A/N: Well, I told you guys I'd be back soon with another fic. Here it is! I hope you enjoy it and plz R/R!! ^_^
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize, thus you can't sue me......
Summary: At the end of ROTG, Daine becomens famous in every country for her defeat of Ozorne. Most counties take quite an interest in her. Galla in particular wonders what sort of improvements she could bring their country. They learn everything about her, including her past. They learn that she isn't Tortallan, but Gallan. Knowing that she did not leave their country legally, they order King Jonathan to send her back. At first he refuses, but since they have an alliance with many surrounding countries, Jonathan has no choice but to send Daine away, unless he plans to face a war he cannot win. This story is about what happens when Dain must return to Galla, to stay. Find out how she does with the Gallan royalty, specifically a Gallan prince named Aidan. Its D/N all the way and guarenteed to have more fluff than all the rest of my fics.
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Prince Roshaun of Galla stormed quickly out of the King's chambers. His blue gray eyes burned with tears that fought to be freed. He fought them back with all of the strength he could muster. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't give his father that satisfaction. He hated that man with all of his mind, body and soul. If he thought about it long enough, he was sure that a more evil creature had never walked the Earth. " I hate him!" Roshaun muttered under his breath. His voice came out choked and raspy. There were so many things he didn't understand about his father. He couldn't understand why his father had always hated him. Roshaun had never done anything to earn his father's hate. He'd always been good as a child, always one to follow the rules.
Rosh, as he preferred to be called was a young man of sixteen. He was a handsome with boyish features. His eyes were a brilliant blue gray with thick lashes that would look girlish on anyone else. On Rosh however, they looked gallant. His muscles were well defined from many hours of exercise spent out on the palace grounds or in the hills surrounding the palace on horse back. Rosh had shoulder length hair that was a shining raven black color. His chin slanted out in a stubborn way, making him look almost like his mother out of the face. His nose however was very different from hers. It was long and hooked at the end. His skin was much darker than hers as well. None of his features belonged to his father. Rosh often questioned this, but didn't let the subject bother him all that much. His father was ugly in Rosh's opinion and he wouldn't want to look like him in any case.
Pain still seared up and down Rosh's back and abdomen. Every part of his body ached from previous events. He bore a split lip and a small stream of blood leaked from his nose. These things merely stood as proof of his father's hate for him. He'd been summoned into his father's chambers early that morning and had arrived only to find his father in one of his rages. The King had come at him at full force, bringing done a series of wild punches and kicks in any place he could. After a while, his father had grown bored of this form of beating and had gone for his rawhide whip. This is how things always went. The King then proceeded to beat Roshaun until his back was raw and his body bruised. He had then dismissed him in anger, throwing various objects at the boy as he left the room. This was Rosh's life. This is how things always worked. He rarely saw his father, only once or twice a week, but when he did, it always resulted in a beating.
In his life, there was only one thing that Rosh loved, only one thing he could honestly say loved him back. It was his mother, Queen Veralidaine of Galla. She was always there for him, always. She would reassure him when things with his father became tough. She was always there to help him wash out his cuts after seeing his father. She would even throw in words in his defense. Though she never said anything to his father about his beatings, Rosh still knew she wished it would stop. He also knew she couldn't do anything about it. If she were to ever mention anything to his father, she would likely be beaten and thrown into the dungeons for a long period of time. That was one of the many things Roshaun had in common with his mother. They both hated his father and were hated back.
Rosh had always admired his mother. He thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, especially for her age. She was average in height, making her a lot shorter than he himself was. Her hair was long and flowing and was a stunning smoky brown color coiled into many curls. Her eyes matched his own, as they were a brilliant blue gray in color. Her long lashes were thick and looked lovely when they beat against her face every time she blinked. Her complexion was not at all like Rosh's for hers was light as was his father's.
Rosh stopped walking for a moment, for he was tired. His fathers beatings always left him weak, barely able to stand let alone able to storm through the palace. He took in a deep breath and leaned against the wall, breathing out. He felt pain sting in his back when he made contact with the wall. He winced and pulled away from the wall so as not to upset his wound. No matter what he did, pain still seared through his entire body, making anything he tried to do painfully unbearable. He closed his eyes and let his mind travel to pleasant places, places he knew he would never see. Even with his eyes closed, he felt a hot tear roll down his face against his will. He fought back the rest of his tears but it did no good. His face was soon wet with his tears as they streamed freely down his face. He felt shame that he was crying where anyone could see. He was a sixteen year old boy and he shouldn't cry. If his father saw him, he would give him another beating. Rosh knew that if he was going to cry, he'd have to go where his father couldn't hurt him. He'd have to goto his mother's chambers.
As soon as the idea hit Rosh, he immediately broke out in a run to get to his mother's chambers. They were on the far end of the palace in the North tower. It was very secluded there, for she was close to being sent into exile. Very rarely did she see her husband the King for he despised her as she did him. It was all on account of some event that took place before Rosh's birth. He'd asked his mother about it before, but she'd always told him that she would tell him about it when he was old enough. Rosh always hated that answer. He wanted to know what had happened between his parents, and he didn't want to wait. He ran through the halls, eyes blinded by tears, praying he wouldn't run into his father or any of his father's nobles on his way.
The run to the North tower was a painful one. During his fight with his father, Rosh had received a sprained ankle among other things and it hurt to put any weight on it, yet alone run across the palace with it. Despite his pains, he made it in good time and was able to stop to regain his breath. He now stood outside the door of his mother's bed chamber. There was a brass name plate on the door that clearly read ' Queen Veralidaine Sarrasri of Galla.' It was commonly known that the Queen had long ago taken on her maiden name after falling out with the King. Somehow, Rosh always knew that her name, Sarrasri was in some way tied into the event that had broken his parents apart before his birth.
Breathlessly, Rosh lifted the brass knocker on the wooden door of the chamber and knocked on it twice. Inside, he could hear a slight groan and then a scurrying of feet. The door opened a crack and he could see the blue gray eyes of his mother looking out in the hall to see who it was.
"Rosh?" she questioned feebly, her voice shaky. He could see her hands quivering as she clung to the door. Since he was little, Rosh could always remember his mother always being in bad health. Some said it was because of guilt, but Rosh felt it was because she was unhappy. He knew she was married to a man that she hated and that was enough to make anyone lose their health.
" Yes, mother, its me," Rosh replied quietly, trying hard to wipe the tears and pain from his voice. The door was immediately opened all the way, revealing his mother standing in the doorway wearing a blue cotton night dress. Her hair was unkempt, her eyes blotted with tears. This was how he had always known his mother, so it hardly seemed to bother him. Today however, it did bother him. He saw her and his heart broke into pieces. This was one of the many vile deeds his father had done. How he hated that man, if he could even be called a man.
" Come in, Rosh," his mother motioned for him to come forward as she stepped out of the doorway to allow him entrance. Rosh did as he was told, ducking to pull his lanky form into her room. He was unusually tall for his age, making him have to duck to get into most doorways at the Gallan palace. " Sit down," his mother pointed towards the bed. He walked over to the bed in a few short strides and sat on the edge. His mother came and sat next to him, a pitying look on her face. She looked at him in a question, asking what had happened though he was sure she already knew.
Rosh looked away from his mother, refusing to meet her eyes. He didn't want her to see his tears, didn't want to give her any reason to become unhappier. He now felt guilty that he had even come to her with his problems. She had many of her own problems to deal with at the moment and he felt he had been selfish to concern her with his own. He could feel her comforting hand on his shoulder, but he would still not look at her. After a while, she put her other arm around him and pulled him gently into the circle of her arms. He rested his head against her chest, having to duck to do so.
" Rosh, sweet tell me what's wrong," she pleaded with her son. She ran her fingers through his mass of black hair and felt a painful reminder of the love she had lost long ago. She immediately wiped those thoughts from her mind and again turned her attention to her son. He needed her now,and it was selfish of her to be thinking about her own worries and woes.
Rosh could take no more. He suddenly broke out in tears, crying freely into his mother's chest. Tears that had threatened to fall upon entering the room were now rolling wildly down his cheeks. He could feel her draw him close to her, gently running her fingers through his hair. She murmured softly to him, trying her best to make him feel better. Rosh pulled his head up to look at his mother. She looked back at him and their gazes met. He could see the sorrow in her eyes, and it pained him even more. "Its father," he said through his tears, fighting back his sobs. " H-he beat me again, mother."
Rosh saw his mother's eyes change instantly. They now flashed with anger. She'd known well about how her husband, Aidan treated Rosh, and she hated it. No matter how much she disliked it though, she knew there was nothing she could do about it. If she were to speak up, Aidan would have her flogged and sent into exile. It was possible that he would even have her killed. She couldn't risk any of these things for she had to live to raise her son. If she died, she knew Rosh would soon follow her. Aidan had always hated the boy. Since the day of Rosh's birth, the King had hated him. Of course Aidan hadn't been the King in those days, but he had still hated him all the same.
Daine, as she preferred to be called had always loved her son. He was her only reminder of a love she lost a long time ago. It was a love that she would never forget, that she would remember all of her days. It was a love Aidan could never give her and a love she would never have again. The only person she came even close to loving as much as her lost love was her son Rosh, but that was a different love. She loved her son very much, and would give her life for him in an instant.
" I'm so sorry, Rosh, dear," she soothed, still running her fingers through his hair and holding him tight. " I wish there was something I can do, but you and I both know there isn't."
Rosh hated hearing these words. He didn't blame his mother, but sometimes he couldn't help but feel a little angry with her for not even trying. " I hate that man! I hate him!" Rosh yelled, his tears still flowing, but this time of anger. Rosh pounded his fist roughly down onto the bed. He pulled suddenly out of his mother's embrace and got to his feet. He began pacing, trying desperately to contain his anger.
Daine wasn't sure how she could help her son. She couldn't go to Aidan about it, she couldn't go to him about anything. She could tell Rosh the truth about his father and then maybe he would understand. What if he hated her for not telling him sooner though? Daine couldn't stand it if the only person she loved hated her. -Yes, but you owe it to him to tell him and he's old enough now- she contradicted herself. Daine shook her head in confusion. Perhaps now was the time she told him. He was, after all, sixteen years old now and a young man. He wasn't a child anymore, so perhaps he could handle it. At this last thought, Daine knew what her decision was. Besides, it was likely the retelling her story to Rosh would help her to get over it all. Yes, she would tell him now.
" Would it help if I told you that Aidan isn't your father?" Daine asked her son almost fearfully. She felt even more nervous when he stopped his pacing and jerked his head around to face her.
Rosh stared at his mother in shock. Had he heard her correctly? He could have sworn she had just told him that Aidan wasn't his father! No, he must be hallucinating. Either that or he was just hoping. Nothing could chance the fact that that evil man was his father. Then a horrifying and also pleasing thought struck Rosh. What if Aidan was never his father to begin with? What if this was the true reason that Aidan despised Rosh so. Now that she had brought this up, Rosh refused to let the subject drop.
" What do you mean?!" he asked anxiously. His eyes were wide in apprehension. It seemed to Rosh that his mother was taking an eternity to answer. The whole time he simply stared at her, not moving an inch. His feet were glued to the floor and he suspected that he couldn't move them if he tried. After a while, Rosh got tired of waiting for an answer. " What do you mean, mother?!" he almost yelled.
Daine looked at him with tear filled eyes and then couldn't bear to look in his eyes any longer. Just looking at him brought back memories. She looked persistently at the floor as if waiting for it to give her answers. When found none, she answered Rosh. " I mean exactly what I said, Rosh. King Aidan of Jerkins Galla is not your father."
Rosh could hardly believe what he was hearing. He wasn't sure if he should jump for joy or if he should yell of fright. All of this was so foreign to him. Though he'd always questioned why he looked nothing like Aidan, he'd never questioned that Aidan was his father. It had always been a common fact to him, whether he liked it or not.
All sorts of new thoughts and ideas and questions were running through Rosh's head. Who was his father? Was his true father a lover of his mother? Did Aidan know about it? Rosh didn't know what to say or ask. He didn't even know if he should speak. He felt like singing with joy for he now knew he was not related to the beast that was the King of Galla. With his joy though, came questions and possibly fear. He wanted to know everything about his father. He wanted to know what he looked like, if he was nice, and if Rosh had ever met him before and just not known who it was.
Rosh finally decided what to ask his mother first, though it was a tough choice. "If Aidan isn't my father, then who is?" he asked quietly. Rosh was surprised at his own self control and his sense of calmness.
Daine took in a deep breath and closed her eyes before answering. She'd known since the day of Rosh's birth that this day would come when he would ask her these questions, but she'd also known that she wasn't ever going to be ready for it. " You're father's name was Numair Salmalin," Daine said quietly. Just saying the name made her lose all control and cry. Tears flowed down her face freely.
Rosh saw that his mother was weeping and he immediately joined her on her bed again. He took her in his arms and did his best to comfort her. He thought over the name she had given him, claiming it was that of his true father. Rosh had met many of the nobles at court, being that he was the prince, but he'd never heard of such a man before. As he held his mother tightly to his chest, he continued to think, still no answer coming to him. Finally, after several minutes of thought, Rosh thought he could recall hearing of such a man. He'd read it in one of the many books of the Royal Library. He couldn't remember anything he'd read though. " Why do you cry, mother?" Rosh asked quietly, stroking her cheek gently with his hand. " Have I hurt you?"
When Daine looked at Rosh, she was constantly reminded of Numair and it hurt. Anything that she could connect with him caused her deep pain. She knew that today, in just a few moments, she would have to tell her story, the story of Numair Salmalin to her son. He deserved to know, and she would keep it from him no longer. She feared having to tell it, for she'd spent the past sixteen years trying to forget it. " No," Daine replied to her son, trying hard to stop the tears from flowing. " No, its not you. Its just the first time I've talked about all of this to anyone since you were born."
" You said his name was Numair Salmalin. What did you mean by was?" Rosh asked, hoping that this too wouldn't make her cry.
" He died before you were born," Daine did her best to hold back her tears, but found it impossible. She was reliving a time in her life that she'd spent many years trying to forget. She'd missed him so much and she'd never stopped missing him.
" My father is dead?" Rosh said stunned. He didn't know what to think. He'd almost been hoping he would get to meet his true father, perhaps get to know him. It was hard to believe he was dead.
" Yes," Daine replied. She uttered a loud sob and threw her head into her hands. She felt her son ease his hands gently over hers and holding them tight. He reminded her so much of Numair. His looks, his voice, his personality. It was as if someone had made a copy of Numair.
" Did you love him?" Rosh asked his mother, assuming that it must be the reason she was so upset.
" I loved him with all of my heart," Daine said through her tears. Rosh could sense longing in his mother's voice. " I always have and I always will. We loved each other so much and yet we were taken from each other."
Rosh didn't know what to say. Within the last half hour, he'd learned things that changed everything he'd grown up believing. He wanted to comfort his mother, but he didn't know how. He'd never fallen in love before, or even courted a young woman for that matter. He didn't know what it felt like to have your heart broken or what it felt like to be separated from a lover. From what he could see, it was the worst pain imaginable. It looked more painful even than the searing pain he was feeling now from his father's beating. -He's not my father- Rosh reminded himself quickly. It would take some getting used to, Aidan not being his real father. A lot of things had changed today for him. Even his name had changed. He was no longer Prince Roshaun of Jerkins, Galla, son of King Aidan of Jerkins, Galla. He was now simply Roshaun Salmalin, son of Numair Salmalin who he knew nothing about. The man could have been a commoner for all Rosh knew. -But I've read the name some where before- Rosh thought to himself. If he'd read the name, then chances are he was no commoner.
" Mother?" Rosh asked, gently pulling his mother out of his arms so that he could look her in the eye. He met her gaze and continued. " I know that you're upset right now, but I need to know. I need to know about this Numair Salmalin you say is my father. I want to know everything about him, everything."
Daine had known this was coming. She'd dreaded it, but she'd known it would come. In many ways, her heart screamed at her to stay silent and not bother telling Rosh about Numair. She didn't want to. It would bring back so many painful memories. There was also a voice in her head that told her that Rosh was ready to know and that she owed it to him. It wouldn't be fair if she told him about his father, but didn't also tell him the story behind it. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and prepared herself for the longest, hardest story of her life. " I understand," she said simply, refusing to meet his gaze. " I owe you an explanation, Rosh and I have every intention of giving it to you. Though it truly started about twenty-four years ago when I first met Numair, the part that truly means anything to you started about twenty years ago when I was your age."
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A/N: Ok, this was only a prologue. Its kinda confusing though cuz I'm having this story start from the end. All the chapters after this except for the last few which will come a LONG time from now will be in the past for Daine. They will take place right after ROTG.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize, thus you can't sue me......
Summary: At the end of ROTG, Daine becomens famous in every country for her defeat of Ozorne. Most counties take quite an interest in her. Galla in particular wonders what sort of improvements she could bring their country. They learn everything about her, including her past. They learn that she isn't Tortallan, but Gallan. Knowing that she did not leave their country legally, they order King Jonathan to send her back. At first he refuses, but since they have an alliance with many surrounding countries, Jonathan has no choice but to send Daine away, unless he plans to face a war he cannot win. This story is about what happens when Dain must return to Galla, to stay. Find out how she does with the Gallan royalty, specifically a Gallan prince named Aidan. Its D/N all the way and guarenteed to have more fluff than all the rest of my fics.
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Prince Roshaun of Galla stormed quickly out of the King's chambers. His blue gray eyes burned with tears that fought to be freed. He fought them back with all of the strength he could muster. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't give his father that satisfaction. He hated that man with all of his mind, body and soul. If he thought about it long enough, he was sure that a more evil creature had never walked the Earth. " I hate him!" Roshaun muttered under his breath. His voice came out choked and raspy. There were so many things he didn't understand about his father. He couldn't understand why his father had always hated him. Roshaun had never done anything to earn his father's hate. He'd always been good as a child, always one to follow the rules.
Rosh, as he preferred to be called was a young man of sixteen. He was a handsome with boyish features. His eyes were a brilliant blue gray with thick lashes that would look girlish on anyone else. On Rosh however, they looked gallant. His muscles were well defined from many hours of exercise spent out on the palace grounds or in the hills surrounding the palace on horse back. Rosh had shoulder length hair that was a shining raven black color. His chin slanted out in a stubborn way, making him look almost like his mother out of the face. His nose however was very different from hers. It was long and hooked at the end. His skin was much darker than hers as well. None of his features belonged to his father. Rosh often questioned this, but didn't let the subject bother him all that much. His father was ugly in Rosh's opinion and he wouldn't want to look like him in any case.
Pain still seared up and down Rosh's back and abdomen. Every part of his body ached from previous events. He bore a split lip and a small stream of blood leaked from his nose. These things merely stood as proof of his father's hate for him. He'd been summoned into his father's chambers early that morning and had arrived only to find his father in one of his rages. The King had come at him at full force, bringing done a series of wild punches and kicks in any place he could. After a while, his father had grown bored of this form of beating and had gone for his rawhide whip. This is how things always went. The King then proceeded to beat Roshaun until his back was raw and his body bruised. He had then dismissed him in anger, throwing various objects at the boy as he left the room. This was Rosh's life. This is how things always worked. He rarely saw his father, only once or twice a week, but when he did, it always resulted in a beating.
In his life, there was only one thing that Rosh loved, only one thing he could honestly say loved him back. It was his mother, Queen Veralidaine of Galla. She was always there for him, always. She would reassure him when things with his father became tough. She was always there to help him wash out his cuts after seeing his father. She would even throw in words in his defense. Though she never said anything to his father about his beatings, Rosh still knew she wished it would stop. He also knew she couldn't do anything about it. If she were to ever mention anything to his father, she would likely be beaten and thrown into the dungeons for a long period of time. That was one of the many things Roshaun had in common with his mother. They both hated his father and were hated back.
Rosh had always admired his mother. He thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, especially for her age. She was average in height, making her a lot shorter than he himself was. Her hair was long and flowing and was a stunning smoky brown color coiled into many curls. Her eyes matched his own, as they were a brilliant blue gray in color. Her long lashes were thick and looked lovely when they beat against her face every time she blinked. Her complexion was not at all like Rosh's for hers was light as was his father's.
Rosh stopped walking for a moment, for he was tired. His fathers beatings always left him weak, barely able to stand let alone able to storm through the palace. He took in a deep breath and leaned against the wall, breathing out. He felt pain sting in his back when he made contact with the wall. He winced and pulled away from the wall so as not to upset his wound. No matter what he did, pain still seared through his entire body, making anything he tried to do painfully unbearable. He closed his eyes and let his mind travel to pleasant places, places he knew he would never see. Even with his eyes closed, he felt a hot tear roll down his face against his will. He fought back the rest of his tears but it did no good. His face was soon wet with his tears as they streamed freely down his face. He felt shame that he was crying where anyone could see. He was a sixteen year old boy and he shouldn't cry. If his father saw him, he would give him another beating. Rosh knew that if he was going to cry, he'd have to go where his father couldn't hurt him. He'd have to goto his mother's chambers.
As soon as the idea hit Rosh, he immediately broke out in a run to get to his mother's chambers. They were on the far end of the palace in the North tower. It was very secluded there, for she was close to being sent into exile. Very rarely did she see her husband the King for he despised her as she did him. It was all on account of some event that took place before Rosh's birth. He'd asked his mother about it before, but she'd always told him that she would tell him about it when he was old enough. Rosh always hated that answer. He wanted to know what had happened between his parents, and he didn't want to wait. He ran through the halls, eyes blinded by tears, praying he wouldn't run into his father or any of his father's nobles on his way.
The run to the North tower was a painful one. During his fight with his father, Rosh had received a sprained ankle among other things and it hurt to put any weight on it, yet alone run across the palace with it. Despite his pains, he made it in good time and was able to stop to regain his breath. He now stood outside the door of his mother's bed chamber. There was a brass name plate on the door that clearly read ' Queen Veralidaine Sarrasri of Galla.' It was commonly known that the Queen had long ago taken on her maiden name after falling out with the King. Somehow, Rosh always knew that her name, Sarrasri was in some way tied into the event that had broken his parents apart before his birth.
Breathlessly, Rosh lifted the brass knocker on the wooden door of the chamber and knocked on it twice. Inside, he could hear a slight groan and then a scurrying of feet. The door opened a crack and he could see the blue gray eyes of his mother looking out in the hall to see who it was.
"Rosh?" she questioned feebly, her voice shaky. He could see her hands quivering as she clung to the door. Since he was little, Rosh could always remember his mother always being in bad health. Some said it was because of guilt, but Rosh felt it was because she was unhappy. He knew she was married to a man that she hated and that was enough to make anyone lose their health.
" Yes, mother, its me," Rosh replied quietly, trying hard to wipe the tears and pain from his voice. The door was immediately opened all the way, revealing his mother standing in the doorway wearing a blue cotton night dress. Her hair was unkempt, her eyes blotted with tears. This was how he had always known his mother, so it hardly seemed to bother him. Today however, it did bother him. He saw her and his heart broke into pieces. This was one of the many vile deeds his father had done. How he hated that man, if he could even be called a man.
" Come in, Rosh," his mother motioned for him to come forward as she stepped out of the doorway to allow him entrance. Rosh did as he was told, ducking to pull his lanky form into her room. He was unusually tall for his age, making him have to duck to get into most doorways at the Gallan palace. " Sit down," his mother pointed towards the bed. He walked over to the bed in a few short strides and sat on the edge. His mother came and sat next to him, a pitying look on her face. She looked at him in a question, asking what had happened though he was sure she already knew.
Rosh looked away from his mother, refusing to meet her eyes. He didn't want her to see his tears, didn't want to give her any reason to become unhappier. He now felt guilty that he had even come to her with his problems. She had many of her own problems to deal with at the moment and he felt he had been selfish to concern her with his own. He could feel her comforting hand on his shoulder, but he would still not look at her. After a while, she put her other arm around him and pulled him gently into the circle of her arms. He rested his head against her chest, having to duck to do so.
" Rosh, sweet tell me what's wrong," she pleaded with her son. She ran her fingers through his mass of black hair and felt a painful reminder of the love she had lost long ago. She immediately wiped those thoughts from her mind and again turned her attention to her son. He needed her now,and it was selfish of her to be thinking about her own worries and woes.
Rosh could take no more. He suddenly broke out in tears, crying freely into his mother's chest. Tears that had threatened to fall upon entering the room were now rolling wildly down his cheeks. He could feel her draw him close to her, gently running her fingers through his hair. She murmured softly to him, trying her best to make him feel better. Rosh pulled his head up to look at his mother. She looked back at him and their gazes met. He could see the sorrow in her eyes, and it pained him even more. "Its father," he said through his tears, fighting back his sobs. " H-he beat me again, mother."
Rosh saw his mother's eyes change instantly. They now flashed with anger. She'd known well about how her husband, Aidan treated Rosh, and she hated it. No matter how much she disliked it though, she knew there was nothing she could do about it. If she were to speak up, Aidan would have her flogged and sent into exile. It was possible that he would even have her killed. She couldn't risk any of these things for she had to live to raise her son. If she died, she knew Rosh would soon follow her. Aidan had always hated the boy. Since the day of Rosh's birth, the King had hated him. Of course Aidan hadn't been the King in those days, but he had still hated him all the same.
Daine, as she preferred to be called had always loved her son. He was her only reminder of a love she lost a long time ago. It was a love that she would never forget, that she would remember all of her days. It was a love Aidan could never give her and a love she would never have again. The only person she came even close to loving as much as her lost love was her son Rosh, but that was a different love. She loved her son very much, and would give her life for him in an instant.
" I'm so sorry, Rosh, dear," she soothed, still running her fingers through his hair and holding him tight. " I wish there was something I can do, but you and I both know there isn't."
Rosh hated hearing these words. He didn't blame his mother, but sometimes he couldn't help but feel a little angry with her for not even trying. " I hate that man! I hate him!" Rosh yelled, his tears still flowing, but this time of anger. Rosh pounded his fist roughly down onto the bed. He pulled suddenly out of his mother's embrace and got to his feet. He began pacing, trying desperately to contain his anger.
Daine wasn't sure how she could help her son. She couldn't go to Aidan about it, she couldn't go to him about anything. She could tell Rosh the truth about his father and then maybe he would understand. What if he hated her for not telling him sooner though? Daine couldn't stand it if the only person she loved hated her. -Yes, but you owe it to him to tell him and he's old enough now- she contradicted herself. Daine shook her head in confusion. Perhaps now was the time she told him. He was, after all, sixteen years old now and a young man. He wasn't a child anymore, so perhaps he could handle it. At this last thought, Daine knew what her decision was. Besides, it was likely the retelling her story to Rosh would help her to get over it all. Yes, she would tell him now.
" Would it help if I told you that Aidan isn't your father?" Daine asked her son almost fearfully. She felt even more nervous when he stopped his pacing and jerked his head around to face her.
Rosh stared at his mother in shock. Had he heard her correctly? He could have sworn she had just told him that Aidan wasn't his father! No, he must be hallucinating. Either that or he was just hoping. Nothing could chance the fact that that evil man was his father. Then a horrifying and also pleasing thought struck Rosh. What if Aidan was never his father to begin with? What if this was the true reason that Aidan despised Rosh so. Now that she had brought this up, Rosh refused to let the subject drop.
" What do you mean?!" he asked anxiously. His eyes were wide in apprehension. It seemed to Rosh that his mother was taking an eternity to answer. The whole time he simply stared at her, not moving an inch. His feet were glued to the floor and he suspected that he couldn't move them if he tried. After a while, Rosh got tired of waiting for an answer. " What do you mean, mother?!" he almost yelled.
Daine looked at him with tear filled eyes and then couldn't bear to look in his eyes any longer. Just looking at him brought back memories. She looked persistently at the floor as if waiting for it to give her answers. When found none, she answered Rosh. " I mean exactly what I said, Rosh. King Aidan of Jerkins Galla is not your father."
Rosh could hardly believe what he was hearing. He wasn't sure if he should jump for joy or if he should yell of fright. All of this was so foreign to him. Though he'd always questioned why he looked nothing like Aidan, he'd never questioned that Aidan was his father. It had always been a common fact to him, whether he liked it or not.
All sorts of new thoughts and ideas and questions were running through Rosh's head. Who was his father? Was his true father a lover of his mother? Did Aidan know about it? Rosh didn't know what to say or ask. He didn't even know if he should speak. He felt like singing with joy for he now knew he was not related to the beast that was the King of Galla. With his joy though, came questions and possibly fear. He wanted to know everything about his father. He wanted to know what he looked like, if he was nice, and if Rosh had ever met him before and just not known who it was.
Rosh finally decided what to ask his mother first, though it was a tough choice. "If Aidan isn't my father, then who is?" he asked quietly. Rosh was surprised at his own self control and his sense of calmness.
Daine took in a deep breath and closed her eyes before answering. She'd known since the day of Rosh's birth that this day would come when he would ask her these questions, but she'd also known that she wasn't ever going to be ready for it. " You're father's name was Numair Salmalin," Daine said quietly. Just saying the name made her lose all control and cry. Tears flowed down her face freely.
Rosh saw that his mother was weeping and he immediately joined her on her bed again. He took her in his arms and did his best to comfort her. He thought over the name she had given him, claiming it was that of his true father. Rosh had met many of the nobles at court, being that he was the prince, but he'd never heard of such a man before. As he held his mother tightly to his chest, he continued to think, still no answer coming to him. Finally, after several minutes of thought, Rosh thought he could recall hearing of such a man. He'd read it in one of the many books of the Royal Library. He couldn't remember anything he'd read though. " Why do you cry, mother?" Rosh asked quietly, stroking her cheek gently with his hand. " Have I hurt you?"
When Daine looked at Rosh, she was constantly reminded of Numair and it hurt. Anything that she could connect with him caused her deep pain. She knew that today, in just a few moments, she would have to tell her story, the story of Numair Salmalin to her son. He deserved to know, and she would keep it from him no longer. She feared having to tell it, for she'd spent the past sixteen years trying to forget it. " No," Daine replied to her son, trying hard to stop the tears from flowing. " No, its not you. Its just the first time I've talked about all of this to anyone since you were born."
" You said his name was Numair Salmalin. What did you mean by was?" Rosh asked, hoping that this too wouldn't make her cry.
" He died before you were born," Daine did her best to hold back her tears, but found it impossible. She was reliving a time in her life that she'd spent many years trying to forget. She'd missed him so much and she'd never stopped missing him.
" My father is dead?" Rosh said stunned. He didn't know what to think. He'd almost been hoping he would get to meet his true father, perhaps get to know him. It was hard to believe he was dead.
" Yes," Daine replied. She uttered a loud sob and threw her head into her hands. She felt her son ease his hands gently over hers and holding them tight. He reminded her so much of Numair. His looks, his voice, his personality. It was as if someone had made a copy of Numair.
" Did you love him?" Rosh asked his mother, assuming that it must be the reason she was so upset.
" I loved him with all of my heart," Daine said through her tears. Rosh could sense longing in his mother's voice. " I always have and I always will. We loved each other so much and yet we were taken from each other."
Rosh didn't know what to say. Within the last half hour, he'd learned things that changed everything he'd grown up believing. He wanted to comfort his mother, but he didn't know how. He'd never fallen in love before, or even courted a young woman for that matter. He didn't know what it felt like to have your heart broken or what it felt like to be separated from a lover. From what he could see, it was the worst pain imaginable. It looked more painful even than the searing pain he was feeling now from his father's beating. -He's not my father- Rosh reminded himself quickly. It would take some getting used to, Aidan not being his real father. A lot of things had changed today for him. Even his name had changed. He was no longer Prince Roshaun of Jerkins, Galla, son of King Aidan of Jerkins, Galla. He was now simply Roshaun Salmalin, son of Numair Salmalin who he knew nothing about. The man could have been a commoner for all Rosh knew. -But I've read the name some where before- Rosh thought to himself. If he'd read the name, then chances are he was no commoner.
" Mother?" Rosh asked, gently pulling his mother out of his arms so that he could look her in the eye. He met her gaze and continued. " I know that you're upset right now, but I need to know. I need to know about this Numair Salmalin you say is my father. I want to know everything about him, everything."
Daine had known this was coming. She'd dreaded it, but she'd known it would come. In many ways, her heart screamed at her to stay silent and not bother telling Rosh about Numair. She didn't want to. It would bring back so many painful memories. There was also a voice in her head that told her that Rosh was ready to know and that she owed it to him. It wouldn't be fair if she told him about his father, but didn't also tell him the story behind it. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and prepared herself for the longest, hardest story of her life. " I understand," she said simply, refusing to meet his gaze. " I owe you an explanation, Rosh and I have every intention of giving it to you. Though it truly started about twenty-four years ago when I first met Numair, the part that truly means anything to you started about twenty years ago when I was your age."
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A/N: Ok, this was only a prologue. Its kinda confusing though cuz I'm having this story start from the end. All the chapters after this except for the last few which will come a LONG time from now will be in the past for Daine. They will take place right after ROTG.