CINNABAR
A/N: I know, I should be updating In Dreams. And I can't remember Cleon's wife's name…
DISCLAIMER: Characters etc – not mine
Lyrics – not mine either (Vermilion Pt. 2 – Slipknot)
The messenger hands him a thick parchment envelope, he dismisses him and opens it to reveal a letter embossed with the seals of Mindelan and Masbolle. His heart plummets. Reading it, his heart drops even more.
Lord Cleon and Lady Ermaline of Kennan:
You are cordially invited by Baron Piers and Baroness Ilane of Mindelan, and Lady Patricia of Masbolle to attend the marriage of Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan to Captain Domitan of Masbolle on the second day of Midwinter at the Chapel of The Goddess in Corus.
The thick piece of paper floats from his hand to the floor as he sinks into a nearby chair. Burying his face in his hands, he sobs for the secret hope he's held for the past five years, now dashed with the arrival of one letter.
She seems dressed in all of me,
Stretched across my shame,
All the torment and the pain,
Leaked through and covered me.
I'd do anything to have her to myself,
Just to have her for myself.
Drying his eyes, he stands up from the chair. Bending down, he picks the invitation up off the ground. Walking out of his study, he goes in search of his wife.
He finds her in the garden, embroidering a design onto a piece of pale blue linen. She looks up as she hears his approach, dropping her embroidery, she stands.
"My Lord," she whispers, eyes flicking from his red eyes to the letter he holds in his hand.
He greets her with a smile, raising her hand to his lips. He can't help but notice its ivory perfection, not like hers. There are no scars on his wife's hands, not like hers, due to caring for a difficult young griffin.
He hands her the invitation. "We've been invited to a wedding," he tells her. "If you do not wish to attend, I will send our apologies."
She reads the invitation, her brown eyes meeting his when she finishes. "Do you wish to attend, my love?" she asks.
He maintains their eye contact, "Yes," he replies.
She smiles sweetly. "Then that is all that matters." Taking his hand, she leads him to the bench where her embroidery lies. "I also have news, my love."
He turns to look at her, then at the embroidery. Blinking, he turns back to her. "Are you?"
She smiles again, her hand reaching up to brush away the cinnabar hair that has fallen into his eyes. "Yes," she says. "Healer Andrea confirmed it this morning. I'm carrying your son, he's due in the summer."
A delighted grin spreads across his face, and he pulls her into a passionate embrace. But, there's a traitorous part of his mind telling him that if she dies in childbirth, he will be free to pursue Kel again. He forces the thought down in the heat of the moment, as his wife pulls him down onto the soft grass, but the grain of hope has been kindled again.
Now I don't know what to do,
I don't know what to do
When she makes me sad.
Five months later, Cleon is seated in the Chapel of the Goddess, his wife beside him. One of her small hands rests on her swollen belly; the other is holding his hand tightly. He is watching the woman he loves marry another man, and the tight band of grief constricts around his heart once more. He sees the love in her eyes for her new husband, and he finds himself wishing that it was him in Domitan's place. He envies him. He has snared the only woman who he ever wanted, who he has ever loved.
She is everything to me,
The unrequited dream,
The song that no one sings,
The unattainable.
She's a myth that I have to believe in,
All I need to make it real is one more reason.
At the reception, he leaves his wife with her friends from the convent, leaves them to discuss flippant gossip. He misses the conversations he used to have with his real love; they were never about such flippant things as "Lady Diane cut her toenails this morning." His heart twists, and he escapes onto the balcony to get some air, in the hopes that it will suppress his urge to collapse in tears.
A catch in my throat
choke
Torn into pieces
I won't.
No.
I don't want to be this but,
I won't let this build up inside of me
It has the opposite effect. As soon as he steps outside he drops to his knees in the snow, face turned to the heavens, the tears freezing on his face. He kneels there for what feels like an age before movement behind him brings him back to reality. Turning, he sees who has come onto the balcony, just as a shimmering emerald light wards the area from eavesdroppers. Nealan of Queenscove steps forward, and crouches next to him, scrutinizing his face.
"She's gone Neal," he finds himself saying. "All these years I've hoped that something may happen and I'll be able to go back to her, but that can't happen now, can it?"
Neal's heart twists at the look of hope on Cleon's face when he asks him if he could get back with Kel. Paying the wet snow no mind, he kneels in front of him. "Cleon, she stopped loving you a long time ago. She was going to tell you it was over when you told her that you had to marry Ermaline. She was relieved because she didn't want to break your heart, but hoped that you'd be able to love your wife. Have you?"
He crumples under Neal's intense green stare. "No, I haven't," he whispers. "She deserves someone better…"
Neal grabs his shoulder. "Don't talk like that. You deserve her, she deserves you. She's lucky, not that many women in arranged marriages fall in love with their husbands. She's glowing with love for you and your child. By all means love Kel, but try and find some more love for your wife."
He looks into the ballroom, and sees his wife talking to Kel, and his heart swells with love. Not for Kel alone, but also for his wife. He hadn't let himself feel it before; it had always felt like he was betraying Kel. He hears Neal get up and leave, and soon follows. Walking back into the ballroom, he walks up to his wife and sweeps her into his arms, losing himself in her all over again, not comparing her to Kel, but seeing her for what she truly is. He still loves Kel, but he can't make it real. So, he channels all that love towards his wife, who deserves it.
She isn't real.
I can't make her real.
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