The hollow pitter patter of rain on the canvas drew Leanna from the blackness of sleep. Her lids fluttered open. Above, shadowy marionettes waved across the ceiling, swaying a secret dance between threads of amber light. A few more blinks and their outline defined into the many butterfly wings of Ellie's tent. Leanna let out a slow breath and settled back into the pillows, her body suddenly heavy... and aware. Something had happened. Of that her throbbing mind was sure. Her limbs ached with this knowledge. But... what?
Leanna frowned. In searching her thoughts, there was only fog. She lolled her head sideways onto the pillow, toward the hearth across the room. Maybe the pure fire there would dispel this haziness in her mind.
The fog remained, but breathless, Leanna clutched the blankets as the sight before the flames burned at her composure. Damp hair tied back in a loose pony tail, undone cravat and mud speckled boots—Finvarra was there.
Leanna pressed her lips together, tears pricking her eyes. The desire to run to him, to touch him... heavens, just to feel him safe beneath her hands was overwhelming. In all her anger, in all the horrible things she'd learned of his past, it was the memory of him vanishing into the mist, the thought of never seeing him again that hollowed her soul.
Minerva sat opposite him, knitting at the winged back chair. Though the needles in her hand moved at a steady pace, pulling loop through loop, her face was turned up toward Finvarra who gazed down at the fire, his mind distant with thought.
"She will feel some lingering effects," she said to him. "But it's nothing a few hours of sleep can't fix."
Finvarra's shoulders rose and fell with a slow breath, as if not wanting to disturb the air with his exhale. He said nothing.
Minerva sighed, and her needles paused mid-loop. "Though her heart was weak, it has grown stronger... she has grown stronger," she said, her voice stern as if willing him to understand. "Do not fear for her. It will do none of us any good."
The muscles of Finvarra's jaw tightened, but he kept to his silence. Lowering blue eyes from the fire, he looked to his hand. Dangling from his pale fingers was a crystal necklace.
As if hypnotized by this glinting pendulum, Leanna froze. Images of crabs and poisonous needles tore through the fog in her mind, chased by memories of falling pixies and necklaces. Her heart pounded. Something had happened, indeed!
Minerva turned round at once. Meeting Leanna's gaze, she set aside her knitting and rose. A smile curved her lips, though sadness haunted her once stoic black eyes.
The movement snatched Finvarra from his daze. Blue eyes fixed on Leanna's instantly. And around them, the world failed to turn. She didn't breathe. Neither did he. Finvarra only slid his sights along her, slowly, as if wishing to ascertain her well-being with one look. Meeting her eyes again, he stared, eyes alit with strength. But beneath his mask, was worry... worry for her. Warmth radiated from Leanna's core, swelling in her chest.
Minerva sat on the edge of the bed, the dip in the mattress nudging at Leanna's attention. "How are you feeling?" she spoke between their stares. She brushed an errant strand from Leanna's forehead. "Does anything hurt?"
Leanna shook her head. She regretted it instantly. Torn from the calming blue of Finvarra's stare, the world waved before her eyes though, beneath her, it remained soft and still. "My head," she rasped. "But just a little."
"Good, good." Minerva swallowed. "And your feet... Your arms... Can you feel them?"
Worry threaded Minerva's voice, and it pricked Leanna's skin. She had indeed fallen—from a great height at that. Hesitantly, Leanna willed her fingers to flex. An answering crack from her joints resounded. Minerva nodded encouragingly, black eyes focused on the two lumps of her feet under the blanket. Leanna extended one and then the other. Minerva smiled at the moving mounds, and settled back with a relieved sigh. At the fireplace, Finvarra's shoulders lowered with a slow exhale and he turned away, his reaction a secret between him and the fire.
"You had quite a fall," Minerva revealed, patting Leanna's hand. "Thankfully, Yelena arrived in time. Had she not liquefied the earth beneath you, this would have all ended very badly." Standing, she aided Leanna in sitting up. "It's always good to have a Merrow around, I say. Her water bending saved your life."
Leanna blinked. "Yelena is a mermaid?" Thinking back to Yelena's graceful performance, to her fluidity when dancing to Vicente's song, there was no doubt. She moved like the very ocean. Still, it was so very... magical!
A bell rung outside and Leanna grimaced, her awe shattering to pain. The echo resounded in her head as if the bell tolled right behind her eyes.
"Come in," Finvarra said just above a whisper, moving toward the tent door.
Minerva made to adjust Leanna's blanket higher, but when she touched her arm, Leanna hissed. Lifting the sleeves of her nightdress, Leanna sucked in a trembling breath. Small bruises marked her skin in tiny blotches of black and blue.
"The pixies," she asked, alarmed, "My arms—they tried to pull me back, but—" Cut off by flashes of the vicious attack, Leanna stammered, "A-are they alright? So many of them fell, and the pins were poisonous and—"
Tomas walked in, and Leanna silenced, the answer to her question marked by the solemn look on his face. Still, she kept her eyes fixed on him, refusing to believe it. Tomas would reveal something different from her fears. He just had to.
Meeting Leanna and Minerva's eyes respectfully, Tomas turned to Finvarra. "Ringmaster," he murmured and nothing more. The void of any more words sent a chill through Leanna. She fisted the sheets, tighter with each heartbeat.
When Finvarra nodded for him to continue, Tomas slowly shook his head once and lowered tired brown eyes. "We saved some, but the others... there were so many and the daggers were poisonous..."
Finvarra stiffened, extending a blink as if the pain of Tomas words sought to map his veins. He turned back to the fire, his hands curled to fists at his sides.
"No," Leanna moaned brokenly through the heaviness in her chest.
At Leanna's side, Minerva swallowed deeply and lowered her face. She reached out for Leanna's hand and gave it a tight squeeze.
Opening her mouth, Leanna found no words, only grim silence as the room grew colder with the familiar chill of death.
"Did you find it?" Finvarra asked tightly after a moment, his gaze undisturbed from the flames.
"Yes, Ringmaster. I was able to destroy it before it left the crystals. We have searched the grounds and all of the tents to see if more happened to get through, but it appears the contraption was the only one." Tomas' brows gathered, thoughtful lines marking his forehead. "The crystals still contain power, so to be honest; I don't know how it got through or how it knew we were here."
"Do you think it was the trees?" Minerva asked, pouring Leanna a glass of water at the bedside. "They are the only ones that could have known we were here."
Finvarra shook his head. "It is fall here. They have no reason to be angry with me. I didn't bring the cold."
Numb, Leanna lowered her gaze to the glass of water handed her. The surface rippled, her hands shaking at the painful truth. She caused this. Shutting her eyes, she clutched the glass tighter. If only the damned glass would shatter, digging shards into her hands, maybe then the pain of guilt wouldn't hurt so badly.
But the glass didn't break, and Leanna opened her eyes, left to absorb this truth in its entirety. She had caused this. How much more pain would she bring upon this circus?
"Well, keep looking." Finvarra turned back to Tomas. "We cannot afford another attack before we've even opened."
"Yes, Ringmaster." Tomas made instantly for the door. He stopped. "And what of Kioyo?
Leanna's head lifted at once, her stomach churning. "H-he hasn't returned yet?"
Finvarra's mouth drew to a grim line, and the temperature in the room dipped significantly. At the hearth, the fire swayed with a snap.
"Instruct the crystals to deny him entrance," Finvarra said, voice hard and fists white at his sides. "He disobeyed my orders and is not to be allowed back in."
Leanna sucked in a sharp breath. Minerva put a comforting hand at her shoulder.
"That isn't fair, Finvarra. You know this," Minerva warned, rubbing Leanna's back in cool, soothing strokes. "You're angry and will regret this."
He slid his gaze to Minerva, a stare of ice and chained fury. "If he wants to risk the lives of this circus for his foolish pride, he can risk his life as well—a fair punishment."
Leanna went pale. He really meant it to leave him out there! "He did risk his life!" she cried.
Finvarra snapped his gaze to her, and for a moment Leanna forgot how to breathe. The anger in those eyes froze her very lungs, and she was sure was if she to exhale, snowflakes would flurry from within her.
But there was a man beyond the crystals that needed her—needed her to fight for him and for his chance at snow. Leanna exhaled sharply. "Kioyo went out there trying to find Inara for the sake of this circus. You cannot punish him for trying to help!"
Blue eyes narrowed incredulously. "He left you!"
"So did you!" Leanna took a moment; the sight of him glittering behind angry tears she forbade to fall. She said in a whisper, "So did you..."
Finvarra stood deathly still, watching her. Though seeming impenetrable, those eyes grew bluer, colder... dangerous. His gaze trained on Leanna, he said, "Tomas, do as I said."
A tight nod and Tomas made for the door—
"No!" Leanna thrust aside the blankets and bolted to her feet before Minerva could stop her. In a speed birthed from desperation alone, she rushed to the door and blocked it. Anger superseded the wobble of her legs and rooted her to the wooden floor, where she declared, "Tomas, you will do no such thing!"
Tomas froze at the door. He was so much bigger than her, and Leanna had little doubt he could puff a breath and blow her away. Those kind brown eyes, however, told her he never would. Instead, he looked at her for a moment and then slid his gaze to Finvarra.
"This does not concern you," Finvarra snapped, harsher than Leanna had ever heard him, his tone not one of a Ringmaster, but of a King. "Tomas will do as I say and you will not meddle!"
The fire in the grate wavered, the room left more to more darkness than light.
"I will meddle when I choose," Leanna said, equally dark. "You are not my king!"
Finvarra's eyes flashed, shock and awareness warring there. If he didn't know she was conscious of who he was, he did now.
Minerva appeared at Leanna's side. She cradled her shoulders, coaxing Leanna with quiet words to move away from the curtains and sit. Perhaps she should have. The winds blowing through the curtain were frigid and Leanna shivered.
But shrugging Minerva's hands away, she dared step closer to Finvarra. She stared up at him, mindful of what he was—more, of whom: the faerie king whose glamour could bring her to her knees. Still, she steeled her spine and met his stare for each venomous measure. "Sovereign or not, you said you would deny me nothing. You are no liar."
Finvarra gazed down at her for an eternal moment. The look in those eyes told her she'd crossed the line. But for Kioyo's sake, she would cross line after drawn line.
He severed their gaze first, silenced rage trapped behind a promise made. "Leave us," he said over her shoulder, his anger thinly veiled. Leanna gulped. He would not hurt her, her heart knew this. But heavens, her body knew nothing but how to tremble!
Moving to beside the door, he faced Tomas. "When Kioyo returns, take him to my tent and wait for me there." Leanna exhaled slowly.
"Yes, Ringmaster." With a curt bow, Tomas exited the room.
Finvarra turned to Minerva slowly. He arched a brow, to which Minerva pursed her lips. "Good God, Minerva. I will not hurt her, if that is what you are so concerned about."
Minerva gave a humorless laugh. "I am not concerned," she said mildly, moving Leanna away from the gust of cool wind brushing through the curtain. "I am here because you never asked me to leave."
Frustration marked Finvarra's eyes. "I clearly said Leave us,—"
"And that, my dear, is an order, not a request." She gave him a firm look as she set Leanna on the edge of the bed. "But since there is much sewing to be done before sunlight, I will excuse myself."
Leanna toured her gaze between them. No subordinate ever spoke to a King that way—not that she'd been in the company of many Kings anyway. But Minerva was no subordinate, of this Leanna was certain.
Before she could give it another thought, Minerva tipped her chin and bore a strong gaze down into hers. "You will feel a bit tired, so rest. Is that understood? And no more quarrelling," she said, brushing Leanna's hair over her shoulders. "It'll give you wrinkles." A smile curved her red lips.
Leanna smiled, in part to keep her lips from trembling as Minerva's support pricked tears in her eyes. She nodded.
Bringing her shawl over her silvery hair, Minerva walked to the door. In passing Finvarra, she shook her head. A chuckle rumbled behind her as she vanished through the curtains.
Left alone, Leanna hugged herself. Though only she and Finvarra remained, the room felt crowded with lingering anger and mean-spirited words. She hugged herself tighter against the memory of them, having regretted them the moment she'd said them. But—she looked to Finvarra, who paced wordlessly to a reading desk, defeated—the damage was done.
At the desk, Finvarra tapped a small butterfly pendulum gently. Looking utterly helpless, he stared down at the swaying motions, and his shoulders lowered with a long exhale.
"We said we would try to get along," he said lowly and turned. His normal glow dimmed, he looked exhausted and drained. Anger left Leanna feeling the same. But she folded her arms across her chest and set her jaw, needing to hold fast to her irritation. She would fold otherwise. For Kioyo's sake, she couldn't.
"We did, but I can't sit by and let you put this unjust blame on Kioyo."
"Unjust? I specifically asked him to guard you with his life. Instead, he left and you nearly lost yours. And I am unjust?"
Leanna crossed the room to the sitting area. Ashamed, she sat closest to the fire, farthest from him. There was no way she could look into those eyes while confessing,
"It's my fault the creature got in. I brought him in with me. I didn't mean to, and I never meant for this..."
"Explain very quickly, Miss Weston," he snipped, a warning of chained wrath.
"My sister left a brooch for me," she replied, her eyes fixed on the flames. "She said it belonged to my mother. When you came to get me, I packed it away in my things and brought it through the crystals with me." She turned to him, braving his stare. "Then it appeared up on the platform, and somehow turned into this... this... machine."
Finvarra groaned, raking a hand through his hair. His ponytail dissolved into a disarray of blond that he fisted at the nape. The look of shock in his eyes burned and blood rushed into Leanna's cheeks. Her previous transgressions were nothing compared to this, and his look told her the same.
Gripping the edge of the reading table, he hung his head. Blond strands veiled his face, but Leanna didn't need to see it to know of his anger. The air sweltered with it and she held her breath, half expecting him to clear the table in one angry swipe.
She moistened her lips, "So you see, whether or not you two were here, it would've made no difference. I did this and I'm so sorry." She twined her hands at her core for strength to say the next words. Heavens, she didn't want to say them, but, "I understand if you don't believe me and think me a traitor. And if you wish for me to leave..."
Finvarra shook his head, his fingers digging into the table. "This is madness," he murmured. "Complete and utter madness."
"Well, isn't that the point?" She shrugged weakly, a bitter smile twisting her lips. "Isn't the point of my existence to drive you to madness and death?"
He lifted his head.
"Don't tell me it isn't," she said, heading off any words. "I know the truth now. I'm only here to inspire you, to drive you mad and slowly drain you of life until you die. That's the freedom you seek. That's all you've ever wanted of me." Her voice broke.
He straightened, but didn't turn to her; didn't say a word.
Leanna gripped the arm rest, his silence painful. "You know, I may make mistake after continuous mistake, but they're never out of ill will. I didn't tell you about the brooch because I didn't know. But you..."
Against her wishes, a tear fell. She batted it away angrily; glad he didn't see its descent. "You're a bastard, and I never should've trusted you. You should've told me who you were, what you really wanted from me. This was supposed to be my home, and now I find that it's all a lie."
He spun to her. "I never once made myself out to be somebody other than what I am." His eyes blazed with a conviction that weighed on her chest. "Whether a commoner or a king, I am but a cursed man looking to free my troupe. I always told you you'd be the death of me, that you would bring me my freedom, and in return I would give you yours. I never—"
He cut himself off and took a step back as if reining back his anger. Looking her straight in the eyes, he shook his head. "I never promised anything else."
The last of his words were spoken a little over a whisper, but tore through Leanna like a hurricane. Had he yelled them, perhaps their meaning might've been diluted in the screams. But he hadn't and she understood them for what they meant. She'd been a fool.
There was much to be said, yet for a while, neither of them spoke. The void was filled with the pops and licks of the flames, with the wavering intensity of the rain upon the canvas and the low howls of the wind.
"At first, I didn't know what to think," Finvarra spoke first, softly, as if not to disturb the peace. Quiet footsteps drew him closer. He sat at the chair beside her. "Part of me thought you pretended not to know who you were, just to drive me mad with everything I've always wanted. I was certain of it. Your mother gave you the crystal, and you were so willing to be the death of me when we met. I thought she'd also told you of who I was, who I waited for."
"She did," Leanna said through the knot in her throat. "She told me you were a Ringmaster waiting for his muse. There was no way I could've known."
"But even if she didn't tell you, there are stories about me. I saw the books all over your room. Surely you must have come across at least one tale."
Leanna considered this. Her thoughts fluttered like the butterfly wings above and she rose, unable to stand the nervous energy. "I looked in all the books I was allowed, the ones she brought me, but never found anything about you or about your Leanan Sidhe."
He smirked sadly. "Then it seems those books were allowed for a reason."
Following his train of thought, she grew cold. "She kept them from me," she realized. "I was always so sick; my mother was the one who brought me all my books. She must've kept from me any book where I'd learn of you or of your Leanan Sidhe. She said I was her inspiration... She must've believed she found your Leanan Sidhe in me." She walked away, working through her memories as the room grew smaller around her. "And I've defended your name me entire life, refusing every rumor and vicious story. She knew I wouldn't have come if I suspected for a moment that I was to cause your death."
Having found her answer, she stopped pacing. "She knew and never told me, and now I'm here," she said, fading into a terrible silence. She understood her mother's reasoning, but the truth burned cold. She hugged herself, feeling alone most of all.
Lost in the agony of her realization, her breathing hitched when a blanket came upon her shoulders. Too hurt to turn away, too tired to care for proprieties, she stood there as Finvarra cradled her shoulders gently.
"You defended my name?" he asked.
She clutched the blanket closed before her and lifted her gaze to his over her shoulder. "Always."
Finvarra met her eyes and his hands slipped from her upper arms. He walked away, stopping by the curtained windows.
"Ultimately it is me that Machina wants," he said. "It's my heart she hears. You have your freedom."
Awareness trickled down her spine, cold and slow. "What are you saying?"
He swallowed as if the coming words threatened to strip his throat raw. "You didn't know about me, about the Leanan Sidhe, and it isn't fair of me to keep you here. I suspect the crab followed me the night I took you back home. It must've not known whether it was you or your sisters I sought, but I brought danger upon you. I won't do it again."
Leanna blinked. It couldn't be he was... letting her go?
"I can draw Machina away," he pressed. "Take your freedom and leave far from this place. You'll be safe and will want for nothing. I'll make sure of it."
Seeing him standing there awaiting her answer, Leanna was certain if she chose to leave, he wouldn't force her to stay. She'd never had a more aching thought.
"Even if I wanted to leave, I don't think I could." Not wanting to see his reaction to her coming confession, she turned to the hearth. "I know there have been many other girls, and perhaps I'm just another one who so happened to have a ticket and this necklace. Pride tells me that's so, and it begs me to leave. I'm not a faerie goddess nor am I this otherworldly woman of legend." She chuckled sadly. "But then I think of how you've haunted me for most of my life..."
Tightening the blanket around her shoulders, she closed her eyes, imagining his hands still there. "We're bound. I belong here and I can't imagine it any other way." She opened her eyes. "I won't leave. I can't. I don't want to."
A soft breeze blew and he was behind her. She fixed her eyes on the swaying curls of the fire, not wanting to turn, not wanting to see if there was pity in his gaze.
Slowly, the glinting crystal lowered before her, coming to a rest just beneath her collar bone. Feeling it cool against her skin and his gentle touch clasping it at her neck, Leanna felt whole.
His hands came upon her then, smoothing down her arms. "You've haunted me as well," he said quietly, his breath skimming her hair. "Your mother had the necklace for many years, yet, I never felt her. But you...I knew your spirit, long before I ever saw your face."
Leanna closed her eyes, his words reaching the deepest parts of her existence. They were the right words. But of all, she stood there in the darkness and surrendered to his arms, knowing that they were true. She knew his spirit, the same way he knew hers. And that, above curses and broken hearts, had to stand for something.
The flames at the grate began to wither, casting intimate shadows around them. The rain intensified, washing out all other sound. Her eyes closed, Leanna's senses heightened to his touch journeying her arms, to the scent of rain, of vanilla, and him. A sigh stole from her, blissful. This was something else they could have: each other. No longer did they have to exist together in spirit, but now they could be together in body as well. How could she give this up without discovering all of it?
Clutching the blanket closed at her chest, she turned to him. Trapped in those eyes of everlasting blue staring down at her, she kept her body close so his hands wouldn't fall away. She was safe there, with only a breath between them. Caged by his arms around her, by his hands that smoothed down her back in an unhurried stroke, she knew then more than ever that, "There must be another way. I can't be the death of you."
He skimmed her cheek, a pained look in his eyes. "There is, but you know the risks of the alternative. I can't allow—won't allow it."
She knew Machina killed every woman he favored, but then and there, she couldn't bring herself to care.
Taking her hand, Finvarra turned her wrist over. He grazed his thumb along her pulse and pressed a quiet kiss against it. The coolness of his lips sparked the dying embers of the previous night, and she exhaled, forgetting the world, forgetting proprieties, forgetting all about the risks. There were just his lips at her skin and the inviting darkness.
Finvarra lowered her hand. His grip loosened, and the moment shattered... almost.
Tightening her hold on him, Leanna didn't allow him to go. This moment couldn't break. Yes, pixies had fallen, and there was Machina. There was evil and darkness enough to swallow them whole, but not there. Nothing could hurt them there.
Finvarra gazed down at her hand staying him, then lifted his lashes, uncertain. The black of his eyes widened, and his fingers against her skin trembled lightly, barely enough to be felt. But she felt it—felt his need to hear her answer. Was she certain he was what she wanted.
Tentatively leading his hand back around her waist, she stepped forward and curled at his chest. A willing prisoner of his arms, she looked to him and nodded just barely. His brows lowered as if her action wounded him, but the core of his eyes blazed and burned the world from around them.
And in this privacy, he kissed her.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-*~-*~-*~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
*Blissful sigh* I really hope you all enjoyed this first part. I can't wait to hear your thoughts :) As always, all votes and comments are appreciated!
PS- Just a reminder that this is the rough draft of Finvarra's Circus. If you would like to read the edited/polished version, you can buy it wherever books are sold :)