With Them

AN: This was supposed to be a drabble, but I guess I was inspired enough to write 3 whole pages of it. The prompt was: "Shouldn't you be with him/her?"

Disclaimer: The Queen's Thief Series is written by Megan Whalen Turner. The title for this collection is from Up Dharma Down's "Feelings."

After Attolis had completely healed from the botched assassination attempt that summer, a contingent of Attolians climbed up the cooling slopes of the mountains to visit their neighbouring country of Eddis. It was the first time that Attolia would stay in Eddis since she had been required to witness the destruction of Hamiathes's Gift. So much had happened since.

Attolia knew it would be different, and though she brought her mask everywhere she went, she prepared the stoniest and most durable in her trip. No heart was worn on her sleeve, nor her coat, none even in her innermost slip. She steeled herself like the mountain she climbed.

Three years before, things had been easy enough between the two countries that the court of Eddis mostly harboured only amusement at Attolia's inadequacy in capturing the band of thieves who traipsed through her nation to steal something she had no knowledge of. They had not laughed in front of her, but she knew they did so behind the hands covering their mouths, whispered in the hallways after she passed by. Relius had told her.

Now there were no smiles, even just to mock. Upon their arrival, the court of Eddis was enveloped in a palpable tension, like a hound ready to attack. She walked through the palace, Eugenides by her side, attendants tailing her and guards surrounding her, none of whom could stop the piercing, chilly gazes of the Eddisian courtiers.

The Queen of Eddis was magnanimous as always, sparing her a big smile and warm welcome as they were ushered into their temporary apartments. She and Attolis rested for a while in their separate chambers before court dinner was announced, and they began making their way to the large dining hall.

On the way there, Attolia rounded a corner to find her husband surrounded by overzealous children and toddlers, his attendants and guard reluctantly standing by as if they did not know whether these little people were dangerous.

"I miss you so much!" one of the smaller ones clung to Eugenides, knuckles white with the effort of maintaining his strangling chokehold. There were tears streaming down his chubby cheeks.

Eugenides laughed. "But I remember quite distinctly when you said you hated me!"

"I miss hating you," came the squeaky answer, and the rest of the children piped up to agree wholeheartedly.

Despite their confessions, Attolia could tell hate was not what these little ones felt for their uncle or elder cousin or whatever relation Eugenides was to them. From the way they reached for him, the yearning and fondness were evident. Attolia felt tenderness at his reception and a bittersweet ache that he'd traded all this for her.

Eugenides saw her approaching. He smiled at the kids around him, and said, "Most of you haven't met my wife yet, have you?" The children watched her as she moved towards them, their smiles ebbing. "Say hello to the Queen of Attolia, you guys," Eugenides prodded. There was a smattering of soft and shy 'hellos,' and then there was an awkward stretch of silence after Attolia greeted them. A very indiscreet throat-clearing came from somewhere beyond the crowd, and Attolia saw that the children's guardians were standing nearby. They nodded slightly at her, only enough to show sign of respect, then collected the children, who would not be attending the court dinner.

Eugenides was the epitome of a gentleman as they made their way to the hall, never once mentioning the situation.

Attolia's time thereafter reminded her of the period when they were writing up the treaty and preparing for the wedding. Eddis was very kind to her; Attolia supposed she had a reputation to keep up after all. While the rest of Eddis's court tried to pretend that Attolis did not come with his wife unless they were in political meetings, Eddis invited her to afternoon talks with pastries, showed her the prominent shops around the city, and accompanied her to walks in the garden. The weather being in the strange phase between autumn and winter, there were no longer any blooms in the garden, but the browning shrubberies were still cut and arranged in a pleasing aesthetic, and the pool still displayed crisp reflections. She and Eddis talked about the changing weather, the changing fashions, non-titillating rumours from each others' court. Attolia did not bring up her war with Sounis and the implication for the young Sounis heir; Eddis did not bring up the assassination attempt.

It was through her friendly chats with Eddis that Attolia came to know the assortment of relatives that vied for Eugenides's attention, trying to take advantage of their short visit to have some family time with him. She learned which nieces and nephews belonged to which of his sisters and brothers; she learned about which of his uncles and aunts held important offices, which cousins bullied him as a child and which ones he got along with.

"And now he's king, and they're bowing to him," Eddis chuckled.

Eddis even pointed out a lovely young lady with whom Eddis had planned to marry Eugenides. "I don't think she was his type," she muttered in a conspiratorial whisper, as if she was sharing with Attolia an inside joke. If she was, Attolia did not get it.

Attolia watched Agape sometimes at court dinners or when they passed by the hallways. She really was beautiful, with a pleasant disposition and fresh sense of humour. Attolia tried to imagine being a young eighteen-year-old boy with one hand, and tried to come up with a list of reasons why she shouldn't marry Aagpe. The list was very short, none of the things that came up quite convincing. But then again, Attolia supposed she could hardly don the mind of one of the most inscrutable, incomprehensible people she'd known.

When Eddis did not have time to babysit her, Attolia was left to her own devices. No other invitations came for chats or tea or walks in the garden from any of the other courtiers. She spent her time in her chambers, comforted by the simple presence of her attendants, knowing the entire time that self-pity was not a luxury queens like her could afford.

One afternoon, Attolia watched from her windows a haphazard group of people – from a band of rough-and-tough boys and girls to a couple of elderly – engaged in a vigorous game of ball. She could even spot Eddis' wild, curly hair among them. She did not know what game it was, but tried to decipher the rules as she watched them play in the field beyond the outer courtyard that lined her side of the palace. She wondered if Eugenides was one of them, but from the distance she could not see if any of the young men was wearing a hook or a false hand. She was a little worried that he might be out and about without a guard in sight, but then she remember that they were not in the Attolian court.

Thus she was surprised when the doors to her chamber opened and her attendants showed in her husband.

"Why aren't you with them?" she asked, nodding towards the field.

He paused, then made an obvious show of eyeing her. "Why aren't you with them?"

She gave him a flat look. Her play ball? As if she could sustain a run for fifteen minutes? As if she had any clothes that was remotely even suitable for frolicking in the grass? As if her weak ankles and brittle joints could let her kick a ball that far?

He snickered and jumped on her bed. He kept jumping and then punctuated it by doing a mid-air back-flip to land on the mattress with his head on her pillows. She was about to admonish him then realized that this was his home, and he was already burdened by the kingly duties demanded of him in her own court that perhaps she should be a little lax with him this time. Attolia knew, of all people, what it was like to never have a moment's respite.

"What is this?" he asked, looking at her. "I just jumped on your bed with my dirty socks and somersaulted onto your mattress, and I get no word from you? I could have broken my neck!" he gasped.

"It is only Eddis's servants you've troubled as they are the ones who would change the sheets."

"You know," he turned to face her, fiddling with the fringes on her pillows. "Things are all fine and dandy just at the beginning because they miss me. You saw the hugs and the kisses, but you were never here for the beatings and the shouting matches."

Attolia knew what he was trying to do. He wanted her to feel better about having taken him from his home.

"And you know," he continued. "I came up with the idea to marry you, remember?"

"Eddis told me you didn't think about being king." He could not have foreseen the consequences: the loneliness, the homesickness, the isolation. "Eugenides, if all those years I had the opportunity to relieve myself of the harshness of my court even for just a moment, I would have treasured it beyond life itself. Go to your family. You will miss them again when we go back."

"All right," he said, rising from the bed. "But I want you to come with me."

She shook her head. "You know it won't be the same." She thought about the kids whose laughter she snuffed when Eugenides had introduced her.

He looked like he was about to argue, but she just added, "I'm not ready."

He peered out of the window, observing the merry players for a long time, before nodding. He gave her a small smile before he left. After a while, Attolia saw him exit the palace, jogging across the courtyard towards the field.

AN: Please feel free to give me more prompts for Gerene!