I can't let go when something's broken. It's all I know and it's all I want to know.
~)(~
It was honestly worse than I ever thought. Last night this dress was... a blob of white—but now that it sat on my figure, it looked like the worst attempt at fashion I'd ever seen.
It was just a big puffy cloud of lace and tulle with the most conservative square neckline ever imagined. The sleeves hooked over my middle fingers, the satin tightly bound to my arms, constricting my movements. The skirt consisted of hundreds of petticoats and underlinings, all covered by a bedazzled, pearl-decorated sheet of white.
Apparently, it was supposed to represent the sea salt of my home and the pale cliffs. Cliffs made me think of something straight and tight, not puffy and big. And sea salt was coarse and scratchy, not smooth as silk. Mother above, whoever designed this obviously didn't know what they were doing.
Then there was the veil of tulle. A monstrous pile of it, so long I found it hilariously absurd. It was all topped with a million pins holding my hair in the wildest of curl patterns. Braids held everything against my scalp so tight that it hurt to move my neck.
I stood in the mirror and brushed a stray hair out of my face while Nalia flattened the hem of the skirt. She looked up at me for the fiftieth time and stood. "Stop fidgeting."
"I look ridiculous," I said, huffing a sigh as I turned around and stepped off the stool. The skirts rustled like sandpaper and made me shiver at the sound.
Nalia laughed. "You do not. You look... different, that's all."
"I look like an overgrown sheep." I slammed my fists against the sides of the skirts and ended up losing my arms in the fabric. "This whole thing is one massive gathering of hot, itchy fabric that will make me want to scream."
Nalia took my hands and held them tight as she turned me to face her. She smiled slightly and said, "You will be alright, I promise. It's just a stupid dress that you only need to wear today."
I huffed a sigh. "When this is over, help me burn this thing."
She cackled at that and threw her head back as it rang from her like a bell, contagious enough for me to laugh with her. She sighed and said, "Of course, we'll dance around the fire in our nightgowns and drink wine as we watch it burn."
"Sounds fun to me. I could use a drink."
Nalia shook her head with a laugh and handed me the bouquet of even more explosive glamor. "I'm sure that, in the years after, you will look back on this time and laugh at its... stupidity."
"I will indeed."
There was a knock at the door, which drained every ounce of joy from the room in an instant. "I did as you told. I hid the dagger under the bed—left side," Nalia whispered to me as she looked at the door. Her eyes glistened over as she breathed in deeply.
I squeezed her hands tighter. "Thank you."
She nodded slowly and forced a smile, before gathering the trail of fabric and saying, "Now, let's get this over with."
The door opened, and I lifted the skirts so I could actually walk out of the room. As the dress brushed against the stone walls, it made rustling and scratching sounds while catching on the ground. The heels clanked on the ground and were already pinching my toes and making me walk with a slight limp.
The process of trying to turn in these tight halls was in itself a scientific venture. I would have to stop in the middle of the turn and spin slowly while Nalia followed behind with the rest of the skirts. Then everything would have to be adjusted, so it wasn't twisted around me before we could move onward.
When we eventually made it to the closed doors of the great hall, I felt my mouth go dry as a bone. For a second, I thought I was going to throw up, or that I was going to collapse. I could hear the people on the other side and wondered just how many of them would be there to witness a rushed arranged wedding.
The doors opened slowly, painfully slowly. They creaked and slid across the ground to reveal a room decorated in white and green. There were a lot more people than I expected.
I knew that a few nobility had arrived the night before, but didn't think so many would be there. Some of the lords' faces I hadn't seen in decades. Many of them were completely unfamiliar.
My knees locked, and my lungs contracted and tightened within me. I couldn't seem to think—to do anything but stare with widened eyes at the room. I pinched my hand hidden beneath the bouquet—not dreaming. This wasn't a nightmare, it was real.
Nalia gently pushed her hand against my back to make me move, which I did. However much I hated it, I walked with needles in my feet. Everyone watched me like magnets, making my back shiver with a crawling feeling.
The room was decorated very simply. White curtains took the place of the brown ones, flowers were wrapped around the sides of the seats, and a red rug pointed me towards the dais where the priestess was standing behind a lectern.
Theorin looked like he was about to fall asleep standing up—and I was convinced he was very drunk by the way he swayed slightly from one foot to the other. Then there was my uncle, who stood studying me closely for any hint of disobedience.
I held my head high and carefully walked up the steps without looking down at my feet. The dress rustled around me, the train catching slightly on the stairs. I didn't care if it ripped—perhaps a few scratches would make it look better.
Nalia took my flowers so I could do as the priestess instructed and hold Theorin's hands. They were clammy and cold—was he ill? I hoped not. That would be humiliating for me.
The priestess started talking in a loud voice that woke Theorin up and made my ears ring a little. "Marriage is what brings us here today, from the four corners of the world. It is the bounding of names and blood, the oldest of traditions."
She had us tie our hands loosely with a red cloth. My heartbeat quickened as the seconds ticked. In minutes, I was going to be married. The priestess walked around the lectern and lifted a golden chalice, which she showed to the entire room.
"The blood of our creator—with it, we bond our hearts as one." She walked back around the lectern and looked at us. "You will perform your duties as one."
Theorin and I repeated those words back to her, not entirely as one.
"Now, drink the Mother's blood and pledge yourselves to each other," she instructed.
Slowly, she lifted the cup to Theorin's lips, and he drank with his eyes closed, his brows furrowing in disgust. Then it was brought to me.
The pungent smell of alcohol burned my nose. The dark red wine glistened in the cup and looked thick, like it had been sitting out for decades too long.
I opened my mouth and pressed my bottom lip to the rim of the glass. The priestess slowly tilted it, and my breath fanned back over my face.
The doors of the hall banged open with a force that made the windows rattle. Everyone turned their heads to the intrusion, including me. My head whipped around so fast that the chalice almost slipped out of the priestess' hands.
A male brushed off his sleeves and iron chest plate before he looked up and surveyed the room. It was not a fae standing there, but a mortal—and not just any mortal.
"Sorry to interrupt this depressing ceremony," Jurian said, stepping further into the room. "But you have something of ours—and I'd like it very much if you'd give them back."
I couldn't help but grin as I sucked in a breath and looked at him. He winked back at me and then turned his attention to the king, who walked in front of Theorin and me. My uncle pointed at him and demanded the guards seize him.
As they moved from the corners of the room, the windows shattered open, spilling shards of glass across the aisles. People screamed and ran from their seats. I looked up at the large windows and gasped.
The room darkened as the candlelight flickered with shadows across the walls. The windows were now covered with darkness. Black night glimmering with starlight slithered into the room. In seconds, the soldiers that ran for Jurian turned to dust. Literally disappeared in the wind, dropping armor and swords that clanged against the stone floor.
He wiped invisible dust from his sleeve and smiled at the king. I couldn't help but laugh at his bravery—which earned some very concerned looks.
I turned back to the priestess and Theorin, then tried to get my hands away from him. The fabric slipped off, but he held onto my wrists. I thrashed around and nearly fell down the stairs as I tried to get away from him. He wouldn't let me go. His nails dug into my skin and drew blood as they clawed.
The High Lord moved around the dais to assist and tripped on the train of my skirt. I looked down with surprise when he lifted his head from the ground with a bloody nose. Mother above, this day was going splendidly.
I shouted at Theorin to let me go, but he didn't. He kept pulling me back as the priestess dropped the chalice and winnowed in a puff of smoke. The wine splattered on the hem of my dress and spilled over the steps. The smell of alcohol was now burning my nose so much that tears welled in my eyes.
A dagger landed in Theorin's hand. Blood splattered across my fingers as he let me go and I stumbled down the stairs, my skirt cushioning my fall. Jurian had thrown his knife at Theorin, his hand still outstretched when I ran into him. I hissed a breath at the pinching in my shoes and turned around to grab Nalia by the arm.
The High Lord grabbed me by the upper arm and pulled me away from them. Before Jurian could pull out his sword, and before Nalia could react, I clenched my fist and brought it straight to the Lord's chin.
The popping sound was louder than expected. Blood spat from his nose again, and he stumbled backward and fell. His wife let out a shriek and ran down the dais to him. Nalia pulled my arm and laughed.
It all happened so fast. More guards poured into the room from side entrances, only to meet with the soldiers that piled in from the front entrance. Soldiers, both human and fae, clashed swords with my uncle's men. It grew bloody very quickly.
Amarantha pointed at us and shouted for someone to stop us. Her eyes were flaming as she watched Jurian.
"Time to go," Jurian said before he grabbed my hand and started pulling me and Nalia with him toward the exit. I tripped over my skirts that ripped, my veil falling away and taking with it the pins that kept my hair up.
Jurian slammed the doors shut behind him and locked them with the wooden beam just seconds before the doors rattled with banging. From the adjacent hall, a group of soldiers started towards us. Great, not even a second for a pause before chaos ensues.
Jurian turned to us and said, "Go, run—I'll meet you outside." He tipped his head, pulled out his sword with a hiss, and started running down the opposite end to lead the group away.
Nalia pushed me in front of her, and we continued running down the hall. I ran into walls at turns and banged my shoulder into doors to get them open. My shoes kicked off as we ran downstairs, and I was able to run much faster now.
Nalia laughed like a bell and said as we hurried through the halls, "That was amazing."
"It's all a blur, really," I said, smiling at her.
We turned another corner, and she tripped on my dress. "Cauldron boil, how can you even walk in such a thing?"
"I can't."
"Well, I will tell everyone I meet from now on that you punched the High Lord of Spring in the jaw—the chin. You knocked him out."
I cackled and held my hand to my chest as I took in a breath. "I didn't think I would hit him that hard."
"Well, I'm glad you did."
From the end of one hall, the door opened and a soldier walked through. We skidded to a halt and stared at him. He furrowed his brows and said, "What are you—you're not supposed to be here."
"We are going for a walk... before I escort her to... the bedchambers," Nalia said, entwining her elbow with mine.
The guard didn't seem convinced. "I shall walk with you."
"You shall do no such thing. We are perfectly fine to walk on our own," Nalia said, her voice firm this time.
A few moments passed before he started walking towards us, saying, "Perhaps I shall bring you to the king." Shit.
What to do, what to do. I had no weapon on me besides my fists, which wouldn't work well against a sword—if he'd draw it. The flames flickered against the wall—I had an idea.
I ripped a sconce off the wall, taking with it bricks of stone—I forgot how strong I was. The guard stopped in his path and looked at me with total confusion. "Princess?"
"We are leaving," I said.
He placed a hand on his sword. "This is treasonous."
"Is it now? I wasn't aware that running from my own wedding was treasonous. Thank you for the lesson."
I swung the sconce at him, only to be met with his sword. He was fast enough to react—which I found impressive. Most of these guards were more idiotic than pigs.
Nalia shoved him to the side and I brought the sconce down over his head once, twice. His body stilled, but he was breathing. Blood slid down his temple. Not dead—hopefully.
Nalia laughed and said, "That was insane."
"We'll be able to celebrate later. Come on," I said, grabbing her hand and pulling her along.
From behind us, there was a commotion. I looked over my shoulder and saw Amarantha turning the corner. Dammit. She was alone, though, blood splattered on her face. Her eyes were wild with focus on us. She looked like a beast on the hunt.
I pushed Nalia through the door and followed. We only had to run across this empty room to the large doors before we'd be outside. Not into the courtyard, but the side of the keep. There we would follow the path to the lake.
The doors banged open, Nalia tripped with a cry, and Amarantha laughed wickedly. From the exit I saw someone walk in—Azriel. Just the sight of him took away my breath. He was here.
That was short-lived when I turned to see Nalia on the ground, blood on her skirt. A dagger stuck out of her thigh. The crimson liquid soaked a circle in her dress.
I looked up at Amarantha, who was staring past me at the shadow standing in the doorway. She hissed at him, showing her fangs. Azriel pulled out his sword from where it was sheathed against his spine, staring at her with a predator's look.
His gaze snapped to mine for only a second—but it was a second long enough to make me act. I skidded between them and grabbed Nalia, then pulled her to the edge of the room. A line of blood followed where her body moved.
Another second passed before the two were at each other's throats. Amarantha's red hair was fire around her face as she blocked his advance and spun into a duck to attempt gutting him. Before her sword met the leather, Azriel disappeared in smoke and reappeared behind her. But she was ready for it and spun back around to meet him.
Nalia cupped her ears and silently wept. I pulled up the layers of tulle and ripped along the hem of a petticoat. With the background noise of metal slamming and growls of beasts, it was all very frightening and stressful—to say the least. The dagger was just above her knee, causing her to keep it permanently bent. I wrapped the ribbon of fabric tightly around her thigh to slow the bleeding.
There was a loud banging sound, and I turned to see nothing but darkness. Azriel's shadows had pounced around them to obscure himself. I could hear Amarantha shouting for him to reveal himself and give her a proper fight. She was truly insane.
In a breath, the shadows vanished to the corners. Azriel was now standing behind her, a dagger pressed to her throat. Amarantha grinned widely, showing her sharp canines.
She looked over to where I tightened the fabric around the dagger and stared at me with hollow eyes. The eyes of a monster, of a killer. It made the blood drain from my face.
"Enjoy your freedom while it lasts," she said, laughing. Before Azriel could slice her throat, she winnowed away, the echo of her laugh still bouncing off the walls.
I turned my attention back to Nalia, who gritted her teeth as her hand shakily hovered over the impalement. In moments, Azriel was at my side. He took her hand off the wound and said to her, "Don't pull it out until we have a healer. Come on, help me pick her up."
I helped her slowly rise from the ground without putting any pressure on the leg, which she held so it was elevated. Azriel picked her up like she weighed nothing and had me wrap the dagger in a ripped bit of fabric from my dress. The fabric circling the blade would help with the bleeding—probably.
We exited the building, the blistering bright sun hitting us immediately. Azriel led us down the hillside to a grouping of trees, where I was surprised to find a hidden war camp. It wasn't anything like a typical camp. There were only four hastily put up tents where healers awaited soldiers who were injured and winnowed over. The focus of everyone was to heal and provide aid.
We went into a tent where three other soldiers were being attended to. Azriel laid Nalia down on the table and the healer walked over to examine the stab wound. My face grew cold as I watched them slowly remove the knife while their hand hovered over and healed the skin.
I stepped out of the tent to get some air. The white of my gown was probably a very confusing sight here, where there was only the brown of mud and red of blood. Eventually, I would get this horrible thing off.
Someone called my name from a different tent. They weaved through the trees and came up to me—Miryam. She took my hands in her dirty ones and grinned. "You're here—Mother above, I missed you."
I laughed and hugged her, not caring if the blood and dirt on her clothes smeared onto mine. "It's wonderful to see you—are you doing well?"
"Wonderful, Jurian has been... taking good care of me." Miryam smiled with cheeks the slightest shade of pink.
I raised a brow. "It seems like there is much to catch up on."
Before she could respond, she was interrupted when a new person joined our little conversation. Jurian sighed like he had just run a mile and said, "See, I told you I would meet you when it was over. Where's your friend?"
I pointed behind me at the tent. "She is being tended to." Just then, Azriel stepped out. I turned to him and said, "Is she alright?"
"Very. Everything is back to normal, though the healer wants to watch her a little longer—she lost a good amount of blood."
"That's good to hear," Miryam said, smiling slightly. "You are alright, though?"
I raised my brows in surprise at the question. "Me? Oh, I'm fine. I just need to burn this dress in a bonfire and watch my uncle get his head chopped off. Otherwise, I'm doing splendidly."
The others looked at me with worry and confusion at my words—except Jurian. Jurian simply grinned and hid his laugh in a cough. That was the thing I liked best about him, he had a wonderful sense of humor.
-Authors Note-
I had to put a little—just a little reference to my favorite movie. if you know you know
anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, really wanted to let it be a bit lighter of content cause recently I've been writing dark stuff and I want a change of scenery (sorry to your future self)
I'll try posting next chapter by the end of this week cause I'm very behind and there's this growing ocean between where I'm publishing and where I'm writing and its confusing me :,)
anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter and have a great rest of your day/week and I'll see you next chapter!! thanks for reading!