Author's notes: The usual. Names contest still open - a hint, you could go
to one site and get it over with in about half an hour if you have all the
names. That said, on with it!
Calix, still a few miles outside Bevelle with Ailani's tireless stallion, heard the bells ringing, a sound that cut him to his heart. Slowing the almost frantic pace of the great gray steed, he watched the spires of the temple in the center of the great city of Spira.
Calix had made all haste out of Bevelle the day before, not wishing to hear the talk of the wedding. Using his elfin magic on the bird-creature (Known as a chocobo to the Spirans) he had flown along the land, reaching Besaid by moonrise. The stallion had been prancing outside his stall, fully tacked and ready to go. Settling the bird and mounting the horse, Calix had ridden through the night, the stallion even faster than the magically enhanced chocobo had been, not even breaking a sweat as they reached the large, glowing river known as the Moonflow. Much to Calix's astonishment, the stallion had galloped across the water as if it were solid land. Calix had seen many special animals, many more special horses, but Nenya was certainly something different. Wizard-bred, maybe, or bred by the Sky Elves in their great cities in the clouds. Certainly it fit; Nenya, in the High Elves' theology, was the Guardian of Air, ridden by the Queen of Water and Air, Kaloni.
The name for a priestess, in the parlance of the humans on the continent Anash, was Morgan. Woman from the sea, it meant - Ailani was a priestess, a morgan, and she rode the Steed of the Sky, Nenya. Air and water. The names fit.
Urging Nenya on again, he and the horse were but a blur when they streaked under the gates of Bevelle. Slowing only barely for the city, Calix finally stopped the only lightly sweating stallion and dismounted, made sure he was in good hands with the stable boys, then left, more than a little heartsick, for home.
On the temple above, out on the walks connecting the high spires of the Palace of St. Bevelle, Yuna shivered in memory. She was on the highest alcove-balcony on the highest spire, next to the priest of the New Order of Yevon. Having been a Yevonite all her life, Yuna found the precepts hard to release, even after the deception of the original Yevon leaders. Spira had been rebuilt on the back of the New Order, and Yuna intended to make sure that her line continued in the faith.
Aubrey, in splendid gray robes covered with intricate embroidery, emerged from the tower room where he had made his preparations. His platinum- blonde hair flashed in the sunlight, and he smiled assuredly.
Ailani emerged from the opposing tower, surrounded by six women in cream- colored dresses that served to accent the pure white of Ailani's gown. Her expression, if one could call it that, was of stoicism; but the women around her could see the carefully veiled rage.
The two parties met at the junction onto the main walkway; suspended hundreds of feet above the city, some of those in attendance looked more than a little queasy. Three groomsmen and three bridesmaids peeled off to stand at the bottom of the flight of steps that was the final march to the altar. Ailani glared up at her mother, standing up there with them, and beside her Aubrey couldn't help but look at her, though he had done nothing else after she had been sent back inside while Lady Yuna made the necessary preparations. Today, her hair flowed free again, appearing longer than ever. Little tightly twisted bits kept it free of her face, and at the crown of her head the twists were tied off, the extra hair bone-straight and glinting silver-blue in the midsummer sunlight. Her Guado heritage displayed in the varicose veins tracing lines down to her cheeks, she was every humanoid race on Spira in one.
Reaching the top balcony, the attendants again filed off to the sides, and in front of the priest, Aubrey and Ailani faced each other. Hypnotic blue met cold, calculating blue-green, and then both looked at the priest, who began the liturgy.
The sun's edge was barely a hair's breadth from the tip of the spire, shining down on the wedding party. Ailani's eyes watched in growing dread as the sun's golden edge touched the tip. At that moment, the priest finished the homily on the sanctity of marriage under Yevon, and once again Aubrey's lips fastened on hers. Ailani shuddered and clenched her fists, forcing her mental shields up to stem the rush of lust that her empathic mind picked up from Aubrey.
The young Lord pressed Ailani's lithe body against him, as much needing the feel of this insolent beauty as that he needed to exert the control that Yuna had asked him to have over Ailani. Aubrey remembered that meeting well.
*Two months ago.*
Lord Aubrey turned, surprised to see High Summoner Yuna in his parlor. "Yes, High Summoner Yuna?"
The woman who had once been a hero of a continent was now stooped not with age, but with despair. Emotional wounds had brought the once-vibrant girl to early seniority, and she did not often travel far from Besaid, where she spent the days of her pious life in study.
Yuna came alongside him. "Lord Aubrey Braedon. I hope you are well?"
"I am, Lady Yuna. Though I hardly think you came all the way to Bevelle from Besaid to simply ask my well-being."
She chuckled. "You are perceptive. I do wish something more.you know of my daughter, Ailani de Braska Guado, do you not?"
"Yes. I was told she left Besaid after being taken from the Isle of Witches." "She did. I have asked her return, and she has replied that she will."
Aubrey paused. "Lady Yuna, forgive my rudeness, but please get to the point."
Yuna smiled. "You know of my daughter's.personality?"
"Yes." Indeed, Ailani's insolent nature was known throughout Spira. No one knew where the child had gotten it, her parents being who they were.
"Then you will not have any problem marrying her?"
"Excuse.me?"
"Yes." Yuna's face turned bleak. "She is nearing her twenty-fourth year now. Older by at least six years than many young women who are married and have children. I need someone to bring her under control, Lord Aubrey. I think that you are the one to do that."
Now Aubrey intended to exert this power and put Ailani in a better frame of mind. After all, her history being what it was, surely it was simply some quirk of nature that could quickly be undone. And then Ailani would be a polite, virtuous, obedient wife.
Again, after what seemed eons to him, Aubrey released her lips and smiled down at her. Her eyes were still icy, but now below the ice the first sparks of black hatred had been lit.
All who saw Ailani's eyes afterwards went to their homes that night and prayed to whatever deity they believed in, that as long as Aubrey drew breath those sparks would not melt a hole in the ice.
Calix, still a few miles outside Bevelle with Ailani's tireless stallion, heard the bells ringing, a sound that cut him to his heart. Slowing the almost frantic pace of the great gray steed, he watched the spires of the temple in the center of the great city of Spira.
Calix had made all haste out of Bevelle the day before, not wishing to hear the talk of the wedding. Using his elfin magic on the bird-creature (Known as a chocobo to the Spirans) he had flown along the land, reaching Besaid by moonrise. The stallion had been prancing outside his stall, fully tacked and ready to go. Settling the bird and mounting the horse, Calix had ridden through the night, the stallion even faster than the magically enhanced chocobo had been, not even breaking a sweat as they reached the large, glowing river known as the Moonflow. Much to Calix's astonishment, the stallion had galloped across the water as if it were solid land. Calix had seen many special animals, many more special horses, but Nenya was certainly something different. Wizard-bred, maybe, or bred by the Sky Elves in their great cities in the clouds. Certainly it fit; Nenya, in the High Elves' theology, was the Guardian of Air, ridden by the Queen of Water and Air, Kaloni.
The name for a priestess, in the parlance of the humans on the continent Anash, was Morgan. Woman from the sea, it meant - Ailani was a priestess, a morgan, and she rode the Steed of the Sky, Nenya. Air and water. The names fit.
Urging Nenya on again, he and the horse were but a blur when they streaked under the gates of Bevelle. Slowing only barely for the city, Calix finally stopped the only lightly sweating stallion and dismounted, made sure he was in good hands with the stable boys, then left, more than a little heartsick, for home.
On the temple above, out on the walks connecting the high spires of the Palace of St. Bevelle, Yuna shivered in memory. She was on the highest alcove-balcony on the highest spire, next to the priest of the New Order of Yevon. Having been a Yevonite all her life, Yuna found the precepts hard to release, even after the deception of the original Yevon leaders. Spira had been rebuilt on the back of the New Order, and Yuna intended to make sure that her line continued in the faith.
Aubrey, in splendid gray robes covered with intricate embroidery, emerged from the tower room where he had made his preparations. His platinum- blonde hair flashed in the sunlight, and he smiled assuredly.
Ailani emerged from the opposing tower, surrounded by six women in cream- colored dresses that served to accent the pure white of Ailani's gown. Her expression, if one could call it that, was of stoicism; but the women around her could see the carefully veiled rage.
The two parties met at the junction onto the main walkway; suspended hundreds of feet above the city, some of those in attendance looked more than a little queasy. Three groomsmen and three bridesmaids peeled off to stand at the bottom of the flight of steps that was the final march to the altar. Ailani glared up at her mother, standing up there with them, and beside her Aubrey couldn't help but look at her, though he had done nothing else after she had been sent back inside while Lady Yuna made the necessary preparations. Today, her hair flowed free again, appearing longer than ever. Little tightly twisted bits kept it free of her face, and at the crown of her head the twists were tied off, the extra hair bone-straight and glinting silver-blue in the midsummer sunlight. Her Guado heritage displayed in the varicose veins tracing lines down to her cheeks, she was every humanoid race on Spira in one.
Reaching the top balcony, the attendants again filed off to the sides, and in front of the priest, Aubrey and Ailani faced each other. Hypnotic blue met cold, calculating blue-green, and then both looked at the priest, who began the liturgy.
The sun's edge was barely a hair's breadth from the tip of the spire, shining down on the wedding party. Ailani's eyes watched in growing dread as the sun's golden edge touched the tip. At that moment, the priest finished the homily on the sanctity of marriage under Yevon, and once again Aubrey's lips fastened on hers. Ailani shuddered and clenched her fists, forcing her mental shields up to stem the rush of lust that her empathic mind picked up from Aubrey.
The young Lord pressed Ailani's lithe body against him, as much needing the feel of this insolent beauty as that he needed to exert the control that Yuna had asked him to have over Ailani. Aubrey remembered that meeting well.
*Two months ago.*
Lord Aubrey turned, surprised to see High Summoner Yuna in his parlor. "Yes, High Summoner Yuna?"
The woman who had once been a hero of a continent was now stooped not with age, but with despair. Emotional wounds had brought the once-vibrant girl to early seniority, and she did not often travel far from Besaid, where she spent the days of her pious life in study.
Yuna came alongside him. "Lord Aubrey Braedon. I hope you are well?"
"I am, Lady Yuna. Though I hardly think you came all the way to Bevelle from Besaid to simply ask my well-being."
She chuckled. "You are perceptive. I do wish something more.you know of my daughter, Ailani de Braska Guado, do you not?"
"Yes. I was told she left Besaid after being taken from the Isle of Witches." "She did. I have asked her return, and she has replied that she will."
Aubrey paused. "Lady Yuna, forgive my rudeness, but please get to the point."
Yuna smiled. "You know of my daughter's.personality?"
"Yes." Indeed, Ailani's insolent nature was known throughout Spira. No one knew where the child had gotten it, her parents being who they were.
"Then you will not have any problem marrying her?"
"Excuse.me?"
"Yes." Yuna's face turned bleak. "She is nearing her twenty-fourth year now. Older by at least six years than many young women who are married and have children. I need someone to bring her under control, Lord Aubrey. I think that you are the one to do that."
Now Aubrey intended to exert this power and put Ailani in a better frame of mind. After all, her history being what it was, surely it was simply some quirk of nature that could quickly be undone. And then Ailani would be a polite, virtuous, obedient wife.
Again, after what seemed eons to him, Aubrey released her lips and smiled down at her. Her eyes were still icy, but now below the ice the first sparks of black hatred had been lit.
All who saw Ailani's eyes afterwards went to their homes that night and prayed to whatever deity they believed in, that as long as Aubrey drew breath those sparks would not melt a hole in the ice.