Chapter 13: Confession of Love
It was nice. Sitting there in Folken's arms, her head rested against his side where she could hear the steady beating of his heart. The world so calm for a moment. In his arms, a place she had longed to be. It was so nice and comforting and ... meaningless. Empty.
Eries glanced up at Folken. His eyes were locked forward on something distant, something beyond the room. She knew he thought on them. Not her. And she knew he held them even though his arms were around her.
He cared about them. Naria and Eryia. He still did. So Eries was what? A friend? Just a friend to him though with one word from his lips she would be his completely. Her life, her body, her heart and her soul she would all give if only he would ask. But he wouldn't. He did not love her.
She'd hold on anyway. Even if only as a friend. He needed her for that moment. He needed a friend. How many of those did he have now? Now that he'd betrayed his country. How many people were left who trusted and cared for him? How many did she have, for that matter?
She had Millerna. Who now had Dryden, so she didn't need Eries anymore; she never had. Millerna was strong. She cared though, in the way sisters did. She may even love, but they'd never told each other. But there was so much Millerna did not know. Horrible things that would certainly drive them apart. Make her hate Eries.
So Folken was all that was left. He knew. He knew a lot, but he had not condemned her for it. For the awful things she had done. For the awful thing she was. She needed him. His arms around her, holding her. And perhaps he needed her as well. Someone who saw him as a person, not a criminal or traitor. They looked to each other for forgiveness. And maybe for one moment she could pretend he looked to her for love.
Folken sighed heavily and took his arm back from her shoulders. As if he had read her thoughts. The moment of serenity was gone. "You should go."
She nodded and rose to her feet smoothing her skirt out. "It's good to see you are alive, Folken. Perhaps we can talk again sometime. I'm always willing to lend a friend my ear."
"You'd be best to put this all behind you. Forget about it. Forget about me."
"I won't forget you. Not ever."
"I don't love you." He sounded so angry.
"I know," Eries whispered. She left the room, left him without a tear in her eye. She'd known it before; he didn't have to say it. Her eyes went cold again. If you've never had it, you cannot loose it; therefore, there was no point in shedding tears about it.
+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+
Eries's feet carried her through the halls of the castle. Her eyes, glassy and cold, stared forward not seeing where her feet took her. Folken didn't love her; she'd known it before, but why did it hurt so much more to hear the words said? She had loved him, once, but he hadn't returned it. It was time to stop pretending. She still had a life to live. Even if it was fated to be a lonely one.
Eries stopped, finding her feet had carried her to the door of King Aston's bedchambers. What had possessed her to come here? Looking for more misery or perhaps just a situation she could control. Still, she hadn't seen the king for quite a while. She rapped softly with her knuckles and waited for someone to answer. Inside she could hear him coughing, a retching cough and knew the poisons she had fed him had torn his insides apart.
The door opened and she was greeted by a dark-haired handmaid with even darker circles under her eyes. She looked like she'd been awake for days.
"I apologize, my lady, but the king is not accepting visitors now. The doctors say he needs his rest."
"I don't care what any doctors say. I wish to see him."
"Who is it?" his voice came roughly from inside the dark room. "I said I don't want to see anyone now."
"It's your daughter Eries."
He was silent for a moment and the handmaid flashed Eries an "I told you so" look.
"Let her in."
Aston lay in bed his eyes following Eries intently as she approached. His skin was ashen gray, but his eyes were bright and focused. The sickness had taken much of his health, but it hadn't sapped all of his strength. Nor taken his mind.
"Leave us and get some sleep," he ordered to the handmaiden. And then lapsed into another coughing fit. Eries held a pan up to his chin to catch the bile that dribbled from his lips. She looked at him her stomach turning. He'd found a whole new way to be repulsive.
"I can see it your eyes. I'm rotting away," he rasped. "It hurts, Eries. It eats me from within."
She dutifully wiped his chin clean, but didn't have anything to say. He grabbed her wrist with his cold fingers in a grip tight enough to hurt.
"I don't want to die."
They stared at each other for a long time. Her blue ice eyes searching the sunken darkness of his own. He finally let her go.
"Sit down. It's been awhile since we've talked." She sat. And the uncomfortable silence continued. She didn't know why she'd come; she had nothing to say to him anymore.
"Don't you think it's funny that she called you my daughter?" Aston asked and produced a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a cough.
"It's what everyone thinks," Eries said.
"But it's not true. Not in anyway. You've never been my daughter. Daughter's shouldn't hate their fathers; they shouldn't try to kill them." The blood in Eries's veins went cold; he knew. Aston continued. "And Fathers. They're supposed to raise their daughters. Do things for them. I've never even told you a bedtime story. Aren't Fathers supposed to do that sort of thing? No wonder you hate me."
"Like you said: we aren't father and daughter," Eries replied.
"It's getting late; the sun is setting, but perhaps it's not too late for a story. Would you like to hear one?"
"I'm too old for bedtime stories."
"Even one about your father. Your real father?"
Eries eyed him suspiciously. He was up to something she knew that for sure. He wasn't acting like his usual self. Besides, she didn't know if she wanted to hear what he had to say about her father.
Aston spoke anyway. "He was a beastman. A present your mother, Theresa, had received when she was a little child. Long before I met her; long before I married her. He was her little 'pet', her childhood playmate and friend. From the first time I met them I knew it was more. I knew he rutted after her. When we married he came along as Theresa's personal escort, her protector." He laughed slightly. "He hated me so much. I was one he tried to protect her from."
He broke into another coughing fit before continuing. "As soon as I went to war he made his move. Made you. Oh, I could have killed him that day I returned, I was so angry. I stormed the entire castle looking for him, but Theresa had sent him away long ago. And she made me promise to leave you and him unharmed as long as she lived."
Eries frowned. "So the moment Mother passed away you massacred me?"
"Understand Eries. I wanted to make things right. I wanted you to be my daughter. But I couldn't truly forgive Theresa for what she'd done and I couldn't forgive you. Your father I had hunted down after she passed away. It took a few years to find him since he'd already been gone for over six years, but ... my hunters tracked him down in the forests outside Fanelia. He'd taken a wife, started a family and of course, denied the whole thing. But the truth was extracted. Strange, as quick as he was to abandoned you and Theresa, he fought quite valiantly trying to save his children's lives."
"You bastard!" Eries cried. "You murdered them all?"
"Those who commit treason, who defile the royal throne, must be punished."
"Why did you do such a thing?" Eries gripped the arms of her chair so tightly her knuckles turned white. She hated him more than ever before. He talked too casually about something so callus. She wanted to tear him apart with her claws and pull out the black thing called a heart. Get revenge for the murdered family she never knew. "Tell me, King Aston, what did his wife do to deserve death? What did his children do?"
"They did not deserve it," he said simply. "But I was angry and disgraced. I wanted revenge."
"Why are you even telling me all of this? Do you want me kill you now?"
"I want your forgiveness."
Eries was taken aback in surprise. "What?"
"I want your forgiveness, Eries. I want you to truly be my daughter. But I want to do it right this time. I remember that night, the night Millerna was born, when I took you to the doctors. You snuggled up against my shoulders and called me 'Daddy'. I think that's the only time you ever did."
"I was a stupid little fool. So stupid for ever trusting you."
"No, you were just innocent. And I crushed it from you. Took your innocence and your trust. I'm sorry, Eries. I'm sorry for the life you've had to lead. Please forgive me."
"No," she said coldly.
He nodded his head wisely. "I understand. You are still angry. But I want you to know..." he paused. "I love you."
No one in her entire life had said such a thing to her and Eries recoiled. Him? King Aston was the one who said it? "No."
"I love you, Eries," he said it again. Awful, awful words from his mouth.
"Shut up! I don't want to hear it!"
"But it's the truth."
"I don't want your love!"
"You don't have to want it, Eries. I'll love you anyway. And you are my daughter, even if not by blood."
"NO!" she screamed again and fled from the room.
+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+
"I hate you! I hate you!" Eries screamed again and again to her own empty room. She grabbed a chair and beat it against her desk until two of the legs broke off. "Bastard! Why is he the one that loves me? I don't want such a thing from him. I hate him!"
As she grasped the broken chair tighter ready to send it across the room she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. Her face contorted with her fury, she looked awful and ugly. No wonder Folken did not love her. Ugly stupid bitch.
"I hate you," she told herself quietly and her reflection said it back. The only one who loved her, cared about her now was Aston, a rotting evil man. "I hate you." She screamed it again and sent the chair smashing into the silver surface of the mirror. It broke and scattered across her desk.
"Hate you." Barely a whisper to her broken reflection. Her lip trembled. He she loved did not love her. He whom she hated gave her love she could not accept and did not want.
Eries wept.
It was nice. Sitting there in Folken's arms, her head rested against his side where she could hear the steady beating of his heart. The world so calm for a moment. In his arms, a place she had longed to be. It was so nice and comforting and ... meaningless. Empty.
Eries glanced up at Folken. His eyes were locked forward on something distant, something beyond the room. She knew he thought on them. Not her. And she knew he held them even though his arms were around her.
He cared about them. Naria and Eryia. He still did. So Eries was what? A friend? Just a friend to him though with one word from his lips she would be his completely. Her life, her body, her heart and her soul she would all give if only he would ask. But he wouldn't. He did not love her.
She'd hold on anyway. Even if only as a friend. He needed her for that moment. He needed a friend. How many of those did he have now? Now that he'd betrayed his country. How many people were left who trusted and cared for him? How many did she have, for that matter?
She had Millerna. Who now had Dryden, so she didn't need Eries anymore; she never had. Millerna was strong. She cared though, in the way sisters did. She may even love, but they'd never told each other. But there was so much Millerna did not know. Horrible things that would certainly drive them apart. Make her hate Eries.
So Folken was all that was left. He knew. He knew a lot, but he had not condemned her for it. For the awful things she had done. For the awful thing she was. She needed him. His arms around her, holding her. And perhaps he needed her as well. Someone who saw him as a person, not a criminal or traitor. They looked to each other for forgiveness. And maybe for one moment she could pretend he looked to her for love.
Folken sighed heavily and took his arm back from her shoulders. As if he had read her thoughts. The moment of serenity was gone. "You should go."
She nodded and rose to her feet smoothing her skirt out. "It's good to see you are alive, Folken. Perhaps we can talk again sometime. I'm always willing to lend a friend my ear."
"You'd be best to put this all behind you. Forget about it. Forget about me."
"I won't forget you. Not ever."
"I don't love you." He sounded so angry.
"I know," Eries whispered. She left the room, left him without a tear in her eye. She'd known it before; he didn't have to say it. Her eyes went cold again. If you've never had it, you cannot loose it; therefore, there was no point in shedding tears about it.
+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+
Eries's feet carried her through the halls of the castle. Her eyes, glassy and cold, stared forward not seeing where her feet took her. Folken didn't love her; she'd known it before, but why did it hurt so much more to hear the words said? She had loved him, once, but he hadn't returned it. It was time to stop pretending. She still had a life to live. Even if it was fated to be a lonely one.
Eries stopped, finding her feet had carried her to the door of King Aston's bedchambers. What had possessed her to come here? Looking for more misery or perhaps just a situation she could control. Still, she hadn't seen the king for quite a while. She rapped softly with her knuckles and waited for someone to answer. Inside she could hear him coughing, a retching cough and knew the poisons she had fed him had torn his insides apart.
The door opened and she was greeted by a dark-haired handmaid with even darker circles under her eyes. She looked like she'd been awake for days.
"I apologize, my lady, but the king is not accepting visitors now. The doctors say he needs his rest."
"I don't care what any doctors say. I wish to see him."
"Who is it?" his voice came roughly from inside the dark room. "I said I don't want to see anyone now."
"It's your daughter Eries."
He was silent for a moment and the handmaid flashed Eries an "I told you so" look.
"Let her in."
Aston lay in bed his eyes following Eries intently as she approached. His skin was ashen gray, but his eyes were bright and focused. The sickness had taken much of his health, but it hadn't sapped all of his strength. Nor taken his mind.
"Leave us and get some sleep," he ordered to the handmaiden. And then lapsed into another coughing fit. Eries held a pan up to his chin to catch the bile that dribbled from his lips. She looked at him her stomach turning. He'd found a whole new way to be repulsive.
"I can see it your eyes. I'm rotting away," he rasped. "It hurts, Eries. It eats me from within."
She dutifully wiped his chin clean, but didn't have anything to say. He grabbed her wrist with his cold fingers in a grip tight enough to hurt.
"I don't want to die."
They stared at each other for a long time. Her blue ice eyes searching the sunken darkness of his own. He finally let her go.
"Sit down. It's been awhile since we've talked." She sat. And the uncomfortable silence continued. She didn't know why she'd come; she had nothing to say to him anymore.
"Don't you think it's funny that she called you my daughter?" Aston asked and produced a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a cough.
"It's what everyone thinks," Eries said.
"But it's not true. Not in anyway. You've never been my daughter. Daughter's shouldn't hate their fathers; they shouldn't try to kill them." The blood in Eries's veins went cold; he knew. Aston continued. "And Fathers. They're supposed to raise their daughters. Do things for them. I've never even told you a bedtime story. Aren't Fathers supposed to do that sort of thing? No wonder you hate me."
"Like you said: we aren't father and daughter," Eries replied.
"It's getting late; the sun is setting, but perhaps it's not too late for a story. Would you like to hear one?"
"I'm too old for bedtime stories."
"Even one about your father. Your real father?"
Eries eyed him suspiciously. He was up to something she knew that for sure. He wasn't acting like his usual self. Besides, she didn't know if she wanted to hear what he had to say about her father.
Aston spoke anyway. "He was a beastman. A present your mother, Theresa, had received when she was a little child. Long before I met her; long before I married her. He was her little 'pet', her childhood playmate and friend. From the first time I met them I knew it was more. I knew he rutted after her. When we married he came along as Theresa's personal escort, her protector." He laughed slightly. "He hated me so much. I was one he tried to protect her from."
He broke into another coughing fit before continuing. "As soon as I went to war he made his move. Made you. Oh, I could have killed him that day I returned, I was so angry. I stormed the entire castle looking for him, but Theresa had sent him away long ago. And she made me promise to leave you and him unharmed as long as she lived."
Eries frowned. "So the moment Mother passed away you massacred me?"
"Understand Eries. I wanted to make things right. I wanted you to be my daughter. But I couldn't truly forgive Theresa for what she'd done and I couldn't forgive you. Your father I had hunted down after she passed away. It took a few years to find him since he'd already been gone for over six years, but ... my hunters tracked him down in the forests outside Fanelia. He'd taken a wife, started a family and of course, denied the whole thing. But the truth was extracted. Strange, as quick as he was to abandoned you and Theresa, he fought quite valiantly trying to save his children's lives."
"You bastard!" Eries cried. "You murdered them all?"
"Those who commit treason, who defile the royal throne, must be punished."
"Why did you do such a thing?" Eries gripped the arms of her chair so tightly her knuckles turned white. She hated him more than ever before. He talked too casually about something so callus. She wanted to tear him apart with her claws and pull out the black thing called a heart. Get revenge for the murdered family she never knew. "Tell me, King Aston, what did his wife do to deserve death? What did his children do?"
"They did not deserve it," he said simply. "But I was angry and disgraced. I wanted revenge."
"Why are you even telling me all of this? Do you want me kill you now?"
"I want your forgiveness."
Eries was taken aback in surprise. "What?"
"I want your forgiveness, Eries. I want you to truly be my daughter. But I want to do it right this time. I remember that night, the night Millerna was born, when I took you to the doctors. You snuggled up against my shoulders and called me 'Daddy'. I think that's the only time you ever did."
"I was a stupid little fool. So stupid for ever trusting you."
"No, you were just innocent. And I crushed it from you. Took your innocence and your trust. I'm sorry, Eries. I'm sorry for the life you've had to lead. Please forgive me."
"No," she said coldly.
He nodded his head wisely. "I understand. You are still angry. But I want you to know..." he paused. "I love you."
No one in her entire life had said such a thing to her and Eries recoiled. Him? King Aston was the one who said it? "No."
"I love you, Eries," he said it again. Awful, awful words from his mouth.
"Shut up! I don't want to hear it!"
"But it's the truth."
"I don't want your love!"
"You don't have to want it, Eries. I'll love you anyway. And you are my daughter, even if not by blood."
"NO!" she screamed again and fled from the room.
+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+
"I hate you! I hate you!" Eries screamed again and again to her own empty room. She grabbed a chair and beat it against her desk until two of the legs broke off. "Bastard! Why is he the one that loves me? I don't want such a thing from him. I hate him!"
As she grasped the broken chair tighter ready to send it across the room she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. Her face contorted with her fury, she looked awful and ugly. No wonder Folken did not love her. Ugly stupid bitch.
"I hate you," she told herself quietly and her reflection said it back. The only one who loved her, cared about her now was Aston, a rotting evil man. "I hate you." She screamed it again and sent the chair smashing into the silver surface of the mirror. It broke and scattered across her desk.
"Hate you." Barely a whisper to her broken reflection. Her lip trembled. He she loved did not love her. He whom she hated gave her love she could not accept and did not want.
Eries wept.
