Chapter 6 – Et vogue la galère (Rated T)
"Come What May"
Ailith stared uncomprehendingly into the distance as Nuala bustled about their shared quarters on the tavern's second floor. It was a lot to take in all at once. Elven royal houses, unicorns, crowns, Great Hunts, and something or other about an oath. A Geas, was the word the Princess had used. But what disturbed Ailith more than anything was the fact that she had absolutely no memory of any of the things they had discussed, though the words did seem oddly familiar. It was a little like the Names that came to her so easily these days. They weren't something she ever knew beforehand, and not at all like memories, but as though she had somehow overheard them. For a time, she thought of it a little like eavesdropping but in this case, on a conversation the universe was having with itself. Now she thought of it more like reading a person or an object's characteristics as letters, and the whole of their being as a word. In the end, all she needed was to know how to read and the message came readily. Remembering how she had first learned the alphabet was secondary. Ailith stared down at her hands, idly picking at the crackled skin on her palms, and thought back to another conversation she'd had with Nuada just days before.
"It is a wounding." He had said, gesturing towards the lines and fissures on her face. "Far greater than any I have shared. With time, my wounds heal. That will not."
She hadn't understood his meaning in that moment but now, the conversation felt almost sinister.
"Some injuries must be bound before they can heal." He told her.
Nuala roused her from the reverie. "Ailie?"
"Hmmm?"
"Are you alright?"
"Yes. I think so."
"Good." The Princess settled on the bed next to her. "Now listen, I won't be gone long. The Wharf is less than an hour from here. I'll find us a ship on the waterfront and get us passage on Lethe. Once we're in the Underground, the river passes through the Barrens of the Near Dreaming. We should be in Bathmoora before nightfall."
"And then what?" Ailith asked.
"You'll be safe there." Nuala replied. "The Wild Hunt may never pass beyond the borders of sovereign land. It is limited to the outreaches and unnamed places. You can claim sanctuary in the halls of my father and wait for it to pass."
Ailith nodded. She didn't have the heart to tell her earnest companion just how conflicted she felt about all this. If what she had been told was correct, Nuada might, in fact, be her only hope in recovering the memory she had lost. In short, for becoming herself again. Whoever that may have been. But it did not escape her that this "binding" would come at a cost. In allowing herself to be caught, or in being what amounted to a prize in the Great Hunt, she would also be accepting the Geas that came with it. She scowled. The Fae weren't exactly above arranged marriages but this seemed a little extreme. In the end, she cared for Nuada but she also didn't know him that well and this business of the Hunt wasn't improving her perspective.
"Promise me you'll wait here until I return?" Nuala grasped her hands emphatically. "Stay hidden and don't let anyone know where you are."
"I promise." Ailith replied. She didn't really know where else she'd go right now anyway. She had never been to this part of town and couldn't have told anyone where she was even if she wanted to.
Nuala nodded before rising and shouldering her small satchel. "Just an hour or two. Then we leave." She announced with an air of confidence. With that, the door flew open and the Princess was gone.
Ailith sighed and flopped backwards onto the quilt. This was going to be a very long, very bizarre, day.
She drifted in and out of sleep. Exhausted, but too tense to really rest. The dream began to take shape slowly; troubled and fretful…
…Somewhere, there is a fire.
Tendrils of wood smoke curled casually across the rough wooden beams of the ceiling. The room was warm and quiet, the monotonous ticking of an old clock adding a calming beat to the rustic ambiance. It took a few disorienting moments but it soon became all too clear in the dawning of a more wakeful mind that this was a cabin, far out in the woods, and a long way from Washington D.C.
She stirred, tearing away from the fevered dream with an instinctive panic, roused as she was by the sense of a nearby flame.
It was only through occasional flashes of concentration that she was able to keep her composure, even as confusion and concern flooded her mind and knit a furrow across her brow. Her vision was uncharacteristically blurry at first, causing her to squint and strain. Slowly, almost painfully, she sat upright in a bewildered attempt to familiarize herself with these new and unexpected surroundings.
The tavern room was transformed and, in its place, the bucolic atmosphere of a winter cabin was unmistakable. A low fire smoldered and popped in the fireplace. Only it and a single candle, set solidly in the center of the main table, lit the small room. She found herself, strangely, still sitting on a bed. Piled high with rumpled linen sheets and blankets, it looked as though she had been there for a while. Near the bed, an end table contained a few familiar accoutrements. A stack of her favorite books, a teacup, and the carousel necklace. At first, it also seemed that she was alone, before an equally unmistakable voice rippled across the calm.
"Kind of you to finally join me."
It was Nuada. He was sitting, leaning slightly to his left, on a chair near the table. Ailith's face twisted into a grimace, though whether it was due to the faint pain that had started to spark throughout her tired body or to her recognition of Nuada's voice was unclear. Her eyes squinted at the blurred Prince, hands fumbling at her face for a quick press to her forehead that brought the cabin around her into focus.
"Nuada?" Ailith queried with a sudden sense of panic. Had he found her already? How long had she been asleep?
"Try not to sound so happy to see me, Ailith." came the rather dry reply.
As he slowly came into focus, two somewhat odd things became apparent. Firstly, as the Prince rested at ease at the table, soft wisps of white-blonde hair gently cascaded around his shoulders, a few strands lightly brushing his face in an unkempt fall of burnished locks. Combined with the loose, linen shirt he wore, the entire visage made him look far younger than his usual haughty demeanor allowed. In the flickering firelight it was easy to call him handsome.
The second far more striking thing, however, was that in this rare occasion, Nuada had seen fit to address his apparent charge, as Ailith. Not 'My Lady.' Not some other honorific or affectation. Just her name. With her mind still adjusting to her surroundings, Ailith failed to notice her own hand as it lifted to touch the reddish markings in the center of her forehead. It was a simple enough gesture, yet all too telling to anyone the wiser. She adjusted her posture into a more proper sitting form, crossing her legs beneath the linen sheets and gathering her composure.
"I'm…. I am happy to see you." Oddly, she actually meant it. "It's just, I don't recognize this place and I didn't expect…this."
With one hand resting on the table, the other passing idly through his hair, Nuada paused to push the last few strands from his eyes.
"I would imagine not. But as my sister has seen fit to steal you away, there weren't many other options."
Regardless of his choice of words, his tone did not seem harsh or pointed. Also strange for him in these circumstances.
"So. To what pleasure do I owe your apparent… vigil?" Ailith offered, stalling in way, as she hoped her situation would become clearer. Everything around her was vague and dream-like but it was also so unlike a dream. She felt awake and aware, in control of her thoughts and actions, but the world around her remained shifting and indistinct. She only knew it to be a cabin because it seemed like a cabin. And there was a fire in the fireplace simply because it was logical for one to appear. Dreams were confusing like that.
His eyes strayed across the place where she sat. Though Nuada's gaze remained impenetrable, betraying nothing that the Prince hid behind dark, golden, eyes.
"We should talk." Nuada's calm, deep, voice was unusually comforting given the setting and situation.
Ailith's fingers absently wandered to the table to feel about for her necklace and begin toying with the chain, quickly soothing her thoughts with the manual distraction. She leaned backwards until her back came to rest against the headboard, fixing her expression in a look of passive neutrality she didn't at all feel. If she was dreaming, nothing of consequence would come of this conversation, so there was no sense in getting worked up. If, somehow, she wasn't, and this really was Nuada, she didn't want to risk angering him in a situation she was having trouble comprehending, to say nothing of controlling.
Ignoring the implications of his last comment, Ailith attempted a breezy observation. "So, this must be some kind of hunting lodge, yes? What brings you out here?"
"I think you already know the answer to that. You were, after all, the one to run." The dry chuckle in Nuada's voice was one of nearly genuine amusement.
Ailith pursed her lips to avoid openly glaring at him. The glimmer of mirth in the Prince's eyes belied something he chose not to give voice. Ailith however, was, unfortunately, unable to mask the expression of distaste before it reached her face.
"Did you just call me prey?"
"No." Came the unexpected reply. "And even if I did, it would be inaccurate. The words we use to describe things are so often inadequate in capturing their essence and none more so than now."
Nuada pressed his back into the chair, somewhat precariously close to the fireplace.
"But you and I can only be separated for so long now. Even this barrier will crumble. The Dream cannot last forever."
So, it *was* him, it would seem.
"Why are you doing this?" Ailith rejoined. "What did I ever do to you that you would…. hunt me?"
Nuada remained impassive but his words began to color with unexpressed emotion. "I mean you no harm, Ailith."
She responded with an incredulous look.
"I am not deceiving you. Though, I can understand why you might think so." He smiled lightly. "The truth is, there is something I must return to you. Something…I owe you."
"And the Great Hunt?" She shot back, too anxious to catch the significance of his admission. "Nuala told me about the Geas and…and…the High King! Don't try to pretend there isn't something else you're after."
Putting his rising frustrations aside, Nuada let his eyes slide shut in a moment of contemplation. The next phrase, while spoken evenly, came completely out of left field.
"Take your book from the table, Ailith. Look at the painting on the first page and tell me what you see."
She stared at him as one might a great beast about to pounce. But he did not move. Hesitantly, she reached for the book, a readily recognizable copy of the Lebor Gabála Érenn; a collection of poems and stories said to be that of the true history of Ireland from the creation of the world to the first days of the Middle Ages. She'd read it many times but as the smooth, cloth, binding slid onto her lap, she realized something was amiss. Rather than the typical image of Irish warriors and gods who usually adorned the cover, it contained only a single figure; a unicorn facing an oncoming tempest.
Ailith quickly flipped to the first page and unfolded a three-part illuminated manuscript tucked into the stitching. It was a glorious riot of color and imagery, hand-painted and embossed with gold leaf and silver accents. From left to right it showed a great kingdom rising above an endless expanse of woodlands, populated by all manner of creatures both animal-like and fairy. The courtyards of the castle at its center were decorated for a celebration, with banners and flowers spilling out of every corner. Everywhere, the drawing seemed animate, moving of its own accord as a great din of laughter and joy drifted up from the pages. There were dancers and performers, musicians and artisans, knights in armor astride massive horses, children racing about through their parents' legs, people leaping into the fountains and splashing in the pools, and at their center…
…she looked up at him.
"What do you see?" He repeated.
"It's a unicorn." She faltered. Ailith looked back down at the page and carefully rubbed her thumb against the raised form of the creature rendered in white and gold. "She's beautiful. She's walking along side all these people and wearing a crown of lilies, I think. She…looks happy."
Nuada nodded. "The last Great Hunt of the Unicorn is known only by a series of tapestries woven by Men and hung in the chateaus of France. Until they were almost burned, anyway. From there, they were stolen and now hang somewhere not too far from here, I believe. I've seen all seven of them, The Start of the Hunt, The Fountain, The Unicorn Attacked, The Unicorn Defending Himself, The Unicorn Captured by the Virgin, The Unicorn Killed, and The Unicorn in Captivity. They are beautiful. But they are also a lie."
Ailith gripped the book. "I don't understand."
"The Hunt is about life, Ailith. Not death. Not imprisonment." Nuada replied gently. "It is more than an ancient pact, it is a promise. A promise in the possibility of renewal and rebirth. When it ended, my people believed that all had been lost. That the sun, would never rise again on their world. In despair, we have only barely lived since then. A darkness, a melancholy, we could never escape. All we could do, was watch as sorrow slowly consumed us. Do you understand that?"
"I don't know." She answered honestly.
The figures on the paper shifted again. Now the unicorn was adorned in precious gems, glittering in the sunlight. The walls of the castle gave way to a gallery of murals, each showing a Hunt that had come before it. She watched it with open fascination.
"Who are these elves here?" She indicated a line of heroic-looking figures arranged along the bottom border, with ivy and violets.
"The Caidreamh laochra, the Consorts of the Unicorns." Nuada explained. "In the time of the Dannean kings, it was not uncommon for second and third sons and daughters, those who were spared from the ascension of throne or title, to bind their lives and their Fates to the Trees and become guardians or stewards of the land. Many of these became the great heroes of legend whose stories are still told today. The finest among them all would occasionally be chosen and become the Caidreamh laochra. Their bloodlines carried the strength of ancient magic and renewed the Elven Houses each Summer with warriors and sages the likes of which will likely never be seen again. Though, I doubt there is any elf alive right now who cannot trace one of their line back to the love of a Unicorn."
Flustered by his words, Ailith immediately spoke her mind on the topic. "And what about you? How long has it been since you've been…a… a lover?"
Nuada was slightly taken aback by the question but did not flinch. He chuckled. "I'm not entirely sure any woman I've known would use that term."
What Nuada had meant to convey was that he had only ever occasionally indulged in physical pleasure. And when he had, it was rarely with the same person twice. So, in that sense, he had never considered himself as anyone's lover, nor anyone to him. He had also always been especially studious in avoiding any pairing during the Midsummer, lest the union result in the birth of a child. It became clear to him, however, that what he had actually said was not being quite so well received.
"So, what does that make me to you when this is done?" Ailith snapped, looking somewhat more menacing from her perch on the bed than she had previously.
Nuada chose his words carefully. "I suppose we will have to see what comes of it. But I am not here to force you, Ailith. That is not my intention."
Her temper was not satisfied. Ailith's voice lifted in volume, her face creasing with effort as she lifted the book in her lap to begin gesturing with it wildly. Worry, fear, and a growing sense of betrayal whirled in a chaotic maelstrom through her thoughts.
"Force me?! And yet there is a literal hunt after me! Surely, you've *something* in mind. Would you would have me as a puppet? A trophy to trade for another trophy!? Tell me this isn't all about one thing, and that thing is you!"
The Prince, now stronger and more focused from his encounter with death, rose to his feet; the chair skittering backwards. His voice was a vicious hiss, eyes glittering with rage no longer hidden behind a mask of propriety. He stalked closer to her, his entire body tense and at the ready; shaking with powerful emotion.
"I would not toy so idly with words, Ailith. And do not play at indignation with me. Neither of us have tears enough for what has been brought upon our people and I would have seen those insults avenged. But in the end, I failed. Even death was no release. And still our people suffer. Still they cower under bridges and sewers, desperate for any last hope, all the while Mankind continues to burn our forests to ash and crush our Kinfolk into fodder to fuel their greed. There is *nothing* left for them." He spat. "And then, in a single moment, I was presented with one choice, one possibility, one last chance to change that."
He was nearly shouting. "I will hunt a thousand Unicorns if there is even the slightest possibility that it means they can be saved."
A quiver cracked Ailith's throat, betraying the fear that welled inside of her in the face of the furious elven Prince.
"Fine." She sniffed. "There you have it. You become the High King and I…I…what…. get locked in a tower somewhere?! That's how this goes, right?"
With a motion almost too fast to follow, Nuada was leaning over the bedside, nose to nose with Ailith in seconds. His mouth was curled in a snarl, though he stopped short of actually baring his teeth. A soft cascade of fire lit hair descended over his shoulders, swirling across his face and settling into the deep lines of his scars.
"Is that what you think me? Is that what you think I am? Weeks you visited me in confinement and so much we spoke of at length that now you claim not to know my mind. I ruminated on this decision for a great while and do you know why that is?"
Ailith shrank back, but the wall and the headboard meant that she could not go far. "How should I know? As everyone so helpfully keeps pointing out to me, I'm apparently not in my right mind! Clearly, I don't know anything at all!"
He narrowed his eyes into amber points of shrewd cunning.
"A Hunt is not won through pursuit alone. Give me whatever challenges you wish, Ailith. That is your right and I will answer each one in whatever way you decide. Run from me; I will find you. Offer me riddles; I will solve them. Set impossible tasks or demand impossible things; I will fulfill whatever deeds you can imagine. If I cannot, then I was never worthy to try. But if there is one thing that must be made clear, it is the stakes of this endeavor. So, if you will not see things as they are, then I will see them for you."
The motion was nigh imperceptible but, in a heartbeat, Nuada brought both hands to Ailith's shoulders in a firm grip, locking the startled girl in place. With sudden upheaval, he sat down at the edge of the bed and drug his unwilling captive against his chest, one hand tight around the back of Ailith's neck, the other solidly at her back.
Ailith was barely able to utter a shout of surprise before Nuada seized her. In that moment, she had half a mind to hit him, for what good it would do, while her mind raced between possibilities. Did he intend to drag her off? Break her neck? Pin her to the wall? Something much worse?
And then, he stopped.
All she could do was breathe. Tense and slightly trembling, she waited for him to act. But he did nothing; merely held her against him in what, she now realized, was the very first physical contact they had ever shared. Relatively speaking. His breathing was slow, even; his posture supporting her as she leaned into him. His body was warm where he rested against her and his expression uneasy where she could feel his cheek near her ear.
Only a single word found her voice, stuttered in a vulnerable plea of desperation. "Don't..."
For several seconds, he did not respond; a white-knuckled grip hardly necessary to keep Ailith in place, especially given that she had not struggled against him. In truth, he had expected her to and when more moments passed in frightened silence, he eased his hold and slowly drew back from her to turn his head. With something that almost might have been taken to be tenderness, Nuada brought his lips against Ailith's ear, still holding her close but not returning to the crushing grip he'd started with. His voice was barely a whisper through unruly locks of white hair.
"Don't what?"
Angry. Fearful. Irate. Cautious. Curious. She was all these things at once. Part of her wanted to throw him off and run out the door, damn it all where it might lead, or, barring that, scratch his eyes out and then escape. Another part of her wanted to know what he meant by all this. Had their nights-long musings and discussions in the cellblock of B.P.R.D. been in pursuit of some other ulterior motive? Who had she been before all this and did he know her? What did it mean to be a Unicorn and why did she not understand this? And then there was the small part of her that wanted him to stay as he was; to feel his touch turn gentle and see his rage become affection. Her response, then, confused even her.
"Don't be angry."
He canted his head and regarded her thoughtfully. "What is it you are asking of me, Ailith?"
She swallowed nervously and raised one hand to trail tentative fingertips over the scarred line that started near his ear, cut across both of his cheekbones and over the bridge of his nose. It was a particular characteristic of his face that she had often wanted to touch, if just to feel how deep it went. As she did so, she heard a whisper in the depths of her mind. A Name, in lilting syllables just barely breaking through her subconscious. He closed his eyes and sighed.
"Just…" She started. "Just, don't be angry."
When he opened his eyes again, they were russet but calm. "It is because of you that I have life at all." He said. "By that very fact, it belongs to you. Ask what you will, and I will answer."
"What am I supposed to see?"
She liked him this way. He was more like he had been before. More contemplative than militant, and less hostile to the world around him. She felt him tense at the question but he did not pull away. Rather, she felt the hand at the back of her neck drift forward and take hold of her chin, tilting her face up to meet him. He then leaned forward, brushing his lips against hers with the most minimal amount of contact. Letting her feel him but never quite closing the distance into a real kiss.
"Me." He whispered…
…She awoke fighting; Nuala shaking her back into consciousness with a terrified yell.
"Ailith! Get away from that place! You must come back!"
When she opened her eyes, the tavern had returned; the companion at her side a Princess, and no longer a Prince.
But somewhere, there was a fire.