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feredarStory: Ultimatum
Year: 979 FY
Characters: Kellom, Sorell
Warnings: Forced marriage
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
Sorell looked up. Kellom stood stiff in the doorway, face closed as it always was. "Yes. Shut the door."
Kellom quietly stepped in and did as he was told, but remained standing. Sorell studied him silently for a moment. His eldest son, his pride--not that he had a favorite child, of course, he would kill anyone who dared to suggest he loved one of his children any more than any of the others--his heir. The flower of his nation, someone had called him, and he was handsome, and charming, but steel and ice, rather than warmth and living things.
Finally, he spoke. "You're nearing thirty, Kellom."
"Sir." Kellom looked slightly weary and uncomfortable, as if he could guess where this conversation was going, but he remained still, and erect, ever the perfect soldier.
"I understand that you felt your military service was more important--and it has been invaluable. But you have a duty to continue the line, as well."
"I acknowledge that, sir."
"Then why do you keep delaying?"
Kellom broke his gaze. "It's not a matter of delaying, sir. Nothing so deliberate."
"By the time I was your age, I had five children."
"Yes, sir." Kellom met his eyes again. "But you have Mother. I have not been so fortunate."
Was that it? The entire problem, that he and Nida had set the bar too high for Kellom? Sorell knew that he and his wife were abnormally close for a royal couple--even those who had managed to produce as many or more children were rarely genuinely in love. Absently, he twisted his wedding ring. "You haven't even tried to look, Kellom."
"As you said before, sir, I found my other duties more pressing."
"I'm not saying they aren't important--the military service or your political participation. But you can't rely on your siblings and their children forever. Things are always more stable if the throne passes directly from father to son."
"Yes, sir."
Persuasion clearly wasn't working, so Sorell gave in and opened the drawer. "I've prepared a list of candidates." He removed and handed Kellom a scroll. His son took it with obvious reluctance. "I want you to meet with them, try to get to know them, see if any strike your fancy."
"Yes, sir."
"And, Kellom?"
"Yes, sir?"
"I want you to give me a name by the end of the year."
"Yes, sir."
He waved a hand, dismissing his son, and watched him go, then sank into his chair and rubbed at his temples. He'd never dreamed his own happiness would be such a challenge to his children. With any luck, Kellom would find his own Nida, somewhere on that list. Sorell took a moment to privately wish his son the best of luck, then turned to the stack of papers his secretary had delivered for his review, trying to put it out of his mind.
Year: 979 FY
Characters: Kellom, Sorell
Warnings: Forced marriage
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
Sorell looked up. Kellom stood stiff in the doorway, face closed as it always was. "Yes. Shut the door."
Kellom quietly stepped in and did as he was told, but remained standing. Sorell studied him silently for a moment. His eldest son, his pride--not that he had a favorite child, of course, he would kill anyone who dared to suggest he loved one of his children any more than any of the others--his heir. The flower of his nation, someone had called him, and he was handsome, and charming, but steel and ice, rather than warmth and living things.
Finally, he spoke. "You're nearing thirty, Kellom."
"Sir." Kellom looked slightly weary and uncomfortable, as if he could guess where this conversation was going, but he remained still, and erect, ever the perfect soldier.
"I understand that you felt your military service was more important--and it has been invaluable. But you have a duty to continue the line, as well."
"I acknowledge that, sir."
"Then why do you keep delaying?"
Kellom broke his gaze. "It's not a matter of delaying, sir. Nothing so deliberate."
"By the time I was your age, I had five children."
"Yes, sir." Kellom met his eyes again. "But you have Mother. I have not been so fortunate."
Was that it? The entire problem, that he and Nida had set the bar too high for Kellom? Sorell knew that he and his wife were abnormally close for a royal couple--even those who had managed to produce as many or more children were rarely genuinely in love. Absently, he twisted his wedding ring. "You haven't even tried to look, Kellom."
"As you said before, sir, I found my other duties more pressing."
"I'm not saying they aren't important--the military service or your political participation. But you can't rely on your siblings and their children forever. Things are always more stable if the throne passes directly from father to son."
"Yes, sir."
Persuasion clearly wasn't working, so Sorell gave in and opened the drawer. "I've prepared a list of candidates." He removed and handed Kellom a scroll. His son took it with obvious reluctance. "I want you to meet with them, try to get to know them, see if any strike your fancy."
"Yes, sir."
"And, Kellom?"
"Yes, sir?"
"I want you to give me a name by the end of the year."
"Yes, sir."
He waved a hand, dismissing his son, and watched him go, then sank into his chair and rubbed at his temples. He'd never dreamed his own happiness would be such a challenge to his children. With any luck, Kellom would find his own Nida, somewhere on that list. Sorell took a moment to privately wish his son the best of luck, then turned to the stack of papers his secretary had delivered for his review, trying to put it out of his mind.