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17 August 2009 @ 02:50 pm
Reflected From Within - Post Chalion Fanfic.  

Title: Reflected From Within
Fandom: Curse of Chalion (Post)
Prompt:
Cazaril, Post - 'Curse of Chalion, "see ourselves as others see us"
Author:
solochan
Word count: 1,483 words
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Now, this is my first ever Chalion fic! I hope you all enjoy it and that I got each character's personality across, I really enjoyed writing this, and this was the first thing I thought of when I saw the prompt please let me know, and I'm so glad to be apart of the community ^___^ 

***

His ladies were waiting, again.

Despite this fact, Chancellor Dy Cazaril was indeed running late; going through his room and eagerly scrawling on parchment excitable news that even he could not truly express fully into words. He sealed the parchments with blue wax and into envelopes to pass onto the nearest courier he could find; whilst on his escapade out into the courtyard to finally find his ladies and let himself relax for the first time in days.
 

It was like today was the day that Cazaril could finally see exactly what life was leading up to. More life, it seemed.
 

And all that death and despair had to lead to something in these years of war and chaos that may now have finally come to rest, the man thought as he headed down flights of stairs with a spring to his step that no one had seemed to be able to remove from the Chancellor. ‘By the Daughter I do pray that this is so, I’ve had enough death to last me three lifetimes…’
 

He reached the courtyard where as luck would have it he found a courier and went about handing over papers and demanding with a gentle smile that they were to be sent swiftly; to alert the Provincara, Lady Ista and the March Dy Palliar of his wonderful news. Then, whilst watching the courier speed off on the nearest stallion the man could find, he too continued to move through the courtyard to get to where maids and servants were running back and forth with water and fresh linen. He had not been allowed to be inside for the actual event, and therefore, the reason why he was not outside the moment it had occurred.

Not that he hadn’t been trying all this time.

’Relax Caz!’ Bergon had told him barely hours ago now, the young King impatient himself, as he and Iselle were awaiting something similar in a few months time. ‘They know what they’re doing’ he reassured in a cool calm voice that seemed far too mature for his age. Though Cazaril had been pulling at an amount of greying hair that had not seemed healthy even for him.

Despite the fact Caz full well knew that for hundreds of years the Daughter and the Mother had made sure that births succeeded so as to continue human life - it still made the man queasy to his stomach in a mild unease, which was balanced by his extreme joy and excitement of what was about to occur, what was about to change everything that he knew in his life for the better.

However, he was arriving now to finally be rid of the worry, the large oak door was open, and inside there was a small noise that Cazaril thought he hadn’t heard for years. Not since, he thought mildly, the terrible days of war and mothers carrying their children through the streets wrapped in cloth.
 

He had never thought in his wildest dreams that he would ever get to call a child his own.
 

Inside the bombshell that he could barely call a bedchamber considering it’s size was five women, one of which in a bed of fine straw and covered in cloths. Among the women around her bed were two servants that Cazaril didn’t recognize but among the three that he did, was Lady Dy Vrit: who had been the one to order the Chancellor out of the room in the first place, and was once the noble matron of both his wife and the Queen. Next to her, holding a bundle in her arms was flushed looking Queen Iselle, who looked up at Cazaril the moment he had stepped into the room with warm eyes that glanced in his direction, seemingly wanting to speak but keeping her tongue guarded. 

 Then of course, in the bed herself was a very tired and weary woman, her dark hair in ringlets past her flushed cheeks, but smiling all the while her eyes seemed to beckon her to rest. It was Betriz: His Betriz. Of whom, he had not even said a word before his name was being called.

’Lupe?’

Cazaril smiled a little at this, as it had only been in the last year of their marriage had he felt comfortable with her to refer to him as Lupe in public, despite the growing affections and closeness they had felt during their terms as handmaiden and secretary; At the name Cazaril caught Iselle and Dy Vrit stifle a laugh and say nothing and he sat down on the other side of the bed taking his wife clammy hands in his.

’You have done brilliantly, Betriz’ he said, he hadn’t even looked at his son yet, too concerned with his wife’s well being. ‘Get some rest…’

Betriz smiled at him, calmly, as if his presence had boosted some stamina in her fatigued body. ‘You’re a father’ she responded, ‘I don’t believe we’ll have the time for rest ever again…’

At this, Cazaril was suddenly passed the bundle without question, Iselle having to stand to pass it to him, and Cazaril couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be until he would be comforting Bergon as she revealed with this action her swollen belly, sticking out in front of her and hidden as best as possibly by a loose green dress.
 

The boy was suddenly in his arms and that stopped this new line of thought to make everything in his head calm and stop, so as to only think on what he was seeing right there and then. Presently, in his own arms lay a child, his baby boy of which he and Betriz had created together. The newborn was tiny, with dark tufts of hair poking at the top of his head just like his, whilst he bore blue eyes that stared back at his father with indignation. The babe had Betriz’s firm brow and nose, but the man recognized his own mouth that almost curled momentarily before giving another calling to the Gods for more air. 

‘Cazaril?’ asked Iselle, and it was only then that Cazaril realized he hadn’t spoken for a large number of minutes and everyone in the room had been staring at him, and he also realized, that his cheeks were wet with tears. 

Betriz put her hand onto Cazaril’s arm, wanting to know what the matter was, but suddenly, the man was laughing, holding the whinging bundle before looking to Betriz calmly.

’I see…us in our boy, Betriz’ he said at last, and then suddenly, as if the world had risen from the dead the man was laughing with such glee that he thought he would never be able to laugh so again; looking back to the baby that seemed stunned at this odd behaviour and stared up at him again incredulously. The laughter was contagious, Betriz laughed with mingled admiration for her husband and obvious relief that his reaction was pleasant, whilst Iselle laughed with joy, as did the old matron.

It was clear to Cazaril in those few moments, that he finally felt like the man that everyone else had seen all this time was finally a part of him to be seeing freely, even to himself. Betriz had not fallen in love with a weak and bitter fool as he had always thought, and Iselle had not trusted such a man either. In these few seconds of pure happiness he could see, in the eyes of his son this strange happy man looking back at him, and it was that, amongst the thought of finally being a father that had startled him into tears.
 

They all finally wiped away at their teary cheeks and Iselle cleared her throat to ask what she was meaning to ask all the way through this little union of the small family. 
 
‘Have you chosen a name?’ she asked and Betriz beamed to which Caz wiped his wet eyes with a free hand passing his son back to his wife of whom cradled the baby and sent him into a calming silence.

’Luc.’ She settled on at last, a short moment as if to confirm this with her husband, ‘Luc Dy Cazaril.’ And Betriz smiled. ’Little Luc…’ and with that she raised an eye to look at her husband again who smiled widely at her.

’Anything,’ he assured, ‘But Lupe was fine with me’ and after a few moments of pleasant discussion Cazaril finally lost the track of thought, as the three women spoke of outfits and how their children would respond together the elder man was lost in memories and thoughts of his own. Past, present and future of this boy, and his family and he couldn’t help but smile. What else, the Chancellor thought, could a man of his position, and background possibly want but this?

Nothing. He decided. Nothing at all..

FIN~

.

 
 
 
Pete Granzeaupgranzeau on August 17th, 2009 03:57 pm (UTC)
I like it. One comment only: should not one letter be addressed to Betriz's father?
Sophiesolochan on August 17th, 2009 03:59 pm (UTC)
Probably, I think at the time I was thinking that Betriz would write him a personal letter of her own sent seperately and I never wrote it in -_-

Thank you though! I'm glad you like it!
shimotsuki: chalionshimotsuki on August 18th, 2009 04:48 am (UTC)
Congratulations on your first Chalion fic!

What a great idea for a story -- that the birth of his child would give Cazaril a more balanced sense of perspective. The range of emotions he goes through seems very real, too, on such a momentous day.

The characterization of Betriz is nice, too, with her gentle teasing humor.

(One very small point...this scene might feel even more true to canon if you used the Chalion terms 'roya'/'royina' instead of 'king' and 'queen'. And technically, Bergon is only 'royse consort' in Chalion, although he'll be the roya of Ibra when his father dies.)

I hope you'll write more! The world needs more Chalion fic. :)
Sophiesolochan on August 18th, 2009 09:04 am (UTC)
Thank you very much for the comments, and this is true about the chalion terms. I'm afraid I was writing this not very long after writing about medievil times (King Arthur and the like) and had forgotton to switch the terms >.>

I'm really glad you liked it! I was really trying to get Cazaril's emotions down more than anyones elses because the character seems so real to me! Thank you for the support I hope to write alot more =)