Hope For The Heartless Chapter 101, a black cauldron fanfic

Chapter 101

They sat there for a long while, catching their breath and watching the sun ease on down the sky. The length of the shadows indicated it was later in the afternoon, but neither of them showed interest in moving.

The Horned King leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. The peace here was impenetrable, covering everything like a comfortable blanket. It was a peace unlike anything he had ever felt before, a deep calm within himself that felt as if it could never be stirred.

Avalina glanced over at him, leaning against the trunk herself, her knees pulled up to her chin.

His hands lay folded across his chest, his head tiled back slightly, looking the most relaxed she had ever seen him, and she couldn't help smiling softly at him, before turning back to the west.

Mitternacht cropped the short grass that wasn't covered in leaves near them, raising his head occasionally to stare out over the landscape.

Avalina closed her eyes against the sunlight as it bathed her in its warmth, and she sighed contentedly, shifting slightly. The sun did nothing to ease her tiredness, instead heightening it, and she was quite comfortable.

She was very nearly asleep when Mitternacht nuzzled her back to wakefulness, and when she tiredly opened her eyes, she realized the sun was fixing to set.

"Oh! Sir!" She said excitedly, leaning over to lightly touch his arm, "I want you to see this!"

The lich's eyes came open as he glanced over at her, shading his face from the sun with one hand.

Following Avalina's pointing, he turned his gaze to the rock ledge in front of them, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

"What is it?" He dredged out slowly.

"The sun's fixing to set!"

He raised his eyes upward then, watching the fiery orb ease farther down into the sky, nearly touching the horizon.

From his chambers in the castle he was not able to see the sunset, as his window faced east. The idea of watching the sun rise or sink had never occurred to him until now, but now that she mentioned it. . .

He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen one.

Faintly re-positioning himself, he did as she asked.

The sun had turned from golden to a bloody orange, and the cloudbanks all around it morphed steadily into a blazing symphony of colors he doubted that even the finest of bards could ever begin to describe accurately enough.

Its brilliant fingers danced across the lake's slowly rippling surface, sheeting the water in fiery crystals as the burning orb seemed to be consumed by the liquid depths of the earth. The blazing beams slowly lost their grip as the sun slipped over the edge, back into its watery grave, and the world turned bluer and blacker as darkness conquered this round.

When the water's maw finally closed over its victim and the sun disappeared with a final sparkling flash, the water swiftly began to blacken, and the sky dimmed as stars began to peek out of the shadowy curtains, as if watching for enemies before coming out to play.

The chill came quickly to the earth following the disappearance of the sun, and Avalina shivered, suddenly realizing how cool it had become, and rubbed her arms.

"We should return," the Horned King told her as he rose gracefully from the ground, dusting his robe off.

Nodding, Avalina rose and called Mitternacht over.

She shivered as she slid the saddle into place, wishing she had remembered a cloak of some sort. She had been in such a rush to get going it had slipped her mind, and the morning had been so warm nothing had been needed.

Her fingers clumsily tightened the straps of the saddle as she tried not to think about the long ride back. She couldn't believe she had forgotten her cloak in the first place, and to add to her discomfort, her stomach had decided to choose this moment to inform her she hadn't eaten since breakfast.

Gritting her teeth to prevent her shivers from being too noticeable, she swung into the saddle and leaned out of the Horned King's way as he swung up behind her.

"Wait," the Horned King told her as she gathered up the reins. She obliged, trying to stop from shaking against him, however slight it may be.

A thick weight fell over her shoulders and arms as the lich draped his stole around her backwards, covering her chest rather than her back.

Avalina couldn't help shaking harder for a second, surprised by this.

"Th-thank you," she managed out, pulling the reins underneath the stole as well, feeling the warmth beginning to surround her.

"Think nothing of it," he rumbled, reaching around on either side of her to grasp the pommel, "I do not relish the idea of stopping in the middle of the woods at this hour because you shook yourself from the saddle."

"V-very fu-funny," Avalina chuckled around her shaking, which was beginning to die down, "Just make su-sure you follow your own advice and d-don't let a limb st-string you up b-by your headg-gear."

He growled softly in his chest, which vibrated against her back, and after a brief moment of apprehension on her part, she heard him grumble, "The tree would give before these things do."

She could sense he spoke mostly in jest, but decided it might be best not to reply, as she felt he did not wish to speak any more of the subject.

Turning Mitternacht around, they headed along the edge of the ridge.

It was now almost completely dark, but Avalina had ridden Mitternacht up here many times at night. He knew what he was doing and she let him take his time.

Getting back down the hill took three times as long as it had before, as the horse picked his way carefully down, feeling for his footing.

After that the ride became easy. The horse knew the way and needed no guidance, and Avalina trusted him.

An hour passed. The woods gradually grew a fraction paler as the moon, not quite half full, eased into the sky and bathed the forest in its soft, white glow, providing just enough light for Avalina to make out the trees and bushes.

The soft swish of the leaves as Mitternacht walked through them blocked out any other noise that may have made itself heard.

Avalina felt the horse worry at his bit and slow his steps by a fraction of a second, and she strained her eyes in the dark as he walked slower and slower and finally stopped completely, his ears twitching.

Her throat tightened as she made out the fork in the trail, right by Mitternacht's feet. He had stopped right in the crossroad, unsure of which path to take.

Avalina's fingers twisted the reins, Mitternacht shifting slightly, as they glanced down the paler path to the left, one of the horse's ears cocked forward towards it and the other turned backwards, waiting for the order.

'Come,' the forest path seemed to whisper, 'Come home!'

Her mother would be fixing supper about now, and Arran would no doubt be washing up to eat. She could instantly visualize the small but tidy kitchen alive with the scent of her mother's cooking, the table set, and her mother hovering over the fire, wearing that old apron with a clumsy patch in the front, Avalina's first attempt at sewing.

Hot tears sprang to her eyes and the trees blurred together heavily as she gritted her teeth and swallowed hard, determined not to sob out loud.

Blinking furiously, she felt them run down her cheeks and drip off, and she shook silently with the grief that had lain dormant all this time, as all the heartache struck her like a hammer blow.

She sniffed once and gently laid a hand on Mitternacht's neck, searching for comfort of some type as much as she sought to silently explain to the horse that that was a trail they could never take again.

Mitternacht did not move, still staring down the left trail like he had been frozen, listening. Watching. Waiting. Waiting for her command.

Closing her eyes and biting her lip, Avalina gave the order, and after a long pause, Mitternacht tossed his head slightly and headed right, deeper into the forest and away from the object of all her suffering.

She fought to stop crying as they kept walking, and she thanked the Fates for being merciful enough to have it dark, with Mitternacht's steps drowned out her pathetic sniffling.

Stopping was nearly impossible. A pain this deep could never simply disappear, and her tears continued to flow long after they had left the trail behind them.

She had felt the Horned King's attitude change from relaxed and contented to irritated anger in an instant, and she felt her fear of him well up again, unbiddenly remembering his wrath and that he was responsible for the emotional pain she was currently in.

The warmth of the stole around her, combined with Mitternacht's steady, rocking gait, was steadily easing Avalina to sleep, and when the horse walked up a small rise in the forest floor, she slipped back against the Horned King and stayed there, too tired and depressed to straighten back up.

The events of the day, particularly this last one, had drained her of all strength.

She had finally made herself quit crying, but her trembling would be an even longer time leaving, as the heat of her pain left to be replaced with something that felt like a chunk of ice in her stomach that wouldn't melt.

Avalina wasn't aware that the Horned King was no longer gripping the pommel of the saddle until Mitternacht walked up another hill, steeper than the last, and she felt his arms reach up and grab the pommel for balance as the horse went up.

He did not move from this position after Mitternacht hit level ground again, and Avalina could not decide if she wanted him to stay there or not.

In truth, she was too tired and depressed to really care.

The rest of the ride seemed to drag on, as Avalina drifted in and out of alert consciousness, rather oblivious to everything but the horse and the warmth of the stole that surrounded her.

She was dimly aware of the horse coming out of the forest and heading through the wasteland around the castle, where the sound of his steps had vanished to practically nothing on the hard dirt.