The Consequences of One’s Actions
Fahmeen’s POV:
“My mother wants me to write more, now that I’ve told her I will not be travelling for a while.” I rub my bump and Rolf nods his approval before carrying on whatever business at his desk. The healer advised against long travels from now up until the baby can walk. I wonder out loud,
“Maxwell wants to visit. He says his pursuit of swordsmanship can no longer last in Covas. I suppose it’s the bad memories, well - tainted memories because of his brother. In any case, he wishes to live here with us.” I hope he thinks it’s a good idea too. I would love having Maxwell in my care. Never did I feel comfortable leaving him in the care of his neglectful siblings.
“Mhm.” Rolf distractedly mumbles.
“And learn from you…” I test, Rolf looks up quickly. His expression is unimpressed.
“That’s unnecessary. The training is adequate where he is. I do not see the need for travelling halfway across the world, to a foreign cold land he’s never experienced just to follow me around.” He shakes his head dismissively and continues his work.
“I understand it will be hard at first, but don’t underestimate us Southerners. It didn’t take me long.” I blink as if I’d proven my point.
Rolf shakes his head no,
“His experience will be quite different from yours, Fahmeen. He will not be afforded the same luxuries as you, he will be a stable boy at best. You know how our people here can be, there are no freeloaders or privileges handed out. One must makes his own way. Making it even harder to settle here as an outsider.” Rolf flicks through a pile of scrolls, tossing a few carelessly on the floor beside him and squinting at some.
“There’s no need to make it so tough on him. He is still a boy, with no father to look out for him nor a mother to take care of his wounds.”
“So we are to become his parents?” Rolf sits back in his chair, awaiting my explanation.
I sigh, on the brink of defeat, but not quite.
“Fine, he will have an ordinary home with ordinary clothes and perhaps live an ordinary life. But at least he’ll have one. Back there, the way it is now on the brink of an uprising, Rolf? That boy finally deserves some stability, and a future.” Maybe it was my own child spurring this on. But I knew it would change Maxwell’s world for the better.
“And who will take care of him?” He expects me to say us.
“Like you said, he’ll find his way. For now, he can live with the other orphans. I trust Sycamore to quickly become one of his friends. She’ll love having someone new to teach all her skills to.” I smile fondly, picking up the baby blanket I was halfway through crafting. Rolf had been guiding me through the process. Also, it was incredibly therapeutic.
“I don’t think Sy needs to spend all her time with the boy. She is still young.” The protectiveness of a father. How sweet.
“Only by a few years.” I wrestle. I can see his relent. To fill the silence of his thoughts, I continue sewing and try not to watch him come to my side.
“He will not follow me around like a lost dog.”
He’s conceded.
“Of course I-
“I will not sit out of my important business to teach him lessons or anything else he expects I’ll do.”
I rush off of my seat, blanket set down and stood in between him and the desk. The smile proudly on my face.
“And you’ll warn Sy.” His eyes are serious, but the rest of his face isn’t as convincing.
“Stop it already!” I laugh, allowing him to sit me on his lap. Sighing deeply, he returns a small smile.
“I’ll send Loki.”
“We have a deal, my king.” I await a kiss, and he refuses to disappoint my impatient lips.
End of Fahmeen’s POV
Busy, busy the world moves on as quickly as it remembers.
“We can play this to our advantage. If they’re lying about me-
“You don’t expect me to believe that you are indeed not as they say?” Derek asks amused, eyeing the jug of wine between them. He sighs, arrogance leaning his arms on the desk of the king.
“I don’t care either way. You promised me a lot of riches if I just did what I do best.” He grins, raising a toast.
Micah stares long and hard at the man before him. Proud, never satisfied and greedy. Much like the only enemy he’d ever truly conquered.
FLASHBACK
The trees could speak. That is what was said of the deep forest that lined the island. Micah didn’t believe it. But he loved his home, and so he loved these untrustworthy trees.
“Tell me. What it is you mean?” He jests, inhaling the rich, fresh air into his lungs after a hard day under the invader’s rule. His wife was the only solace from the bondage of the beast who’d sailed and settled into his home, claiming this land as his own and forcing the inhabitants to build his empire. That was until now, Micah was reminded of this paradise on earth. The only place better than both the forest and the in between of his wife’s legs, Poseidon’s Drop. He could already hear it. An intense, primal giddiness rushed his soul and so he leapt on towards the water.
END OF FLASHBACK
Now here he sat, making a devil’s deal only to save his family and their home.
“I never break a promise. You’ll have what you were assured.” He stands slowly, rejecting the toast and instead edging into the diplomat’s personal space.
“Just reassure me.” He bit out. His words spoken with as much contempt as he could muster. As if one could separate themselves from their actions. But Micah above all understood consequence.
Specifically the consequences of one’s actions.