Thanks for the reviews, favs, and follows! Hope you enjoy this chapter! (Thanks to Matthew1972 and Sarajm for some idea bouncing, and to Nance for proof reading!)
There were definite marks on the floor from her pacing. No one else would have been able to detect them, but she could almost see the path her feet had crossed time and again. For days, she had walked the stones like a caged animal.
One old man had come to her and apologized for her captivity. It was for her own good, he had said. The way he spoke made her feel as if he blamed himself...not for her imprisonment, but for her supposed memory loss.
Aylass could remember everything that had happened, as clear as she could see her hand in front of her face. Her arguments seemed to fall on deaf ears. The old man would just offer her a sad smile and tell her that he was working on the problem.
"I assume you have conspired with your husband's advisor on the upcoming matter of your return to Avalon, as I refused to assist you before. I fear whatever you have done with him has caused this. I will do what I can to put it right before that day comes."
He rose and left her without another word the day before. Men who refused to, or couldn't, speak guarded the door to the elaborate room she had been thrust in. One maid came and went, picking up the room and delivering food. She never said a word and never made eye contact, even though Aylass had tried desperately to engage the young girl.
Had the circumstances been different, Aylass would have enjoyed the lavish quarters with its plush bedding and fancy furniture. It was as different as night and day from the decrepit castle dungeon where Cernunnos had kept her, but in the end it was still just another cell.
She wrapped her arms around herself, wishing they were Gwaine's. He was out there somewhere. She knew it in her heart; out there looking for her...if he wasn't stuck in some sort of prison himself.
Her father... she still couldn't believe he had been in the doorway after the blast of magic. It seemed surreal and she wondered if it had been her imagination. Before the Cauldron was brought into the room, there had been no outward signs of recovery from Tristan. Part of her had just wished he would die peacefully, instead of dragging on in his comatose state.
Was he in some cell with Gwaine? Had she dreamed that he was even there? Thoughts raced non-stop through her head. If they managed to escape, were they looking for her together? And the others, she wondered what had happened to them in this odd place.
She spun around as the door opened, expecting the maid to come and take away the uneaten plates of food that had been served to her that morning.
Instead, she was surprised to see the old man entering. He was the only one who had spoken to her, and she was ready to have her questions answered.
"Forgive me, I have made a grievous error. When I secured you to these chambers, I thought you were someone else."
Aylass felt her breath knocked out of her at his admission. "So, you'll let me go?"
He shook his head and moved away from the door. "Sadly, it will not be so easy. You will need to remain hidden here for just a bit longer."
"But, the people I was with, my father...Gwaine. What has happened to them? They must be worried about me. I need to get back to them!"
"Oh, they are safe and well. I managed to facilitate their release yesterday. It was through them that I finally saw my mistake. Bran thinks quite highly of you and it was his words that swayed me into believing you are not who I thought you were. The real queen arrived this morning with the High King and his...sorcerer. If you were to be taken out of here now, there would be many more questions."
She noticed the disdain in his voice when he spoke of the magic user, as if it were a foul taste in his mouth. "What are you talking about?"
"How much do you know of the King of the Faeries?"
"Who?"
"He is also called Cernunnos, The Lord of Beasts."
Aylass shivered and withdrew from the old man. "He is the one who has kept me imprisoned for the past year. My father... Cernunnos was holding him so that I would behave. He kept calling me Florie."
He gave a low chuckle. "Then, I am not the only one who was fooled by your similarities."
"What similarities? I don't even know this Florie. She died centuries before I was even born!"
"Do you know how she died?" The old man asked. His eyes widened with unbridled curiosity.
Aylass shook her head. "As I said, it was centuries before my time!"
"Hmph. Well, here and now, she is still very much alive. She is the wife of High King Bruta, and the daughter of the Faerie King."
"Faerie King?" She'd heard Cernunnos called many things, but this title was a new one for her.
"He is the king of the Fae creatures and the beasts of the land. The forests and wilds are his domaine. Unperceivable by humans, he rules all that is unseen. Those, like myself, with magic have a connection to the realm of the Fea."
"I don't have magic."
"No, you don't. I can't understand why you look so similar to the queen. Perhaps it is simply coincidence. Or, it could be that someone has set in motion events that will not be known for many lifetimes."
Aylass sighed. She moved over to the window and stared down at the courtyard below. It was market day and the people below looked free and happy. "I just want to get out of here."
"I understand, child. But, until I can figure out what is going on, you must remain." His eyes went to the window for a moment and Taliesin's face took on a look of deep contemplation. As quickly as it had come, it was gone and the old man was smiling, softly at her again. "Perhaps I can take a message to your companions."
Shaking her head, she contemplated what she could say. Down in the streets, she thought she caught a glimpse of her love, but then realized she must have been mistaken, as the man put his arm around another woman's shoulders.
She didn't notice the way one man, dressed in a cape of feathers as black as a raven's wing, watched her from the street below...nor the raven perched just outside her window sill.
"Hey, Beautiful." Gwaine pressed against the blond woman's back and looped an arm over her shoulder. In his hand was a delicate, blue flower with five petals and a bright yellow center.
One night stuck in the cellar, after their escape from the cells, had been enough for him. The bickering about what to do next had gotten on his nerves and he needed air.
Taliesin had warned them to not venture far. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to pull of rescuing them again. But, Gwaine was too wrapped in his own worry, plus he was sick of Tristan's glares, that he just had to get out.
He'd seen the Forget-Me-Not on his way into town, recalling his sister's name for it, and felt that he just needed to pick it. He'd snuck in behind the merchant carts that had begun setting up their wares in the courtyard. The old man hadn't given any indication to where Aylass was being kept, so when Gwaine saw her wandering between the stalls, his heart had soared.
His first inclination had been to rush to her and pull her into his arms, but he reined himself in. It wouldn't do to draw attention to themselves while so much was still uncertain.
She stiffened uncharacteristically, as Gwaine used his free hand to brush away the golden locks and plant a gentle kiss against her cheek. Her unresponsive manner and the unfamiliar cough of embarrassment had him taking a second look, as worry filled his mind.
"Uh... thank you, kind sir," The woman said, while gingerly plucking the flower from his hand. "However, I do not think my husband would take too kindly to a stranger being so affectionate in public towards his queen."
Startled, Gwaine practically jumped back. His eyes narrowed and his head cocked to the side. "You're not..." He chuckled and gaped in amazement. The woman he'd given the flower to sounded and looked nearly identical to his own betrothed. Something was different, though, in the way she stood - regal and powerful.
"I'm sorry...My Lady, but you are the spitting image of..." His voice faltered, as he offered an uneasy bow. Like night and day, the woman was the mirror image of Aylass, but he could see now how different she was from his beloved.
Her laughter gave him chills with its familiarity. "'Tis a small matter, good sir. My own husband has been rather preoccupied of late and it is nice to know I am still worthy of flattery."
Gwaine joined her laughter with his own. He blew out through puffed cheeks and rubbed at his forehead. Tristan would have a field day if he found out that Gwaine had, even accidently, given his affections to another woman.
"Well, then. May I at least have the pleasure of knowing the name of woman I just kissed?"
The confusion on her face was priceless. "You honestly do not know me?" When he shook his head, she smiled. "I am Florie, daughter of Cernunnos and wife of High King Bruta of Albion." Her voice held a tone of amusement and disbelief.
The ground threatened to rush upon Gwaine, as he felt a wave of dizziness descend over him. Aylass and Bran had told them of how Cernunnos had mistaken Aylass for his daughter, now Gwaine could see why.
"Are you unwell?" Florie watched him suspiciously.
"Fine. Thank you, yes. I'm good. Sorry for...uh...I better go?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, but he couldn't stop staring at the woman who seemed to be at the center of his new epiphany. He knew they had somehow ended up in the past, but he had thought it was connected to Bran. Now, he wasn't so sure.
Florie nodded and turned away. She took a few steps before turning back. "I still have not been privileged to know your name."
"Gwaine, My Lady. Sir Gwaine."
"Sir Gwaine. Well..." She held up the flower. "Thank you for this."
"My pleasure." He bowed and waited until she had moved on before spinning around and rushing back to Taliesin's cottage.
The hallways were immaculately clean. It showed how diligently the servants had been working in preparation for their new queen, Pellas' wife, to arrive. Although, they probably would have been just as clean if Florie had been the only queen to arrive in the city, as she was the High King's wife.
Or, perhaps not, she thought as she pushed her way into a narrow passage hidden behind a statue and came quietly into her rooms.
The main door to her solar had two guards stationed beside it. She rolled her eyes at the unnecessary precaution. For years, she had wandered the fields and forests without escort. Her own magic having kept her safe, even when she assisted dying men on battlefields. She loved her husband, but there were times she felt he crossed the line when it came to her well being. Guards outside her quarters was a new one though, even for him.
Down the hall, she could hear the sounds of her baby being attended too by his nurse. Her breasts ached to feed him, but she wanted to freshen up and take a moment to herself after the odd happenstance in the marketplace.
They had camped the night before, just outside the walls of Corbenic and entered that morning to a glorious fanfare, where they were greeted by King Pellas and his new wife. Instead of touring the recently completed castle with her husband, she had chosen to slip away to the market streets. Despite being royalty, Florie always prefered being around the common people, with the open air and sounds of laughter as people went through their daily errands over the droning of architects and nobles about how great their works of stone were.
She had made her husband promise that when he built his own castle, he would make sure that there was sufficient land available for the everyone to gather in such a place.
Not wanting to deal with the possibility of the guards questioning her comings and goings, she slipped through a well hidden passage meant for escape if the city was ever under siege.
Her senses came alert, as she glanced inside. She was remiss to see that it looked like someone else had taken up residence in her rooms.
A carefully concealed dagger was plucked silently from its sheath under Florie's skirt. With slow, measured steps she began to survey the room. Near a window, a blond woman leaned against the sill. Her shoulders shook with a quiet sobbing that almost broke Florie's heart.
She could suddenly see why the man in the market had mistaken her for another, and now the guards outside of her door made sense.
Someone thought she was already here. It would have been brought to her attention if anyone thought the girl was trying to impersonate her. But, whatever the situation, it had been kept extremely quiet. Only one person she knew of in the Kingdom of Corbenic had enough power to command such a secret.
She had known Taliesin for years and knew he would never harm her in any way. Keeping the girl, who could have been her twin, locked in Florie's own rooms had to have a very interesting story behind it.
Skillfully replacing the dagger, Florie smoothed down her skirts before announcing her presence by clearing her throat.
The girl spun around in fright and froze.
The queen stepped slowly toward the girl and circled like a cat evaluating her prey, but she tried to keep her demeanour civil.
"What is going on? Who are you?" Aylass looked her doppelganger up and down, trying to make sense of the situation.
Florie smiled patiently. "I could ask the same of you. These are my quarters." She could see how frightened the other woman was and felt a surge of protectiveness course through her. Whether it was a byproduct of her maternal instincts after the birth of her son, or that this girl could almost be her sister, she didn't know.
"You're her. You're his daughter!"
A finely sculpted eyebrow rose in curiosity. "Whose daughter?"
"The bastard who kept me prisoner for the last year and nearly killed my father."
The queen's face fell. She wasn't shocked to find out that her father may have kept someone a prisoner. But, the idea that this girl would have been imprisoned around the time of her own hand fasting to Bruta...
The whole situation reeked of foul magic, and one wizard in particular.
