Halle: Victor Of The Forest
The noise from the crowd was deafening. Feral shouts and hoots erupted all around her, echoing through the night. The drum sounded again in the distance, but this time it calmed Halle's nerves rather than heightened them.
Thrum. Thrum. Thrum.
Clive bent down and retrieved a curved crown from the charred dirt in front of the fire. It was made of dark wood, woven into a circle with leaves and small flowers. Thorns jutted up from the edges, mimicking jewels. He raised it up and gently sat it atop her nest of ratty hair and broken twigs. The pointed ends snagged in the tangled locks as he removed his fingers. It would stay in place.
Clive pulled her to his side as a line of masked people began to form. The first person, a young man wearing the pelt of a mountain cat and a leather mask bowed lowly to her. The eyes beneath the mask watched her carefully in a mix of envy and lust that made Halle's skin crawl. She looked above his head to the long line, and her stomach churned. The serenity of her body warred with the anxiousness inside her mind.
Another bow, this time from a woman. She was unmasked but wore red paint under her eyes. It dribbled down her cheeks, melting from the heat of the flames. Halle did not know what role, if any, the women played in the wedding festivities. She hadn't seen any on her way into the forest, but recalled Dot mentioning some blessing ceremony they took part in before the wedding.
Clive squeezed her fingers, drawing her back into the scene. Halle could only nod to the woman before she turned sharply and went back into the crowd. The princess wanted to clasp her hands together before her, a comforting method, but Clive's grip was like iron. He would not let her go. Another man came forward and bowed his head. Then another and another. Soon the people stepping up before her were a blur of face paint, masks, and obligatory bows. Each one seemed more forced than the last. She didn't recognize anyone. Dot was not present nor were her brother and Hector. Where they were, Halle did not know, but she wished they were there. She longed to see a familiar face.
Then, the gods laughed at her scornfully.
Commander Walsh emerged from the smoke behind a man with a ruddy beard. They were both dressed similarly in black leathers, but where the outfit made the other man look frumpy, the darkness only accentuated the Commander's muscular frame. There was something almost enigmatic about him that drew her gaze directly to his face. She forced herself to look away, felt the heat flooding her cheeks. She was glad that the fire was so close. It would be easy to explain away the sweat spreading down her back as a creation of the flames rather than a product of the Commander's nearness. She didn't know why she should feel that way. Commander Walsh was a harsh man, his brutality only glimpsed when she had seen the new recruits of the Watch after the mysterious Gilded Rite. Yet, here she was unwaveringly drawn to him. Perhaps it was because he appeared so aloof, so disinterested. Was that why she found him so fascinating? Or maybe, it was just the smoke making her head fuzzy.
At any rate, he appeared before her, pinning her with those dark eyes. She opened her mouth to say something but was cut off as the other man bobbed his head back up after bowing to block the Commander from view. Halle had completely missed his bow. She'd forgotten that the man with the auburn beard even existed. The princess felt ashamed and forced a smile at the fellow. Caught off guard, he blushed and moved aside. Commander Walsh stepped forward, and Halle's heart began to beat faster. She forced herself into a composed stance as he inclined his head to her. He bowed lowly and raised back up, his eyes focusing on her face. His fingers dusted some dirt from his shirt, and Halle noticed they were bruised and red as if he'd been punching something.
"Congratulations are in order," the man with the yellow mask said as he came around the blazing fire. He moved behind the Commander, blocking his exit. Rafe Walsh, Halle believed Rafe was his given name, went to step aside. He was trapped between the man with the yellow mask and the one with the red beard. Crossing his arms, he waited. Halle turned her head to hide her smirk. His uncomfortableness was rather comical.
"The ceremony's not over yet, Maddox," Clive remarked in a low gravelly voice. "Even though the people have acknowledged the Victor, there's still the bedding." His frankness sent heat rushing from Halle's cheeks all the way to her toes.
"And the dancing," Ruddy Beard squeaked. This earned him a sharp glare from Commander Walsh.
Clive's brow furrowed. "Where the hell's Bruce at?"
"Let me go find him." The Commander stepped forward, eager for a chance to escape, but the king shook his head. Clive reached up to reposition the antlers of his crown. The movement reminded Halle of the Black Stag in the depths of the forest. She glanced toward the endless trees behind her and inched a little closer to Clive.
"He never stays for these things." Clive wiped at his eyes, the black paint making them watery.
"That was him," Halle blurted out. "Bruce was the one who led me into the forest." It was a statement rather than a question. All eyes turned to her. "How did he get out?"
"He was symbolizing the man who leads the doe into the forest," Maddox explained. Seeing Halle's confused reaction, he continued, "Haven't you read any of the legends, princess?"
"Her people believe in the weak god and his sons," Clive sneered. "Ryker the Raider."
Halle had never felt so small in all her life, so much like some freak on display than in that moment. Subconsciously, she glanced at the Commander, but his eyes were traveling down her body curiously. Halle's heart sank as she remembered the sheer fabric of the dress and the tear that ran up her thigh. As casually as she could, she crossed her legs where she stood and wrapped her arms around her as if she might be cold. Although, she was quite the opposite. Under Rafe Walsh's unreadable gaze, she felt like she was on fire. A fever was spreading through her body, and she wished she could run back to the castle and douse herself with ice.
Suddenly, he looked up, boldly meeting her gaze before looking away, his eyes roaming over the trees of the forest in a bored state. A feeling of anxiety rose up inside her once his gaze was not focused on her. It was strange, but she felt worried that his attention was not on her. Halle cleared her throat.
"Commander Walsh, I trust your new recruits are well?"
He turned his eyes back to her, and Clive, who had been whispering with Maddox, abruptly stopped talking. She could feel his heated glare stabbing into her face but ignored it as she forced herself to remain focused on the Commander. Rafe nodded only once.
"As well as they should be... Lady." He hesitated on the last word, no doubt recalling his mistake when they'd first met, and he'd thought she was a maid. He did not meet her eyes then. Eager to regain his attention, Halle racked her brain for something else to say.
"You are not wearing a mask," she offered frantically, "nor is your man here." Halle nodded to the man with the ruddy beard who shuffled his feet when she spoke of him.
"How observant of you, Lady." Rafe's eyes met hers in a challenge. The fierceness in his gaze stole Halle's breath. Her throat went dry, and she tried to swallow. He did not elaborate on why he was not wearing a face covering, leaving the princess inwardly flailing around and feeling like an idiot.
Luckily, Maddox rescued her. "We should continue on to the dance," he said as he readjusted his mask and smoothed his manic hair down. He moved in front of the Commander, blessedly blocking him from the princess's view.
"What should I do?" Halle asked trying to be helpful. This only earned her a disapproving grunt from Clive beside her. He took her hand again.
"Follow my lead," he said over his shoulder as he led her down the path. Finally, she was away from the fire and the Commander for that matter. She was able to breathe a little easier, but the serenity did not last long.
Smoke rose up into the sky, the haze suffocating Halle. An image of the black stag's beady red eyes came to her, and the choking fear nearly had her knees buckling. There was no time for weakness, as Clive jerked her into the center of the mob. She coughed and tried to listen to the music. The beating of the drums grew into a raucous riot, the people getting lost in the wild rhythm. They swayed like drunken rogues, bodies pressing together as if the feeling of skin was necessary to live. The air was heady with sensual energy. It was making her drowsy. Clive pulled Halle against him. Her forehead collided with his chin, and he cursed under his breath as the twigs of her headdress bit into his flesh. He forced her back, holding her at arm's length. Halle blinked, unable to get a read on his expression.
Clive stepped to the left once, then encircled her before coming back to face her. Halle's heart picked up pace as he gestured for her to do the same. Slowly, she walked a circle around him, keeping her eyes on his face. When she returned to her original position, Clive inclined his head to her. His hand shot up, trapping her wrist. He placed her palm on his shoulder and gently moved it down his arm until it reached his own wrist. Then, he placed his hand on her other arm and did the same to her shoulder. Gooseflesh prickled her skin where his hand ran over. Halle shivered as she looked up at him.
His face was stoic as he slipped his hands down her back. Having never been touched that way, a fierce blush crept up Halle's cheeks. Instinctively, she tried to pull away, but when Clive's trailing fingers reached her waist, he tightened his grip on her.
"There's nowhere to run," he murmured into her ear as he tugged her closer to him. "You're mine now." He tilted her head back and slammed his dry lips onto hers. Excited claps surrounded them as bile rose in Halle's throat. It wasn't that the kiss was unsatisfactory, it was the fact that Clive had declared her as one of his possessions.
She pulled away from him, gasping for breath. "Are we not supposed to share our first kiss after the wedding ceremony?"
"Proving yourself in the forest was the ceremony. The husband has to make sure his wife is going to be strong enough for him." His eyes were glazed, the hazy smoke making his speech slurred. "I'll admit, I had my doubts about you." His fingers tightly intertwined in her hair. "But now, I think you're ready." He leaned in to kiss her again, but she placed a hand on his chest to halt his approach.
"Ready for what?" she asked. His eyes took on a wicked gleam, a smirk tugging at his lips that made Halle's stomach churn anxiously.