I make no profit on this story and all nintendo characters belong to nintendo.
The moon hung white and full in the clear, cold winter night. The stars could be seen so clearly they looked like sparkling diamonds on a blanket of blue-black velvet, or the on dress of some mysterious celestial being. The large, thick boughs of pines and yew trees lay covered in frosty icicles and heavy snow from the previous day's blizzard. The hills beneath them were covered in white, and an occasional wind blew off spindrifts of soft snow so fine it appeared as a sparkling mist in the moon's cool lunar light. The occasional winter rabbit scurried among the shadowy tree roots, and a stalking owl flew on whispering wings, hooting softly in the silence of the trees as the other creatures rested in hibernation, waiting for spring.
The castle stood in its ancient grey glory against the valley behind it. The banners of red and gold in bright rich contrast to the dark evening sky ruffled in the wind. A symbol of a man and a woman touching the claw of mighty dragon was sewn into it; the Caladonian royal symbol, the symbol of bondage and strength representing the unique and strong bond of the people and their dragon kindred whose blood they shared.
The mighty stronghold was a symbol of the royal family's power and will; a colossal construction of thick walls of granite and marble with ten archers stationed and ready, watching all sides, and two guards set in every entryway; there were even a few patrolling the hills in front of it, wrapped in fur cloaks against the cold. Each had a dragon sitting upon their shoulders, all of varying hues of green, red, and brown, ever vigilant.
Inside the stone walls it was silent, broken only by the occasional snoring of the dogs that slept here and there through out the halls or at the foot of one of the beds behind one of the thick wooden doors. In one particular room the walls were high and arched and filled with soft shadows, which were made warm by the soft light of a gentle fire in a large stone fireplace. Dragon heads with fierce looking fangs and claws grew along the pillars, pointing outwards as the soft yellow orange light of the constantly shifting flames, casting shadows over them, making them look alive. Thick velvet curtains hung over a large window, which was situated in the direction of the sea, a mere mile away.
A small sliver of bright pale starlight filtered in, washing over the tall canopy bed, bright red-gold colors with a lively gold silk trim. The bed itself was quite large, the blankets were as velvet red as the canopy that surrounded it, the blankets thick with feathery down tonight against the winter's chill. Within this soft comfortable bed the sounds of sniffling and crying of a child could be heard. A tiny white hand appeared, awkwardly pulling part of the canopy curtain back, then out came the face of a tiny pale-skinned girl, her large dark green eyes bright with tears that fell down her soft, round, freckled cheeks, her brownish-gold hair in a disarrayed mess as she sniffled, her lip trembling. The little dragon that had been sleeping with the child woke up suddenly, chirping a few times in surprise as the other occupant sat and abruptly began to cry.
Lilith had had a bad dream again, where everyone had left her in the dark, and she was trapped in some kind of box and couldn't get out. That she couldn't was strange; usually her knight came to save her, but tonight he hadn't come. She looked at her dragon sister, who chirped at her worriedly, her slit bronze eyes glowing in the firelight.
"Let's go find Mama, Silva," she said, sniffling again.
She had stopped crying but now had the hiccups. She ignored it; she needed her mama. She picked up the silver-scaled dragonling, holding her like she would a cat. The little dragon nuzzled her sister's cheek, licking at the tearstains on her skin. She shivered as her feet touched the cold stones, and she jumped back into her bed almost as soon as her feet touched the floor.
It's too cold! she decided, but she wanted her mother. Then she thought of the freezing, empty dark hall she would have to walk down, and this made her even more hesitant to move from her bed. She hugged her draconic sister close for the warmth. The little silver-scaled creature looked at her with her bright bronze eyes, which were shining from the firelight, a ring of gold in the bronze surrounding the inner area of its eyes, close to the pupil. She nudged Lilith encouragingly; a warmth filled her heart and slowly seeped in the rest of her.
She needed to be brave. Her mother was always telling her that, so much so that at times Lilith grew irritated. It was the same lecture her mother and every other grown person around seemed to give about being brave, and she was sick of it. She squared her tiny shoulders and took a deep breath, releasing the tiny creature from her grip. She would be brave then, even if inside she was trembling.
She would need her slippers before she went anywhere. As if reading her thoughts, Silva slipped down quick as a flash to the floor, and crawled back up the sheets to her side, a pair of silken slipper shoes, crimson in color, clasped in her jaws. Lilith smiled broadly, touching her forehead to the dragon's.
Thank you, sister, she said, and the words echoed in her mind. She hoped it had worked; their bond was very new, and the mental talk was something that she wasn't very comfortable with yet. When she tried to do it she couldn't make the link to her dragon sister at times, which caused her a great deal of frustration, as well as humiliation and teasing from the other children, whose bond with their dragons were quite strong already. Her heart ached with envy at the thought.
Wel … come. The word was distorted and shaky in its speech, but it had come nonetheless. The girl's chin jutted out in pride; pleased that it had worked, she slipped on the shoes and daintily put her feet onto the floor. She pulled on her thick warm red robe that hung close to the bed over herself and tiptoed to the door.
Lilith pushed her large door open as much as she could, the firelight spilling out through the crack of the opened door out into he dark cold corridor. She hated the dark; her mind always brought image of scary things, things hiding in the dark with long fangs that bit and ground and chewed you up, and claws that slashed and tore. She adjusted her robe closer to her neck, and held Silva closer to her. She had to go see her mama, and besides, she had her dragon sister with her; she would be fine. She slipped out quickly, shutting the door quietly.
The dragonfire in her little scaled sister's belly pulsed softly as Lilith quickly padded down the dark hallway, trying not to think of the hideous monster that lay in the shadows that her childish mind created. Her feet slapped against the stones, the only sound she could hear. She moved as quickly as she could to get out of the frightening place. When she at last reached the door she felt safe. The delicate carvings of plants and flowers surrounding the border of the door separated her parents' chambers from the rest of the bedrooms in the ancient keep. She pushed the door open carefully and stepped inside the room, and stood there, taking in the scent of her mother's bedroom. She loved the delicate scent of peonies; it was her mother's scent.
She tiptoed to the bed and pushed the thick canopy curtain back, revealing her mother. Her chestnut brown hair shone in a long soft braid, her delicate dark lashes closed over her soft slender cheeks, and her soft breathing was silent.
"Mama?" Lilith whispered, her body tense, waiting for her mother to wake. Her heart fluttered nervously in her chest, afraid her mother might be angry with her for waking her at this hour on such a cold night. She wriggled her toes inside the silken slipper shoes. Her mother shifted her eyes slowly, and they fluttered open, revealing the same dark green eyes as the small child who had pushed the door open with catlike silence.
"Lilith?" she said, blinking her eyes blearily and yawning widely as she lit a candle with two pieces of flint. Her daughter stood in front of her, mussed up hair and all. "What is the matter?" she asked, holding up her candle, still blinking away sleep, which she tried once, twice, then at last it was it. In the glowing amber light of the candle flame she saw her daughter. Lilith had been crying, and her eyes were red and puffy. She sighed and sat up straighter, knowing what would come next.
"I had a scary dream," her daughter said meekly, biting her lips as tears filled her eyes again, as she had expected. Her mother placed the candle down, as the wide-eyed girl looked up at her mother sniffling and hiccupping. She wiped her daughter's cheeks.
"Don't worry, my darling," said the green-eyed queen, stroking her young daughter's hand soothingly with her own. "It was simply a bad dream." Lilith looked at her nervously, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, still hiccupping. Fae picked up the freezing cold pitcher from the bedpost beside her and poured her daughter a glass of water.
"Are – hic – you – hic – angry – hic – I woke – hic - you?" she asked, a bit fearfully.
Fae blinked, then shook her head "Of course not," she said softly, lifting her daughter into her bed with her. She handed her the simple wooden cup.
"Drink this. It will help." Lilith didn't hesitate, and gulped down the icy liquid, making her shiver inwardly but stopping her hiccups, much to the relief of both. Once she was finished, her mother lifted her into her arms. The girl snuggled against her, feeling the warmth of her mother's skin, and the sure and steady beat of her heart. It was soft and gentle like a summer breeze.
She held her daughter close, the cold darkness of the winter night forgotten as she stroked Lilith's messy brown-blond hair. Lilith took in a deep breath. The soft floral scent that was always part of her mother calmed her, and it made the fear she had of the nightmare that had brought her there seem like nothing. It only took a moment or two before any remaining fear or anxiety she felt was soothed and vanished. She leaned against Fae, letting the intimacy of a mother and child take over."Feel better now?' her mother whispered to her softly.
Lilith smiled and nodded. She nuzzled against her mother's warmth. Fae smiled, the lines of tiredness showing around her eyes and mouth, giving her a weary appearance. Dark rings showed underneath her eyes from the sleepless nights the queen spent, trying to manage the affairs of state and country, a difficult duty to deal with. Even the king her husband had difficulty doing it. But she was considered an outsider and deeply despised many of the nobles who made it even more difficult, and every time she had to prove herself, as a queen and as a woman and as a mother, trying to find ways to protect their daughter from the worst of their cruelty, which proved more difficult with each passing day the king was gone. Some of the nobles had approached her with an offer of marriage for her daughter in return for protection of both. She always refused, but one had been particularly persistent in his offer of an arranged marriage: the lord Lidial Lodre, a fourth cousin to her husband who been removed once. Why, she had never known, but all she did know was that the man was vile, and there was a cold gleam in his crystal blue eyes that she did not trust. If the rumors of his amoral taste in bedmates that circulated about him were true she would never allow him to even so much as breathe in her daughter.
She couldn't let them win. Her daughter was no bargain item to be traded off.
Lilith looked at her mother and smiled lovingly, hugging her mother close. "Mama?" she asked softly, her large eyes wide with questions in a timid manner.
"Yes, my girl?" Fae asked, shifting her daughter's weight on her lap.
"Are you sure you're not mad?" she asked, cuddling closer to her mother, enveloped in her warmth. The dragon queen's eyes went dark, and she chuckled, letting out a sigh and rubbed her eyes.
"Of course not. In fact, you saved me from a bad dream." It was a lie, but she was tired and simply wanted to sleep. She didn't want to feel worse than she did by making her daughter cry. The little dragon princess beamed up at her mother lovingly. Silva stared up at Fae with her large eyes. At least one problem was averted; now she had to get her back into bed. As much as it hurt her, Lilith was getting too old to sleep with her. If she babied her for much longer, their already shaky position would be in further jeopardy.
Her daughter stared at her with wide-eyed wonder."Really?" she said breathlessly as her mother slowly opened the door to her now dimly lit room. She placed Lilith down and rekindled the fire, making the room warm and bright again. The tiny girl smiled.
"Maybe my knight will come then," she said softly as her mother tucked her in, smoothing down her warm blankets. The little dragon, a small thing perhaps the size of her mother's hand, crawled over to her bond sister's side, settling into the covers. The firelight caught on her bright silver scaled her bronze eyes bright as amber.
"Your knight?" her mother asked as she stroked her hair.
The tiny girl nodded."I don't know who he is but I know he's mine," she said, a bit of a pride tilting her chin up with a large smile on her face."He's all mine."
Fae chuckled."You can't own a person," she told her daughter as she shifted in bed. Lilith crossed her arms and looked very pouty.
"I'm a princess, " she said, her lip poked out. Fae let out a sigh.
"You can't own someone, princess or not." She gave Lilith a soft pat on the head."Now it time for bed. You have lessons in the morning." Lilith stuck out her tongue.
"Phooey …" she said in a whispering sleepy voice. As the queen studied her daughter's face she could see her eyelids growing heavier and the gentle kitten-like nod of her head. She lay her down carefully on the bed and took her heavy green winter robe off the hook by her bedside and wrapped it around herself then lifted the tiny girl and her scaled companion into her arms and slowly quietly made her way down the hall.
She opened the door with a soft creak, carefully removed her daughter's robe (waiting for the little dragon to hop off and curl itself on pillow close to where Lilith would be lying slipping under the covers) then carefully lifted the blankets and placed her daughter inside them tucking her up to her chin.
Fae smiled and stroked her soft wavy hair. "Sleep well, my little flower," she whispered kissing the top her head drawing the curtain closed. She stood up gracefully and walked to the desk where her candle was left, and as she went to take it she noticed some drawings on it.
The first was of her. Among the pieces of colored charcoal strewn about the top of the desk was picture of her and her long brown braid, a bunch of tiny circles in a long line, while the rest of her was a very simplified version of herself, but it definitely looked accurate. Her eyes were the same color green – she even had lashes – and her lips were a bright red. She chuckled softly. Her daughter could be a artist if she wasn't a princess.
Then she paused at a picture that struck a cord in her heart. The image showed a tiny version of Lilith with Silva looking sad, while the other children pointed and laughed. The dragon queen bit her lip. She knew the rumors that were said about her because she was a foreigner. Some said she was a witch who had enchanted the king and had his child. That was typical of nobles who vied for the throne. A whore, they called her, and she ignored them. But then they began to say Lilith was some kind of monster, and the cold looks of disdain became more noticeable.
Their contempt for her daughter hurt her worse than anything said about her. Lilith was the greatest gift she had ever received, and she was the only thing that meant anything to her when having to deal with politics, running the government, or trying to avoid making enemies in her castle (which was next to impossible given her reputation). Her daughter's sweet presence made the strife and stress more bearable, but at times seemed to make it worse. Having adults say such things about Fae herself was terrible, but when they said it about her daughter, it was even worse. Their children were the worst, always saying horrible things about Lilith and excluding her from their games, or worse, making her play the monster. She had trouble with her words, and was clumsy, often tripping on her silken skirt, falling face first, making her a perfect victim for ridicule.
She cried so much. Almost everyday she would come to her mother sniffling or wailing for her. It was painful to see, and at times her sobbing became unbearable to Fae, and would irritate her. There were times even she, with all her love for her daughter, sometimes wished she would just fight back a bit more or just simply stop crying so much.
It was all so tiring, She stroked the hand-drawn image of her daughter tenderly, guilt gripping her heart, How she wished her husband was here now, but the great dragon king Fieon of the Mitchondial bloodline was away on a trip to the Twilight Realm, as he had been for the past two weeks. She knew allying with the Twili would be helpful in case something truly catastrophic occurred. It was a pity the king had killed himself, leaving his teenaged daughter to ascend the throne. Midna was her name. Fae could only hope she did a better job ruling than her mad father had.
The thought of how selfish a parent must be to end their lives like that, leaving their child alone, was simply unforgivable to the queen. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as her rapidly beating heart slowed. Just thinking about Lilith in this world without her at only three or four was terrifying to the graceful lady. She looked to her daughter, who slept quietly, innocently. She wished that her innocence would last forever, but she knew it couldn't. She sighed. She was so grateful for the friendship of Hyrule's princess. Zelda was a lovely Hylian girl, with pale blonde hair and amethyst eyes and, of course the pointed, slender ears of her race.
She always had a smile for Lilith when she visited, even if she seemed to annoy her at times, or when she came to visit here. From the time the two met about a year ago they had become as close as sisters, a truly special bond. The heavy snows and ice had kept them away most of the winter. Lilith asked her daily when her friend would come, and every day Fae would tell her she would have to wait until snowmelt, at which her daughter would stamp her feet and poke her lip in a little fit then turn back to the window, and whine to the snow to go away, as if it would obey. At first she had laughed at her daughter's little display, until she noticed the nobles whispering and pointing, then the word"doormat" reached her ears. She'd yelled at Lilith, she'd cried. She gave a heavy sigh, stroking the image of her daughter one last time. It had broken her heart.
Then she looked to her daughter's other pieces of art. One was of her soon-to-be arms instructor with his large powerful arms and his green dragon in its large form. It was tradition that all Caladonian nobles know how to fight. It had concerned Fae. Lilith was a sweet, gentle young girl, but she would have to grow to be a fighter. Tradition demanded it. They would come to a point where Fae could no longer protect her from the world any longer.
That had been about a month ago, before the snows became too heavy. She rubbed her arm. Just a month ago before the heavy snows set in, one of the most spoiled noble children, a brat named Edrin from the eastern regions, had come with his father to speak with her about a landslide that was blocking a farming village. He had tripped her daughter into the mud. Thankfully she had so much mud on her face that her tears were very hard to see. Zelda had helped clean her face, and then her daughter had grabbed a handful of mud and struck him right in the gob. Her mouth quirked as she remembered him running to his father, spitting out brown muck as he did so, telling him of how her"brutish daughter," as his father had put it, had thrown mud at him. Lilith had gone to apologize to the boy after being glared at by the father. He had neither rejected nor accepted her apology, just sat there in sullen silence, his arms crossed, lip poked out, pride wounded as mud slid down his cheeks. It took a glare from the Hylian princess to get the boy to accept the apology.
She sighed. She wondered if her daughter would ever be able to carry the burden of being a true royal on her shoulders. She barely paid any attention in her studies and whined when she was training. Her teachers were always coming to the queen with their complaints about her lack of motivation and attention. The queen handled the affairs of state and court in her husband's long absence, and their complaints made it all the more difficult for her to tend to them. Fae sighed and took her candle, heading to the door. She thought of her empty bed, with a spot where her husband usually slept, cold and empty. She felt a pang of hurt in her chest. She missed he king.
As she opened a door she felt like she wasn't alone. She looked from one side of the hall down to the other, but there was nothing but the sound of the cold wind outside. She continued to walk to her room, whereupon noticed that the light was bright under the door, as though the fire had been rekindled. She blew out her candle so as not to give herself away, squared off her shoulders and slowly opened the eyes narrowed as she looked at the intruder, who was someone all too familiar.
Lidial was bent over the fireplace, poking at the now roaring blaze.
"You should really watch this fire," he said, his honey blond hair turning a hint of red in the warm firelight. He stood straight, putting the fire poker back in its place, adjusting his violet robe.
"We would not want the queen to catch her death of cold," he said, turning his ice blue eyes to the queen. His draconic partner was lying on top of the fireplace casually, its bronze scales making it look like a statue, its yellow eyes burning like coals as it eyed the queen. She clasped her hands tightly in front her, her face blank
"No one gave you permission to enter my chambers," she said lowly, gripping her hands tight. He smiled a feline smile, running a hand through his nape-length hair,
"Oh, don't be so cold, cousin-in-law," he said, approaching her slowly like a predatory cat.
"I just thought you would like a warm fire to return to, after walking that gods-forsakenly cold hall." He kept his eyes on her, never moving his gaze. She glared back at him unflinchingly.
"I am no relative of yours," she hissed softly as he stood in front of her, a few good inches taller then she. His partner flew to his shoulder, perching on it like a little gargoyle, his gaze also fixed on the dragonless queen. Lidial put a hand over his heart as if struck.
"How you wound me, your grace," he said, in a mockingly hurt tone."So cruel you are." She lifted her chin in a haughty display.
"Get out!" she said in angry hushed tone."Or ill-" Abruptly, he cupped her chin.
"Call the guards? I wouldn't. Can you imagine the rumors that might spread?" His hand traveled down her throat, tracing the soft hollow at the base of her neck, making her skin crawl and her stomach churn in disgust.
"The queen seen in her quarters with the king's cousin … tsk tsk." He continued to trace her neck slowly. "The nobles' tongues would wag, wouldn't they …" She smacked his hand away.
"My answer is still and will always be no," she whispered, moving away from him half a step. He just kept the lazy catlike grin on his face.
"Oh, this has nothing to do with that," he told her in a voice with a deep rumble in it, almost like a growl.
"I just wanted to give you a bit of friendly advice." He wrapped his finger around a loose piece of her silky hair, twisting it tightly, making Fae wince.
"You should be careful whom you anger," he whispered softly. Fae's heart beat fiercely in her chest at the veiled threat. He released her hair and walked out, his dragon brother following on silent wings. Once he was gone the door shut, and Fae fell to her knees, shaking heavily, praying winter would end soon.