Chapter 11/Week Seventeen/Ten Months Left
"Ah! Freedom!" Bog sighs loudly, leaning back on Chipper's saddle as the giant squirrel ambles happily through the foliage.
Marianne laughs as she barrel-rolls between the overhead branches before gliding beside the earthbound pair. It truly was a sentiment she wholeheartedly agreed with. Especially after the very busy week they had.
She had hoped that Dawn would agree with Prince Sunny as a future husband, and not just because of her worry over Roland, but even she hadn't expected them to get along so well. King Hasani had seemed surprised over his son's endearing reaction when the tiny crown princess made her appearance beside her cloaked figure. Not that she wasn't surprised herself when her sister had responded with the same cheer to the wide smile accompanying the charming greeting.
There had been a moment of worry when Dawn had flown too close to the other young royal and ran into the invisible barrier keeping the castle inhabitants within the castle grounds. But Prince Sunny hadn't shown the same fear as the others had about the cursed grounds and quickly crossed onto the castle grounds to catch the falling princess. Then they both promptly forgot about their monarchs and chatted amiably for the rest of the day until King Hasani almost literally dragged his eighteen-year-old son out of the tent near sundown. Pouting young royals pleaded for more time together, managing to convince King Hasani to extend his visit for a few more days, and it came as a surprise to no one when the official betrothal contract was signed two days ago.
However, as happy as Marianne is about saving her sister from a fate worse than death, being stuck at the castle for the entirety of King Hasani's visit had driven her near crazy with how she was now used to escaping into the Dark Forest thrice a week. Even worse was how she couldn't speak freely to Bog, all her words to him needing to be carefully spoken. They had no moment to themselves other than a few short minutes, but she couldn't even drop her stifling mask of indifference for fear of nearby spies.
But now they are finally free for at least a few hours, both having taken the first chance to flee to the forest. True, Bog could've done so yesterday after King Hasani's entourage left in the early morning and she left to take court at the Judgment Hall, but the thoughtful man had decided to help Boris sift through the paperwork needing to be done, which left all of them with a much-needed day-off today.
"So, where to today?" Bog questions. "The castle, the river, the gorge, or just wandering around."
"Not your mother's?" Marianne asks curiously.
"No. Not today. Today is just you and me," Bog states firmly before amending quickly with wide eyes. "I mean...that isn't..."
"Just you and me," Marianne repeats softly, chuckling as Imp and Chipper chitter. "With Imp and Chipper, of course. I wonder what's going to happen to them when the curse is lifted. All the animals within the castle got affected by Plum's spell just as much as the humans and they all seem to be more than just mere animals now, almost like they're no different than one of the cursed humans."
"I had mentioned about the cursed animals to Thang and Stuff the last time I visited. Even they're not sure what will happen once the curse is lifted but they are sure the animals will probably keep the enlightened mind they gained as fae creatures," Bog mentions. "Although, I pity the kitchen cat when she'll no longer be able to go through walls at her leisure. She won't be able to steal food and get away with it anymore."
Laughter echoes through the forest once more and the trees shiver with joy from it. Vines sway gently to an unfelt breeze, young ferns unfurl vibrantly as the visitors pass, and night-blooming flowers open their petals despite the bright sun blinking through the thick foliage overhead. The forest rejoices at the return of its children. It's been too long since their last visit. Much too long.
Branches and leaves shift to entice the giant squirrel to follow a different path. A pleasing scent wafts upon the air, guiding, encouraging, as it leads the way.
"Where...where are we?" Marianne questions softly, looking around at the thick branches of thorns blocking the path in front of them.
"I don't know. We're still in the Dark Forest, though," Bog murmurs. "Right?"
"Yes, we're still in the forest, but it's strange, I didn't think we've traveled that far from the castle, and yet I know I haven't seen this area before," Marianne answers.
"Care to explore?" Bog asks, dismounting the nervous Chipper.
"We're in a goblin's forest and you want to explore a dark dense thicket of thorns that has the potential of trapping us?" Marianne clarifies with a raised eyebrow.
"Think of it as an adventure," Bog chuckles.
"My sense of adventure died the day I was supposed to get married," Marianne mutters before smirking and letting Imp jump from her shoulder to Chipper's. "If we do get trapped, at least Imp and Chipper will be able to get Thang or Stuff to get us out. But I will be reminding you of this for the next ten months any time you mention having an adventure."
"And I will remind you for the next ten months when nothing happens," Bog teases, bowing to her with his hand held out.
Marianne stares at the offered hand for a moment before hesitantly placing her scaled clawed hand in his grasp. She gives no resistance when Bog keeps holding her hand as he leads the way into the impressive thicket.
Despite its formidable appearance, the thorns are not overly painful when they're brushed against, an inevitable happenstance as they maneuver over, under, and around the twined branches. The most trouble they cause is repeatedly catching Bog's tunic and breeches and forcing the man to wrestle his clothing out of the thorn's clinging grip without damaging the fabric. The worst trouble they cause is because of Marianne's own carelessness.
Too busy laughing at Bog's recent trouble, Marianne doesn't notice when her wings twitch with her mirth. When she moves to follow him, she's forced back because of a harsh tug on her large wings, crying out softly when she loses her grip on Bog's hand. Turning to survey the damage causes her to be stuck further when she accidentally stands to her full height and the largest pair of horns get wrapped in overhead vines curling through the thicket. Trying to move her head gets the vines to tangle further and she growls in frustration when the arm she moves to free her horns gets trapped between two thorny branches above and behind her. Her second arm fares worse when it manages to move away one vine trapping her only for it to get tangled itself in the same vine.
If it couldn't be possible, she would swear the plants had a mind of their own.
"How did you get trapped that badly?" Bog questions in bewildered shock.
"I don't know," Marianne growls.
"Here let me...," Bog starts as he reaches up.
"Wait!" Marianne calls in panic. "My wings first. I don't know how resilient they are, and I don't want to risk damaging them."
She watches Bog nod from the corner of her eye before he disappears to move behind her. Despite knowing what he's about to do, Marianne is unprepared for the cascade of sensations when his hands touch her wings. The only thing she can liken it to is when she had watched a fierce storm when she was younger, where it had not rained but only flashed multiple streams of lightning across the sky and the dry air around her had felt alive. She could feel the same sensation again as it rushes through her body, feeling as if lightning coursed through her very veins with every prodding touch upon her wings. It's only through sheer effort that she manages not to cry out when Bog rubs a finger over the freed wings to make sure the thorns did not tear a hole.
Marianne's breath comes out in soft pants as the sensations begin to fade and she opens her eyes when he informs her what he's going to do as he approaches her from behind.
Wait. When did she close her eyes?!
The unspoken question is immediately forgotten when Bog's hands brush against her large horns once more as he works to free them from their entrapment and lightning courses through her again. Her lower lip becomes trapped between her sharp teeth in an effort not to make a sound at the delightful torture she was being inflicted with. So lost in the feelings, she jolts sharply when he stumbles into her back, barely managing to respond to the hasty apology because of the heat joining the lightning in its dance through her entire being, her cheeks feeling as flushed as when she rode across the fields during a hot summer day.
With her horns free, Marianne turns her head to watch as Bog works to free her hands. His slightly shorter height makes it challenging and this time she's prepared when he stumbles into her once more. Being prepared does not stop the rush of heat.
"Sorry! I just...I'm not used to standing on the tips of my toes, at least not since I was much younger, and I'm out of practice," Bog explains.
"It's fine, Bog," Marianne assures. "Just get the one free and I should be able to get the other."
He gives a nod, abandoning trying to force the vines to relinquish their captive, and sets to ease her other arm out between the thorns. The plating covering her makes the job tricky when the edges catch onto the branches, but Bog soon succeeds in pulling her free. She quickly frees her other arm from the vines and the rest of the journey through the entangled maze is made without any more incidents.
"I think it'd be wiser to fly us back," Marianne mentions, gesturing to the top of the thorny wall.
"After we see where that leads us," Bog comments, gesturing to the cave entrance nearly covered in greenery.
"How are you so sure we're not walking into a fae's den? Stuff did say there is other fae in the kingdom that are not subjects of the goblin king," Marianne remarks.
"There's no one in the forest who shouldn't be here. Thang and Stuff make sure to remind the other fae that His Majesty will take offense to an intrusion, and no one wants to make the goblin king angry," Bog assures.
The cavern is far less hazardous than the journey through the thorns. Instead of being completely dark within the depths, strange plants glow along the walls to give illumination to their steps, some dangling from the ceiling in a mimic of stars in the night sky. Dirt and smooth stone guide the way around, over, up, and through the long passageway.
After what feels like hours of walking, sunlight greets them as they exit the cavern, and Marianne gasps in awe at the field before them. A blanket of deep dark purple flowers spread across the greenery, reaching to a lone tree at the edge of the cliff they're upon.
"These are beautiful!" Marianne sighs happily.
"Wait! Don't! They're enchanted!" Bog warns, grabbing her reaching hand to stop her from plucking a flower.
"Enchanted? Are you sure?" Marianne questions, looking at the purple petals with longing.
"Very sure," Bog answers, looking uneasily at the greenery-covered wall of stone behind them and the cliff's edge surrounding the field in front of them. "I can feel the magic on them. There's magic surrounding this whole area, actually. I don't think we're supposed to be here. I don't think anyone is supposed to be here. We should go. Now."
"What happened to your sense of adventure?" Marianne teases.
"No one wants to make the goblin king angry," Bog repeats. "This must be his garden. The magic is too powerful to be anyone else's."
"It's a lovely garden. Come on, let's at least go to the top of the tree and see where we are in the Dark Forest," Marianne suggests.
"But the flowers. I don't know what will happen if they're damaged, but I don't think it'll be good and I'm already dealing with the consequences caused by one enchanted flower," Bog mutters, his smirk showing no animosity.
Marianne chuckles softly at the man beside her before giving a smirk of her own. A sharp tug on her captive hand causes Bog to stumble and she quickly gathers the slightly shorter man to her side. It's a bit more difficult taking to the air with him this time since she's flying up instead of gliding, but she manages without straining herself. She relishes in his gasp this time and her grip around his slim waist is intentional as she glides them over the fragrant carpet. The pleasant scent bathes them in its perfume as they soar across it.
"Oh, look! There's the goblin castle!" Marianne calls, pointing to the distant tree once they land at the lone tree's base.
"And no way to get there except by returning through the cavern or by flying," Bog points out, motioning to the steep drop-off they're close to.
"Don't worry. I'll catch you if you fall," Marianne assures.
"I'm not worried," Bog defends softly. "Just mentioning everything that says this place is not supposed to be visited."
"And yet, we managed to find our way here," Marianne counters.
"I kept getting caught in the thicket and you got thoroughly trapped," Bog reminds.
"That will not get breathed a word about to anyone," Marianne growls.
"Not even to Chipper and Imp," Bog chuckles, leaning his head toward her.
The familiar gesture brings a smile to her face and Marianne quickly leans down enough to gently push against the top of his forehead with her own. She relishes in the contact, smiling wider at Bog's returning smile.
Who could have thought that such a harmless gesture could fill her with such joy? The first time they had performed it had flooded her with a warmth she thought was truly lost that fateful day Sugar Plum had cursed her and she nearly cried at the feeling. Just a simple touch. An innocent token that goblins use to express a camaraderie between equals.
But it felt so much more.
Just that simple touch between her and Bog had destroyed the resolve she had made just three weeks prior during their first excursion into the Dark Forest to maintain an emotional distance from him. No amount of reasonings to protect this noble man could stop her heart from nurturing feelings for him. Even the knowledge of her pending fate couldn't restrain her desire, wanting only to spend with him as much time as she has left. With every gesture repeated, her desire only strengthens, and it takes nearly all the strength of her willpower not to act on the visions she dreams.
If only her fate had been different.
"Your Majesty?" Bog questions, raising his fingers to gently wipe away an escaped tear.
"It's Marianne within the forest, Bog," Marianne reminds, using one hand to trap his hand against her cheek.
"Marianne," Bog repeats softly.
She can't stop her eyes from closing at the sound of him calling her name with reverence. It had taken a bit of convincing to get Bog to call her that when she suggested it six weeks ago, but she had finally heard the soft-spoken word four weeks ago. It was nigh torture not to hear it this past week.
"What's wrong?" Bog asks.
"Only feeling a bit of pity for myself," Marianne answers.
"Stuff will keep her word and the goblin you made the bargain with will break Plum's curse," Bog reassures, raising his free hand to lay against her other cheek.
"It's not that simple, Bog," Marianne sighs, pulling away from his touch to look up at the tree. "Even should this curse be removed, I'm still doomed to die."
"I heard the terms of the bargain, remember, and as long as you don't announce love to another, you won't forfeit your life," Bog murmurs.
"My life was forfeit the day my mother died and this appeared on my finger," Marianne informs, raising her left hand to gesture to the wooden ring. "There's a curse on the royal family, a curse that causes the ruling monarch to die shortly after their thirty-third birthday. No one knows why. The only thing anyone knows is that this ring cannot be removed from the wearer's finger once it appears until the time of their death when it will disappear only to reappear on the finger of the next in line. It's why I had no fear of agreeing to the goblin's terms."
"So, the rumors are true? I thought it was only foolish speculation," Bog mutters under his breath.
"What rumors?" Marianne questions.
Marianne raises her eyebrow in silent demand when Bog cringes and tries to change the subject, clearly having forgotten again that she can hear nearly as well as him. It takes all her restraint not to laugh at his frustration at his own forthright. His rough defeated sigh finally brings a chuckle from her, and he smiles as he shakes his head.
"There's been some who've talked, mostly from Roland's family, that the reason the past monarchs made harsh laws concerning those dealing with any fae was because they were afraid that one of their subjects would make a deal to gain the throne, a happenstance believed to have been how your family rose to power. It hadn't escaped anyone's notice how each monarch died at about the same age and that seemed to be proof to those who believed such," Bog explains.
"After hearing the truth about Prince Griswald, I've been wondering if the royal curse was connected to his ousting. It does seem a little too coincidental, after all. But no amount of scouring the archives revealed anything about how Lucas rose from his lowly position to become regent. The only thing I could find was that the royal court was in absolute chaos as everyone fought each other over power, and no one was doing anything about the orphaned prince or the ravaged kingdom," Marianne mentions.
"Mom never said anything about it herself, so I'm guessing that not even Prince Griswald knew how it happened. He was probably too grateful for Lucas to even care," Bog comments. "You said the ring is connected?"
"Yes. It's Lucas' ring. The very moment he died, it appeared on Eric's finger, and it was commonly thought it had some special power," Marianne answers.
Gasping slightly when Bog's blue eyes seem to grow brighter, Marianne doesn't resist when he grabs her left hand's fingers and brings her hand in front of him. The thought of it being a trick of the light is dismissed when his eyes continue to brighten until they're as bright as the full moon's light while he turns her hand to gaze at the palm. As quickly as it appeared, the glow disappears, and Bog blinks a few times before looking back at her face.
"I can't be certain, but I think it's actually a goblin's ring. It's completely infused with goblin magic," Bog explains.
"There's more you're not telling me. What are you hesitating on?" Marianne asks.
"It's...the magic, it's...," Bog starts before gesturing around the cliff they're upon. "The magic is almost the same as what's here. This...if this is a goblin's ring, like I think it is, then...I think it's the goblin king's ring."