Kingsley Family/Alyssa/Lay Down Your Burdens

Co-written with Everlight Family.

Aftermath of Alyssa's forced resignation as Queen of Perdan.

Changing Seasons

Another tense day was nearing its end. At her desk in the royal apartments Isana rolled up the last of the missives from the day, her mouth set in a firm line, a crease between her brows showing the tension was within as well as without. She sighed, her hands releasing the parchment, and gazed across the room.

The blushing sunlight of early evening cast across the fireplace mantle where the paired shields with their shared heraldry hung proudly. Isana smiled wistfully at their splendor. Aly should be home by now… there’s been no messenger...

A frown tugged at one corner of her mouth. She nabbed the quill once more and scrawled a short note, then stood to foray in search of her trouble-fraught darling.

--

An autumn wind breezed through the Ducal Gardens that Alyssa had so often walked. A lone yellowed leaf fell from a tree floating gently through the air and catching on the gentle wind. Alyssa lost track of the leaf as it flew off alone into the sky. She looked back at the tree it had fallen from, its green turning colours to reds and browns, and some falling off like the one she had just seen, lost to the wind or dead scattered across the dying grass.

One by one the leaves fell, reaching their inevitable fates. Alyssa merely watched from her seat on a stone bench, lost in thought, wondering what could have been done differently, her failures swimming through her mind. She heard the crunching sound but did not take notice until the other had sat down beside her.

And you, brightest light, as well.

Alyssa said nothing, but slid her arm through Isana's and leaned her head on her shoulder, watching the leaves fall one by one towards their inevitable fates.

--

Unable to read Alyssa’s emotion, Isana simply sat close beside her, an arm around her offering warmth and support. Something had changed, some energy had dispersed; Alyssa’s head found her shoulder, leaning into the strength she offered. Isana stroked her cheek against the golden hair and pressed a kiss into it.

Before them the garden’s grove was a riot of colour. The trees celebrated the bounty of the summer that was and readied for the winter to come. It was beautiful in its timelessness, the seasons changing despite all the tribulations of the populace. Optimism.

She tightened her arm around Aly in a little one-armed hug, and quietly began to recite a poem.

“The tree that never had to fight

For sun and sky and air and light,

But stood out in the open plain

And always got its share of rain,

Never became a forest king

But lived and died a scrubby thing.

Good timber does not grow with ease:

The stronger wind, the stronger trees;

The further sky, the greater length;

The more the storm, the more the strength.

By sun and cold, by rain and snow,

In trees and men good timbers grow.

Where thickest lies the forest growth,

We find the patriarchs of both.

And they hold counsel with the stars

Whose broken branches show the scars

Of many winds and much of strife.

This is the common law of life.”

She nuzzled down against the silky blonde head and said quietly, “We shall be the tallest and grandest trees of all, my love. Together against the storm, always.”

Alyssa nestled back, quietly for a moment, a solitary tear sliding onto Isana's shoulder before asking in a gentle whisper. "Was it me, truly, darling? I do not know what to do."

Isana’s brows collapsed into broken heaps above pleading eyes, hearing the quiet devastation in Alyssa’s whisper. She reached both arms to wrap around her, pulling her close within their walls as though they could protect her from all that assailed her.

“Aly, Aly. Love. You have always done all you can for this realm. You can’t control others’ priorities, darling.” The wind swirled around them, lifting hair and raising goosebumps as it chased the crunching leaves around their feet. Isana held Alyssa close, warm against the chill, and continued. "My dearest. I wanted to vacation with you in sweet triumph and bliss after our wedding... but, maybe... will you come with me, now, to the Riverlands and just, be us for a while?"

Alyssa clung tighter. But I am needed... was her reflexive thought. But she could not feel needed, except for with this woman whose arms held her with strength and gentleness.

"Yes." She whispered, clinging to comfort, her shelter from the raging storm within the palace walls. "Anywhere with you."

Down by the River

The ride to Bescanon was brief, and familiar. The little hamlets, inns, and villas Alyssa had passed back and forth countless times during her Ladyship of these verdant lands passed by, the same as they ever were. Unchanged since she first reclaimed this land in the name of Perdan so many years ago, through kings and queen this gentle country kept going on without care, unnoticed by time. Alyssa's hand held firmly to Isana's as their horses, so used to their rider's affections, rode side by side down the cobbled road towards Water Town.

Nothing had changed about this place, only her. Stealing a glance behind her, she saw only the knightly escort from the Whiteguard that followed the pair, and the little retainer of staff that travelled behind, and beyond, the silhouette of the great city of Perdan, which had been her home for years prior. She felt a draw back to the city, but also a distance, more than physical. A strangeness of uncertainty.

"What home have I..." She muttered nearly silently to herself. After a little shake of her head, Alyssa gave Isana's hand a squeeze. She was here, and there was nothing but certainty in the gentle warmth of their hands together.

" 'Sana-dear," She began shifting slightly in her saddle, "Where did you intend for us to stay? The castle in Water Town has not been occupied for some time, we will find no welcome there, my love."

Isana nodded at the assessment and a small smile, incongruent to the scene, appeared. "I have it all arranged." She gave the gloved hand in hers a fond squeeze. "I think you'll like it, too. Trust me, love. We have friends yet in Perdan." She glanced to Cedric, riding glumly along nearby, and signalled him to go on ahead.

--

The rolling countryside of Bescanon gradually revealed glimpses of its grand and shining river off to their left. Not long thereafter rose the quaint and proud little city in front of them. The retinue rode quietly in along the main road. Some shopkeepers and citizens came out to greet them or waved from windows, still pleased to see their royal presence even after recent events. Isana called a halt just before they reached Bescanon's Bloody Stump, the tavern of much repute and one of which she knew Alyssa was not fond.

Cedric jogged up to meet them on foot, a bundle of keys in one hand and several rolled parchments under his arm as well as a little ornate box, and bowed low to his Knight and her Royal Lady. "Milady, I have instructions from our host. If you would please dismount and follow me...?" As they did so he handed off most of the parchments, perhaps instructions, to other members of the staff and guard.

Alyssa watched with concern as Isana dismounted, and the staff began scurrying about.

"Isana..." She said with gentle worry. "We need not stay in such a place." The architecture of this tavern was much more refined than its counterpart in the city, but the name above the door remained the same, and brought back difficult memories of an embarrassing faux pas she was implicated in by a man who had insisted on a doomed pursuit of her some time ago.

"These places tend to be... lively, with the energy of the common folk about. I think somewhere quieter might be more suitable..."

Isana stepped closer to her mounted partner and offered a hand, smiling comfort up at her. "Don't worry, dearest, I remember your feeling about the tavern. We will not be staying in the Stump proper. Alternate arrangements are in place."

"There's a private entrance, too!" Cedric piped up, showing a ring with two keys.

The page continued, "The Castellan has made everything ready--ah, there she is." A slender, older woman dressed in fine dark clothes of a simple, almost severe style, had opened the grand gate next to the Stump and now stood formally on its threshold, waiting. Beyond her a verdant riot of a garden could be seen. Isana slid her arm around Alyssa's waist, pulled her close, and lightly kissed her cheek.

"I'd been planning to carry you over this threshold, my sky. Maybe one day that will happen, but for now let's take our tired legs and minds inside and see what awaits, hm?"

The stone garden wall and heavy wood-and-iron gate enclose arching mounds of greenery. All of the ladies' favourites are there, and despite the late season a few everblooming peonies and fragrant roses still lend their colour to the lush garden. A finely crafted stone path leads through to an impressive side door, lanterns lit to either side of it. The Castellan, Cynthia, glides along ahead of the pair to open the door and welcome them. Within the solid door a broad stair leads up to the private suite.

Our Lady

The day was warm, and mild, as it typically was in Bescanon, especially near the river. Only a mild spattering of clouds dotted the bright blue sky and a gentle morning breeze filled the air as the sun crested over the horizon. Alyssa rested her hand on the sword at her hip as she walked the path down the hill towards the riverside. Something about the river always drew her in, she felt peaceful there, the gentle sound of running water helped her focus on the present, and keep her mind away from the spray of blood and the shouts of dying people.

They had had a late night, something Alyssa was more than used to, and Isana wanted to sleep in, so Alyssa pried herself from her arms and gave her a kiss on the temple before gently running her fingers through long dark hair, teasing her lightly about a fairy tale about a sleeping beauty who needs a princess to wake her up with a kiss. Promising to return soon to lift Isana's drowsy curse, Alyssa dressed lightly in a simple white shirt and black trousers, grabbing the sword belt from beside the bed and buckling it around her waist as she left for a walk down to the river.

The cobbled path was easy and the walk downhill was short, and Alyssa wandered the banks of the great river alone, peering off at Eponllyn across on the other bank. She did not think of Eponllyn though, her mind was lost in thoughts of everything that had happened, and what she would do now. Her home did not feel as home. It felt poisoned. Even this place in its relaxing and pristine splendor felt tinged ever slightly with the lingering dread, a feeling of a serpent ready to leap out at her from the tall grass by the water's edge, or that this beautiful place was just a piece of some grander, more sinister game that she could not see.

It is not so. Alyssa reminded herself, closing her eyes and sighing. Devious, misguided, selfish, destructive, spiteful, foolish. Words that came to mind. But not evil, no malice or hatred. Just greed and lust. They did not hate her and she did not hate them. Not truly. But their selfishness and desire for power and authority over others had destroyed the vibrancy, the creativity, and the brotherhood that this realm once stood for. It would lead to evil, she knew, but it was not evil towards her. Whatever concerns she had about what stood behind this place, there was still peace to be found here.

She found herself near a familiar hillock not far from Water Town, the sun had begun rising and she realized she had walked far farther than she had planned. She looked up at the little tree sat upon its top, the same one she and Isana had sat under together many years ago. She took a seat, pulling her hair back and tying it back into a neat, simple, chignon and leaned her head back against the tree, closing her eyes and letting the gentle breeze flow over her. You are finished here. What can be done?

At this her mind thought of a prayer. She had not thought of many since the temples closed. Though her heart belonged to Isana, and her shield belonged to the weak and the innocent, her spirit was bound before the Lady Leandra. In a brief, sudden rush of piety, she slid her legs beneath, turning into a kneel, and pulled her sword from its sheathe, holding it in front of her in prayer. She spoke the little rhyme that popped into her head. Raine Gildre had taught it to her many years ago as they toured a temple and met with followers young and old, and it was not scripture, little more than a simple prayer for children, but it came to her, very suddenly, and she felt a rush of comfort in the little poem Raine had taught her.

"Our Lady,

What can be done?

When the Weary cry out

and the Wicked have won?

When the light has faded

and darkness comes,

What can be done?

What can be done?

So she speaketh:

In her, light can never fade

Behind her shield the darkness can never reach

In trust we are protected,

In faith, we are the Shield

We are the Shield

We are the Shield"

As she finished, she caught her reflection in the steel of her sword. You are finished here. She admitted swallowing the sadness. But you are not finished.

The moment passing she looked around wondering how strange she would likely look holding a sword aloft and praying to the river; if anyone had seen her, which she knew they did not, and that she was totally alone. She slid the sword back into its scabbard and leaned against the tree, closing her eyes once more and feeling the cool breeze against her skin and the comforting sounds of the gentle, running river.