Disclaimer: I don't own it.
2/2/13-Edited a bit, made a change to the story Cyrus tells Linn, but nothing major
Evan crept quietly into the forest, his deft movements making only the smallest of sounds as he maneuvered through the underbrush. As the trees got denser, he noticed something strange. The forest looked much the same, however, all of the usual sounds of the forest: the rustling of leaves, the chirping of birds, the miscellaneous sounds of life within the forest, were muffled somehow. It was almost as if a heavy woolen blanket had settled over the area, making all of the sounds muddled and distorted.
Instantly, Evan's senses were on full alert. As a former member of the Royal Guard, danger was something he was intimately familiar with, and this was beginning to look potentially dangerous indeed. Evan narrowed his eyes and scanned his surroundings, dagger loosely grasped in his hand.
The forest looked deceptively ordinary, trees standing proudly and displaying their leaves, now beginning to change colors. Evan spotted a small field mouse, skittering from hole to the next. The fugitive watched the little rodent somewhat absently, watching as it scampered and then disappeared. The illusion rippled at the point where the mouse has entered before settling back into place.
Immediately, Evan's eyes shot wide. He should have been able to sense a barrier of that size, the sheer amount of glamour should have tipped him off as soon has he got within five hundred feet if not farther. This was bad. Someone incredibly powerful had made this, and did not want to be found.
He whirled around, knowing when to retreat, and was met with four archers, bows at the ready and aimed at his heart, looking solemn. All four of them looked nearly identical. Mahogany brown eyes illuminated bloodless white faces, framed by platinum blonde hair and wore gold studs in their pointed ears. They were well camouflaged with bark and leaves attached to their clothes, their elongated limbs making them blend in even better to their surroundings.
"You are the faerie they search for, are you not?" The one on the far left said quietly.
Evan clenched his jaw but didn't say anything, meeting the strange faerie's stare head on. He gripped his dagger a little tighter and waited.
"You are the one who tried to assassinate the Queen of Summer, the one whose blood is demanded by the Summer King?" another one tried, using the same monotone inflections.
Evan gave a short nod. "I am. I was betrayed and it was unintentional, but yes. It is I who Keenan wants dead. Am I to assume you will be obliging him?" he asked tightly.
At the exact same time, all four of the tall archers grinned and let the strings gently back to their original places. One in the middle reached behind his back, pulling out a small round device. Evan panicked, lunging away and accidentally dropping his dagger as the faerie pressed a button and a large net sprung forth from the device. It was too late; the net had already surrounded him, trapping him inside. Evan thrashed, flailing his arms and kicking his legs as the four archers watched and waited calmly.
"Peace. We mean you no harm. Our leader has business with you," the one on the far left said, putting down his bow and holding out his hands in a placating gesture.
"Who is this leader?" Evan snarled, "Out for a reward I suppose."
Out of nowhere Evan was thrown against a tree, still tangled in the net. He coughed and gasped for breath. His head throbbed and for a moment he saw black spots fill his vision.
"Watch yourself. We do not tolerate slights against our regent. You will come with us one way or another. Will you cooperate?" The faerie spoke calmly and quietly, his lips right next to Evan's ear, a dagger to his throat.
"Yes," Evan said, discreetly leaning away from the blade.
"Good."
Keenan walked into Ash's room quietly, locking the door behind him. He looked down upon her sleeping form, her arms above her head as she snored softly. Keenan chuckled and swept a lock of hair away from her eyes. It was times like these that he savored. The times when he could imagine that they were actually acting as proper regents of Summer.
Together.
It wasn't the first time he had harbored such thoughts for Ash. Though he loved Donia, the nagging feeling of guilt never left every time he went to see her. He felt like Fate was toying with him by finally finding his Queen and then realizing she loved another. Though, back in those days, he had consoled himself with the fact that it came down to a waiting game. Keenan had known that Seth would not live forever, not even close.
Now her mortal was dead, Keenan had won the game of time, but now what? He still could not find the strength to cut ties with Donia who had loved him when had so desperately needed it. Despite his bravado, he could not bear it if Aislinn were to deny him her love, to be rejected should he actually make a heartfelt attempt to attain it. Surely he could make her desire him, but love was another matter entirely.
Aislinn rolled over, bringing her hands down to pillow her face. Keenan smiled ever so slightly. She was beautiful when she slept; so vulnerable and serene, unmasked by her brave façade. If only she would let him in, to trust him enough to let him see into her heart.
Keenan sighed. Of course she wouldn't. Despite being his queen, Keenan knew that her heart had always been held with a firm grasp by Seth.
But Seth was dead: gone forever. And Ash's heart was in desperate need of a gentle and loving hand to meticulously piece back the broken fragments of her fragile heart.
"I could help you if only you would try to love me, Ash," he whispered, placing a kiss on her forehead. "If you would only trust me, I'll prove it to you."
Keenan stood and turned to leave when he heard a small sniffle. His looked back at his queen and saw tears rolling down her face, eyes tightly closed. Immediately, Keenan was beside her. Gently he touched her cheek, wiping away a tear. "What is it?" he asked softly.
"I'm so sorry. I want to trust you, Keenan," she whispered, "but it terrifies me."
"Ash, look at me," he said firmly, turning her chin. Watery green eyes gazed up at him. "I know you are hurting. I know that you loved Seth very deeply. I know that you don't love me. I know that it will take time, but I also know that we could be extraordinary together. Please, can you give it a chance? I'm not asking for anything more than for you to open your heart to me. Please?"
Aislinn bit her lip.
"What have you got to lose?" Keenan tried.
"Whatever is left of my heart," she murmured. She fixed her eyes upon him once more and narrowed them. She wiped her face solemnly and cleared her throat. Keenan held her gaze silently.
"I will try," she said.
Keenan's heart nearly stopped beating. Slowly and carefully, so as not to frighten her, Keenan reached for his queen, pulling her into his strong embrace. "Thank you," he murmured into her hair. "I won't let you down."
She sat still, quiet and unresponsive, but Keenan didn't mind. She had given him a chance, after all these years. It was enough.
Linn sat curled in a protective ball at the top of the bed and watched Cyrus. He was currently stretched out beside her, smirking at her blatant distrust. Since her poorly planned escape attempt earlier that day, Cyrus has not let her out of his sight, something Linn found both frustrating and unsettling.
So far, Cyrus had not attempted to make conversation with her, simply content to just stare and be near her. Occasionally, he would hum an unfamiliar tune, once even singing softly in a language she couldn't understand. Linn had not spoken a single word since the strange man had tended to her hands and meticulously cleaned her blood from the completely undamaged window, instead thinking over her dwindling options.
Her escape plan had been woefully unplanned and now she was under the continual scrutiny of her captor with no more knowledge for it. With a pang of worry she thought of Joshua. What would he think when he discovered she was not there? Would he call the police or think that she had run away. Maybe she could call—
Her cell phone. If only she could find where they put it, she could call Joshua and he would rescue her. Linn looked around the room discreetly, wondering where her street clothes had gone to. When she glanced back to where Cyrus was laying, she found an empty space instead.
"What are you looking for, my pet, so lost in thought? Something important?" his smooth voice murmured in her ear. With a jolt, Linn jumped away only to be held tightly in place by a pair of arms around her waist. "Be still, love. I won't harm you; I simply want you near me."
Linn was so tense that her muscles were trembling. She could feel warm breath on her neck and tried not to whimper. He exuded power, she could feel it, and it frightened her.
"What is it that frightens you so?" Cyrus asked softly.
"I still don't know why I am here and why I can't leave," she whispered. "Just please let me go, I won't tell anyone about anything. I just want to go home. Please." Her throat began to feel tight with emotion, "Let me get back to my brother."
Cyrus nuzzled her head comfortingly, giving her a small squeeze, "There now, pet. Hush. Let's have a small chat, then, you and I. Does that sound alright?" When he got a small nod from Linn he continued.
"Shall I tell you a story? It's not quite finished yet, but there is a fair chance of a happy ending to it. Although," he added with a small chuckle, "happiness is a rather subjective thing." Cyrus leaned back on the pillows behind him, dragging a wary Linn with him.
"How shall I begin? Ah, yes. Once upon a time…"
Once upon a time, there was a faery King. He was a good King, most of the time, that is. This King liked to dally with danger, a weakness of his to say the least, especially when it came to dangerous women. His first love was dangerous indeed, a powerful faery that he had met in his travels around the world. He found pieces of himself within her, restless, difficult to contain, and full of fire. They were well matched.
The King and his lover were relatively happy together, being of like mind and demeanor, burning everything in their path. Eventually, though, the King left his consort, searching for a thrill that had left him. By the time he found out that he had sired a child, he had already found his next target.
She was a feisty little Ice Queen this time, one that met him blow for blow, move for move. They were a powerful pair, though they fought like cobras, and eventually they, too, produced a child, a boy named Keenan. At this time, the Ice Queen turned out to be more than the King could handle, killing him without a second thought before the child had even been born.
Young Keenan naturally assumed his father's throne, since the King had never told anyone of his eldest child, his true heir. Things were not easy for the new King; his powers were bound, leaving him virtually powerless without his fated queen. Countless years passed until his shining star appeared, a beautiful mortal named Aislinn, finally setting him free. In an ironic turn of events, however, she was in love with a mortal boy, driving Keenan back into the arms of the new Ice Queen, his previous love.
You may ask what happened to the first son, the one cheated out of his birthright. He simply bided his time, waiting for things to play out. And play out they did. Queen Aislinn's mortal love married another and had two children, a boy and a girl, leaving Queen Aislinn alone. Vulnerable.
So what was the powerful bastard son with no inheritance to do with this information? Luckily, the mortal's young daughter was beautiful, strong and happened to be under the protection of both the Summer and Winter courts. This little girl was the key to the firstborn's success, and so one night, he gave her his own small protection, binding her to him when she was but a few months old.
The years drew on and still the rightful heir waited patiently, and when the time was right, he sprung his trap.
"And that is where our tale ends, though it is far from over," Cyrus finished, absently stroking Linn's exposed arm.
Linn blinked away the haze of Cyrus's masterful storytelling and cleared her throat. "I, um, I'm not sure if I understand completely."
"But you will, pet. Believe me," Cyrus said with certainty.
Just then, a knock came at the door. Linn felt Cyrus's arms tense almost reflexively before uttering a curt, "Enter."
A small boy with feathers intermixed with his hair and beady black eyes poked his head in the doorway. "Sire, the traitor has been apprehended. He is waiting for you." The boy's head was always in constant motion, small and jerky, but his eyes never left Cyrus. Linn shuddered at the steady focus of the boy's gaze.
"Thank you, you may go," Cyrus replied, letting go of Linn to dismiss the boy with a wave of his hand. The bird boy nodded swiftly and left, leaving the two of them alone once more. Cyrus shifted Linn in his grasp to look at her face.
"I have business to attend to now," he grabbed her chin in his hand. "Can you behave yourself?"
Linn tried to look innocent.
Cyrus sighed, "I thought not. Right, then. You will accompany me, love, and you will not interfere or I will be less than pleased, do you understand me?" His eyes were intently serious. Linn nodded.
"Good. Shall we?"
Joshua sat anxiously by the door, waiting for his girlfriend Melinda who was due to arrive at any moment. Surely she would know what to do about all of this mess. She always seemed to know what to do, what to say. She just knew.
Dexter played with his toys on a blanket on the floor nearby, oblivious to his father's turmoil. The note-turned-leaf lay on the table, looing innocent and inconspicuous. Joshua chose not to look at it, instead focusing on the window, waiting for Melinda.
The phone rang, startling Joshua so badly he flinched. Quickly he walked over and checked the caller ID. His heart sank: a telemarketer. Half of him had expected it to be Linn, calling to tell him that she was alright and coming back soon. With a sigh, he hit the ignore button.
As he set down the phone, he heard a soft knock at the door. His heart flooded with relief: Melinda had arrived. Things were going to be alright.
The moment he opened the door she wrapped her arms around him and he was filled with warmth and a feeling of calm came over him. Eagerly, Josh embraced her tightly, breathing in her flowery perfume. She pulled back and cupped his face in her hands, looking at him intently.
"Everything is fine, do you understand me? Perfectly fine," she said evenly, crystal blue eyes strong and confident.
Josh nodded dumbly and Melinda nodded and moved over to her son who was still playing on the floor. She picked him up and kissed his cheeks lovingly, cooing into his ear.
It was a heartwarming sight, seeing mother and son together, both with soft blonde curls and blue eyes. Melinda looked at him again, walking over and smiling at him.
"So, what is for dinner?" she asked with a smile.
Josh shrugged and grinned in response, walking over to the kitchen. On his way he passed a leaf on the counter. He quirked an eyebrow, confused as to how it had gotten there and why anyone would save a leaf of all things. Ignoring the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that told him something was not right, he threw it away, turning back to his girlfriend and son.
Everything was always fine when Melinda was around.
