Hadand Algara-Vayir (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
deheldegarthe) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
triangularity2015-02-05 11:06 pm
deheldegarthe) wrote in triangularity2015-02-05 11:06 pm
Entry tags:
AUs of our AUs: A timeline diverges, and a would-be queen leaves her kingdom behind.
Hadand knew he was here. She waited in the throne room, dressed in her family's green rather than the royal crimson, a black sash at her waist. Cama stood by in Shield Arm position, having had both the faith in Hadand and Evred and the air of authority necessary to take over the Guard and back Hadand's orders. When Evred finally reached the throne room, his arrival heralded as much by the people's gasps and murmurs as by any formal announcement, she saluted, fist to heart.
Everything blurred together after that. Evred got her alone at first opportunity, taking Hadand by the hands once they were safely shut into the royal nursery where they had grown up together. "You held the kingdom. There's nothing greater anyone could ask."
It struck her suddenly, how tall and straight he'd grown. Only his expressions distinguished him from his late father. There were new lines around his eyes since last she'd seen him. Even at twenty, he was old enough and wise enough that Hadand could easily trust him with a kingdom. She would trust Evred with anything, herself included. He could never care for her romantically, of course, and she stamped out any faint tendrils of attraction before they could take root and grow strong.
"Sponge--" she started, cutting herself off at use of the childhood nickname. "Evred, I know you have far more than your share of worries right now, but could I ask you to take on one more?" At his nod of assent, an unspoken 'of course' implied in the look that accompanied it, she continued. "There are whispers in the palace. Eyes follow me, and people stop speaking when I enter a room. I've no wish to burden you, but things changed after my father went home to Choread Elgaer. I fear it may mean more trouble coming."
He squeezed her hands briefly before releasing them. "Hadand," and he paused here to consider his words, "you know that I trust you completely, and know you too well to believe any testimony against you." The one bit of broken trust between them had been long-since forgiven, though never forgotten. Evred loved her like a sister. He had always trusted and looked up to her, in a way he never had his own sibling.
"That means there is false testimony," Hadand concluded, as he'd known she would. "Lies to further muddy the waters, as if things weren't bad enough. What do they say?"
Evred's mouth twisted. "You were implicated in my brother's assassination." At her look of outrage, he continued, "I doubt they can get you executed for it, but they will almost certainly have you imprisoned in the numbers they are amassing to back their story.
"Hadand, I want you to go. Like Inda." He never mentioned Inda aloud anymore, but Hadand knew her youngest brother was always in Evred's thoughts. The name alone was proof of his seriousness. "I want you out of reach of this, and there will be no honorable return to Iasca Leror. It is all I can do for you. You deserve to be Hadand-Gunvaer, and hailed as Deheldegarthe by the people. You earned that place. You defended the throne with your own two hands, and I had thought to ask..."
He trails off momentarily, before shaking his head. "Go to Lindeth Harbor. Sail on the ship with least ties to home."
Hadand had remained stoic throughout the speech, but that last word, home, broke her facade. Evred could see how lost she felt now, rather than just surmising it. She knew nothing of space travel. When Barend came home to speak of his time aboard ships, it sounded like nonsense to her. And Iasca Leror was, of course, her home. Hadand could recall no time when she had not known that she would be its queen one day. Her life was here. Her family, what little of it remained to her, was here.
Her family.
With Hadand gone, that would leave not a single one of her parents' children alive and within the kingdom. Her mother would be left with the two girls she'd raised to wed the two sons now lost to her, and not even any letters from a daughter in the royal city as consolation.
That was unacceptable. "If I go," she said quietly, "I need a promise from you. As my friend, my family, and my king."
"Anything," he promised, "if it is within my power to do."
Hadand breathed deep before she spoke again, chin jutting out stubbornly. "Bring my brother home. Swear it to me, and swear it to my mother. Write to my mother from time to time. Tell her I escaped safely. Pass along my love, if you can manage it." She reached out, very lightly touching Evred's arm. Her voice was very soft. "Inda's situation was nothing like mine. He refused a whipping after contrived boyhood dishonor, not because he was afraid but because he did not deserve it. Find a way to set it aside. The revelation of your uncle's other treachery should help. Find Inda, and set things right."
He said he would, and so, she left.
As luck would have it, Hadand found the most foreign ship of all, one whose ties were in an entirely different part of the galaxy. Hadand pled her case with Captain Janeway of the Voyager and was allowed aboard. It pained her to leave Iasca Leror and know that there would truly be no return, but at least now there can be no second guessing.
Hadand can never go home.
She tries to settle into her new life aboard ship, the greenest of new recruits but willing to learn. Hadand cautiously works her way into the crew trying to find a place and a purpose after losing the only ones she'd known.
Everything blurred together after that. Evred got her alone at first opportunity, taking Hadand by the hands once they were safely shut into the royal nursery where they had grown up together. "You held the kingdom. There's nothing greater anyone could ask."
It struck her suddenly, how tall and straight he'd grown. Only his expressions distinguished him from his late father. There were new lines around his eyes since last she'd seen him. Even at twenty, he was old enough and wise enough that Hadand could easily trust him with a kingdom. She would trust Evred with anything, herself included. He could never care for her romantically, of course, and she stamped out any faint tendrils of attraction before they could take root and grow strong.
"Sponge--" she started, cutting herself off at use of the childhood nickname. "Evred, I know you have far more than your share of worries right now, but could I ask you to take on one more?" At his nod of assent, an unspoken 'of course' implied in the look that accompanied it, she continued. "There are whispers in the palace. Eyes follow me, and people stop speaking when I enter a room. I've no wish to burden you, but things changed after my father went home to Choread Elgaer. I fear it may mean more trouble coming."
He squeezed her hands briefly before releasing them. "Hadand," and he paused here to consider his words, "you know that I trust you completely, and know you too well to believe any testimony against you." The one bit of broken trust between them had been long-since forgiven, though never forgotten. Evred loved her like a sister. He had always trusted and looked up to her, in a way he never had his own sibling.
"That means there is false testimony," Hadand concluded, as he'd known she would. "Lies to further muddy the waters, as if things weren't bad enough. What do they say?"
Evred's mouth twisted. "You were implicated in my brother's assassination." At her look of outrage, he continued, "I doubt they can get you executed for it, but they will almost certainly have you imprisoned in the numbers they are amassing to back their story.
"Hadand, I want you to go. Like Inda." He never mentioned Inda aloud anymore, but Hadand knew her youngest brother was always in Evred's thoughts. The name alone was proof of his seriousness. "I want you out of reach of this, and there will be no honorable return to Iasca Leror. It is all I can do for you. You deserve to be Hadand-Gunvaer, and hailed as Deheldegarthe by the people. You earned that place. You defended the throne with your own two hands, and I had thought to ask..."
He trails off momentarily, before shaking his head. "Go to Lindeth Harbor. Sail on the ship with least ties to home."
Hadand had remained stoic throughout the speech, but that last word, home, broke her facade. Evred could see how lost she felt now, rather than just surmising it. She knew nothing of space travel. When Barend came home to speak of his time aboard ships, it sounded like nonsense to her. And Iasca Leror was, of course, her home. Hadand could recall no time when she had not known that she would be its queen one day. Her life was here. Her family, what little of it remained to her, was here.
Her family.
With Hadand gone, that would leave not a single one of her parents' children alive and within the kingdom. Her mother would be left with the two girls she'd raised to wed the two sons now lost to her, and not even any letters from a daughter in the royal city as consolation.
That was unacceptable. "If I go," she said quietly, "I need a promise from you. As my friend, my family, and my king."
"Anything," he promised, "if it is within my power to do."
Hadand breathed deep before she spoke again, chin jutting out stubbornly. "Bring my brother home. Swear it to me, and swear it to my mother. Write to my mother from time to time. Tell her I escaped safely. Pass along my love, if you can manage it." She reached out, very lightly touching Evred's arm. Her voice was very soft. "Inda's situation was nothing like mine. He refused a whipping after contrived boyhood dishonor, not because he was afraid but because he did not deserve it. Find a way to set it aside. The revelation of your uncle's other treachery should help. Find Inda, and set things right."
He said he would, and so, she left.
As luck would have it, Hadand found the most foreign ship of all, one whose ties were in an entirely different part of the galaxy. Hadand pled her case with Captain Janeway of the Voyager and was allowed aboard. It pained her to leave Iasca Leror and know that there would truly be no return, but at least now there can be no second guessing.
Hadand can never go home.
She tries to settle into her new life aboard ship, the greenest of new recruits but willing to learn. Hadand cautiously works her way into the crew trying to find a place and a purpose after losing the only ones she'd known.
no subject
Though he might need to tell Hadand someday about why he and Tuvok don't get along. Most everyone knows already, so she may as well join their ranks. It might help her figure out how to read them when they're around each other.
They both have to hide the extent of their smiles, it seems. Chakotay barely manages to keep his in check as she agrees to their holodeck date. Meeting. Holodeck meeting. He doesn't want to leave her, but it is getting late and he has duty at 0600 hours. "Then I should let you get some rest in preparation. If you'd like, I can leave my bundle tonight, in case you decide to try contacting your spirit guide again. Later, we can start building yours."
It's a definite sign of trust between them, one someone else would have picked up on in an instant. Thank the Spirits B'Elanna doesn't know or she would jump on this faster than he could say Sky Spirits.
no subject
"You really wouldn't mind?" she asks softly, incredulously. She might not have known Chakotay long, but he made no secret of how important his beliefs are to him. Everything they've shared tonight has driven that point very firmly home. Hadand felt honored—and any number of other warm and studiously unacknowledged emotions—to be invited to use it at all, even in Chakotay's presence. This? She isn't so oblivious that she could miss the weight of the offer.
With that in mind and hope singing through her, she loses the battle to keep him at arm's reach. Hadand doesn't kiss him, still fearful of overstepping bounds or burdening Chakotay with unwanted feelings. Once he's on his feet, though, she steps closer and wraps her arms around him in an embrace that's over all too quickly. She forces herself to back away.
It's the kind of affection she'd offer to a friend, Hadand tries to insist. It doesn't have to mean anything more. She knows that she'd convince no one with that argument, least of all herself. With far more conviction, she says aloud, "I'll keep it safe, then, and return it to you when we meet tomorrow."
no subject
When she backs away, he reluctantly lets his arms drop back to his sides, that half smile still on his face. "I would appreciate that. But I know I won't have to worry about it in your care."
And that doesn't mean anything other than what he would give a friend. That's totally right.
no subject
"You won't," she agrees, enough force behind the words to make them a promise. A brief touch to his arm is the most contact she'll allow herself before she sees him out the door. She wants so much more than that.
If she's being honest, she wants him to stay.
A deliberate soft smile on her face, she says quietly, "Good night, Chakotay."
no subject
Chakotay pauses for only a split second before he offers a small smile in return. "Good night, Hadand. I'll see you tomorrow." He wants nothing more than to stay, to enjoy her company for a while longer. He doesn't, though. Instead, he nods one more time and turns to leave, letting the door hiss behind him, closing off this chance for a while to come.