Fic: Past, Present and Future (3/4)
Meta and Part 1
Part 2
Charles' first time in Atlantis had been during the fight Queen Elizabeth had with the college over the navy funding. As a result, he thought he knew the court at its worst, its most chaotic, its most terrifying. On the day the trial of the former regent began, he knew he had been utterly wrong.
That day also informed him of a grave misunderstanding on his part. When the queen had lost control of her court and been forced to acquiesce to their demands regarding the nation's military, Charles had unconsciously assumed that it was because of weakness on her part, despite knowing that it was his father's guile that had delivered the final, indefensible blow. Now, as another struggle for attention and importance was swirling through the college of lords, Elizabeth of Atalan stood before her throne and took the command and authority that were hers by right. There was no question of who would preside over the trial. She would do so herself.
Charles watched from the gallery, along with other noblemen's sons and the dignitaries from other nations. Though the days were frigid, the crowded chamber was almost unbearably hot. His gaze was often fixed upon the dais, but not upon the queen. Instead, he watched the two young ladies who sat just behind her, parchment and quill in hand as they both discreetly made notes of the proceedings. It took him a while to realize why, as there were two official scribes for the court, dutifully making their own records. But Kate and Laura were not transcribing the testimony. Instead, they were observing the members of the college and watching their reactions to the various developments of the trial.
He came to the trial at first because there was literally nothing else to do in those days. The only people in the palace not packed into that chamber were the soldiers guarding the island and the servants. As the trial progressed, however, he began to feel a deeply personal connection to it. He suspected that most of the assembled witnesses, at least those born in Atalan, felt a certain sense of awe as they heard an accounting of all the things their queen had endured and survived after the college made the terrible choice to appoint Robert Kinsey regent instead of respecting King Edmund's wishes. But for Charles, the trial was personal for other reasons. As Kinsey's crimes against queen and country were enumerated, Charles heard in them the reasons his father had never enumerated for spending those ten years away from home.
He had harbored so much bitterness on that score. It was impossible that a few days of testimony against Kinsey would eradicate all the problems between father and son, but in those days Charles was forced to confront an unpleasant truth. He had always assumed that his father had all but abandoned Neill for shallow and petty reasons. Even knowing that the young queen-elect needed nurturing and protection had not shaken him of that conviction, for that had seemed too easy an excuse. Now he learned in stark detail of the dangers Elizabeth had faced. His father had spent those ten years placing himself between Elizabeth and those dangers, hoping against hope that the child would not just survive, but grow up to be the woman the country would so desperately need once Kinsey was gone, once and for all.
Such musings led him inevitably to think of the other members of the queen's inner circle, especially Kate. Kate had been with the queen since the deaths of Edmund and Margaret, and as such was one of the few with intimate knowledge of what the regency had meant to Queen Elizabeth. When they caught glimpses of each other before and after the trial, Kate would look at him apologetically. It was clear that she would not be parted from her lady at this time, and Charles would not begrudge her that. He could wait.
But as the days passed and he saw her so confidently observing the trial, Charles began to doubt his chances. She had a life here, and an important role in the queen's court. For all that he was willing to stay in Atlantis for a time, he was not willing to stay forever. He liked the quiet life he had in Neill, and had no desire for another. He was much better suited to watching the border, ready to sound the alarm, than watching politicians argue endlessly. To be sure, he knew that someday he would have to take his father's place in the college, but in the interim he wanted nothing to do with Atlantis.
He liked Kate, certainly. He respected her loyalty, and he found her to be intelligent, charming, and lovely. She had a calm and serene disposition that suited his own desire for peace and quiet. Patient and kind, she would make an excellent mother, and he believed the people of Neill would grow to love her as marchioness someday.
He hoped that the life he wanted would suit Kate. After spending eleven years in the chaos of Atlantis, perhaps she was as keen as he was on choosing a life far away from the intrigue and madness of court. But Charles couldn't be sure. As the trial came to its inevitable close and Kate remained in seclusion with the queen, his doubts increased tenfold.
*~*~*~*
Three days before Solstice, Daniel watched as Queen Elizabeth rose before the assembled college of lords and condemned Robert Kinsey to death, "in accordance with the ancient laws of Atalan." He had been convicted by the college of murder and high treason against the nation. Not a murmur of protest echoed in the room as the queen swept to the doors, Captain Lorne at her side and Laura and Kate trailing faithfully in her wake.
Elizabeth's face was a cold, pale mask. Only her eyes glittered with anger. Daniel thought for a moment to follow, but he suspected no one else's company would be welcomed just now, not even Lord John's, had he and Elizabeth been on speaking terms at the moment. Daniel did not know what precisely had passed between them to spark this anger, but he had other things on his mind.
Kinsey was led away by the guards and the college began to disperse. Samuels and a few of Kinsey's other former supporters were clustered together, but none of them had dared risk Elizabeth's wrath by expressing that support during the trial. Some of them had visited Kinsey in his cell in the dungeons, so the guards had reported to Jack, but the mood in the college was such that no man dared thwart the trial or its conclusion. Which did not mean that the consequences of Kinsey's execution tomorrow morning would not remain.
Jack appeared at Daniel's side and they exchanged a look before heading for Daniel's office. The desk was strewn with papers, including a letter from Lord George, sent when news of Kinsey's delivery to Atlantis had reached him. Daniel had sorely missed the man in the last week as the trial had proceeded.
In a way, though, Lord George's absence had forced Daniel to take a long overdue step and work closely with Jack to organize the proceedings. Since the fever, they had been near strangers to each other, their argument overshadowing every conversation. Now, with Jacob still absent and Lord George gone, Daniel felt as if the only person who fully remembered Kinsey's rule as well as he did was his old friend.
They sat on either side of the desk, as of old, each with a mug in hand, the silence no longer holding the awkwardness of the last few months. Daniel sipped his wine and reflected that his only strong emotion at the moment was relief. Sitting through the trial had reminded him of all the fear and impotent fury of the regency, when every day seemed to present a new threat to Elizabeth's life and her future. He remembered the constant worry and watching, remembered burying Captain Sumner the day after Elizabeth's coronation, and felt glad to see that era of his country's history finally come to a close.
Jack sighed. "I confess, knowing that Simmons is gone and we will soon rid the earth of Kinsey, I can feel little but relief." He looked at Daniel. "I know there will be other threats to Elizabeth from some quarter, but it is a load off my mind to know this particular one is finished."
Daniel nodded. "I know. We spent so many years struggling to protect her from him, it is strange to know this is almost over. At least as far as Kinsey himself is concerned."
Jack was lost in thought for a moment. "You told me once you thought Elizabeth almost wished she had been there for Simmons' execution."
Daniel put his mug on the desk. "In her heart, I'm sure she was glad not to witness it. Tomorrow will be difficult enough for her."
"The more so that Lord John appears to have lost her favor. For the moment," Jack added with a small flash of his old humor. Daniel merely glared, but his heart wasn't in it.
"It will be hard for her, but it is justice, and it must be done. She will never be a violent person and I believe the country is better for it."
A silence fell, and it was obvious what they were both thinking. Jack looked down at his hands, subdued. "I agree."
Months ago, when speaking to Teal'c, Daniel had known he needed to speak to Jack. Only now, with the year almost at an end, did he finally find his voice. "I owe you an apology," he said lowly.
Jack shifted uncomfortably. "It's not necessary."
"Yes, it is, Jack," he contradicted. "I'm not apologizing for my anger, but I never should have... said what I said. Kinsey was a traitor, both to his queen and his country. I had no right to use that word with you."
Jack said nothing for a long spell. Daniel knew his friend too well to expect that he would reply or even acknowledge Daniel's words outright. Still, his own heart felt lighter, for in the silence he could see Jack relax and knew his apology had been accepted.
Jack downed the rest of his drink. "I still can't believe the bastard did nothing to help his wife," he said with contempt. Kinsey had not exerted himself at all throughout his questioning to exonerate Lady Georgiana, even after being told the woman and her young daughter were living as virtual prisoners in Atlantis. Daniel just nodded. It was impossible to feel anything but contempt for a man who left his wife and child so defenseless.
That turned Daniel's mind to another subject. "Speaking of wives," he said, his eyebrows raised.
Jack glared at him, but Daniel had long ago become immune to his friend's glowering. A quiet announcement had been made a week ago that Jack was going to marry Lady Sarah, something that had surprised the court gossips. Though such a thing had been rumored since the spring, it was the kind of rumor nobody ever expected to become fact.
Jack was refusing to speak, so Daniel sighed. "You know, when I asked you to keep her safe last spring, this was not the outcome I had in mind."
Jack shrugged, avoiding looking Daniel in the eye. "This was not what I expected to happen. And I'm certain Sarah didn't expect any of this either."
Had he not known Jack so long, Daniel would not have noticed the slight strain when Jack said "this." Sarah had been pale and withdrawn lately, but had Daniel not also spent the last few months witnessing Laura going through the early stages of pregnancy, he might not have marked Sarah's appearance at all. But his suspicions seemed now on the verge of being confirmed.
"There are quite a number of rumors as to why the wedding is happening so quickly," he observed, unable to restrain his curiosity.
Jack slumped even further in his chair. "Yes, she is carrying my child," he admitted, almost irritably.
Daniel folded his hands in his lap, his expression grave. It occurred to him that Jack had been married almost the entire time Daniel had known him, and while other men took liberal advantage of having their wives hundreds of miles away, infidelity was not in Jack's nature. So Daniel did not really know what he should have expected in such a situation where both Jack and the lady in question were unattached.
The lady in question here, though, had suffered enough for ten lifetimes, and Daniel felt more alarm about Sarah's mental state than the morality of two unmarried people sharing a bed.
His silence must have read as disapproval, for Jack sighed heavily. "I am not proud of my actions, Daniel, but I can't honestly say I would change them, given the chance. And before you speak a word about Sarah, know that I offered to marry her in name only, for the child's sake. I offered to let her remove to Berwynn after the wedding, so that she would have as much freedom as she could. She chose to remain here with me."
Daniel blinked. He had not thought that far ahead yet, but it did speak to Sarah's feelings that she would be willing to stay in court as Jack's wife, knowing that within a matter of weeks, the reason for their hasty marriage would be incontrovertible. The truth would have come out, of course, but in the relative privacy of Berwynn, Sarah would not have had to countenance court gossip to her face.
"Will the child then be the heir to Berwynn?" he asked. "Given that Charles already is basically in charge of Neill, and there is no heir to Sarah's title?"
Jack shook his head. "We... we had not discussed it yet." He got a bemused look on his face. "What on earth made you think of that?"
Daniel got up and poured himself more wine. "I'm not sure. I have been considering the ramifications of Lord John's courtship of Elizabeth, so perhaps that put the issue in my mind."
"Has that been announced? I had not heard."
"Not yet, not in any official way. Lord George hinted that he had spoken to John when he was last here, but neither of them has spoken to me." He sat down again. "Still, it is not hard to see what is coming. Most of the palace heard the speculations of their intimacies during John's last visit."
"I suppose I cannot be brought in to lecture them on the importance of discretion," Jack observed ruefully.
Daniel snorted. "No. You should probably be grateful that Kinsey's trial has somewhat dampened the energy of the court in talking over your imminent remarriage."
"If this is dampened, I would hate to see it at full strength," Jack grumbled. "What will you do about Lord John?"
"What do you think of the match?" Daniel shot back without answering, though he suspected he knew Jack's feelings already.
"He is hotheaded and stubborn at times, and not terribly polished in dealing with courtiers or politics. But he is shrewd enough to learn, and it's clear he loves the queen deeply, to have risked his own standing in his country to return here as he has. And Elizabeth loves him." Jack's expression told Daniel his old friend was remembering their last attempt at arranging Elizabeth's personal life. "If he is her choice, I doubt much will stand in their way."
"Indeed. Though removing some of those obstacles may be my task." He paused one more time. "I will need your help in swaying the college, when the time comes." Jack nodded, and Daniel grinned. "But perhaps we should get you through your wedding first."
Jack just rolled his eyes.
*~*~*~*
When John had been exiled from Caldora, his trial had been conducted behind closed doors with only members of the assembly present. Robert Kinsey's trial was not precisely public, but several ambassadors had been allowed to silently observe the proceedings. John had sat beside the Jaffa ambassador through most of it, and even now that the sentence had been carried out and the matter was officially closed, his mind was still racing.
The mood of the crowd gathered in the town square that morning had been more subdued than he had expected. There was some shouting but the men and women of Atlantis had seemed more grave than anything. John suspected the reason the execution had not been held within the walls of the palace was to emphasize that Kinsey's crimes had not just been against the monarch, but the whole nation. The queen had viewed the event from atop the outer wall of the palace, almost indistinguishable in her black gown from the guards gathered around her.
Knowing how much Elizabeth disliked violence, he knew it could not have been easy for her to do, but after condemning the man, she witnessed his execution with her own eyes. Whatever satisfaction she might take in seeing justice done, he knew that Elizabeth felt no pleasure in sending Robert Kinsey to his death. Unfortunately, he had not offered her much comfort. After their confrontation the night of Kinsey's arrival, John had not attempted to see her in private at any point, for his anger was still seething. Elizabeth had not summoned him either. As the proceedings had stretched out, Elizabeth seemed to retreat from most of the court, preferring the company of her ladies in waiting, her cousin, Jack and Teyla. It was understandable, given the emotions the trial must have dredged up for them all. John, for all that he bore a scar upon his body because of Robert Kinsey, was not a part of that.
John's own fury had finally begun to wane as the trial drew to a close. Listening to the account of Kinsey's crimes, his neglect of the nation in order to fatten his own purse, and his conspiring with the known enemies of Atalan to assassinate the heir to the throne, the significance of this moment had finally begun to sink in for John. Logically he knew Elizabeth's life had been full of complications long before he had ever laid eyes on her. Hearing in detail the threats to her life and the damages she still was struggling to repair brought the truth home to him in a different way.
When he'd first learned of Elizabeth's message to Ba'al, all John could think of were the soldiers who died at the final battle with the Goa'uld. That the invaders would attack in full fledged battle only to turn and depart as soon as an excuse presented itself in the form of the Asgard weapon had long been a source of confusion. He remembered the terrified hours he had spent fearing that his cousin was dead, or worse, captured. John couldn't keep from dwelling on how different the outcome might have been if he had been able to take the intelligence about Osiris to King Henry immediately upon his return. Could that final battle have been avoided entirely? Could Henry have turned the negotiations to Caldora's advantage with this information? Even if none of that had come to pass, surely it would have been easier knowing the truth. Speculating that the death of Osiris had something to do with it was very different than knowing that some unseen hand had tipped off Ba'al and brought those events about.
Elizabeth had known sending Ba'al that message might hasten the end of the invasion. It had been her main motivation in doing so, to benefit Caldora, Atalan and all the other nations at threat from the Goa'uld. Whatever John's personal preferences might have been, whatever wisdom hindsight had granted him, it had worked. With a single action Elizabeth had altered the fate of thousands of people across several nations.
He would have preferred Elizabeth to have shared her information with him, but in his anger he had not given due consideration to all the many factors the Queen of Atalan had to weigh in the balance that were not relevant to him personally. It was an overwhelming burden for anyone to bear, and for all she seemed so wise to John, she was still young, still learning.
Helping her bear that weight would be his responsibility if he married her, and it should have been his duty as her friend. His anger had overshadowed that for a while. Now, John knew he had to atone for his absence over the last week, and do what he promised himself he would do: help Elizabeth, not add to her worries.
He was sensitive enough, however, not to pursue her right now. The next day would be Solstice Eve, a good day for making amends, as Teyla had once told him. No matter how badly he wished to resolve things between them, he suspected Elizabeth would need some privacy today.
He went instead in search of Daniel, as Kate had advised. Though he had not proposed to Elizabeth yet, there was no point in wasting time seeking the counsel of her cousin and only family. John rolled his eyes a little at himself. He was already beginning to think like a politician.
*~*~*~*
Elizabeth had no new gown for Solstice this year, but with the weight she had lost in her illness, the laces on last year's gown had to be drawn tighter than before. While Kate tried unsuccessfully to keep her worries over Elizabeth's health from showing, Laura tied the wide red sash in an intricate knot and let the ends hang down in front. "It's not as bad as it was even a few weeks ago," Elizabeth reassured Kate. "It takes time."
Kate looked unconvinced, but Laura patted Elizabeth's arm. "I can give you an excellent way to gain all that weight back, and then some," she teased.
That made Kate roll her eyes, but Elizabeth laughed, glad of a little levity after everything that had happened in recent days. "All in good time, Laura."
Laura pouted. "Once that would have made you blush."
Elizabeth only smiled at that. Then there was a knock upon the door, and Kate went to answer it. "Lord John," she said, sounding surprised. "We did not expect you."
"I came to beg a moment of her Majesty's time," he replied.
Elizabeth turned around then. John looked grave and uncertain of his welcome. While she had been hurt by his absence this past week, she had never been able to resist him much, in any of his moods, so it did not shock anyone when she nodded silently. He stepped into the room and looked at Elizabeth nervously while Kate closed the door. "In private?" he added.
Kate and Laura spared only one brief glance in her direction before leaving for the bedchamber. Elizabeth simply stood and waited. They had not spoken since the night of Kinsey's return, since John had stormed out upon learning that she had withheld something from him when he went to war. She could not entirely blame him, but even if she married him there would always be something she could not immediately discuss with him. She remembered explaining as much to him the day she told him of the invasion, and his similar reaction to that news. The trend of his behavior was starting to worry her.
But to her surprise, he had not come to continue that argument. "I'm sorry, my lady," he said. "I have not served you well these last few days. I should have been a support to you, rather than a burden."
Elizabeth had been striving not to dwell on the trial or the execution all day, for Kinsey and his deeds were now part of the past. But her body trembled as she thought of it. The night after the trial she had lain awake, torn between her repugnance at the idea of ordering the death of another person and her conviction that Kinsey would have killed her if given the chance and she was acting to defend herself and her country. That had not made witnessing the killing blow any easier, though.
Her distress was apparent, for John was at her side in a moment. "Elizabeth?"
She sighed. "I have had months to prepare myself for the day that I was rid of Kinsey," she said lowly. "I had always thought of it as a happy day. Now it seems inappropriate to host a ball on the eve after his execution."
John took her hand and kissed it. "You did what you had to, love," he reminded her. "No more, no less."
"What happened to a time for mercy?" she asked, echoing words of another conversation. She thought she knew what he would say, but she wanted to hear it anyway.
"Kinsey had every chance to mend his ways. Sometimes justice is the only recourse."
Elizabeth nodded. It was nothing she did not already know, but it was good to hear the words. "I am sorry I kept secrets from you, John," she said, "but I was worried about disclosing it to you. I had no idea how Ba'al would react, and I did not want to risk giving you false hope."
John nodded. "I still wish you had told me, but I know you had good reasons for your decision."
Elizabeth relaxed slightly, grateful beyond measure to hear those words. But she bit her lip for a moment, embarrassed. "John, however things stand between us now or in the future, you need to understand that there will always be things I cannot speak to you of."
John grinned a little at her mention of the future, but he met her eyes seriously. "I trust your judgment, my lady."
Her knees went a little weak at that and she folded her other hand over his. They stood in silence for a little while, holding hands. John seemed to shake himself and he lifted up the crown of red and white flowers on the nearby table. Elizabeth moved her hair from her shoulders, and he set the wreath upon her head. "You are quite perfect now, my queen," he said, bowing his head.
Elizabeth had to smile. "Do you know that last year my advisors argued that I could not possibly dance the first dance of Solstice with you? And now I shall."
"This year has changed a great many things, my lady," he said.
When Elizabeth turned away from him to consider the bracelets and rings Kate had laid out for her, John stepped in behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he had the day he returned. For a moment she remembered Laura's joke. Her breath caught as she imagined what it would be like, John holding her thus as she carried their child.
And she wanted him, more than she had ever imagined possible.
John might not have known where her thoughts were tending when he began to nuzzle her neck lightly. But when he kissed her just below her ear, a different thought hit her like a splash of cold water. "John, if you leave a welt on me tonight, I will have you murdered in your sleep."
She could feel his wicked grin. "I shall have to wait until tomorrow, then."
Laughing, she pulled away from him. "Laura, Kate!" she called, and her friends came back into the room. "Help me decide what I shall wear tonight before Lord John distracts me from the task entirely."
"I must be gone in any case," John replied. "But I would have a kiss before I go to the ballroom to meet my fate."
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him, but she stepped forward and kissed him, long and slow. "I should warn you, my lord. I intend to dance till dawn."
He brought her hand to his lips. "If you insist, my lady."
As John was leaving, Daniel appeared in the doorway. Elizabeth smiled at him, and a few minutes later they set off toward the ballroom. Daniel walked slowly, though, and she asked him why.
"I have a feeling, cousin, that this is the last Solstice ball where I will accompany you when the heralds announce your entrance," he said.
Elizabeth blushed a little despite herself but said nothing. "Has he spoken to you yet?" Daniel asked.
She shook her head slightly. "Not yet. I hope it is not because of my vanity, but I expect he will before long."
"And you will accept him."
She took a deep breath before answering him. "I will need your help when the time comes, Daniel. I know you do not approve of him -"
"Cousin," he interrupted gently. "He cares for you very deeply, and I believe he is a man of sound judgment. And he makes you happy." He had to pause to clear his throat. "When the time comes, you will have my help."
For a moment she was overwhelmed; then she kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Daniel."
"Well," he said, "let us see how far my influence will help you before you thank me."
They walked the rest of the way in silence. Despite his admonition, though, Elizabeth could not keep from smiling.
*~*~*~*
The ball was at its peak when the queen slipped away from the dancers to sit in a chair in the corner by Laura, who had danced a little with her husband and with Jack and John but had quickly grown exhausted and required rest. Kate hovered nearby, obviously trying to avoid another dance, though whom she was avoiding was unclear. Teyla excused herself from Lord Benjamin's son and made her way into the queen's presence. "Lady Teyla," Elizabeth said formally, "are you enjoying yourself? I do not believe you attended the ball last year."
"I did not, and I wish that I had," Teyla replied, smiling. The room was exquisitely decorated, the food and wine abundant and the guests all in good spirits. Most of the court had remained in the palace due to the trial, and the company was augmented by dignitaries from several nations who had already arrived for the summit. In the past week, Teyla had spent some time with Lord Hayes of Iolan, and she had dined with Master Teal'c twice, a fact which was sure to have the gossip mongers clucking, though Teyla was only interested in addressing a weakness. She did not know much about the Jaffa and felt her ignorance should be rectified if she was to advise the queen. Teal'c had invited her to visit the Jaffa capital Dakara next year, in fact. Teyla had rarely been outside the borders of Athos, so the prospect was not unwelcome. But Teyla put thoughts of diplomatic business aside. "I am enjoying myself immensely. But I was wondering if Kate might walk with me. I had thought to slip out for some fresh air."
Elizabeth looked up at Kate, who was looking relieved. "That sounds lovely," Kate said.
Elizabeth shooed them away, and together Teyla and Kate escaped the press of revelers into one of the dark, deserted gardens in the chill of the midwinter night. "I must thank you," Kate said once they were alone. "I did not have a good excuse to leave on my own."
"I thought you might be avoiding someone," Teyla observed. "Might it be a certain marquis' son?"
Kate got an annoyed look on her face, but she answered anyway. "Yes. And yes, he asked me, and no, I have not given him an answer yet."
"Are you hoping he will forget that he asked?" Teyla asked, trying to tease her friend, but it did not work well. "Forgive me. I just never dreamed you would need time to think about it."
"I do not think he expected an answer right away," Kate hedged.
"Even so, you did not have one ready for him." Kate turned away from her, but Teyla did not give up her line of questioning. "Kate, I know you had thought of this before. You must have guessed his intentions."
"I did, if for no other reason than my father warned me of those intentions."
Teyla was caught off-guard slightly by Kate's choice of word. "Warned?"
Kate shrugged. "That was what it amounted to." She reached out, skimming snow from a tree branch and watching it melt on her hand. "I know I should want to marry him. He is handsome and kind and will one day be one of the most powerful men in the country." She shook her head. "I must be the only woman who would ever consider refusing him."
"Then why this uncertainty? Are you truly so unsure of your feelings? Or his, for that matter?"
Kate did not answer for several moments, not until Teyla walked around her to face her. "I would have to leave Atlantis," she said quietly. "I know it is what women do. When we marry, we leave our homes. But to go so far from everything and everyone I love... I do not know if I like him well enough to make that sacrifice."
It was perhaps the result of her surroundings, Teyla reflected, that allowed Kate to feel this reluctance. Atlantis was an oddity, as the women who wielded power here did not necessarily leave their homes when bound to another. Elizabeth, of course, was not going anywhere, and the only man in Atlantis Teyla would be obligated to yield to in marriage was Lord Daniel, as she equaled or outranked every other unmarried man in the court save Jack, who was to wed Sarah on the morrow. In any other setting, Kate might not have given serious weight to her desire to stay where she was.
Slowly, Teyla nodded. "Then I can respect your hesitance," she said. "What does the queen make of this?"
"She wants me to see to my own happiness. I'm afraid that counsel has not guided me much."
"Is your happiness here, Kate?" Teyla asked gently.
"Perhaps it is just a fear of change," Kate suggested. Teyla suspected Kate had been going over this argument silently for some days, given how she began to speak more and more quickly. "Perhaps I have gone so long by myself and with my own authority that the thought of removing from Atlantis is daunting. Everything about him should persuade me to accept him, but I think about being married to him and living with him in Neill and someday coming to court with him and... I am not looking for a fairy story, but there is nothing he offers that I want so desperately as to give up what I have now."
Kate's eyes went wide as she realized the implications of her words. The conclusion was not a surprise to Teyla. If Kate had cared enough for the young man, it would not have taken her this many days to formulate an answer. But Teyla did not say so aloud. She laid her hand on Kate's arm. "Then see to your own happiness, Kate," she said. "If what he offers you is not what you truly desire, you would only make both of you miserable by accepting him."
Kate looked deeply unhappy, but far less conflicted than she had even a few minutes ago. Teyla stepped forward to embrace her friend. "It may seem selfish, but it is your life, and no one else's," Teyla reminded her.
Kate drew away and offered a weak smile. "Thank you, Teyla."
After wandering the corridors in silence for a little while, they returned to the festivities. Elizabeth was dancing with Lord John again, but Kate still went back to Laura, getting her something to drink before settling in next to her. Teyla looked across the room to where Charles was trying to disentangle himself from a number of young ladies, and she shook her head to herself.
It was well after midnight before Elizabeth left the ball with her companions. A few minutes later, Teyla followed them, hoping to speak to Elizabeth before she retired for the night. But when she reached the queen's door, Marcus was walking toward his own chambers. "Countess, I'm afraid you're too late," he said, then stifled a yawn. "The queen gave strict orders. No one is to disturb her before noon."
Teyla smiled ruefully. "I was going to ask her when I should come in the morning," she said. "I suppose the answer is not in the morning."
Marcus looked amused despite his exhaustion. "I will escort you to your chambers, if you wish."
Teyla took his arm gratefully, though more for the company than for the support. "The ball does make for a very long night," she commented.
"Indeed," he replied. "But I am grateful for one thing. The queen had threatened to dance until dawn, so my night is mercifully not so long as it could have been."
She smiled at that, rather glad herself that when she had left the ball, its energy had not yet abated. The gossips of the court would be there instead of wandering the corridors where they could see Teyla and Marcus walking arm-in-arm through the palace.
But his thoughts seemed far from such concerns. Instead, he seemed conflicted about something, opening his mouth to speak and then stopping himself at least twice before her curiosity got the better of her. "Captain, is there something you wish to say?" she asked.
They were near the queen's study, so Marcus paused, looking around for a moment before he opened the door and ushered Teyla in. When the door was closed behind them, he blurted out, "I have no right at all to ask this, but... Do you know if Charles of Neill has proposed to Kate?"
The question didn't surprise her, and neither did the hurt in his voice. The room was lit only by the half moon reflecting off the snow outside, but Teyla could easily imagine the look on his face. "He has, but when last I spoke to her she had not accepted him," she replied evenly.
His shoulders sagged, but whether from relief or resignation she could not tell. "Come sit with me," she said, moving toward the table near one of the windows, where there was a little more light. He came with her and they both sat down. "Marcus, what happened between you?" she asked. "I know you have been reluctant to say, but I can see that this is eating at you."
"I hardly know where to begin," he murmured, rubbing his face with his palm. "A lord in Iolan was pursuing her and she did nothing to dissuade him. She had her reasons for doing so, but - but I was jealous. Jealous that he could pursue her openly and I was left begging for scraps in secret."
"Marcus," Teyla chided. She knew why the covert nature of the courtship had bothered him, but it was unfair to Kate to speak of her that way.
"I know. But even though she assured me that the difference in rank between us was nothing to her, I never felt I was good enough for her, that I could be accepted."
At that she frowned. "You did not have those concerns with me, at least as I recall."
He looked away, and Teyla had no doubt that he too was thinking of the brief time when they had been lovers. Their affair had been secretive too, but when her father was killed in a Wraith attack and she suddenly found herself the Countess of Athos, they had agreed that Teyla needed time to adjust to her duties at court and with her people. By the time she had figured out what was normal now, the passion between them had cooled, and besides, it was evident even then that Marcus and Kate were developing feelings for each other. Letting go of him had been the right thing to do.
Marcus hedged his answer. "I am closer now to the politics of this place than I was then."
"And perhaps now the matter is closer to your heart?" she suggested kindly. He appeared about to protest, but Teyla knew theirs had not been some grand love affair. She had never cared for him the way Kate did, and it did not pain her to acknowledge that Marcus had felt the same way. "I know that you loved her."
Marcus sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. "And I do still," he replied lowly, with such conviction in his voice that her heart ached for him. "But I have lost her, and it was my own fault. If I had trusted her more... I don't deserve forgiveness for the things I accused her of. She will marry eventually, whether it is Lord Jack's son or some other lord, and I sincerely hope she will be happy. But I can't pretend that it is not painful to watch."
Teyla laid her hand over his. "Have you spoken any of this to her?" she asked, thinking of Kate, torn between what her heart wanted and what was expected of her.
He shook his head. "We've hardly been alone since the queen's illness, and we were hardly speaking before that. I did not want to risk our friendship by reopening the subject."
She paused for a moment, wondering how much to say. She did not wish to meddle, but Marcus needed to hear some words of encouragement, if only to completely heal his friendship with Kate. "Then if you can bear a little advice," she said, "tell her what you have told me. I have not known her as long as you have, but whether you believe your offenses are pardonable or not, Kate has a great capacity to forgive, and it should be for her to decide."
Marcus nodded, but he looked unconvinced. Teyla could only hope that he would take her advice to heart, but for now it was probably time to end the conversation. "I should retire," she said. "Otherwise I shall never be awake in time to assist Lady Sarah tomorrow."
They walked together the rest of the way to her chambers in silence. At the door, though, he did something he almost never did with any of the noblewomen, even the queen: he kissed her hand. "Thank you, Teyla," he said quietly.
"Good night, Marcus," she replied. "And please, think about what I said."
"I will."
Part 2
Charles' first time in Atlantis had been during the fight Queen Elizabeth had with the college over the navy funding. As a result, he thought he knew the court at its worst, its most chaotic, its most terrifying. On the day the trial of the former regent began, he knew he had been utterly wrong.
That day also informed him of a grave misunderstanding on his part. When the queen had lost control of her court and been forced to acquiesce to their demands regarding the nation's military, Charles had unconsciously assumed that it was because of weakness on her part, despite knowing that it was his father's guile that had delivered the final, indefensible blow. Now, as another struggle for attention and importance was swirling through the college of lords, Elizabeth of Atalan stood before her throne and took the command and authority that were hers by right. There was no question of who would preside over the trial. She would do so herself.
Charles watched from the gallery, along with other noblemen's sons and the dignitaries from other nations. Though the days were frigid, the crowded chamber was almost unbearably hot. His gaze was often fixed upon the dais, but not upon the queen. Instead, he watched the two young ladies who sat just behind her, parchment and quill in hand as they both discreetly made notes of the proceedings. It took him a while to realize why, as there were two official scribes for the court, dutifully making their own records. But Kate and Laura were not transcribing the testimony. Instead, they were observing the members of the college and watching their reactions to the various developments of the trial.
He came to the trial at first because there was literally nothing else to do in those days. The only people in the palace not packed into that chamber were the soldiers guarding the island and the servants. As the trial progressed, however, he began to feel a deeply personal connection to it. He suspected that most of the assembled witnesses, at least those born in Atalan, felt a certain sense of awe as they heard an accounting of all the things their queen had endured and survived after the college made the terrible choice to appoint Robert Kinsey regent instead of respecting King Edmund's wishes. But for Charles, the trial was personal for other reasons. As Kinsey's crimes against queen and country were enumerated, Charles heard in them the reasons his father had never enumerated for spending those ten years away from home.
He had harbored so much bitterness on that score. It was impossible that a few days of testimony against Kinsey would eradicate all the problems between father and son, but in those days Charles was forced to confront an unpleasant truth. He had always assumed that his father had all but abandoned Neill for shallow and petty reasons. Even knowing that the young queen-elect needed nurturing and protection had not shaken him of that conviction, for that had seemed too easy an excuse. Now he learned in stark detail of the dangers Elizabeth had faced. His father had spent those ten years placing himself between Elizabeth and those dangers, hoping against hope that the child would not just survive, but grow up to be the woman the country would so desperately need once Kinsey was gone, once and for all.
Such musings led him inevitably to think of the other members of the queen's inner circle, especially Kate. Kate had been with the queen since the deaths of Edmund and Margaret, and as such was one of the few with intimate knowledge of what the regency had meant to Queen Elizabeth. When they caught glimpses of each other before and after the trial, Kate would look at him apologetically. It was clear that she would not be parted from her lady at this time, and Charles would not begrudge her that. He could wait.
But as the days passed and he saw her so confidently observing the trial, Charles began to doubt his chances. She had a life here, and an important role in the queen's court. For all that he was willing to stay in Atlantis for a time, he was not willing to stay forever. He liked the quiet life he had in Neill, and had no desire for another. He was much better suited to watching the border, ready to sound the alarm, than watching politicians argue endlessly. To be sure, he knew that someday he would have to take his father's place in the college, but in the interim he wanted nothing to do with Atlantis.
He liked Kate, certainly. He respected her loyalty, and he found her to be intelligent, charming, and lovely. She had a calm and serene disposition that suited his own desire for peace and quiet. Patient and kind, she would make an excellent mother, and he believed the people of Neill would grow to love her as marchioness someday.
He hoped that the life he wanted would suit Kate. After spending eleven years in the chaos of Atlantis, perhaps she was as keen as he was on choosing a life far away from the intrigue and madness of court. But Charles couldn't be sure. As the trial came to its inevitable close and Kate remained in seclusion with the queen, his doubts increased tenfold.
*~*~*~*
Three days before Solstice, Daniel watched as Queen Elizabeth rose before the assembled college of lords and condemned Robert Kinsey to death, "in accordance with the ancient laws of Atalan." He had been convicted by the college of murder and high treason against the nation. Not a murmur of protest echoed in the room as the queen swept to the doors, Captain Lorne at her side and Laura and Kate trailing faithfully in her wake.
Elizabeth's face was a cold, pale mask. Only her eyes glittered with anger. Daniel thought for a moment to follow, but he suspected no one else's company would be welcomed just now, not even Lord John's, had he and Elizabeth been on speaking terms at the moment. Daniel did not know what precisely had passed between them to spark this anger, but he had other things on his mind.
Kinsey was led away by the guards and the college began to disperse. Samuels and a few of Kinsey's other former supporters were clustered together, but none of them had dared risk Elizabeth's wrath by expressing that support during the trial. Some of them had visited Kinsey in his cell in the dungeons, so the guards had reported to Jack, but the mood in the college was such that no man dared thwart the trial or its conclusion. Which did not mean that the consequences of Kinsey's execution tomorrow morning would not remain.
Jack appeared at Daniel's side and they exchanged a look before heading for Daniel's office. The desk was strewn with papers, including a letter from Lord George, sent when news of Kinsey's delivery to Atlantis had reached him. Daniel had sorely missed the man in the last week as the trial had proceeded.
In a way, though, Lord George's absence had forced Daniel to take a long overdue step and work closely with Jack to organize the proceedings. Since the fever, they had been near strangers to each other, their argument overshadowing every conversation. Now, with Jacob still absent and Lord George gone, Daniel felt as if the only person who fully remembered Kinsey's rule as well as he did was his old friend.
They sat on either side of the desk, as of old, each with a mug in hand, the silence no longer holding the awkwardness of the last few months. Daniel sipped his wine and reflected that his only strong emotion at the moment was relief. Sitting through the trial had reminded him of all the fear and impotent fury of the regency, when every day seemed to present a new threat to Elizabeth's life and her future. He remembered the constant worry and watching, remembered burying Captain Sumner the day after Elizabeth's coronation, and felt glad to see that era of his country's history finally come to a close.
Jack sighed. "I confess, knowing that Simmons is gone and we will soon rid the earth of Kinsey, I can feel little but relief." He looked at Daniel. "I know there will be other threats to Elizabeth from some quarter, but it is a load off my mind to know this particular one is finished."
Daniel nodded. "I know. We spent so many years struggling to protect her from him, it is strange to know this is almost over. At least as far as Kinsey himself is concerned."
Jack was lost in thought for a moment. "You told me once you thought Elizabeth almost wished she had been there for Simmons' execution."
Daniel put his mug on the desk. "In her heart, I'm sure she was glad not to witness it. Tomorrow will be difficult enough for her."
"The more so that Lord John appears to have lost her favor. For the moment," Jack added with a small flash of his old humor. Daniel merely glared, but his heart wasn't in it.
"It will be hard for her, but it is justice, and it must be done. She will never be a violent person and I believe the country is better for it."
A silence fell, and it was obvious what they were both thinking. Jack looked down at his hands, subdued. "I agree."
Months ago, when speaking to Teal'c, Daniel had known he needed to speak to Jack. Only now, with the year almost at an end, did he finally find his voice. "I owe you an apology," he said lowly.
Jack shifted uncomfortably. "It's not necessary."
"Yes, it is, Jack," he contradicted. "I'm not apologizing for my anger, but I never should have... said what I said. Kinsey was a traitor, both to his queen and his country. I had no right to use that word with you."
Jack said nothing for a long spell. Daniel knew his friend too well to expect that he would reply or even acknowledge Daniel's words outright. Still, his own heart felt lighter, for in the silence he could see Jack relax and knew his apology had been accepted.
Jack downed the rest of his drink. "I still can't believe the bastard did nothing to help his wife," he said with contempt. Kinsey had not exerted himself at all throughout his questioning to exonerate Lady Georgiana, even after being told the woman and her young daughter were living as virtual prisoners in Atlantis. Daniel just nodded. It was impossible to feel anything but contempt for a man who left his wife and child so defenseless.
That turned Daniel's mind to another subject. "Speaking of wives," he said, his eyebrows raised.
Jack glared at him, but Daniel had long ago become immune to his friend's glowering. A quiet announcement had been made a week ago that Jack was going to marry Lady Sarah, something that had surprised the court gossips. Though such a thing had been rumored since the spring, it was the kind of rumor nobody ever expected to become fact.
Jack was refusing to speak, so Daniel sighed. "You know, when I asked you to keep her safe last spring, this was not the outcome I had in mind."
Jack shrugged, avoiding looking Daniel in the eye. "This was not what I expected to happen. And I'm certain Sarah didn't expect any of this either."
Had he not known Jack so long, Daniel would not have noticed the slight strain when Jack said "this." Sarah had been pale and withdrawn lately, but had Daniel not also spent the last few months witnessing Laura going through the early stages of pregnancy, he might not have marked Sarah's appearance at all. But his suspicions seemed now on the verge of being confirmed.
"There are quite a number of rumors as to why the wedding is happening so quickly," he observed, unable to restrain his curiosity.
Jack slumped even further in his chair. "Yes, she is carrying my child," he admitted, almost irritably.
Daniel folded his hands in his lap, his expression grave. It occurred to him that Jack had been married almost the entire time Daniel had known him, and while other men took liberal advantage of having their wives hundreds of miles away, infidelity was not in Jack's nature. So Daniel did not really know what he should have expected in such a situation where both Jack and the lady in question were unattached.
The lady in question here, though, had suffered enough for ten lifetimes, and Daniel felt more alarm about Sarah's mental state than the morality of two unmarried people sharing a bed.
His silence must have read as disapproval, for Jack sighed heavily. "I am not proud of my actions, Daniel, but I can't honestly say I would change them, given the chance. And before you speak a word about Sarah, know that I offered to marry her in name only, for the child's sake. I offered to let her remove to Berwynn after the wedding, so that she would have as much freedom as she could. She chose to remain here with me."
Daniel blinked. He had not thought that far ahead yet, but it did speak to Sarah's feelings that she would be willing to stay in court as Jack's wife, knowing that within a matter of weeks, the reason for their hasty marriage would be incontrovertible. The truth would have come out, of course, but in the relative privacy of Berwynn, Sarah would not have had to countenance court gossip to her face.
"Will the child then be the heir to Berwynn?" he asked. "Given that Charles already is basically in charge of Neill, and there is no heir to Sarah's title?"
Jack shook his head. "We... we had not discussed it yet." He got a bemused look on his face. "What on earth made you think of that?"
Daniel got up and poured himself more wine. "I'm not sure. I have been considering the ramifications of Lord John's courtship of Elizabeth, so perhaps that put the issue in my mind."
"Has that been announced? I had not heard."
"Not yet, not in any official way. Lord George hinted that he had spoken to John when he was last here, but neither of them has spoken to me." He sat down again. "Still, it is not hard to see what is coming. Most of the palace heard the speculations of their intimacies during John's last visit."
"I suppose I cannot be brought in to lecture them on the importance of discretion," Jack observed ruefully.
Daniel snorted. "No. You should probably be grateful that Kinsey's trial has somewhat dampened the energy of the court in talking over your imminent remarriage."
"If this is dampened, I would hate to see it at full strength," Jack grumbled. "What will you do about Lord John?"
"What do you think of the match?" Daniel shot back without answering, though he suspected he knew Jack's feelings already.
"He is hotheaded and stubborn at times, and not terribly polished in dealing with courtiers or politics. But he is shrewd enough to learn, and it's clear he loves the queen deeply, to have risked his own standing in his country to return here as he has. And Elizabeth loves him." Jack's expression told Daniel his old friend was remembering their last attempt at arranging Elizabeth's personal life. "If he is her choice, I doubt much will stand in their way."
"Indeed. Though removing some of those obstacles may be my task." He paused one more time. "I will need your help in swaying the college, when the time comes." Jack nodded, and Daniel grinned. "But perhaps we should get you through your wedding first."
Jack just rolled his eyes.
*~*~*~*
When John had been exiled from Caldora, his trial had been conducted behind closed doors with only members of the assembly present. Robert Kinsey's trial was not precisely public, but several ambassadors had been allowed to silently observe the proceedings. John had sat beside the Jaffa ambassador through most of it, and even now that the sentence had been carried out and the matter was officially closed, his mind was still racing.
The mood of the crowd gathered in the town square that morning had been more subdued than he had expected. There was some shouting but the men and women of Atlantis had seemed more grave than anything. John suspected the reason the execution had not been held within the walls of the palace was to emphasize that Kinsey's crimes had not just been against the monarch, but the whole nation. The queen had viewed the event from atop the outer wall of the palace, almost indistinguishable in her black gown from the guards gathered around her.
Knowing how much Elizabeth disliked violence, he knew it could not have been easy for her to do, but after condemning the man, she witnessed his execution with her own eyes. Whatever satisfaction she might take in seeing justice done, he knew that Elizabeth felt no pleasure in sending Robert Kinsey to his death. Unfortunately, he had not offered her much comfort. After their confrontation the night of Kinsey's arrival, John had not attempted to see her in private at any point, for his anger was still seething. Elizabeth had not summoned him either. As the proceedings had stretched out, Elizabeth seemed to retreat from most of the court, preferring the company of her ladies in waiting, her cousin, Jack and Teyla. It was understandable, given the emotions the trial must have dredged up for them all. John, for all that he bore a scar upon his body because of Robert Kinsey, was not a part of that.
John's own fury had finally begun to wane as the trial drew to a close. Listening to the account of Kinsey's crimes, his neglect of the nation in order to fatten his own purse, and his conspiring with the known enemies of Atalan to assassinate the heir to the throne, the significance of this moment had finally begun to sink in for John. Logically he knew Elizabeth's life had been full of complications long before he had ever laid eyes on her. Hearing in detail the threats to her life and the damages she still was struggling to repair brought the truth home to him in a different way.
When he'd first learned of Elizabeth's message to Ba'al, all John could think of were the soldiers who died at the final battle with the Goa'uld. That the invaders would attack in full fledged battle only to turn and depart as soon as an excuse presented itself in the form of the Asgard weapon had long been a source of confusion. He remembered the terrified hours he had spent fearing that his cousin was dead, or worse, captured. John couldn't keep from dwelling on how different the outcome might have been if he had been able to take the intelligence about Osiris to King Henry immediately upon his return. Could that final battle have been avoided entirely? Could Henry have turned the negotiations to Caldora's advantage with this information? Even if none of that had come to pass, surely it would have been easier knowing the truth. Speculating that the death of Osiris had something to do with it was very different than knowing that some unseen hand had tipped off Ba'al and brought those events about.
Elizabeth had known sending Ba'al that message might hasten the end of the invasion. It had been her main motivation in doing so, to benefit Caldora, Atalan and all the other nations at threat from the Goa'uld. Whatever John's personal preferences might have been, whatever wisdom hindsight had granted him, it had worked. With a single action Elizabeth had altered the fate of thousands of people across several nations.
He would have preferred Elizabeth to have shared her information with him, but in his anger he had not given due consideration to all the many factors the Queen of Atalan had to weigh in the balance that were not relevant to him personally. It was an overwhelming burden for anyone to bear, and for all she seemed so wise to John, she was still young, still learning.
Helping her bear that weight would be his responsibility if he married her, and it should have been his duty as her friend. His anger had overshadowed that for a while. Now, John knew he had to atone for his absence over the last week, and do what he promised himself he would do: help Elizabeth, not add to her worries.
He was sensitive enough, however, not to pursue her right now. The next day would be Solstice Eve, a good day for making amends, as Teyla had once told him. No matter how badly he wished to resolve things between them, he suspected Elizabeth would need some privacy today.
He went instead in search of Daniel, as Kate had advised. Though he had not proposed to Elizabeth yet, there was no point in wasting time seeking the counsel of her cousin and only family. John rolled his eyes a little at himself. He was already beginning to think like a politician.
*~*~*~*
Elizabeth had no new gown for Solstice this year, but with the weight she had lost in her illness, the laces on last year's gown had to be drawn tighter than before. While Kate tried unsuccessfully to keep her worries over Elizabeth's health from showing, Laura tied the wide red sash in an intricate knot and let the ends hang down in front. "It's not as bad as it was even a few weeks ago," Elizabeth reassured Kate. "It takes time."
Kate looked unconvinced, but Laura patted Elizabeth's arm. "I can give you an excellent way to gain all that weight back, and then some," she teased.
That made Kate roll her eyes, but Elizabeth laughed, glad of a little levity after everything that had happened in recent days. "All in good time, Laura."
Laura pouted. "Once that would have made you blush."
Elizabeth only smiled at that. Then there was a knock upon the door, and Kate went to answer it. "Lord John," she said, sounding surprised. "We did not expect you."
"I came to beg a moment of her Majesty's time," he replied.
Elizabeth turned around then. John looked grave and uncertain of his welcome. While she had been hurt by his absence this past week, she had never been able to resist him much, in any of his moods, so it did not shock anyone when she nodded silently. He stepped into the room and looked at Elizabeth nervously while Kate closed the door. "In private?" he added.
Kate and Laura spared only one brief glance in her direction before leaving for the bedchamber. Elizabeth simply stood and waited. They had not spoken since the night of Kinsey's return, since John had stormed out upon learning that she had withheld something from him when he went to war. She could not entirely blame him, but even if she married him there would always be something she could not immediately discuss with him. She remembered explaining as much to him the day she told him of the invasion, and his similar reaction to that news. The trend of his behavior was starting to worry her.
But to her surprise, he had not come to continue that argument. "I'm sorry, my lady," he said. "I have not served you well these last few days. I should have been a support to you, rather than a burden."
Elizabeth had been striving not to dwell on the trial or the execution all day, for Kinsey and his deeds were now part of the past. But her body trembled as she thought of it. The night after the trial she had lain awake, torn between her repugnance at the idea of ordering the death of another person and her conviction that Kinsey would have killed her if given the chance and she was acting to defend herself and her country. That had not made witnessing the killing blow any easier, though.
Her distress was apparent, for John was at her side in a moment. "Elizabeth?"
She sighed. "I have had months to prepare myself for the day that I was rid of Kinsey," she said lowly. "I had always thought of it as a happy day. Now it seems inappropriate to host a ball on the eve after his execution."
John took her hand and kissed it. "You did what you had to, love," he reminded her. "No more, no less."
"What happened to a time for mercy?" she asked, echoing words of another conversation. She thought she knew what he would say, but she wanted to hear it anyway.
"Kinsey had every chance to mend his ways. Sometimes justice is the only recourse."
Elizabeth nodded. It was nothing she did not already know, but it was good to hear the words. "I am sorry I kept secrets from you, John," she said, "but I was worried about disclosing it to you. I had no idea how Ba'al would react, and I did not want to risk giving you false hope."
John nodded. "I still wish you had told me, but I know you had good reasons for your decision."
Elizabeth relaxed slightly, grateful beyond measure to hear those words. But she bit her lip for a moment, embarrassed. "John, however things stand between us now or in the future, you need to understand that there will always be things I cannot speak to you of."
John grinned a little at her mention of the future, but he met her eyes seriously. "I trust your judgment, my lady."
Her knees went a little weak at that and she folded her other hand over his. They stood in silence for a little while, holding hands. John seemed to shake himself and he lifted up the crown of red and white flowers on the nearby table. Elizabeth moved her hair from her shoulders, and he set the wreath upon her head. "You are quite perfect now, my queen," he said, bowing his head.
Elizabeth had to smile. "Do you know that last year my advisors argued that I could not possibly dance the first dance of Solstice with you? And now I shall."
"This year has changed a great many things, my lady," he said.
When Elizabeth turned away from him to consider the bracelets and rings Kate had laid out for her, John stepped in behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he had the day he returned. For a moment she remembered Laura's joke. Her breath caught as she imagined what it would be like, John holding her thus as she carried their child.
And she wanted him, more than she had ever imagined possible.
John might not have known where her thoughts were tending when he began to nuzzle her neck lightly. But when he kissed her just below her ear, a different thought hit her like a splash of cold water. "John, if you leave a welt on me tonight, I will have you murdered in your sleep."
She could feel his wicked grin. "I shall have to wait until tomorrow, then."
Laughing, she pulled away from him. "Laura, Kate!" she called, and her friends came back into the room. "Help me decide what I shall wear tonight before Lord John distracts me from the task entirely."
"I must be gone in any case," John replied. "But I would have a kiss before I go to the ballroom to meet my fate."
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him, but she stepped forward and kissed him, long and slow. "I should warn you, my lord. I intend to dance till dawn."
He brought her hand to his lips. "If you insist, my lady."
As John was leaving, Daniel appeared in the doorway. Elizabeth smiled at him, and a few minutes later they set off toward the ballroom. Daniel walked slowly, though, and she asked him why.
"I have a feeling, cousin, that this is the last Solstice ball where I will accompany you when the heralds announce your entrance," he said.
Elizabeth blushed a little despite herself but said nothing. "Has he spoken to you yet?" Daniel asked.
She shook her head slightly. "Not yet. I hope it is not because of my vanity, but I expect he will before long."
"And you will accept him."
She took a deep breath before answering him. "I will need your help when the time comes, Daniel. I know you do not approve of him -"
"Cousin," he interrupted gently. "He cares for you very deeply, and I believe he is a man of sound judgment. And he makes you happy." He had to pause to clear his throat. "When the time comes, you will have my help."
For a moment she was overwhelmed; then she kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Daniel."
"Well," he said, "let us see how far my influence will help you before you thank me."
They walked the rest of the way in silence. Despite his admonition, though, Elizabeth could not keep from smiling.
*~*~*~*
The ball was at its peak when the queen slipped away from the dancers to sit in a chair in the corner by Laura, who had danced a little with her husband and with Jack and John but had quickly grown exhausted and required rest. Kate hovered nearby, obviously trying to avoid another dance, though whom she was avoiding was unclear. Teyla excused herself from Lord Benjamin's son and made her way into the queen's presence. "Lady Teyla," Elizabeth said formally, "are you enjoying yourself? I do not believe you attended the ball last year."
"I did not, and I wish that I had," Teyla replied, smiling. The room was exquisitely decorated, the food and wine abundant and the guests all in good spirits. Most of the court had remained in the palace due to the trial, and the company was augmented by dignitaries from several nations who had already arrived for the summit. In the past week, Teyla had spent some time with Lord Hayes of Iolan, and she had dined with Master Teal'c twice, a fact which was sure to have the gossip mongers clucking, though Teyla was only interested in addressing a weakness. She did not know much about the Jaffa and felt her ignorance should be rectified if she was to advise the queen. Teal'c had invited her to visit the Jaffa capital Dakara next year, in fact. Teyla had rarely been outside the borders of Athos, so the prospect was not unwelcome. But Teyla put thoughts of diplomatic business aside. "I am enjoying myself immensely. But I was wondering if Kate might walk with me. I had thought to slip out for some fresh air."
Elizabeth looked up at Kate, who was looking relieved. "That sounds lovely," Kate said.
Elizabeth shooed them away, and together Teyla and Kate escaped the press of revelers into one of the dark, deserted gardens in the chill of the midwinter night. "I must thank you," Kate said once they were alone. "I did not have a good excuse to leave on my own."
"I thought you might be avoiding someone," Teyla observed. "Might it be a certain marquis' son?"
Kate got an annoyed look on her face, but she answered anyway. "Yes. And yes, he asked me, and no, I have not given him an answer yet."
"Are you hoping he will forget that he asked?" Teyla asked, trying to tease her friend, but it did not work well. "Forgive me. I just never dreamed you would need time to think about it."
"I do not think he expected an answer right away," Kate hedged.
"Even so, you did not have one ready for him." Kate turned away from her, but Teyla did not give up her line of questioning. "Kate, I know you had thought of this before. You must have guessed his intentions."
"I did, if for no other reason than my father warned me of those intentions."
Teyla was caught off-guard slightly by Kate's choice of word. "Warned?"
Kate shrugged. "That was what it amounted to." She reached out, skimming snow from a tree branch and watching it melt on her hand. "I know I should want to marry him. He is handsome and kind and will one day be one of the most powerful men in the country." She shook her head. "I must be the only woman who would ever consider refusing him."
"Then why this uncertainty? Are you truly so unsure of your feelings? Or his, for that matter?"
Kate did not answer for several moments, not until Teyla walked around her to face her. "I would have to leave Atlantis," she said quietly. "I know it is what women do. When we marry, we leave our homes. But to go so far from everything and everyone I love... I do not know if I like him well enough to make that sacrifice."
It was perhaps the result of her surroundings, Teyla reflected, that allowed Kate to feel this reluctance. Atlantis was an oddity, as the women who wielded power here did not necessarily leave their homes when bound to another. Elizabeth, of course, was not going anywhere, and the only man in Atlantis Teyla would be obligated to yield to in marriage was Lord Daniel, as she equaled or outranked every other unmarried man in the court save Jack, who was to wed Sarah on the morrow. In any other setting, Kate might not have given serious weight to her desire to stay where she was.
Slowly, Teyla nodded. "Then I can respect your hesitance," she said. "What does the queen make of this?"
"She wants me to see to my own happiness. I'm afraid that counsel has not guided me much."
"Is your happiness here, Kate?" Teyla asked gently.
"Perhaps it is just a fear of change," Kate suggested. Teyla suspected Kate had been going over this argument silently for some days, given how she began to speak more and more quickly. "Perhaps I have gone so long by myself and with my own authority that the thought of removing from Atlantis is daunting. Everything about him should persuade me to accept him, but I think about being married to him and living with him in Neill and someday coming to court with him and... I am not looking for a fairy story, but there is nothing he offers that I want so desperately as to give up what I have now."
Kate's eyes went wide as she realized the implications of her words. The conclusion was not a surprise to Teyla. If Kate had cared enough for the young man, it would not have taken her this many days to formulate an answer. But Teyla did not say so aloud. She laid her hand on Kate's arm. "Then see to your own happiness, Kate," she said. "If what he offers you is not what you truly desire, you would only make both of you miserable by accepting him."
Kate looked deeply unhappy, but far less conflicted than she had even a few minutes ago. Teyla stepped forward to embrace her friend. "It may seem selfish, but it is your life, and no one else's," Teyla reminded her.
Kate drew away and offered a weak smile. "Thank you, Teyla."
After wandering the corridors in silence for a little while, they returned to the festivities. Elizabeth was dancing with Lord John again, but Kate still went back to Laura, getting her something to drink before settling in next to her. Teyla looked across the room to where Charles was trying to disentangle himself from a number of young ladies, and she shook her head to herself.
It was well after midnight before Elizabeth left the ball with her companions. A few minutes later, Teyla followed them, hoping to speak to Elizabeth before she retired for the night. But when she reached the queen's door, Marcus was walking toward his own chambers. "Countess, I'm afraid you're too late," he said, then stifled a yawn. "The queen gave strict orders. No one is to disturb her before noon."
Teyla smiled ruefully. "I was going to ask her when I should come in the morning," she said. "I suppose the answer is not in the morning."
Marcus looked amused despite his exhaustion. "I will escort you to your chambers, if you wish."
Teyla took his arm gratefully, though more for the company than for the support. "The ball does make for a very long night," she commented.
"Indeed," he replied. "But I am grateful for one thing. The queen had threatened to dance until dawn, so my night is mercifully not so long as it could have been."
She smiled at that, rather glad herself that when she had left the ball, its energy had not yet abated. The gossips of the court would be there instead of wandering the corridors where they could see Teyla and Marcus walking arm-in-arm through the palace.
But his thoughts seemed far from such concerns. Instead, he seemed conflicted about something, opening his mouth to speak and then stopping himself at least twice before her curiosity got the better of her. "Captain, is there something you wish to say?" she asked.
They were near the queen's study, so Marcus paused, looking around for a moment before he opened the door and ushered Teyla in. When the door was closed behind them, he blurted out, "I have no right at all to ask this, but... Do you know if Charles of Neill has proposed to Kate?"
The question didn't surprise her, and neither did the hurt in his voice. The room was lit only by the half moon reflecting off the snow outside, but Teyla could easily imagine the look on his face. "He has, but when last I spoke to her she had not accepted him," she replied evenly.
His shoulders sagged, but whether from relief or resignation she could not tell. "Come sit with me," she said, moving toward the table near one of the windows, where there was a little more light. He came with her and they both sat down. "Marcus, what happened between you?" she asked. "I know you have been reluctant to say, but I can see that this is eating at you."
"I hardly know where to begin," he murmured, rubbing his face with his palm. "A lord in Iolan was pursuing her and she did nothing to dissuade him. She had her reasons for doing so, but - but I was jealous. Jealous that he could pursue her openly and I was left begging for scraps in secret."
"Marcus," Teyla chided. She knew why the covert nature of the courtship had bothered him, but it was unfair to Kate to speak of her that way.
"I know. But even though she assured me that the difference in rank between us was nothing to her, I never felt I was good enough for her, that I could be accepted."
At that she frowned. "You did not have those concerns with me, at least as I recall."
He looked away, and Teyla had no doubt that he too was thinking of the brief time when they had been lovers. Their affair had been secretive too, but when her father was killed in a Wraith attack and she suddenly found herself the Countess of Athos, they had agreed that Teyla needed time to adjust to her duties at court and with her people. By the time she had figured out what was normal now, the passion between them had cooled, and besides, it was evident even then that Marcus and Kate were developing feelings for each other. Letting go of him had been the right thing to do.
Marcus hedged his answer. "I am closer now to the politics of this place than I was then."
"And perhaps now the matter is closer to your heart?" she suggested kindly. He appeared about to protest, but Teyla knew theirs had not been some grand love affair. She had never cared for him the way Kate did, and it did not pain her to acknowledge that Marcus had felt the same way. "I know that you loved her."
Marcus sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. "And I do still," he replied lowly, with such conviction in his voice that her heart ached for him. "But I have lost her, and it was my own fault. If I had trusted her more... I don't deserve forgiveness for the things I accused her of. She will marry eventually, whether it is Lord Jack's son or some other lord, and I sincerely hope she will be happy. But I can't pretend that it is not painful to watch."
Teyla laid her hand over his. "Have you spoken any of this to her?" she asked, thinking of Kate, torn between what her heart wanted and what was expected of her.
He shook his head. "We've hardly been alone since the queen's illness, and we were hardly speaking before that. I did not want to risk our friendship by reopening the subject."
She paused for a moment, wondering how much to say. She did not wish to meddle, but Marcus needed to hear some words of encouragement, if only to completely heal his friendship with Kate. "Then if you can bear a little advice," she said, "tell her what you have told me. I have not known her as long as you have, but whether you believe your offenses are pardonable or not, Kate has a great capacity to forgive, and it should be for her to decide."
Marcus nodded, but he looked unconvinced. Teyla could only hope that he would take her advice to heart, but for now it was probably time to end the conversation. "I should retire," she said. "Otherwise I shall never be awake in time to assist Lady Sarah tomorrow."
They walked together the rest of the way to her chambers in silence. At the door, though, he did something he almost never did with any of the noblewomen, even the queen: he kissed her hand. "Thank you, Teyla," he said quietly.
"Good night, Marcus," she replied. "And please, think about what I said."
"I will."