,” he said quietly. “I’ll admit I didn’t want to face it for a while. That the burden, the duty… the responsibility to my people was on me for good know. But I faced it on the slopes of Garados. That’s part of why I haven’t bothered.”
Alera’s silence was at first punctuated only by her curious look. “I do not know if your grandfather would have agreed with your decision,” she said after they had been silent for several moments.
“I doubt it,” Tavi shrugged. “But I am the First Lord. Nothing the Senate says or does can change that now, and there have been more important things. While four cities were under siege, their lives had to come first—and I needed to be at Aquitaine when we freed them.”
That had been a particularly awkward series of meetings. Tavi had handled it as best he could. Learning about Aquitainus Attis’ relationship with Gaius Septimus had helped more than he’d expected. The High Lord had been a different man once. It had given Tavi far more material to work with when discussing the past and the future.
“Attica too,” he continued out loud. “At least by preference. After… what happened,” a succinct way of summarizing that Attica’s daughter had poisoned Sextus and, for all that she was the former First Lady, had more or less withdrawn from society entirely, “I wanted him to know I held no grudges. But half the cities will be freed. We’ll have time now.”
“There was more,” Alera noted.
A thousand years of experience with his family was, Tavi thought—not for the first time—an entirely unfair advantage. “Once I’m confirmed, I have to focus on policy,” he said quietly. “It needs to happen, but I can’t divert my attention much from it once I start. Too many fights I can’t neglect. I wanted to be sure everyone else knew how to handle re-taking the Realm before I left the field for good.”
She quirked an eyebrow at him, smiling slightly.
“Well, not immediately,” he allowed. “But soon. People without an agenda don’t seem to like the First Lord doing field combat more than absolutely necessary.”
“Quite,” Alera said dryly. Tavi really wondered whether they learned speech patterns from her or vice versa. “Will you return to Attica after your trip to Riva?”
Tavi chewed his lip, turning it over in his mind. “I doubt it. Attica should have things in hand, and we’ll need to start sending the Legions to Forcia. I’ll turn over command of the First Aleran to Max officially. It’s past time for his promotion anyway. I’ll take the next week or two cleaning up a few loose ends. I’ll still try to make it to whichever of Forcia or Rhodes gets freed next, but I don’t think I’ll make the last one. Kitai,” he explained.
Well. The baby, really. But that was a daunting prospect in a whole other way.
Alera knew, too, but seemed in a mood to let it pass with nothing more than a smile. “And after that week or two?”
Releasing a long, slow breath, Tavi simply nodded.
Max’s promotion wasn’t the only thing long overdue.
They were silent for another few moments. Alera didn’t leave, though. Tavi wondered what it was she had to say. He finally rose from the water, stepping out—leaving his wet boots for the moment—and silently reached out to take her hands in his. She let him. He turned it over, unable to hold back the pang of guilt at the sight of how much worse the disintegration had become since they had last spoken. They stayed that way for a long moment.
Then, at last, she pulled one hand free to push some hair out of her endlessly shifting eyes. “I will not be able to appear to you like this much longer, young Gaius.”
Tavi swallowed back the emotion. “I suspected,” he said quietly. “I’m almost surprised it hasn’t happened already.”
She offered a faint smile. “I expect I was formed to be hardier as a consciousness than I may have suspected,” she murmured. “The wills that forged me were certainly strong enough.”
“And you’ve been conserving your strength,” he noted. She nodded, and he resisted the urge to squeeze her hand. She seemed so fragile now. “Keep doing it. I don’t want to lose you a moment before I have to.”
“Such sentiment already, young Gaius?” she teased.
He gave her a little smile. “I’m working on an idea I want to talk about with you. My family has ice instead of blood, remember?”
Yes. More sentiment than he would have thought possible, considering he’d spoken with the Great Fury for less than a year. But she knew so much, and had seen so much, and been so deeply involved with his family—and he’d never get a chance to hear all that she could tell or learn all that she could teach. And she was a person, too. A part of his family in a way. And she was dying. They had killed her just as they had created her: his grandfather by destroying Alera Imperia, and even in a way Tavi himself, unleashing the Vord all those years ago.
The sense of responsibility was, he knew, a rather useless form of guilt, and ought to pale beneath the many other lives lost in the wars. He bore it all the same.
“It is always the way that you have more to discuss,” she murmured. And not just him, Tavi knew. His family. The First Lords.
He didn’t respond—she was right, and there was no need to acknowledge it further. She vanished a moment later. Tavi closed his now-empty hands on nothing but air and closed his eyes. Then he shook himself mentally and reached for his watercrafting to deal with those rather uncomfortably squishy and damp boots.
Araris would be worrying, he had things to tell Max, Fidelias, and Kitai, and he would be wanted at the camp. Maybe one day he’d have time to indulge in self-pity. Today he had far too much on his schedule for it.
“I have a meeting,” he told the other people in the tent. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Glancing once at Fidelias and Kitai with a nod—he was leaving it to them to give him the run-down, with Max currently out in the field—he left the tent, Araris behind him. Almost as soon as they were outside, he pulled a windcrafting around them to hide them from both sight and sound.
Quietly, his friend asked, “Do you know what this is about?”
Tavi pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fallout from the way we fixed Riva. They know we’ll expand it to other cities as needed, and there are plenty of people less than thrilled with it. The Senate’s bringing some measures up as ways to block it.”
Araris’ eyebrows shot up. “So the meeting…?”
“Theoginus, Magnus, Ehren, my aunt and uncle. I have an idea, but I’ll need them.” Tavi paused. “I need you to stay behind.”
Araris frowned.
“I know. No one will see me getting there. I’m sorry. It’s not an enormous risk.”
“Tavi…”
“I’m not saying it lightly, Araris,” Tavi said quietly. Besides his own desire to keep breathing, he knew how concerned everyone was about anyone trying to assassinate him. The last three members of the House of Gaius—adopted or blood—had all died that way, after all. After a moment, he sighed. “I can find some place you can stay nearby,” he offered as a compromise.
But he suspected, rather strongly, that it wasn’t just for the meeting he’d need it. It had been a few days since he’d spoken to Alera.
He and Araris had worked out a deal, and the singulare was close by when Tavi stepped into the water of the little stream and closed his eyes. He reached out with his watercrafting, remembering the pulse of the coin and reaching for it, still dipped in the water.
When he opened them, he was looking at the inside of what had become his office in Riva. A surreptitious glance down confirmed he was in full color--which he had the power for but still sometimes wanted to assure himself he’d learned fully—before nodding at the people in the room. “Senator, thank you for joining us. Hallo, Uncle Bernard, Amara.” He grinned at his family. “I hear the Senate is at it again.”
The elderly Senator gave him a flat look. “Not the Senate. Some of the idiots in it. Some of us have a few principles left, if not many.”
“I know,” Tavi said, holding up a hand in a peacemaking gesture. “Which is why you’re here—and both of you. I don’t trust a few opinions not to be swayed by the thought of luxuries.”
On some issues he felt totally secure, and on some he didn’t bloody care, they did not get a say.
Magnus cleared his throat slightly. “All due respect, sire, I’m not sure you can legally just keep them from doing it.”
Tavi’s felt his mouth go tight with annoyance. “This is still fundamentally about the relief efforts. As far as I’m concerned—”
“No.” Theoginus’ tone was firm. “Crown authority is not absolute, Your Highness.”
“Relief and the clean-up are military,” Tavi insisted.
“Their entire argument is that this is not military, and they still have some say over the budget—and it is not unfounded.”
Bernard and Amara both regarded him intently, Tavi noticed, and internally sighed. Magnus and Ehren were Cursors and, fundamentally, he had unilateral and unbending authority over them. They might have concerns about his strategy, but their job was to offer those and then shut up and obey. Amara had been badly hurt by his grandfather, though. She would not take certain attitudes anymore, and he knew his uncle would lose a great deal of respect for him if he behaved badly.
Good thing I have no intention of that.
With a half-smile, Tavi offered, “Believe it or not, I’m aware. But I can’t let them get away with it. The precedent regarding rebuilding is too dangerous. So we’re going to distract them. It’s why I need all of you. Uncle, have you talked to Doroga about what I mentioned?”
Bernard blinked a moment. “Yes, of course. We’ve already got trade with them, although he’s not sure what in the way of resources his people will agree to provide. They’re not settled like we are. But it wouldn’t really be anything new.”
“It’s enough to start with. And the Icemen?”
Amara nodded. “He’ll send word to them. He did say Isana or Kitai might be the right ones to deal with them, assuming they do have anything we need.”
“Trade with the Icemen and Marat for supplies?” Theoginus interjected with a slight frown. The matter of whether or not they would have anything to trade was one issue, of course—and one Tavi felt could be addressed somewhere other than this meeting. “The Marat are one thing, but the Icemen might be more… problematic.”
Tavi wished he hadn’t mentioned that. “I’ll talk to Antillus and Phrygia, but the truce worked out better than they expected. Uncle Bernard, next time the Senate tries to talk about it, I want you to bring up that we need supplies for rebuilding and set forth the trade agreements. It should distract them enough for a little while.”
Ehren looked at him sharply as Magnus frowned, and he gave them a nearly invisible gesture to save it. That question was for afterwards. Meanwhile Theoginus had tilted his head to one side with a thoughtful expression as he considered it.
“There will certainly be a great deal of shouting over it. Do you really want to risk them voting against this, Gaius?”
It would be a body-blow to the future, after all—but Tavi had expected that question. “They can argue about it, but all they can do is argue about the numbers. Foreign affairs have never been Senate jurisdiction.”
The Senator raised his eyebrows at Tavi. “That’s as may be. But whether it’s in your right to do this…”
“I have Crown authority.”
“There are still plenty who would argue against that, Tavi,” Amara said quietly.
“You aren’t confirmed,” Theoginus said bluntly. “You are not legally the First Lord yet. As long as that is the case, backing up the claim…”
“Doesn’t matter. Even to anyone who thinks so, I’m the Princeps.”
Tavi’s uncle narrowed his eyes, and he let himself smile a little. Finally someone was catching on. “There’s been some debate about that before.”
Even as Magnus snorted his derision, Tavi arched an eyebrow at him. “Entirely specious arguments, and we all know it.”
“Of course they are,” Theoginus said impatiently. “But they’ll still try it again, if they’re given a chance and a reason—your Citizenship, your legitimacy, whether you’re even in the succession, whether any of that gives you the right to take the actions you have so far.”
“Good.”
The smile he gave them, he knew, was probably a little too vicious, but he was really rather pleased with the only solution he’d come up with given only a few hours to work on it. All but Ehren and Bernard were giving him somewhat startled looks, and even Bernard looked somewhat dubious. It was the Senator who finally voice what they were all thinking. “Gaius?”
Tavi tilted his head to one side. “They already lost one vote on my legitimacy.”
“It wasn’t finished,” Ehren pointed out quietly. “They could make some arguments it needs to be re-counted.”
“And that was while there was a viable challenger.” He glanced between them. “Can you give me odds on there being fewer supporters for an attempt to actually delegitimize me?”
Theoginus considered that question, eyes calculating. “Fairly high. They don’t have anything to gain anymore; they may not like you, but there’s nothing to bribe them with.”
Nodding, Tavi glanced at Magnus. “Get me better numbers on that, but we have that to work with. If they stop trying to argue I’m not legitimate, trying to argue the succession is ludicrous and they all know it. There’s attempting to exploit legal loopholes and looking moronic. Even they don’t want to do that.” He hoped not, anyway.
Amara looked more interested than before. “And Citizenship?”
He gave her an impish smile. “Traditionally proven through furycraft, especially in combat.” He spread his hands. “I happen to believe I’ve more than satisfied any such questions at this point,” and Bernard snorted his amusement, “but there’s no reason not to point out to them if any of them have any concerns I will no doubt be happy to discuss it with anyone who cares to ask—assuming no one shoots it down on sheer principle.”
His new aunt choked on her laughter. “And it saves you the trouble of challenging them yourself,” Magnus sighed.
Tavi just gave a rolling shrug. “I’ve been told the First Lord should avoid engaging in public duels. But we’re agreed there’s no real danger from any of their arguments?”
“Yes,” Bernard said slowly, “except about what you’re empowered to do now, probably. They don’t like it.”
Theoginus had gone back to watching him narrowly. “So why bring it up at all?”
Tavi turned his full attention to the old man. “Tell me, Senator. Do you think it would be enough to distract them from any substantive policy decisions for a week?”
The Cerean blinked.
Amara’s lips formed a slight O as the implications hit her. “Only a week?” Tavi only inclined his head to her, smiling faintly. “What happens in a week?”
Tavi said nothing, still smiling, and turned back to Theoginus. “Well?”
“Y-yes, Your Highness. At least a week. With enough rhetoric, it could take longer,” he replied slowly.
“No need for more, at least to start. They’ll have plenty to distract them after, for a little at least. Handling those arguments that’s up to you. Uncle, suggest the trade business. It should get things started. And Auntie?” Amara gave him the same dirty look she always had since he took up using the designation with her. He just smirked back. “Have fun with them. That’s your job.”
Theoginus rolled his eyes. “Of course the pretty one gets the good part,” he grumbled. “I do want to say, though, Your Highness, your confirmation—”
“Will happen soon enough. The Senate’s meeting this afternoon?” Tavi wasn’t about to let this start, not yet. It was a different discussion altogether, really. At the nods, he gestured slightly at the door. “Then you have work to do. I’ll check in on things tomorrow.”
The Senator bowed, and his aunt and uncle waved as the three filed out of the room. Magnus and Ehren stayed behind. Once the door closed, Magnus asked directly, “What happens in a week?”
Chewing his lip as he ran through the mental picture of that tactical map again, Tavi nodded slightly to himself. “We should have the siege at Attica broken in another couple days. A day to start clean-up, and then we’ll be able to fly to Riva,” he explained quietly. “And start troops marching for Forcia. It’ll leave us enough time to work through the next task. Magnus, can you start working on the connections we’ll need to keep delaying the Senate?”
The elderly Cursor nodded. “Yes, sire. I’ve been talking to a fair number of aides. We may be able to get more of the Senators than any of them realize, at least as long as it’s just about the succession and not any of your… reforms.”
“Good.” Tavi couldn’t help noting that Magnus still wasn’t entirely comfortable with all of his innovations, but it was mostly just bafflement. Still, it reinforced the idea he’d been turning over in his mind. “Get on that. I want it in place sooner rather than later.”
Magnus nodded and also bowed. After a glance, he left Ehren in the room as he left. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Tavi and his friend in silence.
Ehren had remained mostly silent through the whole scene, watching and, Tavi was sure, taking far more careful notes than anyone really knew—even if Magnus, Amara, and Bernard certainly guessed. Finally Ehren slid into a seat. “You’ve been thinking about what he can do,” he noted quietly.
Tavi sighed a little. “Yes,” he admitted. “He’s the most experienced Cursor left, and I have his unwavering support, I know. But he deserved retirement a long time ago.”
“He won’t want it,” Ehren pointed out.
“I know. I do have work—real work, not busy work—that only he can really do. It will keep him from having to adjust to too much too fast.” Magnus could certainly adapt, Tavi knew, but he really did deserve a break—and Tavi didn’t want to argue with him too constantly.
Ehren nodded slightly, then grew more serious. “They’re not wrong, Tavi. You’ve been putting off the confirmation.”
Tavi felt a growl try to escape and stifled it. “We didn’t have time at first. Getting it through while the Senate was in disarray would have let them argue it later. And we still have better things to do, even if at this point it will turn out to be more of a ceremony than is really rational, under the circumstances.”
“Except for morale,” Ehren completed the thought, nodding. “You should know, we have been quietly discussing it—and some people trying to volunteer things or services for it. They got in touch with us. Without a date, it’s been… difficult to discuss. You can’t distract the Senate this way forever. The confirmation needs to happen.”
“I know. I’ll let you know before I reach Riva what I’ve decided—but it will be decided.” Tavi could see the faint relief in his friend’s face. “Anything else urgent?”
Ehren shook his head. “No, sire.”
“Then I have the remnants of a war to get back to. And Ehren? Thank you.”
Ehren bowed, and Tavi let go of the watercrafting. He opened his eyes and ears to more solid awareness of his surroundings, and after a moment let himself drop to the side of the river bank, feet still in the cold water. The ground was nearly as cold as he leaned back, resting on his elbows. The sound of the water flowing merrily was surprisingly comforting. So much of the land was so destroyed by the war. That this little tributary to the River Gaul was not gave him a rather obscure form of comfort. And, with much of the wax in the immediate vicinity of the Legions cleared, he could already feel the seeds that only needed a little woodcrafting and earthcrafting to encourage them to sprout.
For a moment he considered, idly, if it might be an unnecessary waste of energy or a relaxing break to do some of that himself, just right here, where he got a little privacy. Probably not now, he decided. Araris would be wondering where he was, of course. And his feet were getting cold, and boots were harder to dry and empty of water the longer they stayed in.
But Tavi did not actually get up. After a moment, he glanced up at the sky. “I know they’ve all been saying it for weeks. Even Kitai.”
Alera appeared beside him. His heart ached at the sight. She was looking worse and worse every time they spoke; truth be told, most times they’d spoken the last few weeks had been in water. She hadn’t manifested fully. They knew it was for the best, as she tried to conserve what she had as long as she could. “You do not think they are correct, young Gaius?”
He tilted an eyebrow at her inquisitively. “You do, I take it.”
She smiled faintly. “Kitai and I know you in ways they do not,” she noted. “You have been putting it off. Are you still uncertain of where you stand?”
With a snort, Tavi pushed himself upright to let his fingers dangle in the water. The rain in Calderon had been even more frigid when he hurled himself into Thana’s storm to chase after the Vord Queen. And rather than numb, as the creek did, it stung. Useful as the water was for healing, it did damage getting to him. “No,” he said quietly. “I’ll admit I didn’t want to face it for a while. That the burden, the duty… the responsibility to my people was on me for good know. But I faced it on the slopes of Garados. That’s part of why I haven’t bothered.”
Alera’s silence was at first punctuated only by her curious look. “I do not know if your grandfather would have agreed with your decision,” she said after they had been silent for several moments.
“I doubt it,” Tavi shrugged. “But I am the First Lord. Nothing the Senate says or does can change that now, and there have been more important things. While four cities were under siege, their lives had to come first—and I needed to be at Aquitaine when we freed them.”
That had been a particularly awkward series of meetings. Tavi had handled it as best he could. Learning about Aquitainus Attis’ relationship with Gaius Septimus had helped more than he’d expected. The High Lord had been a different man once. It had given Tavi far more material to work with when discussing the past and the future.
“Attica too,” he continued out loud. “At least by preference. After… what happened,” a succinct way of summarizing that Attica’s daughter had poisoned Sextus and, for all that she was the former First Lady, had more or less withdrawn from society entirely, “I wanted him to know I held no grudges. But half the cities will be freed. We’ll have time now.”
“There was more,” Alera noted.
A thousand years of experience with his family was, Tavi thought—not for the first time—an entirely unfair advantage. “Once I’m confirmed, I have to focus on policy,” he said quietly. “It needs to happen, but I can’t divert my attention much from it once I start. Too many fights I can’t neglect. I wanted to be sure everyone else knew how to handle re-taking the Realm before I left the field for good.”
She quirked an eyebrow at him, smiling slightly.
“Well, not immediately,” he allowed. “But soon. People without an agenda don’t seem to like the First Lord doing field combat more than absolutely necessary.”
“Quite,” Alera said dryly. Tavi really wondered whether they learned speech patterns from her or vice versa. “Will you return to Attica after your trip to Riva?”
Tavi chewed his lip, turning it over in his mind. “I doubt it. Attica should have things in hand, and we’ll need to start sending the Legions to Forcia. I’ll turn over command of the First Aleran to Max officially. It’s past time for his promotion anyway. I’ll take the next week or two cleaning up a few loose ends. I’ll still try to make it to whichever of Forcia or Rhodes gets freed next, but I don’t think I’ll make the last one. Kitai,” he explained.
Well. The baby, really. But that was a daunting prospect in a whole other way.
Alera knew, too, but seemed in a mood to let it pass with nothing more than a smile. “And after that week or two?”
Releasing a long, slow breath, Tavi simply nodded.
Max’s promotion wasn’t the only thing long overdue.
They were silent for another few moments. Alera didn’t leave, though. Tavi wondered what it was she had to say. He finally rose from the water, stepping out—leaving his wet boots for the moment—and silently reached out to take her hands in his. She let him. He turned it over, unable to hold back the pang of guilt at the sight of how much worse the disintegration had become since they had last spoken. They stayed that way for a long moment.
Then, at last, she pulled one hand free to push some hair out of her endlessly shifting eyes. “I will not be able to appear to you like this much longer, young Gaius.”
Tavi swallowed back the emotion. “I suspected,” he said quietly. “I’m almost surprised it hasn’t happened already.”
She offered a faint smile. “I expect I was formed to be hardier as a consciousness than I may have suspected,” she murmured. “The wills that forged me were certainly strong enough.”
“And you’ve been conserving your strength,” he noted. She nodded, and he resisted the urge to squeeze her hand. She seemed so fragile now. “Keep doing it. I don’t want to lose you a moment before I have to.”
“Such sentiment already, young Gaius?” she teased.
He gave her a little smile. “I’m working on an idea I want to talk about with you. My family has ice instead of blood, remember?”
Yes. More sentiment than he would have thought possible, considering he’d spoken with the Great Fury for less than a year. But she knew so much, and had seen so much, and been so deeply involved with his family—and he’d never get a chance to hear all that she could tell or learn all that she could teach. And she was a person, too. A part of his family in a way. And she was dying. They had killed her just as they had created her: his grandfather by destroying Alera Imperia, and even in a way Tavi himself, unleashing the Vord all those years ago.
The sense of responsibility was, he knew, a rather useless form of guilt, and ought to pale beneath the many other lives lost in the wars. He bore it all the same.
“It is always the way that you have more to discuss,” she murmured. And not just him, Tavi knew. His family. The First Lords.
He didn’t respond—she was right, and there was no need to acknowledge it further. She vanished a moment later. Tavi closed his now-empty hands on nothing but air and closed his eyes. Then he shook himself mentally and reached for his watercrafting to deal with those rather uncomfortably squishy and damp boots.
Araris would be worrying, he had things to tell Max, Fidelias, and Kitai, and he would be wanted at the camp. Maybe one day he’d have time to indulge in self-pity. Today he had far too much on his schedule for it.