#i never cared for tristan but he is the man of the hour every september for the editors

[teddypickerry]

tumblr recently has made me realize how few of us have tiktok (i envy you) haha. i never look up gilmore girls content anywhere but here because of how much i disagree with a lot of their takes (e.g. rory’s just an annoying brat). but the show trends every autumn and you really can’t escape it! the entire new generation watching the show are pretty much OBSESSED with tristan. which, yeah i don’t get. i guess that’s what happens when you see chad michael murray the first time.

Listen I know that he wasn't a boyfriend and was only in 11 episodes

But it is WILD to me that we never talk about Tristian!! Not ever? I have been in and out of this fandom since 2007, I have never seen even a meta post about him

We talk about Marty! Who was in fewer episodes in seasons people like less!

I'm not saying I hold a candle for this little fuck but he's a sad white boy with daddy issues that fact that this fandom doesn't have a few overgrown feral Tristan girlies (that I've seen in the past 16 years anyway) is SHOCKING

[housemartius]

i’ve had an hc that dakota is native american for a long time now, and after reading this awesome post i was inspired and like “what if he and piper were cousins??” so let me share some things i’ve imagined about them so far (warning: this is one long ass post):

- they were both born and raised in tahlequah, oklahoma (not in a reservation tho bc there’s no cherokee reservation in oklahoma, rick’s an idiot who doesn’t research anything)

- dakota is two years older than piper and that made him a bit overprotective of her while growing up. even when they were kids, piper got a lot of attention from mostly other boys (which would later make her feel super self conscious of her own looks) and dakota would pick up on her discomfort and shoo away all of them in an instant

- like seriously, he’s a pretty observant kid and piper would always flinch when a boy got too close for comfort. so dakota was always more than ready to help her out

- imagine how overjoyed grandpa tom was when he found out he was going to be a grandpa, twice, in such a short span of time. dakota had barely just turned 1 year old when tristan announces the woman he’s dating is pregnant tom cried so much, bless him

- now grandpa is no fool though. he knew something was up with the ppl his children were dating, he knew they weren’t ordinary folks. and he suspected his future grandchildren wouldn’t be exactly ordinary either. and how right he was

- just a few months after he was born in september 1992, baby dakota was taken on a little trip with his mom and grandfather around tulsa and they came across a huge vineyard

- it’s january and it’s hecking cold (like 50ºF/10ºC) and the vines, as you’d expect, are basically dead. that’s when something remarkable happens: the plants start to reach out towards dakota and the closer he is to them, the livelier they get

- grandpa is shocked to say the least but he plays it cool. he just turns towards his daughter and calmly asks “care to explain please” to which she then proceeds to spill the beans about how she met the roman god of wine whose son is currently being held by grandpa tom

- tom is really surprised that his daughter dated an actual immortal deity from ancient times, or that they even exist at all (he thought greek myths, and therefore roman by extension, were a bunch of bull). yet at the same time he’d been suspecting the dude wasn’t completely human for a while now...

- in the end he happily accepts both his daughter’s love for bacchus (if that’s even who he really is) and the son they had, and never loves dakota any less even now that he knows he’s a demigod

- except they don’t tell tristan bc 1. bacchus told dakota’s mom to keep it a secret (whoops), 2. tristan’s a skeptic who doesn’t believe in any kind of myths so what’s the point and 3. tristan’s sweetheart is pretty high guard about her own identity and grandpa’s noticed this and he thinks she’s hiding the truth from his son for a good reason (again, he is such a skeptical man, he’d probably think they were all insane)

- april 1994. piper is born and an almost 2 y/o dakota is finally introduced to the cousin he’d been hearing so much about

- both love their grandfather and listening to stories about their culture. and grandpa loves that his grand-kids are so keen on learning

- they live a pretty happy childhood overall. apart from dakota’s innate abilities to making vines grow whenever he walks by (though he remains oblivious to this bc his mom goes to great efforts to ensure he doesn’t find out so soon, he’s still a little kid after all), none of his other powers manifest all that much when he’s a toddler. and neither do piper’s

- ofc, being demigods they’re constantly exposed to the danger of being discovered by monsters but they luck out and continue living in ignorant bliss of their godly parentage

- they love being outside. playing, napping, talking, whatever it is, they don’t like being indoors. they’re always running around everywhere, climbing trees, rolling around in the grass, etc it’s a very rare occurrence when they manage to return home with clean clothes

- they just have a looot of energy and they like using it. getting them to calm down is a challenge in itself, they’re always goofing around. whether they’re having a nice family dinner (food fights tend to occur more often than not), or watching cartoons before bedtime (reenacting cool fight scenes is a must!)

- but then one day, just a few weeks after his 8th birthday, dakota shows up at tristan’s house with his mom and she says she needs to talk with his uncle and grandfather

- the kids are told to go play for a little while in the backyard to let the grown ups have some privacy

- dakota is uncharacteristically quiet. piper notices it right away, how her cousin’s shoulders are slacked and his eyebrows furrowed in distress. she asks what’s wrong, what happened to make him so sad

- “i have to move away” he says. piper is shocked, starts asking why. why, where to, and can’t the whole family go with him?

- “no. just me. somewhere far away”. “but why?!”. “because it’ll be bad if i don’t”

- the rest of the day goes by in a blur. piper can’t understand what’s happening. why does dakota have to go all alone? why can’t her aunt go too? why don’t her dad or her grandfather try to stop them?

(- later, when piper demands her dad for explanations, tristan only says what his sister told him: that dakota needs to go somewhere that’ll be better for him, that piper’s aunt can’t take care of him by herself. grandpa tom tells her the same thing whenever piper turns to him but he knows. his daughter told him the truth)

- saying goodbye is the only moment that seems to last an eternity though. piper is full on crying and sobbing, holding on to dakota with all her strength and begging her cousin to stay, stay and everything will be okay bc he’ll be with her and all the people who love him

- dakota cries too, though not as hard. he’s barely keeping it together but he’s the older cousin and he needs to be strong for piper

- inside though he’s terrified of what’s happening to him. to him and to his mom and now his dear little cousin and his uncle and grandpa. he wants to stay but bacchus was clear during his sudden unexpected visit: he needs to go to the wolf house right away

- his mom takes him there. this goodbye is even more terrible than the previous one. in the midst of all the crying he promises that he’ll be okay, that he loves her and will visit as soon as he can

- dakota hadn’t had the fortune (or permission) of visiting his mom and granddad back in tahlequah often. and the few times he had managed, piper had been away with her dad on his trips looking for a job as an actor in los angeles

- one day, now 13 y/o, he was at his mom’s place with his grandfather too, just sitting and talking and enjoying each other’s company when they decided it was time to tell him the horrible news: his grandpa had been diagnosed with lung cancer

- tom reassured him all throughout his grandson’s hysterics that he felt fine and that he was at peace with the situation

- and then dakota asked the dreaded question

- “... how long?”

- “... soon”

- when dakota made it back to camp he started asking around for possible cures, talking with praetors and centurions and just about anyone who might help him

- though in the end he didn’t find any medicine that could possibly save his grandfather

- and it’s not like the romans really cared for helping outsiders either

- the day he got the news grandpa tom had passed away, just a little over 2 months later, he refused to leave his bunk bed for the remainder of it and it took his two centurions to force him out of it the next morning

(- dakota swears that, out of all the days he’d felt the most lonely and in need of the warm comfort of his family, that had been the most painful one he’d endured in his whole life)

(- he also wondered if piper had known about their grandfather’s condition, and for one moment he actually hoped she didn’t just so she could be spared of going through the same despair he and the rest of their family had)

(- he’d also wished, more ardently than ever before, to be able to hug his beloved little cousin again just like he had so many times years before)

- fast forward to 2010. dakota is standing with the rest of the romans at cj, staring at a greek ship that quickly approaches camp

- his long time friend jason is said to be on board and dakota is just dying to give the dude the longest and most bone crushing hug ever

- plot twist: it’s piper who gets the pleasure of receiving the longest and most bone crushing hug ever. but she returns it tenfold rip dakota’s back

- their reunion was a hazard mix of tears, laughter and wrestling. he and jason happily gave piper a tour of the camp, though tbh she didn’t really pay attention to much, catching up with her fave cousin was obviously the priority

- during her quest to save the world, she iris messages dakota as regularly as she can and they talk for hours on end, sharing stories from their past, their family, their beloved grandpa tom whom they missed terribly every single day, everything really

- piper confides in him how much her dad’s lack of interest and pride for cherokee culture has rocked her own, how growing up with him so absent from her life and so worried with rejecting everything cherokee/native american related had made her feel so uncomfortable in her own skin

- dakota takes all this in silence and just lets her get it all out. he hears her every complaint and insecurity and fear. then he starts telling her the stories their grandfather had told them

- he tells at least 2 different ones every night they talk, always with a smile on his face, always trying to replicate the exact same tone and pace their granddad used

- and it eventually gets piper to smile too

- one night it’s dakota who confesses how much he regrets not visiting tahlequah more often, how he wishes he’d spent more time with thomas before he’d passed away, how he wished he’d been with him during those last few days if not to just hear him going on and on about cherokee myths like he loved to

- that gets piper crying in no time. dakota cries too. they just spend a good 10 minutes sobbing together through their reflections in the watery rainbow, neither saying much

- “i’m glad he told us. the stories i mean”, dakota says when they’ve calmed down. “feels like he gave us little pieces of himself bit by bit that’ll never go away”

- “yeah... it really does” 

- when the war’s finally over, piper and dakota visit each other often, though piper’s the one who goes to cj more often since dakota’s a centurion and has his plate full most of the time

- they’re still as goofy and energetic around each other as ever, like the time they spent away from each other was like clicking pause on a movie and now they’ve hit play and continued on from there

- still hate being trapped indoors. when there’s camp meetings they both need to attend they just can’t help but joke around. everyone else dreads going to those now thanks to these idiots

- dakota isn’t as chaotic as piper so he somewhat helps to keep that side of her in check

- when leo accompanies her during her visits though... no point in even trying to hold back this Mess, dakota’s tried before and it was the most stressful and tiring day of his fucking life

- piper constantly teases dakota about his crush on her half-brother michael. he very much regrets the day she ever saw how he acted around the son of venus (a blushy neck scratching mess)

- wow this is getting long fhdkds anyway!! they’re amazing kids who love each other to death and constantly support each other through good and bad times, and they’re proud af to be cherokee and they’ll treasure their beloved grandpa tom and his teachings till the end of their lives, and if anyone ever wants to hear a story, they’re the right kids to go to!

[elliemarchetti]

What if (part 4)

Finally I managed to find the time to finish this chapter, which is definitely longer than the others but also much more loaded with contents than I could actually expect; there were too many things to say, too many POVs not yet explored and that needed to be heard and I wanted to do everything well. @lilyharvord @chaoslaborantin hope you like this too and to everyone who’s new to this story, here you can find the previous chapters. Enjoy!

Plot: 320 NE, Coriane is Queen of Norta and mother of Cal and Maven

Word count: 5545

Monday 6, September 320 NE

Coriane waited with patience, wisely hidden, as only those who are used to crawl in the shadows to not be seen can do. At four in the morning, Mare left her room, heading for Maven's. When her second son opened the door, his pale face stood out in stark contrast to the darkness, the dark clothes, and big, deep dark circles that weighed down the pale blue eyes he had inherited from her. Despite almost no military training, Maven was a good strategist, but Coriane had kept secrets to her parents a long way before him, and knew every technique, every trick her son was trying to use.

A few minutes and they were out. They walked in the dark, yet another beginner's mistake: as they counted on the favor of the shadows not to be seen, even anyone who wanted to follow or attack them could do it.

The night began to dissolve, leaving space for a dark blue sky where the stars were rapidly fading. When he was young, when Tibe was not a king, they had spent a few nights lying in the garden, under the perennial and silent control of the sentries, watching the stars. It was something he had seen done to Julian and Sara when the court and Archeon were still only a distant and indefinite image in his mind, a possibility not to be taken into consideration either. They were lying, and he pointed to the constellations, the new names and the old ones, all notions absorbed by enormous tomes to which he alone could be interested in that house. She wondered if Julian and Sara still did it, even now that they had been married for so long. She and Tibe had certainly never had the chance. Or time. And maybe not even the desire. When they finally arrived in the large bedroom they shared, they fell asleep in each other's arms without even the strength to say goodnight, without the energies to whisper doubts and fears as they used to do once. This didn’t take anything away from the love she felt for him, only things had changed. Being sovereign would have changed anyone.

At that hour, the city sank into an unnatural stillness; even patrol officers were moving sleepily from one location to another. It was the perfect moment to do illicit acts under the nose of those who should’ve prevented it. Therefore, she wasn’t surprised when the Scarlet Guard’s captain appeared from the shadows.

"Where are the others?" asked Maven composed, professional. He didn’t even sound like her son.

"Well hidden in the drains, where they will remain." Coriane answered instead of the blond girl, coming out of her hiding place. She advanced silently like a cat but with the stride of a tiger. The years at court had taught her so much, but above all that a composed façade, even when you’re shaking inside, was everything. And she had several reasons to shake, with the girl's gun pointed at her head.

"Lower the gun, I have no intention of hurting you." she hissed, remembering a voice that even years later still populated her nightmares. It was a sibylline voice, which even when she was telling one of her rare compliments, actually hid a threat. The Red hesitated for a moment, then lowered the gun, but didn’t put it back in her holster, and never took her finger off the trigger. She was ready to shoot at any eventuality. It was good: they were all risking a lot to be out there with her.

"I think you should give me some explanations, but for those we will have time later, in the safety of my private rooms." she said, addressing her son and his betrothed. Both tried to avoid her inquiring look, but Coriane understood their reasons, or at least could try to guess them.

"You, instead," she finally said, looking straight at the Red, "call your men."

Something seemed to snap into the young woman's mind, and Coriane still feared she wanted to shoot her, that she would leave her body bleeding there on concrete, while neither Maven nor Mare would have the readiness, or the strength or courage, to help her. How much was he willing to sacrifice for a utopia? The power of his family, surely, but also its members? Even those who loved him more? From the hardness in his eyes, she couldn’t say.

“There will be no red dawn” she ended, recovering the façade of the queen who doesn’t bend, who fears nothing, not even death. To look powerful is to be powerful, or at least was what her worst enemy used to say. And she had crushed her, just as she would’ve done with the Scarlet Guard if they had come between her and her plans.

“At least for now.” she added, with a devious smile, before turning her back to the blonde girl. Mare and Maven followed her like ducklings with their mother, their gaze fixed on their feet. The only eyes she felt on her back were blue as ice, and she didn’t need to turn to know that they weren’t as full of resentment as they should’ve been.

 Wednesday 15, September 320 NE

Thomas was uncomfortable. He had been on the underground train that had led him from Naercey to Archeon, and was at that moment, deep in the royal palace’s library. Maven had already reassured him several times that no one, at that hour of the night, would dare set foot in that wing of the library, which moreover, with the help of his uncle, had been temporarily closed for restoration. Yet Thomas jerked at every crunch; if they had found him there, no one could have prevented the king from having him executed. Of course, Maven could have invented an excuse, weaving one of his canvases of lies, but in any case would have compromised himself, and Thomas wasn’t stupid enough to believe that the prince would jeopardize even a shred of his reputation for him.  So they both sat stiff, stretching out to peek at the pages of what seemed like a harmless little notebook, but containing the names of all those who could change the fate of Norta, making the Scarlet Guard a real threat to the crown and not just a pebble in the shoe.

"I think the first stage of the Coronation Tour should be Harbor Bay." Maven finally said, breaking the silence that had fallen on the library like a cloak. He spoke in a low voice, but didn’t try to whisper, confident in his uncle power.

"While most of the Silvers will be busy enjoying our show, you could sneak almost undisturbed to Coraunt, where you'll find the newblood Nix Marsten. He's a middle-aged man, so expect him to struggle to believe the possibility of being different, even if he should’ve known it all along."

Thomas listened, receptive, trying to memorize every word. He couldn’t take notes, if they caught him they would blow their only, real chance to change things in a reasonable time, and he would’ve condemned all those innocent people to death, but at the same time he couldn’t look away from Maven’s almost feminine lips. Many boys, most of those he knew, at least, didn’t have that kind of traits, and no one would ever call Maven nice, not with his brother's bright beauty to obscure him, yet Thomas preferred his traits to the throne’s heir’s, his eyes of an almost colorless blue to his brother's bronze’s. Maven's was a silent beauty, which often went unnoticed, but it could hit your heart when he smiled, or when he allowed himself to bite his lower lip to concentrate better. If you could get used to Cal's beauty, be bored of it, even, Maven’s was to be discovered, like those wooden dolls slipping into each other.

“In our stay in Harbor Bay, we will stay at Ocean Hill; it's my mother's favorite place and no one will be too suspicious if she wants to spend here more than necessary. Mare and I should be able to take care of the three newbloods living in Harbor Bay, even if reaching the one in the suburbs could prove to be more difficult than expected, given the attention that will be on us. "

Thomas had to admit that, up to that point, Maven's plan, or perhaps his mother's, wasn’t that bad, even if he barely tolerated the idea of Mare’s participation, partly because she was Shade's sister and he didn’t want to endanger her more than she already was in that den of vipers, partly because the idea that the prince could spent more time in the company of his betrothed caused him a bit of annoyance in the stomach. Tristan, of course, had wanted to talk about his reaction when Mare and Maven had taken their hands in the greenhouse at Summerton, but Thomas had tried to minimize it. As much as he tried, however, Thomas had never been a great liar or a good spy, so he was sure Tristan hadn’t believed a single word and talked about it with Farley. Perhaps that was the reason why the captain had entrusted this mission to him.

"The next stop will be Cancorda. There’s only one newblood there, so we won’t need the Guard's intervention, at least to recruit him. You’ll attack on our second day of stay, on the night that flows into the third, when the newblood is already safe and in journey to Naercey. Don’t waste your best men, this’ll be just a diversion, a way to force my parents to increase the number of sentinels in the various stages of the Tour and then leave Archeon free, but not even the unwary: none of us can hold back, if we’ll come to a fight, and to leave Archeon weakened the excellence of the Silvers will have to follow us in the Tour.”

Thomas nodded, the only sign of his understanding that he was able to deliver. They had attacked places of strategic importance, were even ready to take the capital with Mare and Maven’s help, but taking Archeon alone, counting only on the distance of the most important and powerful Houses, was almost too much.

"I know it can be scary," Maven said, reaching for his hand on the table, grabbing it firmly. Thomas stiffened slightly, but Maven didn’t let him go, allowing him to get used to his unusual warmth. “But if our plan succeed, a red dawn will rise on Norta sooner than expected.”

Thomas just smiled, nervous. He didn’t understand the boy's motivations, yet he wanted to believe him more than anything else in the world.

 Thursday 25, September 320 NE

When the sun broke free of the earth’s slavery and leaned on Norta, the dawn greeted a tangle of bodies that bled red and silver.

Many battles had taken place on that land, but that wasn’t like the others, and everyone, Silvers and Scarlet Guard’s members, felt it. Each Red and newblood soldier was aware that the clash would decide Norta’s fate, whether they were aware of the plans of the captain who led them.

Tristan knew the plan by heart, and for now it seemed to work: the queen had really managed to leave the city unguarded enough to allow the Scarlet Guard to fight on equal terms and the remaining Silvers seemed frightened, as if they perceived the sense of inevitability that had gripped the stomach to all those who had left for that mission. It was time to pay for their actions, and the Silvers knew it, but the Scarlet Guard’s members felt an even greater weight on their shoulders: if they won, that day would forever change Norta’s story, finally forcing the Silvers to listen to the Reds, to pay attention, to accept them as equals, as a threat to the great power they thought they deserved by birthright.

From his facilitated position, Tristan glanced at Rasha, who was fighting in the front line, opening the way for other soldiers, inciting her companions, convincing them that victory was possible. He was proud of her. His beloved warrior was able to inspire people without needing any rank badge on her jacket, without any kind of power or ability: she was a pure Red, someone who lost and was still able to make people smile, to put the weight of their fears on her shoulders.  The shadow of a smile lit up his pale, gaunt face: until she was alive, hope wouldn’t abandon the Scarlet Guard.

Evangeline waited for the king and the queen to ascend on the small stage, followed by Cal, her betrothed. The Coronation Tour was usually a joyous occasion, of those where lavish parties are given in honor of future rulers, but since the Scarlet Guard attacked their residence in Cancorda, security agents had increased dramatically and they were indeed forced to respect a curfew that prevented them from even wandering through this or that lord’s residence’s rooms. This, of course, had certainly not prevented Elane from visiting her, or Wren from attending Ptolemus's rooms more than they should, considering that the cousins Skonos were, in her opinion and probably also that of the guards, little more than a part of the servitude , but she had noticed a certain dissatisfaction on Cal and Mare’s face. Only a blind man wouldn’t have noticed that something was happening between those two, but Evangeline didn’t give that any importance: that he occupied his time as best he could, provided he was at safe distance from her and her encounters with Elane. Prince Maven had also changed, but Evangeline couldn’t have defined how: she had never paid too much attention to Tiberias’ second son, partly because she already knew she would never have to marry him, partly because he was younger than she, yet she could say with certainty that something had changed in him since they had left, as if he had left a part of himself at home. That he too had a lover? It would have been ironic, even though before the Tour it had seemed to her that there really was something between him and Mare. Not that the loving interweaving of the royal family were her main interest, but in fort Lencasser, before getting on a stage next to a betrothed for which she would never even have felt the slightest attraction, she didn’t have much else to keep her mind busy with.

Because of the small-sized stage, the members of House Samos, Haven and Skonos who had accompanied her on the Tour had to stay with the rest of the Silvers in the audience. Her brother wore a simple cut suit, all black, with silver trim, the colors of their House, which highlighted his white complexion and platinum blonde hair, matching perfectly with his eyes black like wells, just as hers. Beside him, Elane stretched her neck, hoping to see, at least in part, her figure. She'd helped her get dressed, like worthy sister-in-law should do, somebody would say, and Evangeline, to hear such a comment, would probably have to commit to holding back laughter. On Ptolemus’ left, Wren was waiting at an adequate and painful distance, which Evangeline knew too well. How hurtful she was to see Ptolemus and Elane be affectionate with each other in public, something she could never do, how much she suffered while knowing that it was all fiction, accepted by her brother only for her sake.

She wore an icy smile and climbed onto the stage. Some whispered to each other, and Evangeline couldn’t be more satisfied: she had spent more than two hours preparing, applying makeup with maniacal precision and anyone who had looked at her had to think that she resembled more a vengeful goddess than a young woman.

Immediately after Maven went up, the suit with a different cut from his brother’s, but with the same colors, those of House Calore, his expression a flurry of emotions. Something definitely wasn’t right in the prince and judging by his pallor, Evangeline hoped he wouldn’t throw up on her silver shoes.

The line was closed by Mareena, wearing a simple dark purple dress, supported by a very thin silver chain, which clung to her thin neck. She seemed uncomfortable too; that she and Maven had a fight? King Tiberias’ words prevented her from lingering further on that thought.

"The Coronation Tour is always a joyous event, even when only one marriage is celebrated." the crowd chuckled, but it was a false sound, which came wrong to her ears, issued only because it was the king who uttered that terrible joke. After all, perhaps, Cal had inherited something else, besides the appearance, from his father.

“As you have seen for yourself, the Queenstrial has given us more than a future queen, bringing us back the daughter of our beloved general Ethan Titanos, and restoring a family that we thought was definitely extinct. "

Despite her efforts, Evangeline stopped listening. She had heard Mareena’s story too many times to consider it still of some interest. She recovered only when Cal began his speech, which as always had to do with his being heir to the throne and with the immense privilege, but also duty, that this gave him. When he would close his mouth, it would finally be her turn. The speech she had prepared, however, never saw the light and wasn’t heard by anyone but those who had helped to write it. Cal was still babbling about the power and strength their union would bring to Norta when the screen on the other side of the square suddenly changed its image. If previously they had been reflected in it as if they were in front of a giant mirror, now there was a girl with blond hair, blue eyes piercing like ice blades, her face partly covered by a red bandana. She was the head of the Scarlet Guard, and she was airing live from Archeon.

His father's voice echoed strangely in Colonel Gliacon's home’ wide entrance. The storm that raged on Great Woods had reached them and they didn’t even have a storms in tow that could make the situation less embarrassing; Maven was sure that whoever was on the opposite side of the long table, compared to where his father had stood, wouldn’t hear a word, thanks to the incessant roar of rain on the roof and window panes. He wasn’t surprised to see that his uncle Julian and his wife had chosen that position.

Along with the storm's howl, the cold had also arrived, creating a strange contrast between the cold drafts that slipped under doors and windows and the temperature of the room, comparable to an oven thanks to his father’s fury.

"That Red viper gave us four days, not even enough to recall a third of the High Houses!" Tiberias exclaimed, his neck beginning to redden. Maven glanced at Larentia Viper, Volo Samos’ wife, who lovingly caressed the smooth, almost flat head of the snake that she had softly wrapped around her shoulders, like a shawl. If she had been somehow offended by his father's words, she didn’t show it. It was known that Evangeline and Ptolemus’ mother considered her animals much more important than Reds. Another folly that only the Silvers could conceive, another reason to side with the victory of the Scarlet Guard and its ideals.

“Admitted and not granted that those clowns have taken Archeon, nothing assures us that their threats aren’t just a bluff." Volo said, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table, something that would have horrified Lady Blonos and her lessons on good manners Not that Maven believed the farce of the relaxed lord in the middle of a gathering of people ready to kill each other; Volo Samos just wanted to give the impression of being among friends, in a place where he could talk freely and trust all, only to then use his own disappointment, the inevitable betrayal, to his advantage. Everybody knew the basics of the court schemes, in there.

"Those Reds could also have the support of the Lakelands, for all we know. They could be a diversion to invade us when we are weaker." he went on, gaining several consents. Even Stralian Haven nodded.

In spite of the icy silence, heat waves crashed on him from both his father and Cal. He had never seen him so taut, rigidly leaning on the high back of the chair, his mouth reduced to a thin line. Did he regard what the Scarlet Guard did as an improper gesture, which he despised, or was he just angry because the Reds had outsmarted him? Despite their mother's dislike of anything to do with the military career, it was no secret that Cal had been studying strategy since she was a child and advising their father about the war with the Lakelands for the past two years. The years had changed him and King Tiberias had weakened just enough to count on his heir for some issues that worried him too much. An information that the Scarlet Guard would never have had without his help but that alone was enough to make Coriane's plan accept. At least for now.

“I believe them.” his father said, and those words sounded very strange, in Maven's ears. He had conceived that speech, the whole part of the plan that played on his father and Cal’s weaknesses, and although Tiberias didn’t know, for his son it was as if he had finally congratulated him.

"Whether it's a trap or not, I see no other alternative than to accept their requests: three days is a period too short to call up an army and we don’t know how many Reds have joined the terrorists' cause, nor how many soldiers are actually present at Archeon. I won’t risk the lives of those who are dearest to me to resume the capital and if they really are in league with the Lakelands, we cannot afford to lose in a fight, not a single battle, nor a single life. Every drop of silver blood that this rebellion pours is a victory for our enemies. In addition, we don’t even know how many prisoners were made during the capture of the capital and we cannot risk their lives being in danger because of our recklessness. Strength is all in a world like ours, and only if exercised through power is different from that of beasts. However, wouldn’t we be beasts anyway if we didn’t know how to let go of power? I trust my son and he has shown repeatedly that he can be a great king, able to make difficult decisions but that must be taken anyway. And isn’t that what we most need in these hard times, where rats think they can fight lions? "

Maven frowned, puzzled. Those were beautiful words, a speech worthy of all those who had preceded it and that his father repeated for a long time in his private rooms. But those words should’ve come straight from his heart, be designed on the spot. Nothing could’ve prepared him for what was going to happen, and surely no one would have been able to advise him on such a speech without alerting him. Except ... Maven turned to look at his mother. She nodded, her eyes shining, as if moved, perhaps she had even quietly murmured her assent. How long had Coriane been waiting for that moment? What tremendous mechanism had they started, and when the Scarlet Guard and its ideals had become nothing but a cog?

Volo Samos’ voice was loud and angry, as unpleasant as the screeching of metal against other metal, a sound that Evangeline had forced them to hear for a long time, during their training sessions. He regretted that period: the court constraints, the meetings presided over by Arven, were a walk in the open air, compared to the reality of life that awaited them.

“You won’t take away from my daughter what is rightfully her!” exclaimed House Samos’ patriarch. Cal almost vomited at the idea that they were talking about him; he felt reduced to a useful but not precious object, something that everyone wanted to use for their own personal interest, but for which no one cared about the true value. Even now that he was really about to become king, he felt like a puppet, unable to take any kind of decision, obliged to follow his puppeteers’ instructions. Since he was a child, he had always wanted to make people happy. Growing up, however, the thing had become increasingly difficult: often, make her mother happy meant to be useless in his father’s but indulge the king meant to disappoint his mother and in both cases, Maven received no benefit from his actions. Anyone could’ve used his weakness against him, wanting it. He didn’t delude himself, at the court there were few who feared him, even though they should’ve done it only because of his status; no one had ever seen the shadow that hid in his mind, decided to focus only on the flame’s light and not on what made it so brilliant.

"I was present at your wedding: you swore that all your offspring would have to take wife through a Queenstrial. You had already been allowed to let Maven marry Ethan's daughter, it seemed right to everyone, but to rip from my daughter's hands what she worked so hard for is an insult I cannot bear."

The implications of what Lord Volo had just said were heavy, but Cal couldn’t think of it: to hear Mare’s cover mentioned, he had stiffened and had begun to think about what implications would have meant for her with what was about to happen. She would still marry Maven, that was sure; perhaps she could even get used to court life and all that pomp. But could she live in lies forever? Would she hold up, or would the weight of all those secrets break her? And what would have changed for them? Was there still something that could be called that way? He had to stop thinking about her, to force himself to remove the image of the girl he loved from his mind, so as not to risk it bursting. He couldn’t think of Mare, or himself, in a delicate moment like that. Once that situation was resolved, there would be time to be selfish, but that wasn’t the right place.

"So what do you suggest, Lord Volo?" he asked, finally taking the floor. Everyone in the room froze. Nobody expected a golden boy's intervention, let alone with an uncomfortable question like that.

"Contract peace: give Lakelanders the lands you have long fought for, secure a marriage between your progeny." he suggested.

"And if my offspring were to be only female? If Lady Evangeline couldn’t give me anything but daughters? Would I repudiate your daughter, or let a Lakelander be King of Norta at my death?" asked Cal, checking Evangeline’s reaction with the corner of his eyes. As expected, at the offspring’s issue’s mention, the girl shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

If she could tolerate the idea of pretending to love a man for her whole life, she couldn’t bear the possibility that a male being could profane her.

“No Lakelander will ever be King of Norta!” his father thundered, tearing Cal into a satisfied expression.

"King Orrec has two daughters, but I don’t think he will marry anybody with the future queen, so only the minor remains, Iris." his mother commented, with a composure that didn’t suit her. She seemed to be talking about the weather, while in her hands she not only had the lives of her sons but also the outcome of a war, a new beginning for two kingdoms that had always been intent on fighting each other.

"So it should be Maven who's marrying her! A second son for a second daughter." Volo said, but the credibility of his words was lowered by the fact that not even he had aimed at the second son of the king, but the heir, the firstborn.

"And Mareena? What would happen to her in this plan of yours?" Maven asked, speaking for the first time, a light pallor that extended from ears to cheeks. He was embarrassed, especially talking about the bond with his betrothed in front of so many people. Nobody expected that in such a short time they would start to get along so well, that they almost really liked each other. A twinge of pain hit Cal's chest at the thought. Mare wasn’t his, nor Maven’s; she belonged to herself. Yet he, selfishly, had wanted his share, betraying Maven so cruelly, when he had always been good and sincere with him.

When the brothers’ gaze crossed, in Maven's eyes were words that he couldn’t say aloud, a pardon that made a lump in Cal's throat and didn’t allow him to speak, to say that it didn’t matter because no king would ever marry his daughter to a second-born to end a war. If a position was what they would’ve exchanged to end the conflict, then it was the queen's one.

"What's going to happen to my daughter, if you’ll marry another woman?" asked Volo, looking directly at Cal. He had no idea. Would she return to the Rift with her tail between her legs, together with her whole family? But would Ptolemus ever leave his place as head of the city guard? Provided there was still a city to defend at the end of that meeting.

"She will marry my son Maven, as you yourself have said, a second son for a second daughter." the king suggested, going to his son's aid. Not that Cal really needed it, not if that was the outcome.

"But the people..." Maven began, without having the chance to finish. His mother had glared at him, as if they had an outstanding account.

"Our people are more inclined to accept an exchange between Silvers brothers than to lose the capital at the hands of the Reds." the king answered, looking first at Cal and then at Maven, then returning to his eldest. Did he know too? Was it so obvious what was happening with Mare?

"Besides, nobody will care too much about who will be queen, when the war will stop and they’ll have to pay more their servants for the work they do."

The shadow of a victorious smile painted on his mother's lips. It was what she had always wanted, what had built a wall between her and his father, despite mutual love. But how much did she have to do with this story? Or was it all just a fortuitous case?

"As for Mareena, the girl has already been very lucky to be recognized for the noble she is."

A lie.

"So she won’t have anything to object when we tell her she can come back to the Nolles, her mother's House, who had already kindly offered to host her and let her know the story of her ancestors."

Cal wanted to scream. Her ancestors were the same people they had oppressed, the same people who they still called rats and snakes, who didn’t even have a name in their eyes, who didn’t even deserve to be paid for the hard work they did every day. Some argued that the Reds should thank them not to be slaves, but Cal didn’t seen in their current condition something so different from that: they were slaves of jobs that didn’t pay enough to keep the whole family alive, slaves of a war that it no longer made sense, slaves of a mentality that didn’t see them as individuals but only as numbers, without a face and existence of their own. This should have taught the Nolles to Mare, or perhaps it was more what she would somehow manage to convey to them. But at what price? She had agreed to remain at court when there were no other choices, she had agreed to remain in a place where the four most important members of the royal family had sworn to take care of her, and now they were pushing her away, feeding her to relatives ready to tear her to pieces. For the Nolles, Mare was of some sort of interest as long as she was promised to Maven, but now? What did it mean for them if not an extra mouth to feed? They couldn’t even hope to make her marry a nobleman of high rank, since the most coveted claimants were already engaged. Mare would’ve been just a burden. And then, someone would also have to take care of her special needs, like makeup, which hid her skin’s rosy undertone, or ... He couldn’t think about it. Mare would have to do it alone: they had done everything possible, but the possibility of ending the war, of being the spark for the change that Norta needed was more important than her safeguard. If only Cal really believed it.