A Fickle Fingered Fate
Chapter 13
Arrow of Doubts
Thunderous hoofbeats droned at the edge of Toffee's mind, like the buzzing of insects, unimportant as he focused on fleeing. Heart beating quick in his chest, he ignored the discomfort in his shoulder, his flesh healing and tearing in a vicious cycle as the gallop caused the arrow to jolt about. His hand was tightly fisted in the fabric of his wife's dress, clutching her firmly to his torso. She held onto his jacket, face buried against his chest.
Despite the looming danger, something stirred inside him at the sight of this terrified creature taking shelter in his arms. The urge to shield her from harm only seemed to grow. He spurred his unicorn into a faster gallop.
The trees thinned out, the village within sight, his people going on about their day unknowing of the danger. Balancing with his knees gripping his mount's sides, he raised his fingers to his lips, letting loose a loud, shrill whistle with three sharp notes-a signal for danger. Heads turned staring for several seconds before they scattered like leaves in the wind, a few sending the signal along with whistles of their own.
They shot past the confused monsters, weaving through the streets and crowds, ignoring the ruckus left in their wake. By the time Toffee reached the gates of the castle, the guards were already on alert. Pulling back on the braids, the unicorn's hooves slid as it came to a swift halt.
He slipped off the saddle, holding Mia in his arms as he sprinted up the stairs to the castle doors. Only once they were inside did he risk barking orders at the warriors surrounding them. They were to scout the area, get every civilian to safety, and hunt down whoever had attacked them.
To his relief, Renata came rushing down from the second floor with Rasticore on her heels as he reached the stairs. "What's going on?" she asked, watching as Toffee carefully set Mia down. "Is that an a-?!"
"Not now," he hissed, and turned to Rasticore. "Pull it out, quickly."
Mia's pale face turned up, her large eyes looking lost and bewildered. "Pull what-"
"Tilt your head down." He gently pushed her head down again, biting his tongue as the green reptilian ripped the arrow from his flesh. "Did they hit you? They shot faster than I expected..." His hand paused, gripping a lock of her hair, his stomach twisting.
The other arrow hadn't met flesh, but it hadn't missed either. Several inches of her silken hair had been claimed, and he mentally swore vilely. A few second later and the arrow would have gone through her torso instead of her hair. "Toffee?" He jerked at her timid, trembling voice. "You're scaring me-what is it?"
His mouth opened to tell her, but instead he directed his words to Rasticore. "Go search with the others-look for the porcupine beast. I sent him after them."
Mia pushed his hand away to raise her head. "Toffee, what-" The queen froze, her eyes focusing on the arrow in Rasticore's fist, fletched with silky blue and gold feathers and tipped with a stylized arrowhead. Pushing herself to her feet, she all but snatched the arrow from the green reptilian, cradling it between trembling fingers. "I-it...it can't be..."
A touch against her shoulder made her jump, clutching the polished wooden shaft tight as she turned back to her husband. His expression was schooled, calm and careful, yet she could feel concern radiating from him. "Can't be what?" he asked cautiously, sounding hesitant to pull anything from her in her current state. "You recognize it?"
Her hands shook as their knuckles turned white. It was suddenly so hard to breathe as dread, horror, and a swirl of other emotions washed through her. "I..." Her throat seemed to pinch shut, choking her voice into silence out of fear; fear of answering, and not answering.
Warring thoughts clashed in her head, feelings battling within her heart, moralities struggling inside her very soul.
If she said...
But if she didn't...
Yet if he already knew...
Despite feeling as if she were falling apart inside, on the outside she simply looked numbed and mildly shocked, if not a little shaken. Toffee watched her for a moment, then turned to his sister. "Take her upstairs with you," he instructed. "Stay together in your room until we settle this."
Renata blinked at him, then slowly took hold of Mia's wrist, much like how one who handle a frightened rabbit, and gently tugged her into following her up the stairs.
O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O
The sun began to make its way down its arching path in the sky by the time the excitement died down. Scouts returned one by one, each reporting their findings, or lack there of. Most turned up nothing, few found evidence of an intruder, Mewnian footprints, a foreign scent. However the biggest piece of evidence came from the porcupine upon its return.
Dirty with dried mud and leaves covering its blue and green coat, it came racing back through the village and ran straight to its stall in the castle's stables. Buff Frog discovered it scratching at its stall door, and quickly alerted Toffee to its return. When the king arrived in the stables, the beast snorted and shuffled happily at the sight of him.
He patted its head, stroking its wet forehead. "And where have you been?" he murmured, looking over the creature briefly for immediate signs of injury. But with so much muck covering it, it was hard to spot any wounds. "I'll have you cleaned up soon, my friend. You've earned it."
Duke rumbled, shoving its muzzle into his hand, pressing its tongue to his palm. Only, that didn't feel like it's tongue. In fact it actually spat it out into his hand. With a slight grimace he looked at the little 'gift', frowning at the bright blue lump in his hand. Despite sitting in the beast's mouth for some time, it was easy to tell it was fabric of some sort, and unnatural.
It confirmed what he had already suspected, and dreaded. A high ranking Mewnian noble was behind the attack, and he only had one name in mind.
O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O
Mia numbly stared at the arrow still clutched in her grasp. It felt like a pit had formed inside her, swallowing everything. Her heart sank low, her stomach tying itself into knots. She knew what this tiny thing would spark, it would make everything she had sacrificed pointless.
A hand suddenly held the arrow, gently tugging it from her hold. She looked up as Renata took it to the small table across the room and set it down with great care. "It was your dad, right?" she asked quietly. "He sent somebody to kill Toffee, didn't he?"
On instinct, Mia opened her mouth to defend her father, but the truth choked the words of loyalty to silence. She lowered her head, staring at her hands. Traces of blood smeared across the fingers of her gloves. Her husband's blood, who had taken an arrow while protecting her.
"Why didn't you say anything?" The queen looked up at the question, meeting Renata's anxious expression. "You knew it the second you saw the arrow-why didn't you say anything?!"
She knew why she hadn't, but how could she say it aloud anymore than she could downstairs? Her throat already felt tight, her eyes beginning to sting. She wanted to defend herself, to explain her hesitation. But as she took a breath to speak, a whimper escaped instead.
Renata stared stunned as the woman suddenly dissolved into a weeping mess in front of her, hot tears falling down her cheeks as harsh sobs wrenched themselves from her chest. "Why are you crying?!" she snapped, her own eyes blurring with salty droplets. "You're fine! Stop it..."
The princess felt anger, frustration over Mia's silence. She needed to be upset with somebody or she would terrify herself thinking about everything, but her sister-in-law was making it impossible to be angry with her. So, she did the only thing that seemed appropriate given the situation.
Renata stepped back over to her, wrapping her arms around the Mewnian, pulling her into a tight hug. "Stop crying," she lightly scolded with a sniffle, wiping her lashes under her glasses. "You're not hurt, okay? Toffee isn't gonna be mad at you."
Mia clung to the younger lady, burying her face against her slim shoulder. "I can't...Re, my father-! He tried to-" A rough hiccup caused her to choke, another sob quickly following. "And I just couldn't! Oh Goddess! What am I going to do?"
"You aren't going to do anything," said Renata. "WE are-together. Like it or not, we're family, okay? Maybe we still don't like each other a lot, but that doesn't mean I want to see you get hurt. So we're gonna figure this out, alright? Family isn't blood, loyalty makes you family, and if Toffee thinks you're good enough, then I guess that's good enough for me!"
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"I never thought I'd end up here."
"Laying in my bed? Heh, I'd find it weird if you did."
Despite the situation, Mia found a slight smile tug at her lips. "No, I meant with all of this." She sighed, shifting slightly upon Renata's bed, turning her head to glance at the princess. "I came here to prevent more killing...but it seems like it was just a wasted effort. I'm sorry I put you through this for nothing, Renata-you and your brother."
Renata hugged one of her pillows close, shrugging slightly. "It's okay. I mean, I wish Toffee would have found a girl he liked...but let's face it, he's not exactly a lady charmer. I think he would have made a political match even if he hadn't married you. At least you aren't here for his wealth or his power."
"I suppose you're right, you'd know better than me when it comes to him."
A few hours had passed by, and after they had calmed down, they had taken to lounging on Renata's bed, staring up at the ceiling. It seemed they had that habit in common when they had a lot on their minds. Now the sun had set, and Mia didn't have the courage to leave the room.
The queen sighed, sitting up. She smoothed a hand over her hair, looking out one of the room's windows. All she could see was the dark, which felt somehow both empty and suffocating. "I don't know what to do with myself now. Even with the clear evidence...I couldn't accuse my father." Another sigh escaped her as she dropped her face into her hand. "I don't know what to do."
"You could just tell him now," Renata suggested as she sat up herself. "It's not like you defended him."
"I might as well have," she murmured. "Honestly, I feel so stupid-thinking he'd actually let everything go just because I told him to. My father was never one to be denied whatever he desired. My mother hated that about him..."
"Is that why they don't live together?" asked the princess as she too sat up, setting the pillow on her lap. "You said she lives by the sea now, right?"
Mia nodded, tucking a few stray curls behind her ear. "They started fighting when was-what, three or four? They tried not to argue in front of me, but that ended rather quickly. Soon they couldn't be in the same room without shouts breaking out. They finally split up when I was ten, and they've rarely spoken since."
"That's strange to think about," Renata commented. "I couldn't imagine my parents fighting like that."
"From what I've been told, they actually loved each other. Your mother gave up her whole life as she'd known it to be to run away with your father. Nobody would do such a thing on a mere whim or out of curiosity."
That made the princess smile. "I like to think of their lives kinda like a fairytale. I actually thought Toffee made the whole thing up when I was little, like a bedtime story."
"It does sound like one, doesn't it?" Another sigh escaped the queen. "I wonder what they would have done...obviously they'd have handled this better than me. I feel like such a failure."
"Is there anything you could do to fix this?" Renata asked hesitantly. "I know you can't control what he does, but do you have any clue on how to go about stopping this?"
Mia pushed herself to her feet, her skirt wrinkled and messy as it fell into place. "If I did, we wouldn't be in this situation." She crossed over to the window, gazing down at the village below. The cozy glow of the houses was like fireflies in the dark, soft and flickering in the gloom. "If we can't stop him from attacking, we'll have to declare war, and if we declare war..."
They would be doomed.
Placing a hand over her face, she rested her forehead against the cool glass, her fingers trembling. 'Goddess, give me strength.'
O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O
He had waited. Hours had ticked by agonizingly slow, time seeming to crawl during the emergency meeting with the council. He had sat silently for the most part after he had presented his damning evidence. The scrap of silk had been enough to spark a riot within the room.
He let them argue and yell, debate and whisper, while the gears in his head were ever turning. Moves were calculated, scenarios played out and tweaked, actions and reactions taken into account. The king was planning out his war on his imaginary battlefield.
Yet one image haunted his thoughts. One scenario plagued his mind. Frightened blue eyes, tears and blood upon periwinkle moons. One inch. That was all it would have taken, and the woman who had trusted him would have died without even realizing her fate.
The slam of a fist against the table had jarred him from his thoughts as Romulus looked ready to leap across in a fit of anger. It was at that point that he had had enough, and with the simple statement of 'we will continue this later', he had abruptly departed. He vaguely heard Lekmet making an appointment for them to return tomorrow afternoon, but at the moment he hadn't cared to listen.
He could replay the entire day in his head from start to finish, and yet he couldn't figure out how he had ended up here; sitting on the foot of his bed, glancing between the doors, the clock, and the crackling blaze of the hearth. Conflict and hesitation kept him rooted to the spot like a tree. He knew where she was, and why she was there.
So why didn't he fetch her?
The question irked him, but his feet didn't move. Part of him wanted her to walk through those doors on her own, to come to him, even if he had told her to do otherwise. Yet he also wanted to rush to his sister's room and make sure she truly hadn't been hurt, to reassure her.
The look on her face flashed through his mind. She had been afraid. Not nervous and anxious to the point of near panic like when he had first delivered her to his home. No, that was the look of a caged animal surrounded by rabid wolves. In that moment, she had truly feared for her safety.
Never would he admit it aloud, and barely even to himself, but it had stung him. Surely she knew he would never harm her, or allow her to be harmed...didn't she?
'Yes, because your people have made her feel so at home and welcomed,' said a little sarcastic voice in his head. 'Her fears are well founded. You know most monsters wouldn't hesitate to seek revenge for their slain loved ones. She is a lamb before the butches, and you know it.'
A pain in his hand drew him slowly from the dark dreck swirling in his head. His claws had dug into his palm, breaking the scaly skin. Loosening his grip, he watched numbly as it healed.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
Her voice rang in his ears, the ghost of her touch gliding over his palm as he remembered the evening after he had lost his arm. She'd been a nervous kitten, wanting to tend to him, but afraid of causing more harm than good.
"Do you need anything? Is there something I can do?"
It had been amusing to watch her. His endearing wife actually acting like a spouse, and not even realizing it. Her tender heart had been on her sleeve that day, and it had put a smile on his tired lips. He'd awoken the next morning to discover she'd hardly slept, and had snuck off to the kitchen before dawn. She'd even made his breakfast herself.
His mouth twitched as he recalled wiping a smudge of flour off her cheek with his thumb, at the way she smiled when he thanked her for the meal. He remembered how tired she'd looked, but how determined she'd been to pamper him in his 'recovery'.
Before he realized it, Toffee was already out the door, walking with a purposeful stride to his sister's room. When he reached the door, no lights glowed within, and all was silent. He slowly turned the handle, peeking inside.
Stepping lightly, the reptilian soundlessly glided into the room, crossing to the large bed. On one side slept his sister, hugging a pillow lightly to her chest. On the other side lay his wife. She hadn't had the chance to tie up her hair for the night like she had always done before, and it lay spread out like a silken cloud around her head. One arm lay across her torso, while the other rested upon her forehead. Her lips were ever so slightly parted, as if she were awaiting a kiss in her dreams.
The romanticized image looked like a golden age era masterpiece painting. It would be the sort of artwork that would have people admiring it for ages to come. Yet he would be the only one to see it.
The king slowly leaned over his slumbering wife, carefully slipping his arms beneath her, and lifting her from the bed. She felt tiny in his hold, delicate as fine crystal. He held her securely to his chest, letting her head rest upon his shoulder as he carried her out of the room, closing the door with a flick of his tail as they left.
He liked the weight of her in his arms, he decided as he headed back to their chambers. She felt comfortable there, just the right size and shape to mold nicely against him. His head lowered slightly without thought, his lips brushing across her forehead with a feather light touch.
Her eyelids slowly lifted, and he froze in mid step. Her hooded gaze sleepily wandered up to his, her slightly confused look morphing into a tired smile. Delicate fingers brushed against his jaw briefly, a soft lazy caress that sent a shiver down his spine. She shifted slightly, snuggly her head against his shoulder, while her hand fell against his chest as she melted back into her dreams.
Toffee stood in the middle of the hall for nearly a full minute, his mind an utter blank. When he finally managed to move once again, he held his wife just a little closer as he carried her to their bed.