Whitney Writes…

“What does Your Grace think of my proposal?” Gorbak asked, wringing his hands nervously. He shifted from one foot to the other, beads of sweat forming along the brim of his chef’s hat. A steadying hand reached out and rested gently on his forearm. Gorbak looked up into the face of Murdan. He let out a steadying breath, smiling at his lover.

“We would be hard pressed to lose you, both of you,” Fadiya added, her eyes shifting to encompass Murdan as well, “for this extended period of time. You are both certain your teams can handle the added strain this will put on them?”

“I have talked it over many times with both Mazar and Meena,” Gorbak said. His voice lowered, he added: “They both know of the struggles in my marriage to Indel, they think some time away will do me some good.”

“And you?” Fadiya asked, turning her gaze to Murdan, the widower of her father. She was pleased her step-father had found someone to move on with; she had wished, however, that he had not done so with an already married man. “What of Ugrash and Zaeri? What opinion did they have?”

“This one spoke with them,” Murdan said, “while they were not thrilled with the idea of my being gone for long, they did say they will not stand in my way.”

“And they will confirm when I ask them?”

“They will my queen, bring them before you now and inquire,” Murdan insisted.

“There is no need at the moment,” Fadiya said, both to Murdan and the guards who had begun moving to fetch the Khajiiti woman from the smithy. She narrowed her eyes at the guards, she would have to have a word with them for responding to Murdan over her. “What of your children?”

“We will bring Dabani and Yanabil with us, Your Grace,” Gorbak said, “we wish them to learn their heritages.”

“I meant your children with your other spouses…” Fadiya clarified, referring to Gorbak’s seven children with his estranged wife, and Murdan’s five children with her father. “Surely you do not mean to travel with an entourage of fourteen children?”

Gorbak reddened, clearly he had not considered this, or that his queen would ask. “I assumed mine would remain with their mother,” he said hesitantly, “as I doubt she would permit me to bring them from here… with… Murdan.” Fadiya pursed her lips, disliking his response. She shifted her eyes to Murdan, awaiting his answer.

“Zaeri and Nakra have said they will watch my boys, Ugrash and Black-Scale have said they will watch my girls,” Murdan said, unabashed by the inquiry of his step-daughter.

“Gorbak,” Fadiya said slowly, “my only issue with your plan is your wife.” She watched the Orc cook hang his head in shame. “I do not mean to chastise you on your fidelity, or lack there of, that is not my business. My qualm is her age, Indel is, unfortunately, getting up there in age, even for an elf. My fear is if you leave your children here, Indel will die while you are away.” She held up her hand to stop Gorbak’s coming protest. “While of course the crown would care for the little ones in such a time, I worry that they would not fair nearly as well as if they had their father here.”

“You are asking us to delay?” Gorbak asked, incredulously. “Or worse, wait for the mother of my children to die before we depart?”

Fadiya merely shrugged. “Or take them with you,” she said simply. “You are going to Orsinium, are you not? Let the little ones see their heritage.”

“But… that would mean taking them from here knowing there is a high chance they never see their mother again,” Gorbak said.

“A tricky choice, to be sure,” Fadiya said, “but a choice none-the-less. And the choice is yours alone. Whatever you decide, I shall approve your passport to travel to Orsinium in this time of war.”

Inktober 2024, Prompt #7: PASSPORT🧡🖤👻🎃