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rose_in_winterPairings/Characters: Kain Highwind, plus cast
Rating: R (overall), G (this chapter)
Warnings: Spoilers. Violence and language. Occasional sexual content.
Notes: This fic belongs to the Lucis Ante Terminum arc. Chapter list is here.
Summary: Though it is possible to return home, it is rarely possible to return affairs to their previous state. Sometimes the only course of action is to move forward.
Wordcount: 2300 this chapter.
Beta:celeloriel
Kain preceded Cecil and Rosa into the throne room, and took up his usual stance at Cecil's left hand. Twice a month, Cecil opened his audience chamber to anyone in Baron who wished to bring a grievance before the King, and today was one such audience day. Few of the nobles had bothered to attend, although House Darmin and House Nerthic had both sent representatives, as they always did. On this particular day, Lord Darmin himself was in attendance, as well as Lord Nerthic's heir, Bryant. Cecil waited until the Secretary of the Presence had settled himself before nodding to the Dragoons on guard at the double doors to let the first petitioner through.
The first few petitions were nothing out of the ordinary, the usual small disputes over land and grazing rights. One young woman petitioned to have her arranged betrothal dissolved, citing love for a young man of lesser station. Cecil and Rosa were swift to agree, much to the frustration of the young woman's father.
The final petitioner of the day entered the hall slowly, leaning heavily on a carved wooden cane. He was an older man, well-dressed in clothes of good quality, and held himself firmly upright as he progressed down the long aisle to the dais. Something about him was naggingly familiar to Kain, but he could not place the resemblance. He was accompanied by a thin, nervous-looking man of middle age who bore a strong resemblance to him.
"Lord Tyrell," Cecil said, and inclined his head. "It is a pleasure to see you again. How may we assist you?"
The name jogged Kain's memory. He dimly recalled Malcolm Tyrell visiting Baron City twice during his youth, to attend the conclave that was held every seven years, at which all the nobles discussed matters of trade and changes to the law, and presented their conclusions to the King more formally than at regular council meetings. His memory of this particular lord was a quiet man, who thoroughly considered his words. Lord Tyrell’s lands, during his journey around Baron, had been the best tended, and Kain could not remember seeing the man in Baron anytime other than at the conclaves.
Lord Tyrell carefully lowered himself to one knee in obeisance. "Your Majesty, thank you for receiving me."
Behind his helmet, Kain raised an eyebrow. The next Council meeting was in two days; he would have expected a member of the nobility to present any issues or cases there. Most of them considered themselves too important to come to a "commoners' session."
"We are pleased to see you back in the capital," Rosa said. "What brings you here?"
Lord Tyrell rose with some difficulty and leaned on his cane. "I regret that I must beg Your Majesties' aid," he said, and his reluctance was so great that it seemed he had difficulty speaking the words at all. Kain wondered if it was pride or dislike of Cecil that stifled the Lord's tongue.
"Our aid?" Cecil leaned forward, all curiosity. "What is it that you need?"
"My need requires a short explanation, if Your Majesty would be so kind as to indulge me."
Cecil made a sweeping gesture. "By all means, Lord Tyrell."
"Twenty-five years ago, I undertook a project to restore the roads in my territory. We are subject to rather severe winter storms in the west, and the construction techniques used in the rest of Baron are rarely of use to us, for the roads built in such manner tend to need to be rebuilt every few years or so. I hired engineers from Fabul and had them design a better form, one that would last longer. The materials for construction were expensive, and the project took about five years to complete."
"Were you not reimbursed?" Cecil asked. "I was under the impression that King Peter and King Odin, may their souls rest in peace, had a policy of reimbursing the lords for improvements undertaken in their domains."
"King Odin did generously offer me some reimbursement, Your Majesty, but I took only the amount that would have been offered to another lord using more traditional methods. Baron's treasury could not support such largesse for what was truly an individualized problem, and I paid the remaining costs out of my own treasury."
Cecil frowned. Kain suppressed a sigh. He could already foresee the battle that would ensue with Lord Eltrin, and it bode ill.
"I have always levied a minimum personal tax on my tenants. Your Majesty may confirm this in the income records; my family lives simply, and we thought that time would allow us to refill our coffers at a reasonable rate. However, there have been very bad storms this harvest season, and our farmers have not enough even to see themselves through the winter, never mind to sell. I can make up a portion of the shortfall myself, but it would leave me without any reserves for the future. Thus do I come in search of aid." Lord Tyrell bowed his head, seeming to gaze at the hands that were clenched tight on his cane.
The nervous-looking man next to him, whom Kain presumed to be his heir, cleared his throat. "Your Majesty, we have brought our records of taxes, expenditures, and improvements for the last fifty years," he said nervously. "I-I think that you will find we are not careless with our tenants, nor with our funds." He was clutching a thick record book, and wobbling under the weight of a satchel that seemed to contain several more.
Cecil nodded to one of the guards by the door. "Have someone take these records to my office; I will review them this afternoon."
"Yes, Your Majesty." The guard saluted and approached to take the books.
"In the meantime," Cecil continued, "have you quarters in the city, Lord Tyrell?"
"We maintain a small house here, yes," Lord Tyrell answered.
"Excellent," Cecil said. "The Council meets in two days' time; I will present my formal decision to them at that time, and I would appreciate your presence there. However, I will tell you that unless I find something very untoward in your records, I will grant you an amount equal to the difference between what you spent on your roads, and what you were reimbursed, with some additional to aid in this shortfallen season."
Both of the men before them looked utterly astonished at this display of largesse. "Your Majesty," Lord Tyrell said hesitantly, "please do not think for a moment that I lack gratitude for your generosity. In fact the truth is that I never expected so much for my lands. But I would not see Baron's ability to fund or defend herself depleted on my behalf. We have gotten along well enough until now, and I daresay that with a little help we can continue to do so. This much . . . it is not needful, Your Majesty."
Kain could guess Cecil's response before it was spoken, and he amused himself by reciting the words in his head as the King spoke them. "It is always needful for Baron to reward her citizens for hard work and efforts to better her, Lord Tyrell. I have received reports of the conditions in your holdings, and without exception they have been excellent. I receive few if any complaints from your tenants, and on his recent tour of the western lands, Kain reported that yours were by far the best-maintained. You deserve some recompense for all the effort you have put into your lands."
Lord Tyrell seemed to draw himself up even straighter, a thing Kain might have dismissed as impossibility a few moments before. "Your Majesty's compliments are gratefully received," he said, "but I do not do these things for accolades."
"And that is why we will give them to you, and more than you asked for," Rosa interjected. "We will see you at the Council two days hence, Lord Tyrell."
Lord Tyrell bowed politely, as did his companion, and took the implicit dismissal. They proceeded slowly out of the room, and the guards closed the doors behind them.
"Your Majesty," one of the Dragoons said, "that was the last of the petitioners."
"Thank you," Cecil said. "The audience is closed."
At the formal words, the attendant noblemen made their obeisance, then gathered their belongings and departed the room. The door scraped closed behind them, and Cecil sighed.
"Well," Kain said. "This ought to liven up the Council meeting."
"Do you truly think they would object?" Rosa asked. "It is the right thing to do. He has done well by his tenants."
"Yes, it is the right thing to do," Kain said. "It is even a politically sound thing to do, ensuring Lord Tyrell's loyalty for years to come. Yet on the other hand, some will complain that they are not receiving handouts, so why should he?"
"Then they should take it as an object lesson that those who work for the betterment of Baron will receive due reward," Cecil said. "Come, Kain. I would have you help me review these records."
"As Your Majesty commands," Kain replied, and accompanied his friend from the room.
~*~
Kain, had he been asked his opinion, would have likened the awful stillness in the Council Chamber to the tense silence before a storm tore open the sky.
He had little doubt that news of Lord Tyrell's request had spread through the nobility like one of Rydia's Firaga spells cut through a group of flans. Most of the Council members were either glaring at Lord Tyrell, where he had taken the seat held open for his House at the end of the table, or glaring in Cecil's direction. Lord Eltrin looked particularly sour-faced this morning, but then again he wailed and gnashed his teeth any time there was discussion of removing any money from the Treasury.
Cecil called the meeting to order, and the silence that reigned was more indicative than anything else of the Council's mood. Normally the room erupted into activity as soon as the meeting was opened, but today no one seemed willing to take that first step.
"The first order of business before the Council will be the predicament of Lord Malcolm Tyrell," Cecil said, after allowing the silence to spin out another few moments. "Lord Tyrell, if you would be so kind as to summarize your situation for the Council?"
Kain shifted his attention from the spoken words to scanning the Councillors' faces for their reactions, knowing that Cecil and Rosa were doing the same. The Councillors weren't bad people, and for the most part managed their lands and people well. However, they fought tooth and nail against any of their number receiving any advantage not also granted to the remainder, and therein lay the problem.
Lord Tyrell finished his explanation. Cecil thanked him and waited for him to be seated again. "So, the Council has heard of the situation in Lord Tyrell's lands. We are inclined to grant his request, and would hear your arguments both in favour and against."
No one spoke, a fact that rather surprised Kain. He had expected someone--Lord Vyran, perhaps, or Lord Marek--to raise a dissenting voice, but perhaps they feared chastisement by their king. Not, he admitted to himself, that such considerations had ever stopped them before.
"Your Majesty," Lord Eltrin said at last, "it is not that I doubt Lord Tyrell's plight. Please do not mistake my cautions for a lack of consideration for his people. Yet if harvests were bad in his lands, they may have been equally bad for others, who have not come to us requesting money. Moreover, if others do request aid from us later, will the Treasury support it? These considerations must be addressed before making a decision."
"It is true that Lord Tyrell knowingly spent more than the Crown would reimburse on his road-building projects and others he has undertaken over the years," Lord Savarin pointed out. "What is to say that this is not some underhanded means of gaining reimbursement?"
"Oh for heavens' sake, Peter," Emily Farrell snapped. "Just because you refuse to spend one copper piece more than you must on your lands does not mean that the rest of us must be similarly constrained. In fact, I would move that we appoint a committee to review the reimbursement guidelines. In Odin's day, may he rest in peace, the Treasury was somewhat leaner than it is now. Surely we can afford to invest in our future?"
Lord Eltrin winced at the idea of more money flowing from the royal coffers, but surprisingly raised no argument.
"Lady Farrell raises a valid point," Lord Demetrick said, though his expression indicated that he was less than comfortable with it. "I cannot see where Malcolm has done anything wrong. It is true that we must all prepare and save against shortfallen season, but I know for a fact that House Tyrell lives leanly."
"I know that you typically prefer not to levy taxes, Lord Tyrell, but perhaps you must consider raising the amount you require from your tenants," Lord Nerthic suggested. "Would Your Majesty consent to make that a condition of the aid rendered, to guard against any such underhanded notions in the future?" He cut a stern look in Lord Savarin's direction, and the latter looked away.
Rosa and Cecil shared a look. Cecil gestured for her to speak to the Council.
"My lords and ladies, I am appalled," Rosa said clearly. "You squabble among yourselves like children over the last cherry tart. We are not speaking of construction that can be put off, or of improvements that are beneficial but unnecessary. We are speaking of lives. It is true that none of you need fear an empty belly this winter, but not everyone in the land is so fortunate. If it were your own households that were threatened by failed crops, you would be here clamoring for aid as fast as your chocobos could carry you. No, Lord Nerthic, we will not levy conditions on the aid we give. Lord Tyrell, your request is granted. Lord Eltrin, you will disburse the requisite funds immediately."
"If you were just going to ignore our advice, why bother asking in the first place?" Lord Marek demanded. "Are you so caught up in your power that it amuses you to see how those you count beneath you twist in the wind? Or is it only that you wish to drive those who disagree with you into doing so openly?"
"If you fancied your disagreements were subtle, Alan, then you have a great deal to learn," Lady Farrell said tartly.
"We have made our decision," Cecil said over the cacophony of murmuring that sprang up. "And no, Lord Marek, it was not out of some warped sense of power or a desire to identify dissenters. We do not discourage you from debate or dissent. Rather, I wished to know if there were legitimate concerns that could be raised against this proposal. You have given your best efforts." His tone implied that he considered their best efforts worth little in this case. "We have heard your arguments, and we have made our decision. Now, there was to be other business before the Council this morning. Lord Demetrick, have you the report on Fabul?"
The meeting continued, but Kain had the uneasy feeling that this was not the last they would hear of the matter of Cecil's propensity for giving aid.
Rating: R (overall), G (this chapter)
Warnings: Spoilers. Violence and language. Occasional sexual content.
Notes: This fic belongs to the Lucis Ante Terminum arc. Chapter list is here.
Summary: Though it is possible to return home, it is rarely possible to return affairs to their previous state. Sometimes the only course of action is to move forward.
Wordcount: 2300 this chapter.
Beta:
celelorielKain preceded Cecil and Rosa into the throne room, and took up his usual stance at Cecil's left hand. Twice a month, Cecil opened his audience chamber to anyone in Baron who wished to bring a grievance before the King, and today was one such audience day. Few of the nobles had bothered to attend, although House Darmin and House Nerthic had both sent representatives, as they always did. On this particular day, Lord Darmin himself was in attendance, as well as Lord Nerthic's heir, Bryant. Cecil waited until the Secretary of the Presence had settled himself before nodding to the Dragoons on guard at the double doors to let the first petitioner through.
The first few petitions were nothing out of the ordinary, the usual small disputes over land and grazing rights. One young woman petitioned to have her arranged betrothal dissolved, citing love for a young man of lesser station. Cecil and Rosa were swift to agree, much to the frustration of the young woman's father.
The final petitioner of the day entered the hall slowly, leaning heavily on a carved wooden cane. He was an older man, well-dressed in clothes of good quality, and held himself firmly upright as he progressed down the long aisle to the dais. Something about him was naggingly familiar to Kain, but he could not place the resemblance. He was accompanied by a thin, nervous-looking man of middle age who bore a strong resemblance to him.
"Lord Tyrell," Cecil said, and inclined his head. "It is a pleasure to see you again. How may we assist you?"
The name jogged Kain's memory. He dimly recalled Malcolm Tyrell visiting Baron City twice during his youth, to attend the conclave that was held every seven years, at which all the nobles discussed matters of trade and changes to the law, and presented their conclusions to the King more formally than at regular council meetings. His memory of this particular lord was a quiet man, who thoroughly considered his words. Lord Tyrell’s lands, during his journey around Baron, had been the best tended, and Kain could not remember seeing the man in Baron anytime other than at the conclaves.
Lord Tyrell carefully lowered himself to one knee in obeisance. "Your Majesty, thank you for receiving me."
Behind his helmet, Kain raised an eyebrow. The next Council meeting was in two days; he would have expected a member of the nobility to present any issues or cases there. Most of them considered themselves too important to come to a "commoners' session."
"We are pleased to see you back in the capital," Rosa said. "What brings you here?"
Lord Tyrell rose with some difficulty and leaned on his cane. "I regret that I must beg Your Majesties' aid," he said, and his reluctance was so great that it seemed he had difficulty speaking the words at all. Kain wondered if it was pride or dislike of Cecil that stifled the Lord's tongue.
"Our aid?" Cecil leaned forward, all curiosity. "What is it that you need?"
"My need requires a short explanation, if Your Majesty would be so kind as to indulge me."
Cecil made a sweeping gesture. "By all means, Lord Tyrell."
"Twenty-five years ago, I undertook a project to restore the roads in my territory. We are subject to rather severe winter storms in the west, and the construction techniques used in the rest of Baron are rarely of use to us, for the roads built in such manner tend to need to be rebuilt every few years or so. I hired engineers from Fabul and had them design a better form, one that would last longer. The materials for construction were expensive, and the project took about five years to complete."
"Were you not reimbursed?" Cecil asked. "I was under the impression that King Peter and King Odin, may their souls rest in peace, had a policy of reimbursing the lords for improvements undertaken in their domains."
"King Odin did generously offer me some reimbursement, Your Majesty, but I took only the amount that would have been offered to another lord using more traditional methods. Baron's treasury could not support such largesse for what was truly an individualized problem, and I paid the remaining costs out of my own treasury."
Cecil frowned. Kain suppressed a sigh. He could already foresee the battle that would ensue with Lord Eltrin, and it bode ill.
"I have always levied a minimum personal tax on my tenants. Your Majesty may confirm this in the income records; my family lives simply, and we thought that time would allow us to refill our coffers at a reasonable rate. However, there have been very bad storms this harvest season, and our farmers have not enough even to see themselves through the winter, never mind to sell. I can make up a portion of the shortfall myself, but it would leave me without any reserves for the future. Thus do I come in search of aid." Lord Tyrell bowed his head, seeming to gaze at the hands that were clenched tight on his cane.
The nervous-looking man next to him, whom Kain presumed to be his heir, cleared his throat. "Your Majesty, we have brought our records of taxes, expenditures, and improvements for the last fifty years," he said nervously. "I-I think that you will find we are not careless with our tenants, nor with our funds." He was clutching a thick record book, and wobbling under the weight of a satchel that seemed to contain several more.
Cecil nodded to one of the guards by the door. "Have someone take these records to my office; I will review them this afternoon."
"Yes, Your Majesty." The guard saluted and approached to take the books.
"In the meantime," Cecil continued, "have you quarters in the city, Lord Tyrell?"
"We maintain a small house here, yes," Lord Tyrell answered.
"Excellent," Cecil said. "The Council meets in two days' time; I will present my formal decision to them at that time, and I would appreciate your presence there. However, I will tell you that unless I find something very untoward in your records, I will grant you an amount equal to the difference between what you spent on your roads, and what you were reimbursed, with some additional to aid in this shortfallen season."
Both of the men before them looked utterly astonished at this display of largesse. "Your Majesty," Lord Tyrell said hesitantly, "please do not think for a moment that I lack gratitude for your generosity. In fact the truth is that I never expected so much for my lands. But I would not see Baron's ability to fund or defend herself depleted on my behalf. We have gotten along well enough until now, and I daresay that with a little help we can continue to do so. This much . . . it is not needful, Your Majesty."
Kain could guess Cecil's response before it was spoken, and he amused himself by reciting the words in his head as the King spoke them. "It is always needful for Baron to reward her citizens for hard work and efforts to better her, Lord Tyrell. I have received reports of the conditions in your holdings, and without exception they have been excellent. I receive few if any complaints from your tenants, and on his recent tour of the western lands, Kain reported that yours were by far the best-maintained. You deserve some recompense for all the effort you have put into your lands."
Lord Tyrell seemed to draw himself up even straighter, a thing Kain might have dismissed as impossibility a few moments before. "Your Majesty's compliments are gratefully received," he said, "but I do not do these things for accolades."
"And that is why we will give them to you, and more than you asked for," Rosa interjected. "We will see you at the Council two days hence, Lord Tyrell."
Lord Tyrell bowed politely, as did his companion, and took the implicit dismissal. They proceeded slowly out of the room, and the guards closed the doors behind them.
"Your Majesty," one of the Dragoons said, "that was the last of the petitioners."
"Thank you," Cecil said. "The audience is closed."
At the formal words, the attendant noblemen made their obeisance, then gathered their belongings and departed the room. The door scraped closed behind them, and Cecil sighed.
"Well," Kain said. "This ought to liven up the Council meeting."
"Do you truly think they would object?" Rosa asked. "It is the right thing to do. He has done well by his tenants."
"Yes, it is the right thing to do," Kain said. "It is even a politically sound thing to do, ensuring Lord Tyrell's loyalty for years to come. Yet on the other hand, some will complain that they are not receiving handouts, so why should he?"
"Then they should take it as an object lesson that those who work for the betterment of Baron will receive due reward," Cecil said. "Come, Kain. I would have you help me review these records."
"As Your Majesty commands," Kain replied, and accompanied his friend from the room.
~*~
Kain, had he been asked his opinion, would have likened the awful stillness in the Council Chamber to the tense silence before a storm tore open the sky.
He had little doubt that news of Lord Tyrell's request had spread through the nobility like one of Rydia's Firaga spells cut through a group of flans. Most of the Council members were either glaring at Lord Tyrell, where he had taken the seat held open for his House at the end of the table, or glaring in Cecil's direction. Lord Eltrin looked particularly sour-faced this morning, but then again he wailed and gnashed his teeth any time there was discussion of removing any money from the Treasury.
Cecil called the meeting to order, and the silence that reigned was more indicative than anything else of the Council's mood. Normally the room erupted into activity as soon as the meeting was opened, but today no one seemed willing to take that first step.
"The first order of business before the Council will be the predicament of Lord Malcolm Tyrell," Cecil said, after allowing the silence to spin out another few moments. "Lord Tyrell, if you would be so kind as to summarize your situation for the Council?"
Kain shifted his attention from the spoken words to scanning the Councillors' faces for their reactions, knowing that Cecil and Rosa were doing the same. The Councillors weren't bad people, and for the most part managed their lands and people well. However, they fought tooth and nail against any of their number receiving any advantage not also granted to the remainder, and therein lay the problem.
Lord Tyrell finished his explanation. Cecil thanked him and waited for him to be seated again. "So, the Council has heard of the situation in Lord Tyrell's lands. We are inclined to grant his request, and would hear your arguments both in favour and against."
No one spoke, a fact that rather surprised Kain. He had expected someone--Lord Vyran, perhaps, or Lord Marek--to raise a dissenting voice, but perhaps they feared chastisement by their king. Not, he admitted to himself, that such considerations had ever stopped them before.
"Your Majesty," Lord Eltrin said at last, "it is not that I doubt Lord Tyrell's plight. Please do not mistake my cautions for a lack of consideration for his people. Yet if harvests were bad in his lands, they may have been equally bad for others, who have not come to us requesting money. Moreover, if others do request aid from us later, will the Treasury support it? These considerations must be addressed before making a decision."
"It is true that Lord Tyrell knowingly spent more than the Crown would reimburse on his road-building projects and others he has undertaken over the years," Lord Savarin pointed out. "What is to say that this is not some underhanded means of gaining reimbursement?"
"Oh for heavens' sake, Peter," Emily Farrell snapped. "Just because you refuse to spend one copper piece more than you must on your lands does not mean that the rest of us must be similarly constrained. In fact, I would move that we appoint a committee to review the reimbursement guidelines. In Odin's day, may he rest in peace, the Treasury was somewhat leaner than it is now. Surely we can afford to invest in our future?"
Lord Eltrin winced at the idea of more money flowing from the royal coffers, but surprisingly raised no argument.
"Lady Farrell raises a valid point," Lord Demetrick said, though his expression indicated that he was less than comfortable with it. "I cannot see where Malcolm has done anything wrong. It is true that we must all prepare and save against shortfallen season, but I know for a fact that House Tyrell lives leanly."
"I know that you typically prefer not to levy taxes, Lord Tyrell, but perhaps you must consider raising the amount you require from your tenants," Lord Nerthic suggested. "Would Your Majesty consent to make that a condition of the aid rendered, to guard against any such underhanded notions in the future?" He cut a stern look in Lord Savarin's direction, and the latter looked away.
Rosa and Cecil shared a look. Cecil gestured for her to speak to the Council.
"My lords and ladies, I am appalled," Rosa said clearly. "You squabble among yourselves like children over the last cherry tart. We are not speaking of construction that can be put off, or of improvements that are beneficial but unnecessary. We are speaking of lives. It is true that none of you need fear an empty belly this winter, but not everyone in the land is so fortunate. If it were your own households that were threatened by failed crops, you would be here clamoring for aid as fast as your chocobos could carry you. No, Lord Nerthic, we will not levy conditions on the aid we give. Lord Tyrell, your request is granted. Lord Eltrin, you will disburse the requisite funds immediately."
"If you were just going to ignore our advice, why bother asking in the first place?" Lord Marek demanded. "Are you so caught up in your power that it amuses you to see how those you count beneath you twist in the wind? Or is it only that you wish to drive those who disagree with you into doing so openly?"
"If you fancied your disagreements were subtle, Alan, then you have a great deal to learn," Lady Farrell said tartly.
"We have made our decision," Cecil said over the cacophony of murmuring that sprang up. "And no, Lord Marek, it was not out of some warped sense of power or a desire to identify dissenters. We do not discourage you from debate or dissent. Rather, I wished to know if there were legitimate concerns that could be raised against this proposal. You have given your best efforts." His tone implied that he considered their best efforts worth little in this case. "We have heard your arguments, and we have made our decision. Now, there was to be other business before the Council this morning. Lord Demetrick, have you the report on Fabul?"
The meeting continued, but Kain had the uneasy feeling that this was not the last they would hear of the matter of Cecil's propensity for giving aid.