As soon as the door closed behind us, she had my face in her hands, kissing me passionately and I did nothing to stop her, loving every moment of it. Soft, yet aggressive, her mouth caused the world about me to swirl, my mind to empty. Then she broke away and it all came rushing back in. I still held her and my eyes were still closed.
“Are you okay?” she said, laughing, knowing what she had done and its impact.
“Dear gods, yes!” I managed to get out, my heart still racing
“I just wanted to give you all I've got for now. We will need to put a damper on things until this crisis is over. Count Pelisir gave me a good scolding this morning, and he's right. Everyone needs to see me focused on their safety, not indulging myself.”
“Your words sting, My Love. I won't lie and say I'm happy about it. But I do understand. We all need a leader right now, and you wear the crown.”
I held her to me in a strong embrace. I wasn't mad at her, but I was mad at the circumstances.
I must be truthful, at 28, I've never felt this way about a woman. Ever. I'm sure it's love. It feels good. It hurts. It's overwhelming. I needed to just snap out of it, there was work to be done.
She spoke to me in a whisper, “I can see your consternation, Love. And I can see your understanding and acceptance as well. Your resignation.”
“Do you see me as a flower, May? A temporary thing to be thrown away when its brief life fades?”
She smiled, “You're letting Pelisir get to you, Darling. He uses that same tired metaphor every time he sees me smile at a Human. He just wants me for his own, Tendil. He's jealous. Did he also tell you he's married to his job?”
I smiled back, “Yes, he did. He plays the martyr’s role well. Too well. Surely a Gatekeeper Paladin should be above that sort of drama.”
“I'm a bit more forgiving, Tendil. He doesn't just have a crush. He truly loves me. We've been a part of each other's lives for over five hundred years. We know one another front to back. I think you have a hard time even imagining that amount of time, My Love.”
“He seemed to understand his place when he and I talked, May. I won't worry about the Count. I believe we are on good terms. As for the rest, there's nothing for it. We can't carry on like teenagers while the world comes down around us. We must be more responsible than that.”
A tear ran down her cheek. It would be okay. We both understood our places in all of this.
Abruptly changing the subject, May asked “What of your father and Cralix? Have you any news?”
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I hadn't, and that was concerning. “No, My Love. Not a thing. While we still have some time, I may have Ördelon send me to Sandlise, see what I can find out on my own.”
“If you think it would be fruitful, Dear, it can be arranged. But Ördelon is putting great effort into skrying for us right now. Perhaps he has more scrolls. We've been away long enough, Tendil. Let's go down and talk to Ördelon.”
She said my name as I turned to go back to the war room, “Yes, My Heart?”
She looked down at her feet, suddenly bashful, “I love you, Tendil.”
“I love you too, May.” I said with a lump in my throat. “Thank you for saying it. It means the world to me.”
Still looking at her feet, she said, sounding like she was tearing up, “I'm not so special, Tendil. I don't want you to set your expectations too high only to be disappointed.”
I shouldn't have, but I laughed at that and she gave me a terribly cross glare. I responded quickly “No, not so special. Actually you remind me of several beautiful, bright, warrior queens I used to dance with at the balls back home. As if I'd settle for common.”
“Let's go,” she said as she slapped my upper arm with surprising force, smiling and blotting her eyes on the tails of my tunic.
All of the Queen's planners, advisors, and servants were slowly filtering back into the dining hall when we returned. Pelisir, of course, shooting me a wilting glance, and there, Telest with his staring eyes and grinning like the Village Idiot.
“May,” I said, you should send these valets to get some real sleep; they've been up the whole night and they look like they're about to drop.”
“Oh, dear,” she said anxiously, “I forget they're but children! You're right, Mister Bascombe, of course.
Calling to one of the attending butlers, she had him round up and dismiss the valets. Two of them looked just short of falling asleep walking.
Gathering back around the crystal ball and maps, Pelisir told us, “The mercenaries move, Your Majesty. Heading due east toward Nez Clarë.”
May scanned the room quickly and called loudly “Mister Safter, get word to the Deep Elves immediately. Tell them that the clock has started.”
Bowing, he said “Yes, Your Majesty,” and he was off.
Looking over the maps carefully, May asked “What of the Swalesians? Do they move yet?”
Field Marshal Everyón took this question. “No, Your Majesty, they do not. But that includes activity in their staging areas and around their barges. That means they're ready to go as soon as the command is given.”
“Mister Plogue,” she addressed the other emissary, "what do you say on the Hobgoblins?”
He was momentarily vexed by the question. “Well, Your Majesty, they are not the same as what came at us under the Black Banner. I mean they're still the Red Fang. But it's as if their gods have tamed them. They're still nomads, some of them, and they are still fierce warriors, but they've begun to plant crops and build settlements rather than war camps.”
“Well, Mister Plogue,” she said, serious as she could be, “here's a chance to test your skills.”
Plogue looked aghast. “But, Your Maj …” he began, only to be cut off.
“How many are in the fens, Field Marshal Everyón? Warriors I mean.”
“Well, My Queen, they're all warriors. And I would say roughly 50,000 of them.”
Thinking to herself for a moment, “And wouldn't you say, Field Marshal, that the Swalesians are as much a threat to the Hobgoblins as they are to us?”
“Certainly, Your Majesty. The Swalesians will look to kill or enslave every one of us, regardless of species.”
She turned to the emissary, “Mister Plogue, you are to negotiate a peace with the Hobgoblins. They can keep the fens and dry land within ten miles of them. They can also have a two-percent gross share of the amber concession, excluding the included stones.”
Plogue had been scribbling frantically into a small journal.
“For their part, Mister Plogue, they need to get out of the way of the Swalesians, allow them to pass, then fold in behind them as they enter the woods. They should skirmish, harass, and do what they can to disrupt the building of siege machinery. Is that clear?”
Finishing his writing, he said “Yes, Your Majesty; I'll do the best that I can. Their tongue I fear has not been spoken by me in several years, but I believe their grasp of the Common Tongue to be better than the Swalesians. I'll get it done, My Queen.”
“Very well, Mister Plogue; tell them we can revisit the agreement in five year's time and make any amendments if necessary. Now be off.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said bustling off. You could see how proud he was to be trusted with so dangerous and complicated a mission.
May addressed everyone standing about the table. “Well, all the pieces move now, gentlemen. All there is for us to do is to monitor them and ready ourselves for siege. Now, Mister Bascombe and I have a funeral to attend.”
I looked at her, questioningly, surprised, but she merely smiled back and bade me to accompany her.
image [https://i.imgur.com/8hsvlmo.jpeg]