OOM: Conversations With Dead People 2 -- What The King Would Have Wanted

[ostro_goth]

Apples. Whatever was in the large earthen jar was made of mostly apples, with a hint of strong spirits. It was open, and its scent was mingling with the scents of hearth-fire and home, and the sharp, aromatic wood-smoke that came from the brazier, on the other side of the table, illuminating a small pool of life inside the large, dark, silent house. Too silent -- it felt as if all had gone away, except the two men at the table.

The table was a small, delicate wooden folding table, as you would have found in the tent of a Byzantine commander: - and likely, you had done, a long long time ago. Like the brazier, the two chairs the men sat upon, and the two bronze cups upon the table that held the strong cider, it had come all the way from the lost, fabled South-Lands. The jar and the ladle, the floor and the house around them, that was northerly and belonged here.

Whatever it was that had drawn Teja here, through his barrow-hill nearby, on this night when veils between worlds were thinner than usual, it were the men that now held his attention. Men that he had known in life, but not like this.

On the left was Aligern, Teja's cousin. He was much older than Teja had ever known him, grizzled, and wearing clothes of northern finery, and gold upon his arms, as if his place was not in a homestead like this, but in a king's great hall. He held himself slightly hunched, as if his dire wounds from the battle of Mons Lactarius were still making themselves felt, and would for the rest of his life.

The other man looked more at home here, tall and broad, in simple, serviceable clothes, his golden-brown curls tied in the back with a leather thong as if to keep them out of his face while he was working. The fine bronze belt-fittings, though, and the good sahs at his hip, declared him to be more than a simple farmer. The face, with its cheerful blue eyes and ready smile, had never been beautiful and was barely handsome now, but still one of the loveliest and most heart-warming sights that Teja had ever known: - Adalgoth, grown taller by some inches even after he had gone to the North, filled out in his shoulder to a broad man's strength, but his unsullied spirit still shining from his features.

Adalgoth. This time, it seemed, Teja was given a glimpse at last of how those dearest to him among the survivors had fared, even without a mirror made by Weyland's magic. Teja sighed, looking upon them both, fully aware that neither would see him, hear him, or even feel his presence; and indeed, the flames in the brazier did not waver from his breath.

"Should it come to that," Adalgoth was saying, "and should they be accused before the Thing, tomorrow or the day after, whenever that man you spoke of will arrive there, then we must stand up for them. Did we ever ask, truly, what their feelings were when they were by themselves, in the South, in battle? They carried spears to the King in his last battle; they fought at our side, both, and we cannot now desert them because Northern superstition is afraid of them, and suspects them, for what they might or might not be -- now, after years, as their Roman skills have let them prosper in the meagre homestead they claimed from among the lands that our last great treasure bought us, here in the North. If there is envy involved -- nîth! -- then it is with their accuser! But even if all is true, then we must not fail those that fought with us. The King would not have wanted us to!"

So this was the point in the argument, Teja saw, that had drawn him: - to complete the path he had walked since he died, down the way that the card had set him upon, in the silver woods at Midsummer. For he knew what these men would be suspected of, and felt he even suspected who they had to be. Now, he would have to find a way to tell what the King would have really wanted.

"The King," Aligern said, almost derisively, as he reached out to ladle more drink into both their cups. "Teja, my cousin, our last unhappy King -- yes, you knew him well, but I doubt that despite all the rumours, you knew his take on these things. Teja, my unhappy cousin, laid down his life for us all, so we could come here to the North-Lands and be part of these people again. We are settling among them, we are mingling well, enough of us have taken spouses from among the Gotlanders so that we are all truly related to them, personally, now; should we now speak up against their laws and customs because we had not enforced them in the softened South, should we take sides because we are Ostrogoths from Italy, those that fought under the kings, Totila and Teja, and they are not, then strife would become rife, and what we wrought would fall apart. And forget not: - one of them, even though he was the last to be accepted among our number, of so many before, had bee born a Roman noble."

Yes, Teja now knew who these two had to be. The Roman youth last left alive at the slaughter of Cumae, and the Gothic youth who had not had it in him to kill him, and whom Teja had sent from the walled gardens together. They had carried spears to the one guarding the mouth of the gorge, on Mount Vesuvius, together; and as it seemed, they were together still.

"We are a people," Adalgoth said, finishing his cup, and refilling both as he spoke, "a people by our own choosing, and whoever we accepted among us would be one of us, so who minds that a man was not born a Goth? There are enough among us who were not born Goths, or those whose fathers or mothers were not. We define ourselves -- and a man whose grandmother was born Sarmatian would have agreed with that! And we do not desert our own when they need us; that is what being a people means. These men are our friends! The cats of my homestead were born on theirs, from those they brought from the South; and have they ever caught on among the Gotlanders, superior protection of the harvest against all vermin! As have many other gifts and skills we brought from Italy; and many of those taught well by the two men who might now be accused. Even if the rumours are true and they have taken each other to wife, so to speak, and not some Gotlander women, then we must not leave them to the harsh justice of the Northern lands. It was the King who had let them go in Cumae, the King who accepted that last Roman youth to our number, and he would want us to stand up for them! You know of his own sad tale: - he would never allow one to be rejected merely because he or she had come to us from another people!"

Aligern had sipped his drink during Adalgoth's speech, and now refilled for them both. "You know but barely half of Teja's tale, and the less painful half, at that. No, you cannot know what he would have thought, and you can invoke him even less in front of the Thing, speaking from your youthful hero worship that is, indeed, suspect of that self-same taint to so many, and has always been. Are you not aware of all the rumours? And while they all respect the duke you are, and the prosperous householder and provider of plenty for your people that you have become, they will be ready, at the drop of a pin, to once more remember Teja's cup-bearer and beloved young protegé, and that which many of our people made of that. Never mind they did not mind at the time! I knew my cousin, and the tale of his life, and know that those rumours could not have been true, by his very nature and history; but if you speak up, you shall bring down the taint upon yourself, and on all of us, for allowing you in our midst and making you one of our leaders. Sacrifice must be brought for peace as well as in war."

Aligern drank his cider and glowered at Adalgoth, slapping his beaker upon the table harder than was necessary. Teja, by now, was almost burning to interfere. They were going down a truly dangerous road; the very rift these two men feared was right there, between them! He stepped around the brazier and put his hand upon the table, unheeded. He touched Adalgoth's wrist, but he only shivered, as if a draught had gone by.

"They did not volunteer that sacrifice," Adalgoth said, with a quiet grumble to his voice, like a far-off thunderstorm. "Teja went to his by his own free will; and all of our people that he had to send to the fated rear guard on our way, every last one had volunteered. Teja would not sacrifice a man, woman or child that would rather live! And yes, I have never denied those rumours -- I would have felt a traitor, and a coward, for denying my feelings for my king, in any flavour! For while indeed he never touched me that way, he could have, and if so, I would have..." Adalgoth's voice choked upon his feelings, the drink having brought them out further than was safe, even with Aligern. He sipped his cider, refilled, and spoke again. "I am glad you came to me, Aligern, to tell me what you had heard at King Harald's court, so we may take a stance tomorrow or the day after. We may hold council here by ourselves, as Wachis and the women and children have gone already for the fair that goes with the Thing, while we may follow on swift horses tomorrow. I thank you for that, Aligern. But while you do great work there, at the king's court, married to the king's sister, the one Ostrogoth nobleman that we all trust to speak for us all, you know not what it like here out in the country; and while you may know of all that is politic and dark, shrewd and painful, it was I whom Teja taught the true philosophy of his dark ideals, and yes, despite all smear you fear, I will stand up for them and speak---"

"ENOUGH!" Teja shouted, unable to contain himself any longer, deeply angered by his powerless invisibility. But the men were both drunk enough, it seemed, to see him, and they both looked at him with shock as he stood there, next to the brazier, hands flat upon their table, glowering at them both. "You shall listen to me now, and not guess what I 'would have wanted', each claiming the he knows what that is, and hurting the other by alleging that he does not, for whatever reason. Find me a chair and a cup!"

Aligern looked at him in dumb shock and disbelief, Adalgoth in almost tearful joy before dashing off to find yet another folding chair under the eaves of the house, and a cup -- a much-dented golden cup, indeed, the one that he had served Teja the last of the wine in, on Mount Vesuvius. He had kept it, hidden away, not for use or ostentation, but memory. Aligern, too drunk to hide his thoughts well any more, rolled his eyes with exasperated amusement; but Teja felt touched.

He sat on the chair, and accepted the golden cup with the fragrant cider, and sipped, and looked upon them both. He felt entirely solid now, and the scent from his cup reminded him of the life-giving apples of his strange Valhalla.

"You are so far in your cups," Teja said, "that you can now see that what cannot possibly be there, but is. I have heard you arguing, and know what this is about, and who; and I require no explanation. How certain are you, Aligern, that they will be accused? Was it but a threat thrown around at court, or was it a decision that will stand?"

"It was a firm decision, upon being thwarted over another thing, by a man that feels he was cheated by us Ostrogoths, for we with our Southern skills have made much of the bad lands he sold us cheaply, and he thinks all the wealth we wrested from it could have been his," Aligern said, plainly. "The land those two men have lived on all the time since we came here is part of that. If we stand against that, the man has the very tool he needs to wrest our people apart."

"I can imagine," Teja says. "If that happens, Ostrogoths and Gotlanders will delaminate, and all will have been in vain. It cannot be allowed to happen."

Adalgoth looked at him in pain, but all that he said was "Delaminate?"

"Like the twisted rods that make a good sword, but do not take in the forge-fire?" Aligern asked, for Teja's cousin shared some of his smithing skills, having been his helper during their captivity on Paros, and sometimes since.

"I was thinking of folded steel, rather," Teja said, and briefly explained the technique to Aligern, whose eyes widened with fascination. What if he cheated history to give knowledge from the future, and from far-away lands, to his cousin in what to him must be a drunken dream, just as it was a dream to Teja in his afterlife?

Adalgoth sighed into his cup, subdued.

"But I would not let them die, or sacrifice them, for my Adalgoth is right about me also, just as you are," Teja then continued, and Adalgoth seemed to blossom back from the rejected youth into the strong and able man that he now was, at that confirmation, and that endearment. "If they are accused -- if, for other forces at the court may be as keen to avoid our peoples falling apart as you are, and as clearly see the danger! -- then they must not plead their innocence, but choose exile. Give them their land's worth and send them overseas, to Haithabu, and hence find their way to the south, and at the north and east of our former realms find lands that are lawless still, not ruled over by Byzantium where laws have tightened and become cruel in the years that we fought them, worse than those of these lands; lands where Romans and Germanic people mingle with those of Gaulish origin still. Or send them across the peninsula from Haithabu, and there take ship again to Hibernia, the last peaceful land in the conflagration of our times, where they are Christians of a strange flavour that will, indeed, not turn against the two fugitives and their love."

Aligern stared at him, and Teja repeated, "Accept their guilt, send them away towards yet another new life, if they are so accused; that will take all the wind out of the troublemakers' sails, and keep both our peoples safe, and together, growing into one until division is forgotten, and the isle of Gotland in turn becomes part of a larger realm."

"You know the future, and things you could not have known of while you were alive," Aligern said, staring at Teja in drunken amazement.

"I do," Teja said, "for such is the nature of my afterlife. Remember that upon the morrow: do not fight, but send these men to safety: - forsake neither them nor the future of our people!"

Aligern sighed, and then slowly collapsed, his head upon the table, overcome by drink.

Adalgoth shook his head, and blushed crimson, remembering what he had been saying the very moment when his beloved dead king appeared at his table.

"We are alone now, my Adalgoth," Teja says, "and may take the moment before the drink gets the better of you, the younger and stronger, also. We should speak of that which you spoke of when I came, that which was ever unspoken between us, and followed you into your life as it followed me into my afterlife."

"So you -- knew," Adalgoth said, thickly. "I doubt I even knew myself, at first, and never really knew what it really was that I wanted, or even if I truly wanted it. I knew I wanted to give you everything, anything that you might take, anything that might have pleased you in any way. I may have been misguided, in some of the ways that I expressed it, and you would rightly push me away when I came too close. But, yes."

Feeling, and hot shame at its revelation, made Adalgoth almost incoherent.

"To do what I had to do," Teja said, "I knew I had to be blameless. I must never take anything for myself. I never accepted the gifts I was offered; I could not be accused of anything, when I would ask everything from my people. That is what I thought."

Pause, while Teja sipped his cider.

"For two men to love each other in such a way is against the customs of our people; it was not against the custom of the people we lived among, before they turned towards Christianity. I had found a strong case in its favour, even, in Greek philosophy, when I was young. But then, when you offered and I felt much drawn to accept, I chose not to -- as a man can live sober, or without religion, or without eating meat, so he can live without a lovely and forbidden thing offered in great innocence by one he loves. So I thought. In my afterlife, I not only learned of folded steel, I learned that I was wrong."

Adalgoth shivered, almost sobbed; he reached out to touch Teja's hand, but then flinched back, as if certain that he would not be allowed. Teja took his trembling fingers, steadily, and went on, "In my afterlife, I have gained many good things I never allowed myself to have and hold while I was alive. A forge, three cats, two horses; many strange friends among beings so odd to our people I cannot begin to describe them; and a beloved." Hultha. The gender was undoubtedly male. Adalgoth shivered, and blushed crimson under the golden tan of his skin.

"I think," he said, softly, "that which I feel now is called jealousy. I have not known it before, and I do not like it. I should be glad that you have found happiness in your afterlife, and yet..."

Teja held his hand. "It should have been you that I found it with, in my life; but it wasn't. That is achingly unfair: and yet, life is unfair, and that which should happen, often does not. You knew not truly what you were offering; and I rejected it as immaterial. In my afterlife, I have learned that such a love may be part of a man's nature, just as being bald or left-handed or colour-blind would be, and just as common in nature, and nothing more to be ashamed of, either. A natural variation, not a vice that may be indulged in or not, by choice. Had I known that while I was alive, it would have been you."

Adalgoth nodded, too filled with feeling to even speak. "I went to my death with your kiss upon my lips, and never returned it," Teja went on, and leaned in, and kissed Adalgoth as Adalgoth had kissed him then: - warm and chaste, lips firm and closed, for a long time, and with great feeling.

"Remember on the morrow that you must not fight the Gotlanders, but send those men to safety," Teja said, letting go of Adalgoth and standing up. "But, as Aligern will remember folded steel, you must also remember that I loved you as you loved me, and that all that was not spoken of between us, is yet good and true. Farewell, my Adalgoth."

There was a true draught now in the silent house, as a large red cat was making its way inside, pushing aside a thick cloth that covered a little hole in the great door. Upon this draft of fresh air, Teja felt himself blown away and dissolve to the faint spirit that he had been, while Adalgoth, overtaken by drink at last, sobbed a last time and sank upon the table, fast asleep.

Teja woke in his own bed in Milliways; but the taste of apples on Adalgoth's lips remained with him for a long while.



[[OOC: Many elements of this had occasionally occurred to me; but the inspiration to write this now and in this shape came entirely from an IM conversation with saphyria last night, so many thanks to her for the idea! By now, two years into playing Teja at Milliways, I have accepted that he'll never have canon mates because his canon is completely unpalatable to everybody, even in the watered-down translation; so I no longer hesitate to give Adalgoth millicanon at last, and give Teja some sort of closure with it.]]