Thrallmagic: Chapter 11

Chapter 11

When I reach the top of the stairs, a worried looking priest greets me. He leads us to the inner room, where three altars stand. One is made of grey stone, the other of white, and the other of black. Loch’s altar is nearly untouched- most fey worship either Anwyn, the goddess of good, or the dark goddess, known as the Lady Morrigan. Her true name has been concealed from the beginning of time, and some claim that it is because it gives the bearer unlimited power over the goddess herself. Others say that it has simply been lost, so scared were the people of her wrath- and even more terrified of her joy.

I kneel before all three, never having made a choice. Lindon leaves a drop of blood on the Lady Morrigan’s altar, and Cyan and Cassandra press their lips to the cool white stone that is Anwyn’s altar. We sit in silence for a while, all of us praying for different things, before I finally stand up again. Lindon stands soon after me, Cyan after him, and Cassandra is the last of us to stand. Shaking the wrinkles from her dress, she stands up, her face composed.

As we walk to the carriage, Lindon whispers, so low only I can hear, “I’m sneaking into your rooms tonight. Don’t be startled.”

Wondering what he wants to discuss, I stifle a yawn and keep my face perfectly blank before whispering back, “Before midnight, alright?”

He makes no move to show that he’s understood or even heard, but he squeezes my hand after we pass through the gates. Cassandra climbs back into the carriage, but I pull myself onto Lindon’s horse. “I thought you wanted to ride in the carriage, Ria.” Lindon cocks an eyebrow questioningly.

I sigh. “If I spend another moment in that stuffy box, I’ll go mad.” I wrap my arms around his waist and lay my head on his back. “What’re you waiting for, blood moon? Go, already.”

Without hesitation, he urges his horse forward, and cool air whips loose hairs around my face. We’re soon at the palace, and as I stifle another yawn, Lindon dismounts and tugs on my dress to remind me to get down.

After saying goodbye to Cyan and Cassandra, Lindon walks me to my rooms, along with my guard escort. Most of my ladies-in-waiting are in the sitting room, giggling vapidly and chattering, their high voices echoing off the tall ceiling and long windows. When I step into my room, though, Serafine is waiting for me, a silken nightgown and robe waiting for me. She takes the pins out of my hair and combs it out, braiding it loosely. The temple has somehow put me in a good mood, despite my earlier headache, and I smile at her in the mirror. She has been with me, all these years, and the closest thing to a friend I have- at court, at least. Smiling back, she helps me into my nightclothes, and I let myself wish that I can stay in them for a moment. After bringing me my wine, she and the rest of my ladies leave, probably off to dance the night away.

Deep in the city, the clocktower strikes eleven. Sighing, I drink the glass of wine and pad to my closet. Scanning the clothes, I wonder what to wear. I want to look like a princess- a queen, even. A simple tunic and leggings will not suffice for this meeting. Settling on a deep red dress that shines in the candlelight, I lace it up. Not wanting to pull my boots on again, I tie my delicate dancing slippers on. I unbraid my hair and let it tumble down my back in a dark wave. Sitting down in a chair, I remember Lindon’s words from earlier and resolve to wait for him as long as I can. Soon, I hear the quiet thud of someone landing on my balcony and stand, readying my magic if it isn’t Lindon. When I see his figure outside of the opaque glass doors, I drop the power and wait for him to make his way inside. Opening the door, he throws his cloak off, and I notice that he is wet. A bruise blooms on his cheekbone, and his knuckles are splt and bleeding. Shaking his head at my questioning glance, he sits in front of the fire, warming himself.

“I got into a fight with my second-in-command.” His voice is rough, and I pour him a glass of wine. He drains it, his brow furrowed with thought. I run a hand through his blue locks, and he leans back into my touch.

After a moment, I ask, “What were you fighting over?” I don’t bother to wonder who won- I know that Lindon always, always, wins his fights.

“What I’m about to do.” He sounds anxious, almost afraid, and I look at him in alarm. Before I can say anything, he pulls off his sword belt, tossing it at my feet, and unbuttons his shirt, kneeling before me. I gasp at what I see.

All fae have tattoos; we have them inscribed as we grow, until nearly our entire upper body, save our arms and face, are covered. Mine are done in golden ink, and I know Lindon’s are silver-black. He left the space over his heart free, where most fae write the name of the one they are mated or sworn to. Unmarried and a prince, Lindon had never had good reason to tattoo anyone’s name on his chest, but now, in gold lettering, I read my own name, titled, “Queen of the Fae”.

I stride over to him, reaching out and tracing the marking despite myself. Making my voice steady, I say, “This isn’t fresh.”

He nods. “I had it done a month ago, when I decided.” He waits for me to ask the obvious question, and I give in.

“Decided what, Lindon?” It is perfectly still both inside and outside.

Bowing his head, he says, “Let me swear myself to you, your majesty.” He doesn’t dare to meet my eyes.

Pushing down the magic that flares with my anger, I put a finger under his chin and tilt his head up. Reluctantly, he looks at me. “I am not queen yet, Lindon.” Forcing myself to smile, I say, “Besides, when have you ever deigned to address me with my title?”

He doesn’t return my smile. “You are my queen, Rionach Aisling Liadan Vaelclann.” This time, he meets my eyes. “Let me be truthsworn to you.”

Stepping away from him, I run a hand through my hair, turning away long enough to gain control of the emotions raging in me. “You are the commander of the Hunt, and a prince of Unseelie. Why do you swear to me?”

Reaching out an arm, he spins me around before speaking. “I am prince in name only. We know- the world knows that I will abdicate the throne to lead the Wild Hunt.” Pausing, he chooses his words carefully. “You, Rionach, are meant to be queen of fae. All fae, like it used to be, centuries ago. Let me swear to you, let me protect you, and take my crown.” I hear the pleading in his voice, and I drop to my knees beside him.

“Why, Lindon? Why is this so important to you? Obviously, you’ve spent months thinking about this. Tell me why this matters so much.” I sit back on my haunches, looking up at him now. He looks sad, and lost, and I want to hug him, to tell him it will be alright, but I know I must be a princess- a queen that Lindon believes I am- for a few seconds more.

“The question of the succession is something that has plagued me for years, Ri- your majesty, and you are my choice.” Suddenly, his eyes are boring into mine as he speaks. “And it’s not just that. I don’t have to swear to you for that.” Taking a deep breath, he continues, “You’re my best friend- my sister, even. I love you more than I loved her. I want- I need to be able to protect you. And even though it sounds like it, this isn’t me trying to make up for my sister’s death. I’ve known my entire life, somewhere at the back of my mind, that this is my fate. Even when we were young, you were always the queen and I the guard when we played.” His hands curl into fists. “If you die, or get hurt in the coming war- and there will be a war- I will never forgive myself for not being sworn to you.”

His voice catches, and my heart breaks, knowing how hard this must be for him. “What brought this on? Why tonight? Lindon, you don’t ha-“

“Don’t tell me I don’t have to. I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Let me do this for you. I came here for you, to swear to you. My Hunt knows this, but it’s only tonight, I think they’ve understood the full significance.” He blinks back tears, and I place a hand on his cheek, trying to comfort him somehow, but not knowing how. “Ria. Your majesty. My queen. Let me do this. Please.”

It takes me less than a minute to decide. Standing up, I tower above Lindon, putting away my own thoughts and thinking only of what is best for the country. “Very well. You shall swear to me. But does your father approve of this, Lindon?”

He grimaces. “I spoke with him about it upon my arrival yesterday. He’s not happy about it, but he’s accepted it, seeing as it is my decision, and he doesn’t see himself dying anytime soon.” Swallowing, he looks up at me. “I would swear to you now, majesty. I see no reason to delay it.”

I nod firmly, trying not to feel, knowing I will cry from the trust Lindon has shown towards me. Drawing my dagger, I press it into his skin, directly under the tattoo of my name, and steady my hand. I pull it across his skin in a small cut, but Lindon doesn’t wince, doesn’t move. Next, I loosen the lacing and pull down the sleeves of my dress, letting the bodice hang at my waist, shivering as the cool air brushes my skin. Cutting myself in the same spot, I press a washcloth to it to keep the blood from staining my dress. Collecting some of our mingled blood on my finger, I anoint Lindon’s forehead with it, hand shaking. He stares straight ahead, ready for whatever may come.

“Lindon Conall Alister Raeveclann, Commander of the Wild Hunt, Prince of Unseelie, do you swear by the power of truth to me, Rionach Aisling Liadan Vaelclann, Prince-“

“Queen.” Lindon’s voice is strong, insistent.

“-Queen of Seelie Court, Shieldmaiden of the North, Lady of the Silverlake? Do you grant to me everything that is yours- your mind, your heart, your soul?” I catch a few drops of blood from my cut on the palm of my hand.

Lindon swallows, doing the same. We press our hands together, and as he speaks, a golden glow encircles them. “Your majesty, I freely give you myself, to use as you see fit. I give you my mind, heart, and soul. I give to you the help of the Hunt, my crown, and my friendship. By the power of truth, I swear myself to you.” He rises, making no move to staunch the blood that flows freely down his bare chest, spattering onto the floor.

“Then, Lindon Raeveclann, no longer Prince of Unseelie, what is your greatest secret?” Though I know that to complete the oath, this is necessary, the question still makes my toes curl.

He doesn’t hesitate to utter the words that will seal the bond forever. “I care more about you than I do of the Hunt, your majesty.” The glow that encircles our hands grows tighter, glowing so bright I avert my eyes. A strange burning comes over me, growing until I think I can bear it no longer before disappearing, along with the light.

We collapse as one as each other’s consciousness floods into our minds. If I want to, I know I can see into Lindon’s mind, and know what he feels, what he thinks, but I resist the temptation. “Are you alright?” My voice is hoarse, somehow, even though we’ve only spoken in whispers.

He nods. “I… I’m fine.” His eyes are wide. “I can feel your presence, somehow.” He glances at me, then into his mind’s eye.

Cautiously, in my mind, I say, Lindon? Can you hear me?

Yes.

His voice echoes in my mind, and I stare at him. “The oath worked, then. You’re sworn to me.”

Nodding, he twists his lips into a weak smile. The blood from his cut has slowed, already, as has mine. Still, I fetch bandages and press them to the tiny wound. He does the same for me, and when the clocktower strikes a quarter to twelve, I know I must leave him. Pulling up my dress to cover myself again, I run a hand over Lindon’s forehead. His skin is cold, and pale. I half pull, half carry him to my bed, where he falls into a deep sleep, weak from the power I have taken to bind him to me. Throwing on a dark cloak to keep myself from being noticed, I slip into the secret corridor that will get me past my guards and to the roof for my rendezvous.

The bells are ringing midnight when I emerge onto the rooftop garden. Spying a man on the other side of the hedge, I slip towards him quietly. A haze of exhaustion comes over my eyes as I walk. Meeting with people in the middle of the night will make me go insane soon enough.