[Open Post: A Flower That Blooms but Once]

[mobled_queen]

There's a woman walking slowly through the gardens of the Mansion: red-haired and beautiful, even in her fifties; the sun strikes fire from the emerald necklace at her throat and the flyaway strands of her hair. There's a warmth in her eyes that invites you in, that says she could be a confidante and a friend--and, too, a shrewdness that seems to see through you as though you were a clear lake. She touches each late bloom and spray of tawny grass with careful hands.

A part of her knows that this is only a temporary visitation, more than a dream and less than a miracle. She wears a queer little pocketwatch on a chain around her neck, and it ticks down the hours until she must depart again.

Comments

[mobled_queen]

"Oh!" She brings her fist to her mouth, smothering a little laugh. "Forgive me. You must be Sagramore. It's a pleasure to meet you."

[sagramore]

"The pleasure is mine, my lady. I'm honored to meet any of his countrywomen."

[mobled_queen]

"You should tell him that his sister is doing well," she says. "She misses her brother, of course, but I don't think she blames him at all for disappearing so suddenly. What with the election--his father's been under a great deal of strain, and of course that means he's making it everyone else's problem. I think she'd hop the first ship to France, too, if she could."

[sagramore]

"There's nothing he'd like better than to know she's well. Is there anything else you can tell me about her to pass on to him?"

[mobled_queen]

"Only the usual court gossip," she admits. "My son runs hot and cold with her, and she keeps trying to pin him down. I'd hoped that they might make a good match ... but he's taken his father's death very hard."

[sagramore]

He sobers. "Right. I do remember Claudius told me his brother had died. I'm sorry to hear it's been difficult for your son."

[mobled_queen]

"He blames Claudius for it," says Gertrude, a little more quietly. "Many do. He vanished so suddenly after my husband's death, and everyone knew there was no love lost between them--and what exactly could I do to quell the rumors? Tell them he vanished to a magical land with dragons who like tea?" She shakes her head. "Well. My son will grieve in his own time. And it sounds as though Claudius is happier here than he ever was in Denmark."

[sagramore]

"He's taken to it very well. You should know none of us had any choice in coming here -- if he had stayed I expect he would have tried to make things right. But I do think you have the right of it, on the point of his happiness. Are you well?"

[mobled_queen]

She gives him an assessing look. "May I be frank with you, Sagramore?"

[sagramore]

"I hope you will be."

[mobled_queen]

Gertrude smiles, just a little meanly. "My husband was an abusive piece of shit, and I'm glad he's dead. I'm glad I'm here, where I don't have to pretend to be in mourning. You see this dress?" She swishes her red, red skirt. "This is what I feel like wearing now that his weight is off my back. Not mourning black. He wasn't worth the cost of the funeral meats."

[sagramore]

"My lady. If I'm frank with you, I hope you may never marry again. Queen regnant is an honorable title."

[mobled_queen]

"It is," she says, tilting her head a little. "Not one I'm likely to wear, but I do like the sound of it."

[sagramore]

"Are you not? That seems a shame. --Well. You may not want it."

[mobled_queen]

"Oh, it's not my choice to make. The electors insist that if I'm to rule in my own right, I should bring in a noble husband who can ride pillion on my throne." She rolls her eyes. "And my lord chamberlain, who ought to be championing my cause to them, has his choice firmly fixed on his own son--that's your Laertes, by the way."

[sagramore]

Sagramore lets out a less-than-pleased sigh. "Yes, I'm aware that the lord chamberlain is attempting to crush his son under his own ambition."

[mobled_queen]

She favors him with a wry look. "Not a proponent of Laertes for king?"

[sagramore]

"He's happy here. He pursues every avenue of knowledge -- he's as industrious as I'm sure he was in France or Denmark -- except that everything here is of his own choosing. He deserves to choose. I can't think of anything that would more quickly ruin him than serving as king -- any king, but most particularly king of that miserable, self-interested, calumniate pit of a court. With no disrespect to your own ambitions, lady."

[mobled_queen]

"You're not wrong," she says. A cloud passes over the sun; it dims her, shrinks her from a queen into a mother far from home. "I'm glad he has you, for what it's worth. Any boy so universally liked and inoffensive as Laertes has paid a terrible price for it--and here, it sounds like some of that's finally getting paid back to him."

[sagramore]

"If I could give it to him a thousandfold I would, but his father has done damage I can't hope to repair," shorter than he intends. It's not as if Gertrude has any control over any of this. He shakes himself. "I'm not a prize. But I have better to offer him than Denmark."

[mobled_queen]

"Don't sell yourself short," she says, striding over to lay a hand on his shoulder. "He's been here, what, two and a half months? That's a fast courtship. If you don't see yourself as a prize, I'm sure he does."

[sagramore]

"That's not the point," he protests. "I'm trying to tell you--" What is he trying to tell her? "He can't go back, and you should probably get out too."

[mobled_queen]

"You know, I think I will," she says thoughtfully. "When I came through, I was wearing this." She clicks open the watch necklace on its golden chain, lying incongruous beneath her emerald. "It's not mine. I don't know why this place would give it to me, unless it was trying to tell me I'm not going to stay."

[sagramore]

"I'm sorry you aren't. You'd be a welcome addition. But if you're going back though -- good. There are better countries. Go someplace that deserves you."

[mobled_queen]

"--oh, you meant out of Denmark. No, that's not in the cards for me. You see, I love my burning shitheap of a country, and I want to do what's best for it. It's an unfortunate malady, but just as unfortunately, incurable."