It's finally time.
The moment both the young lovers have been waiting for. Their elopement, their marriage - where their very souls will be bound together eternally. Arwen never thought she would ever be capable of loving someone this much until she met him. Her passion for him consumes her irrevocably but she lets it.
As they snuck away this afternoon (when everyone in Umbra is asleep) on horseback all she could think about was how she is going to be a bride by the end of the day and how she and Klaude will leave this goddess forsaken island to start new lives as new people.
Not in Valostra, in Centra or perhaps one day even Bevellet or Salkades. They didn't need vast amounts of money or wealth to live - all they need is each other. That may have been naive of Arwen to think but with her love stricken heart she needs no reason or logic. There is simply her and Klaude.
Still, since Klaude is the son of a prince and of age he has his own money. Arwen is not so lucky, despite being a queen she has no money of her own and she can never steal from the Radurons, their vault with all their ancient wealth is too tightly locked up with a key only Cierra has.
Hoarded from their years of aristocracy, wealth and power when they made themselves queens, empresses and rules of a dynasty that lasted for centuries. They made a mere city a queendom in its own right and Umbra had its own unparalleled dominion - Arwen has heard it so many times from Cierra, her pride and arrogance always shone through when she talked about the Raduron Golden Days. But that has past. Now they speak of the glory days again, but this time as they conquer the entire island but Arwen won't let that happen.
As long as Arwen has Klaude that is enough for her, she doesn't need vast amount of Raduron wealth to prop her up and she never really wanted the crown anyway - it is appealing to a certain degree because she thinks she could make the island better and rule it's people fairly but not with Cierra looming. No. This is better. For everyone. Cierra can never be allowed reign of the entire island who knows what terror she will wreck, she does not care for the people at all. Only herself, only power.
Arwen will get happiness and will be free from Cierra's clutches and Cierra will lose her only chance to rule the entire island and to even rule Umbra independently as with Arwen's birth comes the promise of future shadow queens, keeping Umbra and Fennbirn tied together indefinitely.
Now, Arwen has never been vengeful but she cannot deny that thinking of Cierra's loss makes her happy. Now the Raduron won't be able to corrupt the crown. Not like Cierra corrupted and broke Arwen.
Now it will be either Nalani or Carina who will win and reign. Arwen hopes it is Nalani, she seems the better choice of the two on the outside.A good choice as the people love her already. And she seems to care.
With Carina comes the Arrons in a twin package who remind her too much of the Radurons. She only hopes that when one of them dies it is quick and peaceful, she doesn't want either of them to suffer, her younger sisters.
Sisters. Such an odd word to call the triplets as it implies familial bonds and unconditional love but queens of the island are not made for such things, they are made for blood, sacrifice and glory. Queens do not have family, they only have the Goddess, their duty and birthright. Slaves to tradition, expectation and law.
But she clears her mind of that and steadies her nerves. They left at different times, so Klaude could get the priest and so he wouldn't see her in her wedding dress until it is time - a strange tradition that is apparently important in his country and on the mainland generally.
He says it is bad luck though goddess knows why. Though Arwen supposes she will just have to get used to the culture differences if she is to live on the mainland.
But now Arwen has arrived at the meeting place, a pretty cliff to the south of Umbra. Not by Ondina's Cove, that is too obvious for it's Arwen usual spot that Cierra knows of.
Here is a remote place that few even know of. It will just be her, Klaude and the priest who will conduct the ceremony; Klaude paid him handsomely for the service and even more to keep quiet about it.
They didn't risk a priestess, they would likely go straight to High Priestess Corra but a priest is more easily persuaded, for they are so rare and not allowed to worship and conduct business in the temples across the island like the priestesses, so they usually have no loyalty to the High Priestess on this matriarchal island and not many particularly like High Priestess Corra, one of the most unpopular high priestesses for decades.
Arwen takes a few steps forward hesitantly, just coming to a ridge and when she steps below it she will finally see her husband to be. Letting the fresh air from the sea fill her lungs she takes some deep breathes, stepping over the ridge and looking around at the serene scenery before her.
At the brown and green earth beneath her feet, keeping her grounded in all her joy - all the viridescent vegetation surrounds her, grass, clovers, ferns, every manner of plant that are entwined with the several thousand flowers which lay casually across the greenery in so many variations colours.Marigolds. Azures. Magentas. They are radiant and ablaze with colour, with life - so rare for Umbra, the city of shadows and darkness.
There are even those plants of the most brilliant dark - nightshade flowers, those native to Umbra, the Breccia Domain and the Black Cottage only. They are special to shadows, it is only appropriate that they are here for a shadow queen's wedding, the first in eons - sometimes Arwen forgets that she is technically a phenomenon.
Looking forward Arwen almost cries as she can't contain her beaming smile at seeing the makeshift aisle Klaude surely created prior to her arrival. The most dainty white flowers are dotted before her in a clear path towards him. Towards her fiancé, Klaude Vale. White to match her beautiful dress and because it is her favourite colour.
He hasn't seen her yet, perhaps the wind has deafened him to her footsteps. But it only takes a few moments more for him to turn around. And his jaw to drop ever so slightly much to her satisfaction as the warmest smile etches itself onto his face as his blue eyes just watch her move closer to him, with such overwhelming emotion there as bold as brass.
Arwen has never seen him say so little but have such evident emotion there, no charms and deceptions this time. Just his pure emotions. For her.
Klaude looks at Arwen like she is what he has been searching for his entire life, like she is some sort of saviour sent down to be his salvation, his hope, the only thing that matters to him. No one could ever deny his love for her. And hers for him. Such young lovers, such uncontrollable emotions and passions.
Arwen can barely stop smiling as her black eyes look at his bright blue ones and she keeps walking down the flowery aisle towards their spot. Not exactly by the edge of the cliff, further forward that that but she can still see the sheer stony limestone rock carved into the cliff when it comes to the rough vertical drop of them. Such ancient parts of nature. They have probably been there since the rise of the first queen of Fennbirn.
But ignoring the cliff she turns her eyes back to him, she has nearly reached him now, carrying but a single white rose that Klaude gave to her earlier in the day as he kissed her and rode off to get the priest and arrive at their wedding place before her.
Arwen is certainly beautiful in black, the colour of queens, the colour she always wears.
But today, in white, she is ethereal.
Some lighter version of the Goddess made anew in mortal bones, some heavenly creature that Klaude will follow anywhere. Her dress is so long, of the purest and brightest white even if the hem drags along the floor, darkening slightly as it caresses the earth with Arwen's every step. But that doesn't bother her. She welcomes the earth's embrace.
Her dress is made up of exquisite ivory lace with an open v neck shape on her pale smooth back and the dress has beautiful long sleeves embroidered in a flowery shape. Perhaps that is too naturalist like. But Arwen doesn't care, she has thought before that she would've liked to have been a naturalist.The flower shapes are beautiful and the dress is so stunning, another gift from Klaude who had it commissioned in secret.
No queen has ever got married on the island in a white wedding dress. Such a strange colour for a wedding but Arwen doesn't mind.
Her hair is loose, cascading down her bare back apart from the front two pieces of her hair that have been taken and plaited around the back, white pearls weaved in.
Arwen did those herself, stealing a few pearls from Ebony's dresser. She will return to them later though Ebony would likely never notice with the hoard of jewels in her personal collection.
But for today she just wants everything to be perfect. And for one of the first times she feels completely happy, content and beautiful.
She has nearly reached him now and has almost forgotten there was even a priest. A middle aged balding man who is very thin and short, dressed in simple modest brown clothes with a dire expression crinkled on his face.
But she doesn't spend much time looking at the priest before turning back to Klaude he hasn't stopped staring at her the minute he saw her. He still has the awe struck expression in his face and eyes. Those beautiful eyes Arwen has grown so fond of.
He is dressed beautifully yet simply as well in a fancy black suit with intricate gold along the hem of his sleeves. It is well cut to him, Klaude isn't overly muscly but he is both tall and lean, moving with a certain grace that he has no doubt learnt from his family, the Valostran royals. His dark blonde hair is still short with a slight wave, exactly how it's always been.
After a moment more, Arwen realises that he is wearing the clothes he first met her in at the ball at Draven Mansion. It almost makes her want to cry and laugh at the nostalgia, where she first met the love of her life even though back then she didn't realise and she disliked him at first. So many months ago but it feels like yesterday.
She has reached him now, his hand is outstretched and Arwen puts her hand in his without hesitation, theirs both entwining together like two vines of the same beautiful flower. Twin souls.
She looks at the priest for a moment who gives a tight lipped smile as he begins reading from a book, all the boring he necessary things that an island wedding entails.
Arwen zones out for a moment, still feeling Klaude's hand in hers as she gives him a side glance which he catches as he gives her a small smile which she returns.
The priest brings forth two chalices with the traditional wine of the ceremony. Arwen is slightly excited for shadows rarely drink anything other than their nightshade wine. This wine is likely straight from the grapes in Wolf Spring, ripened to perfection and flavoured by them as well.
As she takes her chalice she looks down at it. The wine is a dark red. A traditional colour for the rest of the island she's told. Taking a glance at Klaude as he takes a sip of his she does the same.
She feels a little more merry as she hands the chalice back after a few sips and watches the priest as he picks them both up and places them on the small table behind him as he picks up his book yet again.
"Queen Arwen do you promise to be faithful to Klaude till the end of yours days?" The priest asks and she nods, putting her hand on top of Klaude's in tradition as the priest starts to tie the binding knot around their wrists.
"And Klaude do you promise to be faithful to Queen Arwen till the end of your days?" He asks and Klaude nods, looking at Arwen with such wonder and the priest completes the binding knot.
"Then I pronounce you wife and husband," the priest finishes, bowing again as he flushes. It is quite a knot under his belt. To have married a queen of the island. Not a queen crowned but still. Only priestesses have ever done such a thing.
They turn to each other then, hugging at first as they i loop the binding knot, Arwen even putting it around his neck to pull him closer to her as they finally share a kiss. Something so simple yet meaningful.
Their first kiss as wife and husband.
As Arwen pulls away she is still all smiles, barely believing it as she stares at Klaude. Her husband. Hers forever. It is almost too good to believe.
The priest takes little time to pack his things, no doubt ready to leave the newlyweds to have time on their own. He bows nervously once more and scarpers off quickly.
And Arwen makes sure to thank him again and pay him extra for both his trouble and his discretion. It would not do well for word of his ceremony to fall into the wrong hands.
They barely notice the priest leave as they simply hold each other. His hands on her waist and hers around his neck, dancing slowly. It didn't matter that they didn't have grand orchestras or music. They just appreciated being together with the fresh wind in their hair as they clung to each other's embrace.
"I love you," Arwen says
And Klaude laughs lightly at her abrupt tone, "well I'd hope so seeing as we've just pledged to spend our lives together."
That makes her smile as she leans her head away from his chest and stares at his eyes. Those enchanting blue eyes.
"Our whole lives, our lives on the mainland," Arwen says almost in wonder, "I can still hardly believe it, that we are going to leave tomorrow."
Klaude nods, "I feel the same, we're leaving all our duties and responsibilities behind and that terrifies me, but nothing terrifies me more than the thought of losing you."
Arwen kisses him lightly at that, "you've always been such a romantic, no wonder I was seduced by you."
"The fact you resisted my charms initially was rather impressive," Klaude agrees drily and then looks at her with a wink, "that's when I knew you were the one."
Arwen snorts a little at that, "good to know that even marriage doesn't dampen your classic corny lines."
"Corny?" He says, raising an eyebrow as they continue to slowly sway, "more like irresistible."
"Though not nearly as irresistible as you my darling wife," he says, batting his eyelashes mockingly as he spins her around making her giggle.They barely notice the lack of music, for they themselves make the atmosphere perfect.
"Say that again," Arwen says and he crinkles his brow in slight confusion.
"What?" He says, "darling?"
"No," she says smiling, pinching his arm slightly
He considers for a moment before dropping his mock act of confusion, "ah I see, wife, my wife whom I love very much."
She grins, "and I love you too, husband."
"I see now why you wanted me to repeat the wife thing, for hearing you call me husband is strangely satisfying,"'he says and she just smiles in return as he spins her around.
A casual day for a casual wedding. With them dancing as if they had all the time in the world. And they did.
For the mist of Fennbirn no longer held the island in its ominous grip, the Goddess had no way to hold Arwen here. And she will lose all she has ever known, her gift, family like Ebony, and Umbra. But it is worth it. Ebony will survive, the only Raduron she gives a damn about. Perhaps she can even help quell Cierra's inevitable rage long enough for Arwen and Klaude to disappear forever.
Cierra would surely send people to hunt her down but Arwen will never let herself by a victim to that woman again. If she has to run for ever she will, if only Klaude runs by her side as well.
"You have no idea how much I want you right now," Klaude says and Arwen blushes as he caresses her cheek, still new to this open love and relationship they have now, "but alas, it may be a bit suspicious if we rented out a room just for that," he smirks as she shakes her head with amusement, "and besides, I'll have all the time on the mainland to make it up to you, wife."
"I won't let you forget that, husband," she says, being a little sultry in her tone, she is getting more confident gradually, more bold and she loves it.
This new person she has become with him. A person she has always dreamed of becoming and now she is leaving Cierra and the terrors of her childhood behind she finally can.
He kisses her at that, just once. Slowly and tenderly which somehow makes it all the more meaningful than a flurry of rough, turbulent kisses.
But they have time to delve into all that. Time is a precious commodity and Arwen doesn't intend on wasting it, she makes a small vow in her head, that her life begins truly from this moment and onwards. Her memories today and any future ones is what she will cherish when she grows old, when Klaude grows old.
She has no clue if she will be able to conceive on the mainland, just a discarded queen with a weakened gift, not even a queen crowned. Who knows. But that is a question for another day.
For now she enjoys the moment as she leans her head against his chest, still swaying slowly in the faint spring breeze.
They stay like that for a good while until Klaude pulls back, chuckling after he hears the rumblings of Arwen's stomach and she laughs with him.
"Is my wife hungry?" He asks mockingly as Arwen rolls her eyes, walking towards their small table they brought with a few bits they'd stolen from the kitchen.
With a small fork she starts picking at the seasoned new potatoes, with all her wedding blues she can't believe she actually forgot to eat this morning. No wonder she feels like this.
Chewing far too quickly Arwen doesn't bother to turn around as she asks Klaude,
"Do you want anything?"
When she doesn't get an answer she turns around to face him, waiting for a reply but his face has gone completely blank as if he is in shock. Strange.
"What's wrong?" She asks as he starts moving unsteadily towards her and she sets her food down.
That's when she notices.
And her face falls gradually from a smile into concern when she sees the first drop of blood leak from his nose and Klaude sway slightly as he stops trying to come over to her. It's just a nosebleed she reassures herself. It has to be.
She walks over to him to ask him if he is alright again. But that is when the blood starts pouring out faster.
From his nose, down to his mouth, staining his finery and his neck in thin tendrils of crimson.
A split second later he falls to the ground.
Arwen starts panicking as she sprints over to him, falling to the ground as well. His hand instinctively grabs hers, interlinking them together - their wedding rings now cold against each other's touches.
"I will fetch a healer," Arwen says as she struggles to stay composed, holding his head in her lap, her hands shaking as she nods to reassure both herself as tears start falling, "it will be alright, it will be alright, you will be alright my love."
It takes Klaude great effort but he shakes his head slightly, his own eyes bore into hers with such intensity, such a keen sight.
Like he is emblazoning and sculpting all her features into his mind's eye with as much intricate detail as he could possibly do, like an artist admiring his masterpiece.
Like he is doing is best to remember her. Her face. Her hair. Just her. His wife. Klaude is determined to remember her and this day, for it is still his wedding day, however dire the circumstances have become.
"No," he manages to say as his tone grows weaker to Arwen's horror as she almost shakes him a little bit which doesn't affect him at all and he just continues to stare at her, his breathing slowing as blood begins trickling from his mouth to permeate with the blood from his nose.
"Yes," Arwen counters to him, her voice sporadic and fraught, her hands shaking uncontrollable as she cups his voice, "it will be alright, it will be alright."
Arwen makes to bolt up but with all the strength he has Klaude holds onto her arm, shaking his head with the little strength he has left,
"Stay," he whispers.
The tone makes Arwen pause and she turns back towards him, such hesitation and angst in her eyes. Klaude has no such fears in his eyes. Not anymore. He simply glances at her and smiles, as if nothing is wrong. Breathing as much as he can. His heart struggling to keep on. But that doesn't matter to him anymore.
His heart is entwined with hers after all, it will continue to live through her in a sense. Forever. He only regrets that he must leave her to this unjust world. She has difficult times ahead. But he knows that she is strong. He is terrified of the unknown that he will soon be welcomed into because he will be without her.
"Stay strong my love, stay with me, I need you, I can't do this without you," Arwen says shakily, trying to smile with optimism as she looks down at him, "I need you Klaude, don't leave me." Her voice breaks at that as she keeps crying uncontrollably, still caressing his face.
He doesn't answer at first, no words of his can possibly reassure her so he just glances up at her, desperately clinging to the image of her. Those black eyes and perfect raven hair he's grown to love along with her slender nose and full lips. Even crying as she is now she is still beautiful.
"Such beauty you have brought me," he murmurs, almost wistful as he smiles up at her, barely feeling her tears splash on his face or the blood pouring from both his nose and mouth.
For the world is stilling for him and although it is terrifying he feels a certain peace so he looks for the last time up at Arwen and the skies above.
And his souls then simply drift away into the Goddess' embrace.
"It will be alright, it will be alright," she keeps repeating, almost in a daze as she still holds him in her arms, barely noticing how cold he has become in her own whirlpool of agony and sorrow, "Klaude tell me it will be alright" she says desperately almost pleading as she stares down at him again. Properly looking at him.
It is at that point that Arwen has a slight inclination of what has now happened.
Truly notices that his chest has stopped moving and that his eyes have stopped blinking. Now those beautiful soft blue eyes have gone glassy and cold, permanently staring up.
The haunting ghost of his last small smile still dances on his face along with those stains of blood tarnishing his skin. This is not Klaude anymore. Not her love or her husband that she still holds desperately onto - now he's simply a corpse. A body.
Dead.
But she cannot recognise that and she doesn't want to.
His life has been taken with such facility, as easily as a candle blown out in the wind, or one smothered into nothing but smoke and decay.
But she cannot accept it. No. This cannot be happening. Not when they were about to have their happy ending. Not on their damned wedding day.
But staring down at his face, absent of all sadness, sorrow, joy and otherwise how can she deny the stone cold truth that has arrived on swift wings to greet her.
That on the day they were bound for life his light was stolen while her wretched soul remains, tarnished forever. Left with heartbreak, misery and anguish.
She feels that now too, that instant grief that tears into her like a pack of unrelenting dispassionate beasts, demolishing her and utterly destroying her.
This pain is worse. So much worse than any type of physical pain Cierra inflicted on her. She would rather be cut over and over again, have the humiliations, the shame, the anger, the damned abuse that Cierra had inflicted on her for over a decade then feel this.
This. These waves of utter despair, these weapons of dejection that consume her worthless existence.
And Arwen simply screams. And screams.
Until her voice becomes hoarse. Until she cannot hear herself think.
It is a sound of utter desolation as it tears through the air, a soaring arrowhead of torment, melancholy and despair.
And when she screams again, her cries echo all around as black veins crawl up her neck and arms, quickly spreading to the rest of her body as her powers are entirely unleashed.
Shadows erupt from her, spreading and staining all the greenery a dark obsidian. It is lucky that it is such a remote place. For anyone within distance would've been torn apart by her malignant shadows. But she doesn't care. She isn't thinking about that.
The shadows race all around her, the explosion of them travelling all across Umbra, coating the entire border with pure shadow power as Arwen's gifts unwittingly become a barrier that seals Umbra from Fennbirn. A display unlike anything else.
At her outburst the very grass and nature around and under her recoils back in sadness and a little fear. Of her. Of the power they felt.
And there she contemplates simply dying as she catches sight of the cliff's edge. She could throw herself off, perishing completely - to join Klaude. For what is life without him? He is her life. He was her life.
There is nothing left. Nothing without love, nothing without him.
She is alone. Alone. Alone. Alone.
Cursed. Condemned. Damned.
She doesn't need to be sight gifted to know that has been her fate all along and she is a fool for having thought otherwise. For thinking that she could escape. Or ever truly be happy.
Still as she holds him, still cradling his head gently against her she clings to the echoes of that optimism, that love, that happiness. However brief or fleeting. There were moments. And Klaude was in every one of them.
And now he's dead, soon to decay and wither away into dust and bones. It is her fault and she just sobs, still clutching desperately onto him.
"Come back to me," Arwen says with such anguish and anger as her voice keeps breaking and she looks up towards the sky, "bring him back," she demands as her time grows louder, more desperate and feral, "bring him back!"
But her screams and demands into the air do nothing as the Goddess stays silent, leaving her prayers and pleas of desperation unanswered, leaving her to mourn without the possibilities of hope.
Every stone, tree, flower and even the wind keep their eyes on her transfixed at the horrors that have unfolded. They watch as Queen Arwen turns away from looking above to looking down, continuing to caress her lover's face in the hopes he will somehow wake.
A horrific sight to be sure. A tear stained blotted red face staring down at a vacant cold pale face. Both of them drenched in blood, even their wedding rings, still on their entwined hands, are both tarnished with scarlet drops.
"I can't feel you anymore," Arwen whispers weakly, her voice breaking, her own hand still in his as her tears drop on them.
She can't bring herself to pry it away, even though his hand has gone cold and is no longer squeezing hers. She still clasps it, hoping she will feel something. Anything.
But she does not. She feels nothing. Only the blizzard of harsh reality but still she does not get up, does not move. Just stays with him. Imagining his voice in her head. Over and over so she doesn't forget the precise tenor that always brought her comfort.
Fresh red stains now coat Queen Arwen's bodice and skirts, everything. It makes feel sick at that coppery smell that blood has. That stench that lurks all around the cliff, such a beautiful place, now marred irrevocably with death.
And her wedding dress, once white and pure - a symbol of their happiness and love, has transformed into something else entirely.
Perhaps it is the Goddess' idea of a cruel joke to have crimson be the colour associated with death on the island and for Arwen to be covered in it, unable to escape its dark grip as it taints her very skin, her very essence.
Red. Red. Red.
Her wedding dress has something else now.
A dress for a funeral.