We continue staring at each other long enough that it starts to get awkward. The men drinking inside the tavern go back to their games, cards, and cups. Noise swells, but I don’t even blink. It’s not illegal, what this tavern owner– no, what this whole town– is doing. I have no doubt that the other families living here will also refuse us bed and board for the night. Technically, they don’t have to provide us with services, with food and shelter, even if we have the coin to pay for it. It goes against everything I’ve been taught though, all the tenets of polite society!
I wouldn’t have minded nearly as much if they’d just informed Faladel and I ahead of time, sent us a flat ‘no’ as a response when I’d written to ask if we could pay them a visit on our way north. But instead, they toyed with us. This man, probably not the town leader, but at least their spokesperson for now, participated in the equivalent of a bait and switch, telling us in writing that the only problem might be in payment for goods, but now refusing to house us no matter how much we give him because of Faladel is the Prince. It is exactly the sort of thing that I was hoping to avoid, but now that it’s in my face, I can’t just back down and let it happen. But I can’t see any way to stop it either. Besides trying to take on everyone in this place, but even with all my training and Faladel and Myrddin at my side, I doubt we’d be able to get through the twenty men in the tavern. Considering the size of this town and how many men are in here, it looks like they were preparing for just that. A violent reaction.
Faladel suddenly places a hand on my shoulder. I’d forgotten that he’d gotten off his horse and approached us. “If there truly aren’t any rooms available for us, it’s no use scowling at the man.” He says, with good natured ease. “We can just camp outside of town, and move on in the morning. What’s one more night on the road after all?” Hand still holding my shoulder, gently but firmly, he steers me back towards the street.
“The beds probably have lice anyway.” I toss back over my shoulder, a lot less good naturedly. I notice, slightly surprised as I clamber on to Myrddin's back, that Faladel doesn’t protest my cheap shot, which makes my still simmering anger flit to the back of my mind for a moment. What exactly is going on here? I think back on my memories, and yes, both Normal Faladel, and Prince Faladel would have protested that sort of response. Is there a third personality emerging? What should I call this one? I glance at the lone figure riding ahead of me out of the tiny town’s limits and into the quickly darkening woods. Unprotesting Faladel? Smoothing Faladel? I shake my head emphatically and frown. None of these names are good enough. They just don’t ring right. And I’m still to upset to give any ideas a proper thought, so I leave off there and jump to another train of thought, glaring at my horse.
“This is really all your fault.” I grumble down at him. Myrddin shakes his mane in disbelief– as if wondering how my brain jumped to that conclusion. But it is easy enough leap. “You were the one who dared me!” I accuse him. “If you hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have even touched the door. We would probably have continued through the town, and gone out the other side, easy as a lark!” He just rolls his eyes at me.
“Briareth?” Faladel asks, in evident confusion. “What were you saying? I don’t think I heard you right.”
“Oh, nothing.” I proclaim.”Just chatting with Myrddin.” He stares at me and my horse a bit longer, before urging his to continue onwards.
“I really don’t understand you sometimes.” He says quietly, probably not intending me to overhear him.
“Me too.” I mutter, meaning that I don’t understand him sometimes, not that I don’t understand me. I understand me perfectly well, but Faladel… Well, he gets so twisted up inside that I can’t make heads or tails of his outside!
Once it gets dark enough that it’s difficult to see the path before us, Faladel pulls his horse to a stop, and I stop behind him. We start up the quick routine of setting up camp for the night, and once we’re done I ask him the question that was left when all my anger had simmered away.
“Why did you just let them off easy?” I say, propping myself up against a nearby tree and popping my aching muscles. “I mean, we could have at least tried to make them respect us. Made it clear that they shouldn’t treat people like that. Shouldn’t treat you like that.”
“I can’t win every battle, Briareth.” Faladel says softly, and then turns to me, “But thank you for trying to fight for me.” There is a genuine smile on his face. I sigh, wanting to be mad at him for stopping me back there. Wanting to be mad at Myrddin for daring me. Wanting to be mad at myself for being mad enough to take a horse’s– even a very opinionated horse’s– dare. But I can’t be mad at any of us. It wouldn’t really be fair. The best I can do is be mad at the whole situation, and grumpily fall asleep.
A few more weeks pass slowly as the woods get less leafy and more needley. Eventually, we reach the river from last time and the outpost there, and use its large raft to bring us, the horses, and all of our supplies downstream. The water is cold, despite the summer warmth. Both of the horses are nervous, and we do our best to sooth them, but Myrddin distrusts both the rushing cold water beneath us and the flimsy looking raft. And it’s all Faladel can do to get his mare, Ethiel, back onto the raft after the first night off it. After a few hours of discussion, we decide to leave the raft at one of the small outposts along the river and continue on by horseback instead of unsettling our four-legged friends any further. Ethiel is a sweet creature, albeit one who is overly fond of red apples. Despite that, I don’t want to accidentally traumatize her or anything.
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Faladel has been surprisingly quiet overall, slowly reverting from Prince Faladel to Normal Faladel the further we get away from the last town. The change is slow but steady. And at the end of it, at the base of the mountains that still have snow cresting their tops, he looks at me one evening and drops a minor mountain on me.
“I’m thinking of not running for Kingship, Briareth.” He says, as we both stare up at the stars through the needled branches. I’m so shocked, that I let him continue without comment. “I know you and my parents don’t really want me in the position. I’m not sure I understand why, I thought I was doing quite well.” At this nonsense my brain finally kicks back into motion and I jerk upright.
“Faladel–!” I begin to protest, but he holds up a hand, golden eyes not looking at me, but still reflecting the stars.
“Wait until I’m done, Briareth. Please. It’s not easy for me to lay bare my thoughts like this.” I clamp my jaw shut obediently, but it’s not easy to stay silent as he continues. “If you three, who know me best, don’t think I’m suited for the job, I found myself wondering if it was right to continue on. How long would it take until those who elected me felt disillusioned and disappointed in me? How long would it take me to fail so miserably that they wished I’d never taken the seat of power?” He sighed, and covered his eyes with his hands. “Being out here reminded me of something. Who I am back in the capital is just a persona. An act. Being like that for the rest of my life would be impossible. And if they elected that person, if I ever let the act fall, I would fail miserably to match up.” I gaped at him wordlessly. How did he get our thoughts so horribly horribly wrong, but with the right ending? It’s not that he would be bad for the country, it’s that the country would be bad for him!
“...So I’m thinking,” Faladel continues, and I realize belatedly, that I missed something. “That I just shouldn’t run at all. Say that I don’t wish to be King, so please don’t vote for me. I know it’s never been done before, and it might disgruntle people, but surely people won’t say ‘Yes, I want this person to take the throne.’ if they’ve already declared that they don’t want it. And it’s not like there aren’t plenty of other contenders.” He raises his hand from his eyes, to count them off on his fingers. “The heads of the Sarfina, Lorien, and the Magdove families to name a few, and of course the Erhorn family.” He glances at his fingers. “I’m sure there were more, but I can’t recall them just now, they’re not serious contenders at any rate.”
I’m aghast. “Adamar’s parents?” I say stupidly. “Those Erhorns?”
“Oh yes.” Faladel looks at me, confused by my sudden interjection. “I’m surprised you hadn’t caught on. They’ve been angling to be in the spotlight more for ages, trying to build up name recognition. It’s why they’ve been selling their inventions at a loss, so that they can reach more of the populace. And the fact that they wouldn’t allow their son to attend the peace anniversary celebration suggests that they’re either fully invested in his finals, or are working on something big and don’t want to risk anything messing it up.” He hesitates. “Although to me, Adamar never seemed like the type to accidentally spill secrets or act improperly. Perhaps he’s changed? It has been quite a while since we saw him last.”
“Nobody changes that much.” I mutter, as my mind whirls trying to absorb these new facts. “Faladel.” I finally break in through all the clutter, and cut straight back to the heart of the matter. “It’s not that your parents and I think you would be a bad King–. ” I hesitate, and then just go for it. Better to betray his parents' trust than to have him go on thinking they don’t approve. “Quite the opposite in fact. We just worry that being King might be bad for you.” I shift uncomfortably and lie back down. “It’s like you said, all acting, and you seemed less happy. Your parents and I got worried, so we talked together. And we came to a conclusion. Be selfish Faladel. Make the decision that you think is best for you. Not for the Kingdom, not for your people, what’s best for you. We’ll support you, whatever you choose.” I grin as I turn to face him. “I know this borders on treason, since I’m sworn to serve the country and all that, but I want you to be happy, more than I want someone I know to be good at the job on the throne. And” I drop my voice comically “I think your parents agree with me.”
“Be…” Faladel hesitates “Selfish?”
“Yep!” I confirm proudly. “Like me! Here’s an example; I really wanted to go on an adventure, so I convinced your parents that being away from the capital would be what's best for you, in order to snag a vacation from the endless piles of paperwork!” Faladel snorts trying to suppress a laugh. He fails miserably as I continue breezily. “I mean, I had a good point there. But my main motivator was definitely adventure. You getting the time and space to learn your own mind was merely a convenient excuse to kidnap you.” I hesitate. “But is it really a kidnapping if you agreed to go with me? Even if it was under false pretenses?” I wonder aloud. “What do you think, Faladel?”
“Definitely a kidnapping.” Faladel gasps out between bouts of laughter.
“Well,” I say, self-righteously, “Let’s compromise and say I borrowed you without permission, since I always intended on returning you.” Faladel laughs so hard at this that I can see tears spilling down his face in the moonlight. Unable to hold back any longer, a grin splits my face and I join in his laughter. Myrddin snorts in annoyance, as if complaining to Ethiel about our disruptive behavior, and shakes his head disapprovingly. I only laugh harder.
We only stop when we are completely exhausted, and then Faladel says. “Thank you Briareth, I really think I needed that.”
“Anytime.” I reply, grinning up at the moon, quite proud of myself for how I handled that.
Just as I’m about to fall asleep, I think I hear Faladel murmur “be selfish?” And I feel sorry that it’s such a new concept to him.