The Changing of the Guard Druscella was ill. It wasn’t serious yet. Well, it was serious, and incurable, but the mediwizards thought she might hold out for years yet as long as it didn’t take a sudden turn for the worse, which it could, at any time, but for now her symptoms were mild and her mind was still sharp.
Still, she wanted to settle things on the mountain before any complications arose with her health or her decisions became suspect. She was going to step down as matriarch.
It was a hard decision. The last few decades had been a tightrope walk, grooming two possible directions for the family to take, depending on how the political breezes blew. She still didn’t think it was the right time to commit to one or the other. The political landscape was still too uncertain. Conservatives had been holding their own, but liberals were clawing away at their base, and like her own health, the old order could fall away at any time with little warning. Or the old guard could remain in power for decades more.
She had heirs groomed for either eventuality. A respectable family with minimal scandal in their immediate unit. A healthy marriage, two sons. The elder son was a successful businessman, running a respite retreat for magical animals. The younger was a fine family man and a finance man, carrying on the proud Pierce banking traditions, which his eldest son engaged to be married to a Brockert very soon and follow in his father’s footsteps, and Wesley’s younger daughter was making good and strong contacts at school. Druscella had little doubt that young Caitlin would marry well and do the family proud. And with the upcoming nuptials between Winston and Emerald, they were well set to continue carrying on their time honored pureblood values well into future.
The only reservation she held on that group was that Marcus was only her third son, and they would not be flexible enough to bend to the changing winds should the New Order arise.
By contrast, Thesius’ family was well suited for that time of upheaval and transition, should it ever come, which Druscella believed it absolutely would, just not necessarily soon. His son had a wife of dubious blood status. His adult daughter had been disowned for liberal opinions and became a matriarch of her own little spur of the family. Amelia was a reasonable woman, with little resentment toward her parents or brother, and would prove a valuable foothold for pulling the New Hampshire Pierces into the new age, and possibly reuniting the three family branches together as allies instead of rivals. Thesius, Katrina, Thaddeus, and Alicia the Younger were all clever people, and able to adapt to whatever put them on top without clinging to outdated opinions. They were the future of the New Hampshire Pierces, the best chance this branch of the family had of rising as Pheonixes instead of burning to ash once the revolution came.
Unfortunately for them, the future had not yet arrived, and Marcus’ family was in the superior political position for the current time.
As the family gathered for Winston’s ‘welcome-home, graduate!’ party, she decided she would make her announcement today. It was something of a present to him, after all, if not directly.
She allowed the boy to arrive home from his wagon ride (he was of age, and perfectly capable of apparating himself home from the transportation station where the wagon let him off), and enjoy his party for a while. She allowed the speeches of congratulations from his father and grandfather to conclude, and the cake to be savored.
Once the plates were cleared away, though, she rose.
“I have something I want you all to hear,” she stated, not raising her voice, but she didn’t have to. Her descendants and their spouses all turned to listen attentively.
“I have made my decision about housing arrangements after Winston’s wedding. Effective at that time, I will step down as Matriarch, and Marcus will be our Patriarch. As such, Wesley, his Alicia, and young Caitlin will move into the Heir’s House. Winston and Emerald will remain in Wesley’s current home. Thaddeus and his family will remain in theirs. Malcolm and Bettina will remain in theirs. Marcus and his Caitlin will take the master quarters in the Manor, Duesius will stay where he is, and I will move into Berta’s old room. Derwent, Thesius and Katerina will have the option to have rooms in the west wing of the Manor, or find other accommodations as they see fit.”
Honestly, it was her eldest two sons she felt the decision was most unfair to. Derwent had no heirs and was only eighteen years younger than herself. He had to know he’d be bypassed, once she finally stepped down, but he had been her nominal heir for all of these years. She supposed she could have named him the new patriarch, allowed the New Hampshire branch a few more years of fluidity, or avoiding a clear decision, but then it would not have been her choice, it would have been his, and, quite frankly, she did not trust Derwent’s ability to make important decisions like that.
As for Thesius, he had done nothing wrong. He’d had a headstrong daughter who had been responsible for the family splintering apart all those years ago, but that was hardly his fault. Of all of her sons who tried again with a second wave of children after that disaster, Thesius was the only one who managed not to repeat his mistakes. He’d done well with Thaddeus and he had a strong pair of young grandsons who proved his family was also well positioned to expand indefinitely. He was a wise man, and a good son to her, and she had no doubts about his ability to make intelligent choices for the family.
He would have made a fine patriarch, and his look of betrayal as she named Marcus instead pierced her heart. She stopped by him on her way to the door, and squeezed his arm. “Your family is, unfortunately, ahead of their time,” she said quietly by way of apology, pitched only for his ear. “You are the Pierces of the future, not the present. Be ready for it.”
Then she left. She had thirty some odd years worth of packing to do.