Author's Note: We live!!! Surprised, ne? Well, it seems out collective muses packed up and went on vacation without telling us but we're back with what we hope are the last two chapters of our story. With the long wait between updates, I'm not sure if anyone is still reading this but right now I think our goal is to simply finish this fic for OUR peace of mind. So we will continue on until the end! *salutes* Without further ado, the next installment.
Chapter Fifteen
(First Part by Iris Anthe)
(Second Part by Goldberry)
Hilde's gift of sleep was more than just a cessation of
wakefulness. With it came the healing of sweet and
loving dreams. As Dorothy slept, she relived all the
beautiful hours of her earliest days in which Lucrezia
held her and sang to her and showed her the wonders of
the natural world around her. She was bathed in the
light of an unending afternoon, heavy with fragrant
breezes and drowsy stories told in a foreign tongue that
seemed to translate directly into pictures in her mind.
She saw eternal spring and a beautiful clearing with two
thrones made of a silvery metal which looked as though
they had grown into the interwoven shapes they held
rather than having ever been made.
She saw a man, or what seemed to be a man but could not
possibly be. He was tall and fair and the regal arch of
his neck as he lifted a crown set with an opal so vibrant
and large that it seemed sparked with life itself. And
she knew that somehow this man was King of all the Fae,
and in truth no man at all. And he searched, endlessly
wearing the opal crown, for someone he loved and could
not find, until finally she saw him take off the crown
and it disappeared into the wind between his shining
hands. What replaced it was a silver mask, fashioned as
the sleek head of a raptor. Somehow she felt the
terrible coldness of winter as he placed the mask upon
his head and forever shut out the spring that continued
around him.
These were the songs that Dorothy had listened to as no
more than a babe, swaying in the willowy arms of her
lifelong slave, Lucrezia. These were the dreams she
lived, one after another, endless images, the continuous
music of Lucrezia's liquid voice. These were the truths
she had forbidden herself from understanding since the
day her father died.
***
The Lord of the Fourth House of Fae, kept his eyes
averted during the uncharacteristically physical reunion
of his high king and queen. Having never found a true
mate in all his eternal years, Quatre found himself still
too raw from his recent ordeal to bear witness to such
ardor, particularly since he found it difficult to filter
the emotions flicking out from the long parted couple in
fingers of searing fire. Truly these two were amongst
the most powerful of his kind. A lesser fae would have
been prostrate upon the floor, and not simply out of respect.
The human woman, Dorothy, the huntress who had been a
source of such grief gave a soft sigh from where she lay
sleeping on the ground. That small sound suddenly caused
a palpable change; menace filled the room. Quatre looked
up to see his lord king unsheathe his great lightning sword and point
it at the helpless human.
With speed to match thought, Queen Lucrezia moved between
the human and the blade, a look of grief upon her face.
With the eloquence of one forced to speak only with her
eyes for over fifteen years, Lucrezia pleaded to her king
to spare the young woman's life.
"Lucrezia, how could you?" came Zech's response. Quatre
could see that the bloody oath that his lord had made
when he donned the mask of the warrior king compelled him
to kill this human for all the wrong done to Queen
Lucrezia and his people. The queen, however, could not
find words, nor it seemed could she allow her husband and
lord to mete justice upon her tormentor.
"You have always been too soft with humans. Look at what
it has brought upon us all. This girl is
an abomination, and I will kill her. I would eradicate
humanity itself if I could, but they breed so profusely."
The enchanted animals ruffled themselves,
obviously readying for a fight to protect the Rose
Maidens. Quatre knew this was going wrong, but he simply
could not figure a way to make either his king or his
queen budge. They were each in their own way two of the
most stubborn creatures in creation.
The queen's voice was nothing more than a whisper that
each occupant of the little room strained to hear as it
blended so intimately with the muffled sounds of winter's
movement on the other side of the windows. "Zechs.
Husband. My King … you are wrong. The human race is no
more and no less evil than we. Have you forgotten
already the war in which you first donned the warrior's
mask? Was it not our own kind, kin of our fathers who
betrayed us so long ago? Was it not those wars that
diminished our numbers so? The humans are blameless for
our small nation, for once we filled this land as the
stars fill the backbone of night. Long before the first
human child cried out for its mother's skin, we had
already brought evil into the world. This human child
has done wrong upon me, but she was taught to do so by
her father. There was a time before the iron was placed
upon me that she loved me."
The queen paused. Quatre shivered in memory of the iron
around his throat, and wondered whether his queen could
still be sane after enduring that torture for so long.
She held her eyes shut and he thought perhaps that she
might stay inanimate and mute for eternity in a pose of
supplication. But her voice sounded, rasping, once
again.
"And I loved her, Milliardo. If I had been stronger,
perhaps I could have raised her better even under the
sway of her wretched father. I loved her as I would have
loved our child had it survived. Please do not kill the
only vessel my love has had in all these dark years."
There was a moment of silence so pure that not even the winter birds outside the mansion dared interrupt the tension between the Faerie King and Queen. The human woman that had appeared with Zechs gripped her disarrayed braids tightly, knuckles white in the presence of such great beings. Strangely though, her wide blue eyes watched Zechs without fear. Instead, she seemed to be almost in awe of him, as if she had seen within him something that had banished what might have been terror and changed it into a mix of instant loyalty and admiration. Quatre wondered at seeing it in her, a mortal, but was kept from studying the woman further as his King finally spoke, his deep voice vibrating with long-hidden sorrow and grief.
"Our child."
Quatre felt his own eyes prickle as Zech's eyes reflected a pain the King had not expressed aloud in years. Not one lament had ever been sung for the lost heir, each faerie holding a secret hope in their hearts that the Queen and her child had somehow survived together. Without the knowledge of the Heart though, their wishes could never be confirmed and Zechs had refused to wear the crown and know for certain. He, too, had wanted to hope.
Tentatively, Lu reached out a trembling hand to her husband, tears dripping down her smooth cheeks as her fingertips brushed Zech's face, her palm cupping his cheek. There was a moment of stillness before the King finally lifted his free hand to cover hers against him, a shared sadness passing between them. A few feet away, Hilde sniffed and hugged the big cat at her feet for comfort.
Zechs took a breath. "Are you certain of this?" He pointed Epyon at the oblivious huntress on the floor. "It is because of her and her line that… our child… did not survive. I have learned that some mortals are not as evil as I once thought, but their souls shall always be easily corruptible." He glanced down at Dorothy, completely drained. "To let her go free… might require more mercy than I have to give."
"She shall not go unpunished, my king." Lucrezia said quietly. "What she has done she will pay for but neither you nor I will be the toll keeper. Fate will decide for the both of us. Until then, there are other things that require our attention." Dropping her hand from her husband's face, the Faerie Queen turned to regard Hilde and Relena and her face shone with shed tears and inner joy.
"Hilde, Relena," she said, and the sound of their names made both girls straighten, an invisible thread connecting them. "You have both grown so much. I cannot express how beautiful you have become, inside and out." Lucrezia's eyes fell on Relena who still lay cradled in the loose circle of Quatre's arms. "You have not wasted my gifts, and for that alone you are special among mortals. As the King has proclaimed, there is indeed those among humans who cherish love and light and laughter." The Queen laughed lightly then and held out her hands, one to Hilde and one to Relena. The girls exchanged glances before laying their trembling hands into the Queen's own, allowing her to pull them closer, a warmth spreading through them at her touch.
Lucrezia's gaze remained on them even as her words reached other ears. "Quatre, will you gather the boys? Theirs is a story soon to be finished."
Quatre bowed. "Yes, my queen."
"And Sally, child of Yulian." The woman who had appeared with the King raised her head, eyes shining. The Faerie Queen inclined her body to the mortal woman. "The heavens will surely reward you for what you have done today, but for now, I wish for you to remain with me a little while longer."
Sally bowed her head. "As you wish, my queen."
Still holding on to the girls' hands, Lucrezia looked up at her husband, face aglow. "May we leave here, my husband? I find I wish to feel the wind on my face once again."
Zech's expression cleared and he lifted Epyon. For a moment, Quatre had the suddenly feeling that his king wished more than anything to destroy the place where they now stood, but something in his queen's eyes must have stopped him for he smiled ruefully.
"As you wish."
In a glittering whirl of power, everyone in the room was suddenly caught up in the strength of the Faerie King.
Everyone, including Dorothy.
TBC…
