Someone Trusted

"... Mother."

Her smile is warm, and for but a moment your troubles fade. She holds her hands out front, palms up, and signals you to her. Mere steps later you embrace her and tension eases from you as she pulls you in to press against her womanly form. She could always ease your worries, such seemed to be one of her great many talents. Perhaps it was simply a gift of motherhood, something all women could do for their children... you know not. After, what has become your customary greeting, you break apart and she presses her palm gently to the side of your face.

"And glad I am to hear it." She says then moves away from you towards the fireplace, "Now what brings you to see me my darling?"

You set your back straight and square your shoulders. To anyone else it would appear as an action to compose yourself, summon power, and set authority; but both she and you know it is merely an action for comfort. She is a tall woman but you are still a head larger, you have to hunch down when you hug her. "You missed yet another council meeting."

She bends at the waist to light the fireplace before acknowledging you. She stays that way a moment and you can almost detect a slight turn in her neck, as though she's checking to see if you're watching her. When she finishes she stands up straight again, and without looking at you answers, "Your need to establish yourself as their lord in the minds of those beneath you. If they see you constantly turn to me for advice it would undermine your authority."

Instinctively your jaw clenches, your muscles tense and the fire she just lit roars up in its stone confinement. "It's been more than a year since I've returned; they know I rule the Frostpeaks." You take a moment, and as your temper dies the flames settle. "And I don't always look to you for advice."

She turns to you with a playfully chiding look on her face, "Then what are you doing here hmm?"

Your shoulders slump and no doubt your features display defeated realization "Well... I don't always take it." More boyishness than you like seeps into your tone.

An amused smile crosses her lips and she almost laughs. "No, no you don't."

She turns to stare at the fire again and you watch her for a while. Not for the first time the thought strikes you that since you were a boy you'd been taught the ancient lineage of your family. You could trace your history all the way back to Lord Vincent Von Doom who assumed control of the Frostpeaks after the **** of the Dark Wizard more than thirty centuries ago. You were taught every Lord of the Spire from him all the way to your father. You know the wars that were fought, the treaties that were signed, and the marriages that were arranged, yet of your mother's family, you know absolutely nothing.

She is an immensely private woman. Of her past you know only that your father met her on a march for the king near the Great Northern Woods twenty some-odd years ago. Everything before that is a mystery. You've never met your grandparents, whenever you asked of them all she would say is "They're long gone". The one time you asked about people further back her answer was plainly, "They don't matter anymore".

"What troubles you my babe?" She finally asks, shaking you from your thoughts.

You move to the windows and gaze out towards the cloudy skies and falling rain. In the courtyard below you see young men, younger than you, with wooden equipment being drilled in combat by a sergeant. With dismay it seems to you that every month your new recruits get younger. Year after year for decades the crown has called upon the south for men to fight its wars and secure its lands. Year after year for decades the Duke of the Frostpeaks has answered that call, only to have them not return. Always there is one more fight, one more 'brush fire' to put out. You command the most skilled army in all of Itheria, the problem is your men are scattered throughout the country. All you have left to defend the south are men too old to fight, and boys too young to know how to. There are times you contemplate recalling every Frost Knight in Itheria to The Spire, where they should be. But it would take more than a month to gather them all, it would also alienate the northern nobles. And it would leave your cousin terribly weak.

"That might serve him right." You think coldly.

"An envoy of the king came today." You say finally, "Bryce asks for more men."

You hear your mother scoff, "Not even on the throne a day and already he saps you of your strength."

Two boys in the yard draw your attention, they clash their practice swords against each other while others watch, trying to learn. You idly wonder if those two are the best of the bunch... or the worst.

"I said no." You say and feel her shift her eyes towards you. "Told the envoy I had need of my men and that I'd send them only once I was finished."

"Good." Her response doesn't surprise you, it's well known she has no love for the crown. She pulls her shawl tighter and takes a step back from the fire. "Bryce must stand on his own feet, not have you carry him. There are other duchies in his kingdom that he's supposed to draw from as well. Yet the crown has always asked the Spire first. The boy king needs to learn many things, one is to command all of the country not just a duchy. If he succeeds he'll be a king of legend." The last she says almost mockingly.

"And if he doesn't?"

She turns back to the fire and puts out her hands to warm, "Then he won't be king for very long."

The room is quiet for a long time as she leaves you to think about that. It might not even be a bad thing. Eventually, she says "That's not what's on your mind is it?"

You move to sit on the sofa and shake your head "No."

She moves over to the side of the bookcase, and it's only now that you notice the wine jug and two goblets on a decorative table beside it. She fills both chalices and hands you one before stepping back to the fire. "So what is?"

You look into the dark liquid and swirl it around in the cup for a moment before taking a sip, "I have proof of Count Tannis' treachery."

Her eyes light up for a second before confusion crosses her face, "Then why so glum?"

"A goblin nest has been reported near Twin's Pass."

She nods twice and looks to be considering something before she says, "Summon Tannis and his men to The Pass as well. If he's ignorant of your proof he'll show and then you can take the green devils and his head right there."

You regard her with a look of tired dismissal and hold up your drink as if to toast. "I've ordered the men to march on Castle Hillgard. Sir Zachary seems to think it'll take a legion to wipe out the goblins but I'm not so sure. I need more information on the green menace, but Tannis I know. And he's escaped justice for far too long." You say and take another sip.

Her expression is contemplative, and you can tell she disapproves but fails to voice it. Instead she looks deeper into you than you would have thought possible. "That's still not it." You sigh. She knows you too well.

"A girl in council today."

Your eyes must play tricks, you swear you see the fire die down for but an instant.

"What... Girl?" Your mother asks.

For your life you can't remember her ever being overprotective. You remember when you were little she would always encourage you to be adventurous. "Go out my precious boy" she would say with a smile, "Seize the world!". You would run into the courtyard and fight the seagulls imagining them dragons, wage historic battles against the training dummies, and wander throughout the town on some grand quest for lost treasure. Always you would return to her, and she would reward you with the biggest hugs. At dinner you would regale her and your father with your grand tales born from your imagination. She would listen to every story, and revel in your excitement while your father planted seeds of new adventures in your young mind.

Then you left for the Coven.

You remember her that day, tears streaming down her face as she begged your father not to send you away. The sight had traumatized you surely, and the memory of it haunts you to this day. Until a year ago, that had been the last memory you had of your mother. In the decade you had spent with the Coven she had not come to visit you. You father had made the trip often, at least four times every year. And you have fond memories of him from those times. But she never came.

Not once.

When you returned it was a solemn time, the whole of the south was in mourning. While she no doubt felt the absence of your father, she had been overjoyed at your homecoming. In the end her happiness helped bring about your own. Yet when you came back, every time a woman entered your court her mood would sour and she would take an instant dislike to them. You didn't understand it then and, truth be told, you still don't understand it now. If you didn't know any better you would say that she's innately jealous whenever a woman catches your eye; almost as though your mother wanted you to look at her with lust. But it would be impossible for her to think that, she's your mother.

Her worst reactions however are reserved for Lady Adrianna. Your mother hates your teacher with a passion that certainly is only known by the gods. And to your knowledge, in the eight months since Lady Adrianna has arrived, the two have never met. It seems strange to you that she could hate so easily a complete stranger.

But, it's not your instructor who plagues your thoughts.

"A delegate from Father Landon... A priestess from his order." You answer.

Your mother seems tense, her chin up, jaw set. "And why does a priestess of some religious order you don't adhere to upset you so?"

"I-" you stare at the wine in your cup again trying to figure out the answer, "I don't know..."

"Yes you do." Her answer is terse.

You let out a heavy sigh and slump back in your seat. "I guess... because I like her."

She's quiet for a long time and nearly impossible for you to read. If anything you think she looks dejected, crestfallen, before she shakes her head. "No."

"What?"

She looks at you and answers again, calmly but firmly, "No."

"What do you mean 'No'? 'No' what?" You ask confused.

She relaxes now and not a little bit snobbish answers, "A priestess isn't suitable for you. Her first loyalty would always be to her god and your future wife must be completely devoted to you."

You shake your head and rise from your seat, "For the love of all the g- I'm not talking about marriage mom I'm just saying I like this girl." You step over to the fireplace and feel its heat on you, "You would deny me attraction?"

She steps over to you, places a hand on your cheek and gently urges you to turn around. A light, compassionate, smile plays across her lips and she subtly shakes her head. "There will come a time my love, soon, that you will discover..." She backs up slowly and sits down on the couch. Her shoulders subtly shrug causing the shawl to fall, and her arms spread out over the backrest of the love-seat. Her feet rest shoulder width apart causing the front tail of her skirt to fall between her spread thighs graciously, if barely, covering her nether. You see the fire's reflection in her eyes and there's a smolder about her expression that stirs... something in you. Her display is lewd to say the least; and you're caught completely off-guard by it, not entirely sure what to think. Then she finishes "I would deny you nothing."