After Times of Tender Agony: Ch. 1

As promised, here is the first chapter of "After Times of Tender Agony" (AToTA). Doesn't the abbreviated form of the name (AToTA) look a little like a person screaming? It's relatively applicable to the topic of the story, or so I think.... :D

Anyway, we start out happy with no screaming, if that's any reassurance. About 5-6 chapters of happy, iirc.

Summary:

Four years after the restoration of Anneria, an awry conference and the agonizing aftermath test Janner and Sara—and their relationship—more than anything has before.

Missing Trinkets

“And you’re absolutely certain going to this conference is a good idea?” Artham asked, concern dusting his words. “There are plenty of other people in Anniera who could represent Anniera who aren’t the King of Anniera, you know, and—”

Janner sighed and got up from the bed in his room, beginning to re-pack the satchel with items he preferred to have more accessibility to. All the contents were there, except one that he was still struggling to find. “Yes, Uncle Artham, I’m aware of that, and no, I’m not absolutely certain going is the best idea. But we can’t ever be absolutely certain of anything, can we? We’d be disappointed far too often if that was the case.”

Birds twittered outside, a few passing by the window, as if agreeing, and he couldn’t help but smile at the flicker of humored frustration crossing Artham’s face. 

“You know,” he said, his voice now soft, his blue eyes the same. “You remind me of Esben more every day. That’s just the sort of thing he would’ve said.”

A lovely warmth blossomed in Janner’s chest when Artham said such a wonderful thing, and the feeling settled in his heart when he picked up a small box, brushed imaginary dust off it, and carefully set it into his satchel. “Thank you,” he said, smiling at his uncle. “That means a great deal to me.”

Artham grinned back at him. “There’s no need to thank me,” he replied modestly. “You’re the one who’s done all the work. I simply made the observation.”

Janner laughed at that, then purposely tried to keep the warmth and merriment glowing in his heart as he searched his room yet again for the one item he was missing. Perhaps he had hidden it in the bureau? But, no, when he checked he saw only a spare shirt, two sets of casual wear, and cooler-weather attire. Everything else was packed for the three-week-conference in Skree, plus the four weeks sailing there and back.

He moved on to the next potential location: under his bed. Easing himself to the ground slowly so as to prevent rough contact with the floor was the easiest way to avoid bruising, even if it was the least convenient. Once on the floor, though, and halfway under the bed, Janner quickly realized he was met again with failure. The place was only used for storage, and what he sought was certainly not there either. 

“The ship from Ban Rona is getting closer by the minute,” Artham remarked from somewhere. Janner couldn’t see his uncle, since his own head was still amidst various boxes that were slowly making him feel claustrophobic, but the fact that Artham could see the port likely meant he stood by the window.

“Lovely,” he grunted in response, shimmying out from under the bed, suppressing a cough as he did so. Only dust caused it, he knew, but everyone else would immediately assume he was dying, and then the trip and his plan would come to a screeching halt. 

Once standing again, Janner began searching more haphazardly, slightly panicked by the news that the ship was nearly ready. Just because he was king didn’t mean it wasn’t considered rude to keep people waiting.

It wasn’t until the pillows on his bed fell to the floor and he failed to pick them up, instead hurrying on to the next unlikely hiding spot, that Artham decided to comment. 

“Janner, what in Aerwiar are you looking for?”

Barely glancing at him, Janner slid open his desk drawer and checked there—no luck—before replying. “A book. It’s a book I wanted to give to Sara, a first edition volume. I’ve looked everywhere in here five times already, and I still can’t find it.”

Artham cocked his head and wandered over to the bookshelf, then began running one finger along the spine of each while holding his left arm behind his back, looking rather regal. “What is it called?”

“Diamonds in the Night, by Edin Norwich,” he replied almost mechanically, having memorized the title and author long ago. He could have easily quoted the publication year, city, and press, as well as the novel’s description, but chose not to. That might have been odd. He flipped through a stack of papers, feeling a little hopeless. The novel had been a favorite of his for years, largely because the way the protagonist felt about his love interest was just the way Janner felt about Sara. Losing it when it was a bit of a gift for her was quite a disappointment.

“Janner,” Artham said sharply, jerking him out of his thoughts.

Shifting his gaze away from the useless stack of paper he hadn’t actually been focusing on, Janner furrowed his brow when he saw his uncle holding a book and looking rather appalled. “What is it, Uncle Artham?”

“How many times do I have to tell you to return my books when you’re done with them? I’ve been looking for this,” he stated emphatically, gesturing toward the book in his hand. “Birds of the Isle: Migration Patterns, Feeding Habits, Adolescent Development, and More. This is one of my favorites!”

Janner sighed, now feeling completely resigned. He sat down dejectedly on the bed and rested his head in his hand. “I know, and I’m sorry,” he said, genuinely apologetic. “I needed it two weeks ago for a meeting with the regents on bird invasion issues. Apparently, there were some problems.”

“You could’ve consulted me, you know,” Artham said, his voice now gentler. “I was in Ban Rona with Arundelle and Ilana at the time, but surely you knew about the meeting ahead of schedule.”

Sighing again, Janner studied the floor, suddenly finding all the lines in it rather interesting. His left hand strayed toward the thin, gold chain around his neck, the small Annieran crest attached to it hiding beneath his shirt. “I know but…I never would have remembered what you said! And I had to read it for myself, and—”

There was a thoughtful pause before Artham interrupted it with, “Janner, there’s no need to defend yourself. It’s alright. Let’s leave the discussion there.”

Janner nodded curtly, knowing he needed to get up and keep looking for the book. Convincing himself to do so was proving difficult, though, and by the time he had gathered his resolve, Artham began speaking again.

“Is there any chance it’s on the bottom shelf?” he asked, and when Janner looked up, he saw his uncle literally lying on the floor, looking into the bottom shelf of the bookcase. 

Artham drew out a dark blue volume, the golden vine print on the cover contrasting beautifully, even from that distance. “This it?”

“Yes!” Janner said, relief flooding over him. “Uncle Artham, thank you so much!” He jumped from where he was sitting and took the book gratefully. “But,” he continued with a frown. “I could have sworn I looked there at least three times.”

Getting up from the floor, Artham smiled at him reassuringly. “The mind does funny things sometimes, doesn’t it? A different perspective helps a lot, or so I’ve gathered.”

Janner nodded absentmindedly, still trying to figure out how and why he hadn’t managed to find the precious book himself. Nothing reasonable came to mind, though, so he shrugged, then slipped the book into the satchel carefully, making sure it was near the small box.

“Did you shrug at me or yourself?” Artham appeared next to him, and Janner felt his insides leap briefly. “Not that I mind too terribly if you shrugged at me, though it is good advice, but if you shrugged at yourself, you can’t beat yourself up for misplacing something.”

“But something so important?”  Janner said desperately, spinning to face his uncle. “You know what it’s for! And you’re the one who told me I didn’t have to cut a hole in any books.”

Artham smiled. “Aye, that I do, and that I did. I’m sure Sara will appreciate the last bit, as well. Don’t worry, Janner. Sometimes we misplace things and they get lost. It isn’t the end of Aerwiar, I promise. They always turn up once you stop looking.”

Janner sat down on the bed again, wishing he had something to do with his hands or fingers other than clasping and intertwining them. Wait—he did have something else to do. His hand went back to fingering the chain.  “What important thing have you ever lost?”

“My mind, for starters,” Artham replied jokingly, sitting down next to him. Janner shot him a withering look and received laughter as a response. “Well, other than my mind, I’ve lost a good number of missed opportunities. Times when I should’ve done something and didn’t, should’ve said something and kept silent. There were lots of those with Arundelle, far too many. Don’t let your chance slip away Janner,” he said firmly, switching subjects to what was obviously his main point. “Maybe you think because you lost the book, you shouldn’t do it, you should wait. Don’t. She’s waited long enough and so have you. Seize the moment, alright?”

Janner sighed, resisted the urge to rub his temple where a headache had bloomed, and eyed his uncle suspiciously. “As much as I appreciate the advice, Uncle Artham, I wanted to know if you’d ever lost any important objects, like a rare library book or the best piece of your mother’s china. Something comparable to this book.”

“I lost mine and Arundelle’s wedding rings when we eloped,” Artham said briskly, his eyes laughing. “The consequences weren’t too dreadful since they could really be worn only for the ceremony since we wanted things to stay private, but I was so angry with myself.” He rested his chin in his hand, remembering. “I was furious, and I mean truly furious. I panicked. I was sure Arun and I couldn’t get married without the rings, and it was all an utter failure and then…and then she pulled a few strands of grass out of nowhere and began braiding them together. She managed to thread a flower stem through one and left the other undecorated. ‘We can get married now, right?’ she asked, and all I could do was stare at her and mouth, ‘yes.’” Artham smiled and squeezed Janner’s shoulder. “It’ll all work out in the end, I promise.”

“Did you ever find the rings?”

Artham chuckled. “Oh, a week or so later I found them hiding in the back of my sock drawer. Everything does turn up eventually.”

Janner nodded, and at that moment there was a brisk knock on the door, followed by Sara’s cheery, “Janner, Mama says we need to be getting down to the port if we don’t want there to be any delays!”

Slinging his satchel over his shoulder, he called, “I’m coming, don’t worry!”

Before opening the door and leaving, Janner turned around and smiled. “Thank you, Uncle Artham. I appreciate it. I really do.”

Artham nodded. “Anytime, Janner. Anytime.”

Notes:

So far just innocent and happy...let me know what you think, let me know if anything diverges from the canon, and happy December!!! <3