This place is surreal...as in seriously, surreal. Once we'd exited the carriage we had come to a long bridge, and I mean loooooong. On either side of the bridge there was flora and greenery but no ordinary trees, plants and flowers were these. They glowed, and seemed to sparkle with a million lights, it was truly magnificent. Everywhere I turned there was something incredible to behold, something I'd never seen before in my life. I was, quite simply, floored. And nothing much shocked me these days, or at least I hadn't thought so. But again, this place, it was like something out of a fairy tale my mother had read to me as a child. Heck, maybe that's why she'd read the stories to me...to prepare me for this, although I can't imagine she'd had had any idea that this craziness was in my future. At the end of the million mile bridge there was a looming castle, so magnificent that it was all I could do not to suck in a breath and show my completely awe like some sort of fan-girl idiot. But seriously, the castle was beyond stunning.
"Toto, we're definitely not in Kansas anymore," I mutter, giving a sideways glance to Bento, who is being cradled gently in Walkers arms. But the second he hears my voice he lifts his head gives me a meow and reaches for me. I try not to look to smug as I hold out my hands for the kitty.
"Really, Bento?" Walker says, chidingly. The kitty looks up at him as if to say, "What? I like her better," And I almost laugh—almost.
"Come on, Walker, give me Bento..." I know it's "low" but I bat my lashes at him and add a sweet, "...please?"
Walker's face softens and he immediately hands his familiar over. I cuddle Bento to me and snuggle into his soft fur. Gah, he really is the cutest cat ever. Bento lifts his head a gives me a smile as if to say, "Oh I know, I know I'm absolutely adorable. Please worship at my paws for all eternity."
"I will you know," I murmur to the cat. "You're just the sweetest lil guy ever. If you want me to worship at your furred paws, I will, you silly adorable thing, you."
Meow, meow, Bento burrows deeper into my arms making his pleasure known. And I laugh. I look and realize we've almost reach the end of the bridge from hell.
"Thank God." I mutter.
"Please amour, refrain from uttering His name, I implore you...please."
I sigh. It was just instinctual. But...I guess I could try not to take the Lord's name in vain. Although, it was going to be hard, really hard. I had a potty mouth on the best of days, and I definitely took the Lord's name in vain...uh...a lot.
"Yes, you do. But I appreciate your willingness to try, my beloved."
"Seriously, Chamuel, we really have to work on this. You know, how you just read my mind all the time."
Now its Chamuel's turn to sigh and he gives me a slight nod. "My amour, I know I have told you that I will try...and I am, I promise you I am trying. However, I must ask that you allow me some leeway while we are here, in Tir na nOg, and within the presence of the Warrior King Terrenel. I believe it will be helpful to be able to know what you're thinking and communicating in such a way. We are already at a disadvantage...on his...turf, isn't that what humans say?" And when I nod, he continues, "Being able to hear what you're thinking and answering such, it will give us an advantage and disarm him, I believe. He won't quite know what to make of it. So, I ask this of you...I ask that you do not question my abilities, or how I communicate from here on out, especially not within the presence of the Warrior King Terrenel. Can you do that for me, my beloved?"
"If you're asking her to keep her mouth shut, I think you're asking too much of her," Walker says dryly, keeping an even pace with us. I give him a dirty look, but he only smiles at me. "Come on my darling girl, don't tell me that you're able to just stand there and look...well...like some sort of 'arm candy'? You really think you can just sit and watch and wait while the men talk things through?"
Well the fuck with that! There was no way in HELL I'd let the boys hash things out without me. What was this, the thirteenth century? No way, this was my case, I had as much say in it as anyone, if not more. And if the Great One Warrior King thought otherwise he had a nasty surprise coming his way.
"Romanoff, could you try not to stir things up too much, and try not to stir up my amour before anything has actually occurred. You are only making things more difficult, and we haven't even had our audience yet."
Walker shrugs, "Listen, I say it like I see it. No need to mince words, right? It sounded like you wanted Annora darling to stand there and look pretty while you listened to her thoughts and spoke for her. And I'm telling you that there's not a chance in the seventh level of hell that that is ever going to happen. Annora has never been known for her..." Walker grins, "Diplomacy."
"HEY!" I shout at him. "I can be diplomatic if I want to be."
"Oh really?" Walker laughs. "What about the Richardson case?"
"Hey the Sheriff of Wakefield county was a total idiot and a drunk to boot. It wasn't my fault that he got himself shot." I say annoyed.
"And the Mayfield case?"
"The mayor was a corrupt asshole loser who was clearly ignoring evidence and covering shit up. Again, not my fault if he got his ass handed to him. I only brought to light stuff that was already there."
"And the..." Walker hesitates a second before saying "The Jacobson case?"
I stiffen and take a deep breath. "The entire town was corrupt, and the local police were absolutely inept. They could have stopped the carnage well before we arrived but they chose to ignore clear signs and act like absolute idiots, idiots who ended up getting themselves killed, if I need to remind you."
"No, no, I know you're right, my sweetheart," Walker said. "I have no issue with how you handled that case, only with the outcome," He finishes grimly, clearly remembering how he'd come across me, bleeding out, arm hanging on by sinew and barely held together muscle. That was the closest I'd ever come to believing I wasn't going to make it. Had I made peace at that moment? I take a minute to think on that horrible time and then nod slightly. I had. I had made peace with it. Hey, that's not to say I wasn't pleased as fucking punch that Leanore showed up when she did and saved me, and my limb. But right before she had shown up, I do believe I'd made peace with my demise.
"You had," Chamuel says quietly. "Your soul reached for me, my beloved."
HUH? I don't remember reaching for anyone, except death.
"I felt your pain, and it tore through me like a million daggers piercing my flesh, beloved. It took more than a few of The Host to hold me back. I was determined to come to you side. I fought. They...they had to take me..."
"Take you?" I murmur, and frown. "I don't understand."
"I was desperate to get to you. You had never reached for me like that. I felt the call of the dark as it crept ever near and I was overtaken with the need to be with you, the Graces...the Graces be damned."
I can't believe Chamuel just said that.
"It is true, my amour. The Graces insisted that I remain. They said it was not yet time to reveal myself to you. But I would hear none of it. I felt like I had to...no I NEEDED to be there, to be at your side...to help...to hold you. To bathe you in my angelic presence; I went against The Graces. I began to make my way to you and my father stopped me. I...I would have fought him for you, my beloved, but six of The Host detained me. They...they...between their presence and that of my father, I could do nothing. They..." Chamuel takes a deep breath. "They locked me up, amour."
Oh. My. God. They'd locked my beautiful angel up? What had they done to him, had they hurt him?
"No...no...not overly so, my beloved. The pain came from not being able to be at your side. I felt everything you did. I ached to be with you. It was agony, the worst sort of torture knowing that you were so close to the dark, and in so much pain and I could do nothing. It was the worst torture that they could have inflicted upon me, my love."
I'm staring at him stunning, and when I look over at Walker, even he has a look in his eyes...is that a look of respect? It's definitely something, something that hadn't been there before.
"I...I..." I take a deep breath, shift Bento into one arm and with my other hand I take Chamuel hand in mine. Big step for me, I was definitely not an affection or PDA sorta girl. But this...this revelation deserved...hell, it deserved so much. "I...I hardly know what to say, Chamuel. It pains me, it actually pains me to know that you went through all of that for...for...me."
"I would suffer a thousand hells for you, my amour, do you not know this by now?" Chamuel squeezes my hand. "What I went through was nothing compared to what yo suffered, and I am so sorry that I was not there for you. But know this," And his eyes begin to glow again, "I will never leave you again, I will never be separated from you again not for any length of time. No one, not my father, not even the entirety of the Heavenly Host will ever keep me from you again. I let them know what would happen if they ever tried to do so again. And I faced The Graces for you, and I told them the same."
"You...you..." I swallow, "You went up against Archangel Michale and The Graces...for...for me?"
"Of course, you are my beloved, and I would do it a million times more if I had to."
And just like that I feel the walls surrounding my heart begin to crack and crumble, as I walk hand in hand with my Archangel into the largest castle I've ever beheld in my life
"I'm vastly underdressed for this meeting," I murmur to Chamuel. I'm still holding his hand, and I realize I'm holding on to it for dear life. I'm wearing a black blouse, skin tight black jeans with silver studs, take-no-prisoner steel toe boots and my black duster. As I walk through the long corridor I'm aware of the stares that we're getting. I try not to pay any attention to them. There are people, no correction, Fae folk milling about, all dressed to kill in honest to God ball gowns and other ridiculous (in my opinion) courtly garb. The men all have brocade (yeah, for real) brocade jackets, or coats, over highly embroidered tunics and hose. I mean, exactly what century are we living in anyway?
"Centuries mean nothing to them, amour. You must remember they exist on a plane where time, well human time holds no meaning. This...what you see, it is how they prefer to dress...to live...to exist."
"It's uh...weird, Chamuel," I whisper. "I feel like I'm walking onto the set of 'The Tudors,' again, weird."
"What's the Tudors?"
I chuckle. "Sorry, I forget sometimes that you probably aren't well versed on human television shows. It's an older TV show that follows the life of King Henry the 8th and his many wives and well, basically...this...this all looks like a set from that TV show to me."
"Oh Great One, may I introduce His High Heavenly Host, Chamuel El Epp, and companions," Amanuels voice finally rings out loud and clear and I realize we've reached a huge hall, and at the end of said hall on a raised dais there is a massive throne, and sitting upon that throne is well...well...Jesus, the most gloriously beautiful man I've ever seen in my entire life. Chamuel squeezes my hand—hard—and I roll my eyes. Okay, maybe the second handsomest man I've ever seen,
"That's better, amour." Chamuel whispers in my ear. And I roll my eyes again.
"Be at ease, and welcome, High Heavenly Host, Chamuel El Epp," The man on the throne says and for a minute I think I forget how to think because he has the most incredible voice. It is smooth, and breathtakingly beautiful. I never realized voices could be beautiful, but his voice, his voice is actually stunning. "And be at ease, companions and friends of the High Heavenly Host."
I realize the moment that the beautiful man, no Fairy, really looks at me for the first time, because I FEEL it. I feel his eyes upon my person as if the full weight of the sun has landed on me. Heat blooms throughout my body and I think I actually take a step or two forward, as if forgetting myself. What the hell is going on?
"Ohhhhh High Heavenly Host, what have you brought me, my friend? What gift have you brought to me in exchange for my help?" The man continues, his voice still beautiful and melodic, although his words shake me out of my stupor.
Gift? Is he talking about me? I'm no one's fucking gift. Chamuel squeezes my hand again it silence me, and shockingly I obey and say nothing, even though I really, really want to.
"Greetings Great One. Thank you for agreeing to this audience, we greatly appreciate it. May I present my companions, Walker Romanoff and my amour, and bonded, Annora Gun Samhail Park."
"Gun Samhail," The king says softly, but I can still hear him, and it is like the entire room hushes. "Gun Samhail you say. You say she is your bonded...and yet I do not feel the completed link between you two."
I grit my teeth. Did everyone know that Chamuel and I hadn't completed the link? And how was that possible? "He's mine," I grind out, eyes narrowed into slits. "And I'm his. We're linked."
The beautiful Fairy King cocks his head to one side and a smile crosses his face. "Well, well, it speaks."
"It," I spit, "has a name, and is not an it!"
"Quite right, quite right," The King rises from his throne and begins to walk toward us. The closer he gets to us the harder my heart begins to pound. He's so beautiful his beauty is nearly blinding, almost like when I'd first met Chamuel. I almost feel as if I have to shield my eyes from his brilliance. Dressed in impressive armor, with a crown of gold studded with truly impressive gems upon his silver hair, he's stunning. He has to be at least six foot seven, taller than walker by an inch or so, he has daggers sheathed at his waist and a broadsword, an actual sword. What the heck was it with these guys and swords anyway? "You've been holding onto secrets, Heavenly Host. I do not like secrets, especially from those who are seeking my help." He reaches us, and is standing but a foot or so away when he turns his full attention to me and I think I forget to breathe,
His eyes...dear God...his eyes are extraordinary. They are blue, silver, purple, gray, and swirl with stars. It's like looking into a star struck universe and I'm entranced. His hair is silver, not gray, not white, but true silver, like Christmas tinsel and falls straight to his waist. His skin is perfectly porcelain white and glows pearlescent. With slashing cheekbones, arched eyebrows and lips that are ruby red he's too beautiful to be believed.
Before I even know what I'm doing, I've let go of Chamuel's hand and stepped forward and reached out as if to touch this beautiful Fairies face. Suddenly my hand is captured within his and brought to his lips and I gasp.
Oh my God. Oh my God. What am I doing? What is going on here? Why in the hell did I just do that? What...what was I possibly thinking? I wasn't thinking, I couldn't have been thinking. Because If I'd been thinking I never would've tried to touch the clearly dangerous Fairy King. I try to pull my hand away but he's having none of it and refuses to release it.
"Let go," I hiss, finally. "Let go of my hand, right now."
He laughs, a full laugh. "Oh no mo pheata boidheach. You gave me your hand, and I do believe I shall keep it for now. Just as I do believe I shall have to keep you."
The hell now? Did this lunatic just say he was going to keep me? Oh fuck no!
"Careful, amour, do not say something you will regret later," Chamuel murmurs, but when I turn to look at him his face is tight with anger and his body is rigid.
"Chamuel...this...this...this Fairy Boy just said he wants to keep me. I mean, tell me that this is just some weird introduction thing that all Fairies do when they first meet someone new."
"Fairy boy?" The king blinks, everyone seems to collectively hold their breaths, and then he lets out great bellows of laughter. "Fairy boy. Fairy boy, oh that is good. Oh no mo ghraidh, I am most certainly no boy, and do not worry I shall show you that soon enough. Please, you will call me Terrenel," and I hear gasps all around me and ignore them, "...but soon you will call me, ghradhaich."
"No, she will not be calling you beloved, Great One. For that is what I call her, and what she calls me." Chamuel says softly, but strongly.
Well I hadn't exactly called Chamuel beloved yet, but if it would stop this lunatic Fairy king from thinking I was going to be giving him pet names, I was all for it.
Terrenel turns his attention to Chamuel then, he's still holding onto my hand refusing to let go, His eyes grow hard and his lips thin. "It is as I said before, you have been holding secrets, Heavenly One. If I were a less understanding king, I might take offense. As it is, I'm willing to overlook your oversight as long as we discuss things now, and my ghraidh remains with me."
"Discussion we may have, but she is not your darling and you have no right or claim to keep her." Chamuel says.
"Listen dickhead, I'm about a second away from pummeling that face of yours and giving it some fucking character," Walker finally spits out and both Chamuel and I groan. Shit, he just had to go there, didn't he. Then again, I was kinda shocked he'd remained as quiet as he had until now. "Fairy King or not, you still bleed red, and I'm very, very good at making people bleed," And Walker's eyes almost gleam with anticipation.
"Ohhhh...how interesting now," Terrenel turns his star kissed eyes to Walker. "A War Lak. It has been longer than I can remember since we've had one of your kind upon our shores. This is turning out to be an interesting day. And are you too going to be claiming mo ghraidh as yours?"
"I have no idea what the fuck you're saying douchebag, but I'm assuming it's something connected to my darling girl. Annora darling is definitely mine. She and I have bound through blood, if not spirit, and there's no way you'll be keeping her, not if you want to keep those pretty hands of yours. In fact, if you don't let go of her hand soon I'll be separating yours from your wrist."
Terrenel narrows he eyes and his face looks stormy, before he swings his eyes around the room. "Out, out all of you." He booms.
I've never seen a room empty so quickly before. "Somehow I don't think he's including us in that statement," I say dryly. I've stopped trying to tug my hand from his. It's completely hopeless, and only freaking hurts. He has a grip like a metal vise.
"Of course not, mo ghaol. Oh but now that I've found you...do you truly believe I'd let you go anywhere."
"There you go again, Fairy boy, talking like you just happened across me." I give him a stink eye. "We, my friends and I came here for help. You didn't just 'find me' and I didn't just jump into your freaking lap."
"I have most certainly found you. This...this cannot be an accident. The Goddess has her plans, and I have no doubt that this was one of hers. I do not believe in coincidence, mo ghaol."
"What the hell are you calling me, you big fucking Fairy idiot," I snap, getting annoyed. When I'm out of sorts, or feel like I'm 'backed into a corner,' I come back swinging. Oh, and my language gets even more foul and rude. Can't seem to help myself, it's like how I'm wired.
"Mo ghaol," Chamuel murmurs from my side. "My love."
My eyes widen. "No, oh no, no way you insane lunatic!" I use my other hand (my free one) and point to Walker, "You're loonier than he is if you think I'm your anything, especially your love!" I begin to try and free my hand again, "Listen Fairy boy..." And suddenly I'm free and Walker is standing in front of me holding a dagger to the Fairy King's neck. I blink, stunned. Terrenel the Great Fairy King just looks supremely amused.
"Again...what an interesting day this is turning out to be," Terrenel murmurs. And then in a movement so beautiful and fluid it almost appears as if he's dancing, he's ducked, spun and now he's the one holding a dagger to Walker's throat. "Ahhhh War Lak, you do not keep the Great Warrior King under any sort of blade...not for long."
Walker laughs, yeah, the lunatic actually laughs and then leans into the blade causing it to bite into his skin. I watch as rivulets of blood begin to drip down his neck as he continues to smile like a psycho.
"Go ahead, do it," Walker says grinning. "I know you want to."
Wait. What? I begin to shake my head. What the hell? When had the situation gone from strange to completely psychotic? "No, no, wait, stop it the both of you."
"Oh, let them have their fun, amour." Chamuel says, his face relaxed for the first time since entering this nutty palace.
"No I will not," I glare at him. "I will not let them have their fun, Chamuel. They'll kill one another."
Chamuel shrugs, "It might be amusing to watch. They are...fairly evenly matched. It will be good for them, my beloved. It would definitely be good for the Great One, he hasn't been challenged in...well, I cannot even remember the last time he was challenged. Perhaps it will, what is that quaint human expression, knock him down a peg or two?"
I cock my head to one side, "You think Walker could take him?" Wait. What the hell am I saying? When did I get on board with this craziness?
"You don't?" Chamuel grins, "Your Warlock is, although I'd never tell him, quite impressive, beloved. If the Great One, Terrenel resists the urge to use his magic, and Romanoff does the same...then yes, perhaps he could take the Great One."
Suddenly magic blooms in the room, I can always feel it (magic) in my bones, doesn't matter the source. It's like I'm intimately connected to it. I have a second to process the fact that Walker has conjured a sword, a very long and wickedly sharp looking sword, before he swings it at the kings head.
I look heavenward and then sigh. Terrenel and Walker are now fully engaged, parrying back and forth. And it's like Chamuel says, they appear quite evenly matched. Both are roughly the same size, with the Fairy King having a bit more bulk and a few inches on Walker, but with how Walker is attacking him, you'd never know he was at any sort of disadvantage. I watch as Walker lunges and catches the Great Fairy King in the side.
"Air a dheanamh gu breagha." Terrenel says laughing and quickly slashes, catching Walker across his chest. Walker's shirt shreds and blood begins to run down his chest.
"What the heck did he just say, Chamuel," And I can't believe I'm just allowing them to cut each other up.
"Beautifully done," Chamuel murmurs, and there's a grin on his face. "It was rather well done. I doubt the Great One has felt a blade penetrate his body in decades."
"Centuries, it has been centuries," Terrenel shoots back, his attention ever fixed on Walker and his swinging sword. He parries, swings, and brings down his sword on Walkers arm. It too begins to bleed.
"Walker," I call out, "You okay there, big guy?" I feel obligated to ask.
"Darling girl, this is fun." Walker dances out of the Fairy King's reach. There is a maniacal gleam in his eyes, and his mouth is stretched in a feral grin. "We should have come here earlier. I haven't had such a good work out in...well...since birdie and I went at it, and then, well you wouldn't let us bleed each other. It's not fun if there isn't any blood."
"You're crazy, Walker," I say dryly.
"Yes, but you adore me, darling."
"TO YOUR RIGHT!" I shout, just as Terrenel comes at him from the right and slices down his chest again. This wound isn't shallow and begins to profusely bleed. Okay. ENOUGH WAS ENOUGH! "STOP IT!" I shout.
"Oh my amour it was just getting good," Chamuel murmurs.
"Seriously, you too?" I glare at him before turning my attention back to the two idiots in front of me. "Seriously, stop it right now. Right the fuck, now!" When they don't appear to hear me, or at least, not to listen to me, I realize I'm going to have to do something drastic. Fuck. I don't want to do this. I take a deep breath, drop my shields one by one, and then let it in, let myself breathe in everything they're feeling. The pain strikes me hard and fast and brings me to my knees. I was right, Walker is hurt worse than he's letting on, the wounds on his chest hurt like a sonofabitch. I gasp as my eyes water and begin to burn.
"My darling girl. What do you think you're doing?"
Suddenly Walker is right there, beside me, pulling me into his arms. "Now why would you go and do something stupid like this. You know better than to drop your shields, darling girl."
"You...you..." I mumble, "...You started...started it."
"I most certainly did not."
I let my head loll to the side and close my eyes for a minute. The light in the room is blinding now. "Yes...yes...yes...you did," I continue, my words seem to come out slurred. "When...you...you...fight...fight...bit ol' meany over there..."
"What is wrong with her?"
That's the Great Fairy King's voice I think. But it sounds as if I'm hearing it through water, or the length of a long tunnel.
"Ghabh i do phian."
Ohhhh that's my angel, my sweet angel talking now. "Whatcha say my sweet angel," and I swear he chuckles.
"Only that you took their pain, my beloved."
"Gradh Milis." Terrenel breathes. "She is even more of a wonder than I thought."
"Sweet Goddess indeed," Chamuel says, then continues, "Although I would say, sweet God, as I do believe He had more to do with it than she."
"Blasphemy," Terrenel says, "Look at her, she is Goddess blessed. What would your God know of it."
"All," Chamuel counters. "He knows all, who do you think created your worshipped Goddess, Oh Great One."
"Could both of you morons argue the states of your worshipped beings after my darling girl isn't half passed out?" Walker snipes.
"She would not be, how did you say it, half passed out, if you hadn't decided to attack The Great One."
"Oh, I, attacked him?" Walker grinds out. "I thought it was more the other way around."
"Ohhh...why soooooo mad?" I slur, and groan, I can still feel it, the pain, as it spears through my body.
"Darling girl, bring your shields back up. Bring them back up, my darling."
"Nope, nopity, nope," I say in a sing-song voice, trying to ignore the lancing through me, "I brings them up, and you...you...you and Fairy boy try to kills...kills...kills each other's again..."
"Annora!" And Walker's voice is hard and urgent now, "Bring them up now, you're beginning to bleed, my darling girl. And while I may love blood, I find I do not enjoy seeing it on you. Bring up your shields."
"Fascinating," Terrenel murmurs from my other side. "She manifests the wounds? Is it from her soul?"
"Shut up, fuckface!" Walker shouts. "Annora darling, bring up your shields, I promise I won't attack fuckface again, at least not right now. Come on, darling girl, bring them up."
"If she leaves her shields down too long, yes, she will, as you see, manifest the wounds. She is more than a mere Empath, or Treader." Chamuel says.
"Stop explaining shit to fuckface," Walker says, "And help me with her."
Chamuel sighs, and I feel his hand on my face, cupping my cheek.
"Amour, your Romanoff is very worried right now, and when he is worried he gets angry, and when he's angry people usually die. You do not want that, do you? It would help us greatly if you were to raise your shields now, my beloved."
Raise my shields? What shields? Ohhhh yessss...I'd dropped my shields because the two idiots were sword fighting. Pain. Pain. So much pain.
"Yes my amour, I know, you hurt. Raise your shields, I will help you, and you will feel better."
Yes. I needed to raise my shields. That's right. Slowly, painstakingly, I bring them back up, fortifying them, and sealing them. After what could be five minutes or five hundred I feel the fog in my head begin to lift and the pain in my body begin to clear. I find myself cradled in Walker's arms, with the Fairy King, and Chamuel kneeling in front of us. I look at all three of them feel the venom pouring through my body and spit out.
"I hate you. I hate you all."