Episode 131: Sweet Dreams (Giana)

Giana sat in the twilight and watched the embers of the festival fade. Some of them dispersed toward the guest housing on one part of the palace grounds, and others made their way to one of two campgrounds on each side of the rift valley.

The palace was left to silence.

It was Giana’s third summer festival. At the first, she had been so awed by all things fairy, so relieved about the love that stretched between Niels and Talise, about the exuberance of her grandchildren. At the second, she had watched with a determined contentment, a refusal to be consumed by her feelings toward Meldrick, when his focus was elsewhere.

Tonight, she waited for him at a bench along the terrace wall, while he put his youngest children to bed and checked on the older ones.

At home in Babylon, there would have been insects, frogs perhaps, to fill the dusk. Here, all was silent and still.

She nearly laughed at herself. At home in Babylon. She’d hardly been back, in the past week. Her home was here. She longed to bring her other two children. Viggo would love it.

Cille was another matter. She was so science-minded, so apparently cold. Giana worried what it would do to her insular little world of potential wells and normalized waves, to discover this world. To learn that the foundation on which she based her life, was faulty.

When Viggo the First had left them, the family had splintered. Viggo the Second had still been so young, so new, that his world hardly changed. Cille and Niels, both older, had reacted in radically different ways. Cille had become everything Giana once longed to be – independent, strong-willed (moreso than she’d been in her childhood), determined to never let anyone get close enough to hurt her.

Niels had become at once protective and distant. Giana’s eyes followed him now, his own attention drawn to Indigo’s unexpected and grown son where he danced with Talise’s youngest set of twins.

Niels wore an upside-down smile that was more a crease of worry than a frown. Giana wondered what caused that expression to cross her son’s face, what caused the new boy, the stranger, to take an interest in Talise’s children.

And then Talise was there in a remarkable shimmery dress covered in blue flames that might have been waves and might have been the hottest of fires. The dress had flare, perfect for dancing.

Niels’s eyes drank her in like an addict, as she pulled him toward the hedges, and in a moment they had vanished into the garden.

Giana smiled.

She and Mel danced earlier in the evening, when there was still enough sunlight to catch his eyes. They moved well together. She liked the way he led a dance, subtle but confident.

Niels and Talise favored an entirely different style of dance, that both amused and appalled Giana. She felt fortunate that her mother was not here to see her son. She could all but hear the disapproval that would be in her mother’s voice, as she spoke of some imaginary, well-mannered boy who lived nearby.

It didn’t matter. Niels was alive, more alive than Giana’s mother – or Giana, if it came to that – had ever been.

She intended to change that. All she needed was time, to explore the boundaries of her own sense of right and wrong, acceptable and not.

From outside the ringed garden, she caught a glimpse of Mel’s silhouette. She was certain it was him from the way he moved, deliberate and falsely casual, to the tension in his shoulders and back.

She felt herself relax into her wooden folding chair as he came into the garden, into the light, and his eyes found hers.

Her smile grew as he approached, and she found herself standing to meet him. She wanted a hug, to feel him warm in her arms. It was ridiculous, given that he’d been away less than an hour, but she felt it nonetheless.

Rather than hug her, he drew her into a spin that pulled her against him, facing the same direction, and kissed her cheek. He whispered against her, was she ready.

Yes, she felt ready for anything.

Of course, he meant transporting to Nivern, not everything, but Giana reveled in her little moment of anticipation of things to come.

She nodded her head.

In an instant, they stood in the Nivern palace foyer. At least, she guessed that was what it was. In Elesara, she’d never been outside the Dells before. It thrilled her in a new way, to be doing foreign travel in another realm.

Though it was hardly foreign…Shea, one of Mel’s daughters from before the previous war, greeted them from the top of a staircase, her husband Bentley linked on her arm.

How odd it must be, for them, to always know when to expect company. She wondered whether they always stood in that same spot. It was picturesque and very regal.

They descended the stairs together, before Shea and Mel hugged. Then, to Giana’s surprised, Shea angled her body and hugged Giana as well.

None of Mel’s children had afforded her that courtesy so far. To most, she seemed to be a curiosity more than anything, although Acheron’s opinions were written on his face, and Niels…

She sighed, and enjoyed the hug.

“Hi,” Shea said, once she pulled away.

Mel shook Bentley’s hand. “How are you?” he asked. The handshake startled Gi a bit; it was very American. No one Gi knew in Denmark would dream of shaking his son-in-law’s hand.

Bentley seemed to prefer the handshake. As always, Mel knew what people needed. Giana leaned into him, content to watch him interact with his family.

“Good,” Shea told him, with a smiling glance at Bentley. “Any reason you’re here?”

They knew, of course. Giana wondered what it was that drove them to ask rather than move forward with the assumption that everyone knew why they’d come.

“He came to visit, of course,” Bentley told her. His expression was somehow both teasing and a push to Meldrick, that he could have visited for the sake of it and not for information.

Giana felt a wave of guilt. It was her fault, for keeping him busy during his off hours. He was usually more attentive to his family.

“I need your opinion, about Drey,” Mel said. “And Greg.”

Bentley laughed. “I always thought Drey was really arrogant,” he mused. Gi withheld a laugh; she’d heard such varying accounts of Drey that she wished she could have known him, if only to reconcile all the descriptions. They couldn’t possibly all be about the same man.

Bentley glanced at Shea again and opened the door to something that might have been a meeting room or a dining room. There was a long, polished table with green-cushioned chairs around it.

Bentley closed the door, and everyone sat – Bentley and Shea together on one side, Gi and Mel on the other, with Mel’s arm around her back.

Bentley looked at them. “Before we talked about that…we found one of Tarragon’s kids. She’s here.”

Mel’s hand withdrew from Gi’s back. “Oh,” he said, a release of air more than a word.

Giana ran her fingers up his thigh. With luck, it would soothe the concern she knew he felt. Tarragon was his and Aadya’s only missing son from their first marriage, before the war. The Dragon family generally believed that Mel’s aunt, Ionia, had him hidden somewhere. The consensus was that at some point, he would attack.

To have found his daughter was unexpected and represented opportunity for the entire family. A warning, as well; the two children Spence had adopted were Tarragon’s. So much change in that situation, in just over one week, could only mean more changes were probable.

“Where?” Mel asked. “Can I see her?”

Bentley turned toward Shea subtly. “Is she asleep?” he asked her.

“I think she is,” Shea said. Her eyes were on Mel, apologetic.

“Is she healthy?” Mel asked. It was unremarkable, in tone, but with his body language and his typical muted demeanor, this question stood out as nearly a demand.

“Mostly,” Shea said. She exhaled loudly. “Physically, yes.”

Not emotionally, then. Gi ran her fingertips along Mel’s forearm. She tried not to think of the many ways in which a young girl could be hurt. Whatever it was, whoever she was, Gi knew that she and Mel, and Aadya – and Greg, she hoped – would help her to the best of their combined abilities.

“Another time then,” Mel murmured. It was good in a way; it would give him space to evaluate and address his feelings before he was face-to-face with the girl. It was bad in a way; it would give his anxiety room to grow. “In the morning.”

For a moment, everyone was silent while Giana traced little vines along Mel’s arm.

And then Bentley said, “As for Drey…yes, but I don’t really understand.”

That was a shock. Mel’s brother, the dead king, really was coming back. According to luck magic, at any rate. Giana wished she could have luck. She could sit in a garden full of people and guess interesting tidbits about their lives until she felt she knew them well.

It was a waste of such magic, which, she supposed was why Bentley had it and she didn’t.

“Greg,” Bentley said. His eyes widened, a barely perceptible change in his expression, as his attention settled on Shea. “…is a guy.”

“With a dragon,” Mel clarified. “Why is Drey coming back? How? If you know.”

Mel was such an understated creature, Gi marveled. All that tension, all these heavy topics, he might have been discussing the weather. It was such a treat, to be included in his thoughts as she knew she would be when they left here.

“I just wanted to be sure,” Mel added to Bentley and Shea, “that Aadya was…unafflicted by magic.”

“She’s fine,” Bentley promised. “We don’t really get it either. There’s some missing part we haven’t thought of yet.”

“If we do,” Shea added in a voice that made it impossible to doubt that she was genuine. Not that Gi doubted anyway, but it was nice to see the warmth between Mel and his children. “We’ll tell you as soon as we can.”

Mel nodded his head.

Gi wondered whether this marked the end of the visit. Maybe he would like to take a walk here, in Nivern, to sort his thoughts about Tarragon’s daughter and Aadya’s dragon’s new mate.

Bentley tapped his right hand on the table, like a deck of cards. “Did Aadya talk to you about anything else?” he asked Mel. “Or Zero? Niels?”

“No, she hasn’t,” Mel said in a clipped tone that hinted at his frustration. “Nor have they.”

“We think there will be an attack,” Shea explained, her focus on Bentley. They must sort out what, and how much, to share with nothing more than glances and intuition. Giana watched them, curious how it worked. “That some people will die, mostly temporarily.”

What? How could that be?

They’d asked about Niels.

Please, not Niels.

“Talise,” Bentley said to Mel. “Indigo.” He tapped the edge of his right hand on the table again. “Giana,” he said, with a nod in her direction.

“And two others,” Shea said quickly, before the rushing noise filled Giana’s ears. If anyone said anything else, she missed it.

When the rushing subsided, she asked them, “What do you mean when you say, ‘mostly temporarily?’”

“Well,” Shea said softly. Giana adored the way her voice was both elegant and a bit rough, an unpolished pearl. “Talise has dragon magic. A lot of it is timing.”

Alright. She was going to die. Indigo, too. And Indigo’s baby.

Temporary or not, it would be unpleasant. Most likely, painful. She was in good health and not prone to accidents, and there would be others involved. This meant Giana would likely be afraid before she died. Possibly alone.

There were worse things than dying. There was the expression she imagined on Niels’s face if he lost his babies; immeasurable grief and determination to be a rock for Talise. There was the cavernous pit Talise would fall into, especially if she pushed Niels away. There was Mel, publicly stoic and privately lost.

And her not there to help any of them.

She did not wish to die.

If it could be avoided, she resolved to do so, to fight for her life with all that she had.

She realized that Mel was now soothing her with his fingertips, making nonsense patterns against her back. She realized that no one had spoken for some time.

She swept all of her thoughts into a mental dustpan and pressed forward. “Which two others?” she asked.

“You know that groundskeeper, Dacey? His dad. And…someone else,” Bentley said. “I don’t know who.”

“A human,” Shea clarified.

Such an unusual assortment of people. Somehow, all would be brought together for this thing that would happen to them.

“Can we prevent it?” Mel asked in a clouded voice.

“I don’t think so,” Shea apologized. Her expression became vague. “I don’t see it being prevented.”

“Zero has tried different ideas this week and it’s still a thing, so…” Bentley informed them.

Such a burden for them, especially for Shea who was still so young. She was nearly the same age as Niels. It seemed unforgivable, that it should be on her and Bentley to bear this news to their own family members.

The loss, to the family, would be a drastic change for the kingdom. She tried to imagine Acheron, as a king, and nearly laughed. He could do it, she thought, but it would be a journey for him. She tried to imagine Talise and Niels, alive and ruling just after losing their first children together.

It was unconscionable.

Whatever monster planned this attack, was Giana’s enemy.

“Both of them are pregnant,” she said, to the room at large.

“We’ll get you tea,” Mel assured her, a whisper of hot breath against her ear. His hand continued its exploration of her back. “Thank you for letting us know,” he said to Bentley and Shea. “I’ll talk to Aadya.”

Gi could hear the underpinnings of his frustration at being excluded from this information, which others had presumably known for some time.

Gi was frustrated, too. No one else involved had been inclined to share. Thank goodness they’d needed to ask about the dragon today, or they might never have been warned.

“You’ll be back in the morning?” Bentley asked Mel.

“Yes,” Mel confirmed.

Well, at least he would have a project. If Gi had to die, it was better that he have a distraction.

Mel stood, adding, “I’ll see if Konrad wants to come. He’s feeling better, if you hadn’t guessed yet.”

“Damn,” Bentley complained with false disappointment. “I was hoping to see his butterfly collection.” Bentley stood too, his arm around Shea. “Better get used to Greg,” he said.

“We’ve seen his dragon,” Mel said. Giana had so far been privy to all of Mel’s thoughts about Greg’s dragon, and so she shared in his amusement when he added, “You two should find an excuse to meet him.”

“I think we’ll be at the festival tomorrow,” Bentley said.

“You should have your own festival,” Mel teased. His fingers were still light against Gi’s skin. “It’s great for anxiety.”

Bentley laughed, and gave Mel the sort of smile he deserved, the one that spoke of family and trust and mutual worry. “We just relocate kids for fun,” Bentley joked. “Two in two days, we’re on a roll.”

Mel laughed, but she could see his attention was elsewhere as his fingers slowed in their twirling pattern. She wanted to get him out of here. She was afraid of being alone with him, of the expectation that they would discuss this revelation.

“Thank you for the information,” she said. The rushing sound had returned; she needed a way to calm it, which she couldn’t do until she was alone or at least alone with Mel.

“Thank you,” Mel added. “Have a good night.”

“You too,” Bentley said, in a skeptical tone that said he understood they would not.

Then Shea approached Gi, arms out, and pressed her into a tight embrace. “You’ll be okay,” Shea whispered in her ear before she pulled away.

Mel gave one last nod, and then impossibly fast they were back at the palace.

They were just down the hall from her apartment, so she led him there. It was a safe place, unlike this corridor where she was likely to run into someone at any moment. She knew that if Niels saw her, he would know something was terribly wrong, and she still grappled with hurt that he hadn’t warned her himself, if he knew.

Once inside, she closed the door with a gentle clicking noise and leaned her forehead against the door, in an effort to tackle her emotions.

Mel’s arms found her, held her secure.

“Can I interest you in a cup of tea?” he offered, and she laughed and fell against him.

He realigned their bodies so that they faced, and graced her forehead with one of his warmest kisses. ‘I love you, Gi,” he told her.

She could see that he did, just as she loved him. There was a connection with them which made her soul feel alright, even in the face of these recent predictions. “I love you too,” she breathed against him. “Whatever happens.”

“Do you want some tea?” he reminded her. “Until after this?”

If there would be an after this.

She nuzzled him, taking in his glow and the solace only he could give her.

No, she did not want to lose a baby, if it could be avoided. “Is that alright?” she asked him.

“It was my idea,” he said. He kissed her again, and something of the kiss called to mind the paper shop yesterday evening, her joy. She could hardly bear the thought of losing him, after they had only just come together. Years, they’d wasted.

She watched his methodical, steady motions as he prepared a single-serve mug of tea, the special tea which prevented pregnancies, and passed it to her.

It was the jellybean cup she’d given him the other day. Laughter bubbled out of her as she took a sip and nearly sprayed it back into the mug. More serious, she consumed the contents. They had a background flavor that reminded her of anise and sage.

When she’d finished the drink she set the mug down on the little end table and regarded him seriously. She was prepared to do this. She was Giana, the rock, and she could get through anything. “That was a shock,” she began. Easy first, then more difficult: “What will you do about the girl?”

He didn’t answer right away. She watched his jaw move once, as he considered his answer, and when he spoke it was decisive: “I want to ensure she’s healthy and have Zero add some wards to her,” he said. His hands worried across her shoulders as he continued, “I want her to appear to have vanished as best she can. Then, it depends on her. Whatever is best for her. I don’t think this kingdom is. Nivern, maybe. What do you think?”

She would have to remember this special thrill that went through her, at being included in his decisions about his children. Soon, she would share that same opportunity with him, she decided. If she survived what was coming, no doubt she would need help with Niels.

“I…” she hesitated. She didn’t want to disagree with him, but she couldn’t lie, and silence was no reasonable option. She squared her shoulders. “There are more who can protect her here, with powerful magic they don’t have in Nivern. The people – her father or whoever else – who put her in Nivern would not expect her to be in the Dells.”

“That’s true,” Mel said. So diplomatic. “But there are spies here. If they saw her, they would know. She should be somewhere these spies won’t see her, if we go that route.” He looked around the room. “I wonder how old she is.”

She hugged him. It was a relief that he would have a project, whatever else came. Someone to focus his energies on. “Young,” Giana concluded, “if she’s already asleep. But safe. Your granddaughter. Will you tell her so?”

“If it feels right, yes. I assume she’ll know.” He looked at her for a moment, in a new way. It made her smile spread and her cheeks fill with a soft blush.

“Do you want to take a walk?” he asked her.

A walk was not what she would have expected, with his eyes looking at her with such an enticing manner, with the bed just a few feet away.

She smiled at him. She doubted that he could ever fail to surprise her, when he wanted to. “I would love to,” she said.

They left the apartment hand-in-hand, and his was oh so deliciously warm. She hoped it was with something besides worry, although she knew they needed to discuss the death prediction.

Down the stairs, through the atrium of the house, onto the portico and then into one of Aadya’s many gardens. It was a beautiful night, with a pleasant breeze.

And then it was a much cooler night, with the smell of age and of a nearby bog, and they were indoors and somewhere, a piano played Moonlight Sonata. Eddie. He knew she loved that, and he always tended heavy with his left pinkie. It showed in how he played.

Giana loved her home. Beyond anything aside of her children and her love of Mel, she loved this house, her estate, the subtly proud people of Denmark…

She was here. He was here with her.

He spun her to face him, eased her onto the sage green horsehair loveseat that had been her great-grandmother’s acquisition. Much of the estate was full of furniture and objects from another time, family history, its own personal museum.

And Mel, older than any of it.

She grinned at him, amused at the thought, as he twined his fingers with hers. “Time is a funny thing,” he said. “I’ve lived nearly a thousand slow years, and I enjoy that method of living, savoring moments.” He stepped closer to her, his face serious, and the rushing noise was back, only it wasn’t panic it was unfathomable excitement. “It seems we don’t have that luxury,” he went on, but I wanted this to be special nonetheless.”

He dropped, just as she suspected, to one knee, her hands still in his, the vines of their fingers tangled together.

Yes. She couldn’t wait to say it.

“I love you,” Mel professed, “and that won’t change. Let me protect you.” He gazed up at her, intense and uncertain in a way that made her smile grow still more. “Giana, will you marry, and elixir, to me, tonight? Before we lose any chance of a future. My love for you is endless.”

She’d never guessed that her face could grow tired from smiling too much at once, but it seemed to have done so. “Yes,” she said, with a smile like she had never known. “I have loved you for so long now.” And he was so much to her.

He stood and kissed her.

“I love you, Mel,” she said, as his lips found her neck, the dip between her clavicles.

“I love you, Gi,” he said with precision. “We can have a formal ceremony after this week, anything you want.” He handed her a small vial, which she knew must contain the elixir, and added, “But for now?”

Not only her; him too. It would be his wedding, his choices as well. She told him so and then let herself look at the little bottle of forever in her hands.

The circumstances were not ideal, but it didn’t, couldn’t, lesson the value or strength of their love and commitment to each other’s happiness. Only they could break that solemn promise.

Forever was an awfully long time to suffer, trapped, if she was wrong about him.

Forever was nothing, if she was right. Her instincts had never led her wrong before.

She unscrewed the lid of the vial. “I’ve never paid so much attention to how this works,” she confessed. “What do I do?”

“You just drink some,” he said. “A sip will do.” He reached for the vial, offering to be first.

She hesitated, the vial held against her.

Forever. How could she ever doubt him, even for a second? All his decency and carefulness, all his strengths and even his weakness. She understood and loved as much as she knew how to, about him. Anything she hadn’t discovered by now, she might not ever know.

She passed it to him, and he drank from it before he returned it to her.

She drew in a breath – her last breath as the self-contained being she had always lived as – and, with a sip, she gave herself to him, and to their future. Whether it was a day, or a year, or ten thousand years, it was theirs, and she claimed it.

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