Chapter 21.
He watched as the soldiers hurriedly jumped up from the table, clinking gracelessly as they donned their last pieces of armor, their superfluous feathered hats making them looking like panicking hens as they scurried out the door. He felt his teeth bared in a feral smirk as the door slammed shut solidly behind the last of them, before his eye brow jumped up as he assessed the now silent establishment.
The coiling darkness within him was crowing in pleasure at the cloying scent of fear that now permeated the smoky and yeast filled air, mingling with the tart smell of sweat and other bodily fluids. It was a lingering, sharply sticky smell that permeated every fiber of his being with a twisted satisfaction and he couldn't prevent himself from inhaling deeply, savoring the fermented atmosphere like he would sample the aroma of the finest brew.
The calm contentment that had come to him in the woods had been replaced by a sort of euphoric humor, like he had taken several hearty sips of strong liquor on an empty stomach. Looking around, he couldn't help the amusement that bubbled up at the frozen figures who allowed their heads and eyes to drop as his gaze passed over them.
A small chuckle passed his lips as he meandered back up to where he had left his drink, and with a casual swipe, lifted it from the table and brought the brew to his lips, taking a deep pull, catching the eye of the wide eyed bar tender as he did so. The man swallowed hard, but surprisingly, held his eyes, even offering a slight tip of his lips before he dropped his eyes to the glass he had cleaning.
He finished his glass as he stood there, smacking his lips loudly as he all but dropped the mug onto the wood table top before bringing his hand to wipe the foam from his face, smearing the residue on his pants. He stood for a moment considering, before swinging his leg over the edge of the bench and settling himself at the table. At the center of the room, it commanded the entire space, and he allowed his power to stretch out as he settled into his seat, casting a tense pallor over the whole tavern.
See dearie? It's nice to be the bad guy.
And just like that, the euphoria vanished and his good humor turned sour. Why the voice had suddenly shifted was beyond him but he was willing to try and claw it out if he had to.
Oh you know that won't help dearie. You are stuck with me. What a shame. To think that you spent centuries trying to silence me, and now it is your very decision that keeps my voice alive.
He growled low in his throat, feeling the anger and bitterness start to spill over, pressing a cold silence into the air. The patrons around him seemed to fade out of existence as his world started to narrow to the fury in his chest and the pounding memories behind his eyes. He could feel the memory of her warmth in his hands, draining his hope as the heat dissipated from her flesh and his love fading with the light in her eyes.
His breath started to sit shallowly in his chest and his muscles were tightening. He felt his dead heart fluttering in his chest. His body was burning , like his skin was drying and shrinking while still stretched across his flesh. He could hear the demon laughing in his head. His throat was burning. He was drowning in the fire in his veins.
Soothe the fire. Look at all the blood around you to quench your thirst. Rip their hearts out. You can use them to fill you. Make them burn for you.
The slamming down of a tanked in front of him jolted him back into awareness so suddenly he actually jumped slightly. He shot a glare at the tender as he turned away, but the man gave no indication as to whether or not he had seen the momentary lapse in his concentration. He eyed the back of the man for a moment longer, before turning back to the freshly filled tankard that had been so unceremoniously placed before him.
The brew wafted the heady scent of hops and the foam trickled temptingly down the side, but he suddenly had a singular need for water. Cold clear, soothing water. His throat felt as if he had been straining hard since the sun had risen. Like he had been panting in the hot sun.
His craving was so all consuming that as he reached for the mug, magic swirled in his palm, and by the time the pewter reached his lips, the liquid within was no longer amber, but perfectly clear, with the slightest undertone of wood, as if it had been kept in oak barrels, like how he stored water on his ship.
The liquid soothed his burning throat and as he felt it creep down his chest, the cool seemed to release his chest and lungs as it slowly made its way to his belly, letting him breathe deeply again. As he took another gulp, he closed his eyes to savor the sensation, taking greater pleasure in that cool water than he had in any alcohol he could remember. It also seemed to douse the fury in his belly and had washed away that accursed voice from his mind.
So as he waited for his message to be delivered, he opted to continue drinking the water rather than the ale the bar keep was trying to ply him with, and in the corner of his mind, he had to wonder at the man, so stoic in the face of an anomaly such as himself. The man must be paid well by the queen of he was willing to play such strange events so coolly.
As time passed, the other patrons seemed to have sensed that his ill humor, such as it was, had passed, and the quiet chatter and music of the common folk started up again. He remained at his table, sipping on his ever replenishing mug of water. A strange tune floated into his mind and seemed determined to remain there, though he could not recall the words or where he had heard such a tune before.
It was just reaching mid afternoon when a commotion outside drew his attention away from the mindless tune in his head and toward the door, which slammed open a moment later. A black silhouette commanded the threshold, and a moment later the figure stepped through it to reveal the haughty face of Lady Regina, The Evil Queen, as she had been christened by the common folk.
He had to acknowledge that the years had been kind to her, and that her youthfulness had not faded in the near twenty years since he had last seen her. Her plunging necklines and high collars showed off her ivory skin to great advantage, and the split up the front of her skirt, revealing leather riding trousers, was a tasteful adaptation. but the thing he noticed most was her eyes.
Long ago they had been dulled with grief and pain, but there had still been a lingering gentleness about her. But now that dullness had been replaced with a sharp cold gleam, and the soft lines around her eyes had been petrified over the years into a sinister hardness that bespoke only cruelty. But most telling were the deep circles she could not hide. The lines engraved by nights of self hatred and sleepless despair.
He could not help but compare her to the other woman he had recently come into contact with. The princess was innocence and gentleness. He couldn't help but wonder if, in her eyes, he bore similar marks to the face before him. But as she approached his table in the once again silent tavern, he put that thought aside and donned his air once more.
"Well, love, that was quite the entrance. Was that just for me?" He gave her and amused smirk as he slowly stood from his seat, not offering her a bow or any other acknowledgement of respect. Fury flashed in her eyes as she noticed his tone setting decision. He had placed himself on the high ground from the outset, as her entrance had been intended, graceless though the attempt was.
But she recovered quickly, "The dark one deserves only the best after all. Especially after coming all this way to congratulate me on my victory. The one you put me on the path to, so long ago."
Something clenched in his chest, roughly around where his heart was, as her words drove home the realization that the princess had been put in the position she was in by him, however indirectly. That unsettled him, made him feel as if he were somehow indebted to her for that, despite having no direct hand in the cause of her parent's demise.
"Aye, I have always thought that long term investments always paid off the most richly, and here I am, proved correct. Congratulations on achieving the victory you sought for so long." He gave her a flirtatious smirk, and he saw the moment she bought into it. He pressed his advantage. "Perhaps we can return to the castle, you can tell me exactly how you achieved your success, and I will give you all the ... congratulations... you are due."
She raised a brow as she tilted her head to assess his form. He let her, remaining unshifting as her eyes scanned his leathers. He was well aware of his appearance. He felt no need to ply false modesty now, not that she would believe such an act anyway. But to sell it, he returned her roaming assessment, licking his lip and biting down on the corner when their eyes met.
Her lips twitched up into a self satisfied smile as she, turned, half talking over her shoulder, "Yes you should join me at the castle. I think you'll be very interested in what I have to show you." She sashayed toward the door.
"Aye lass, I believe I will," he said with a sneer to her back.
Dipping his hand into his coat pocket and summoning some additional coins to his hand, he dropped the pieces on the table next to his still full goblet and followed the queen into the sun. Dílis was still waiting for him patiently at the hitching post next to the door, and twitched an ear at him curiously, awaiting an explanation for the unusual company. He shook his head at the beast, silently informing him that now was not the time for such conversations. Dílis stomped in irritation but acknowledged the situation with a huff and a whisk of his tail, before shaking his head at his present rider, indicating his exact thought on the matter.
The queen stood before a monstrous black carriage, two men flanking the door. Both were young, but still men, with beard and a mop of curl air. One had empty blue eyes while the other had cruel brown ones. For some reason he seemed familiar, like the echo of a memory. He eyed both, taking in the blue eyed one's bow and quiver, while the other had his hand braced on the pommel of an intricate long sword. The craftsmanship of the weapon indicated it was an expensive possession, and its quality matched the over wrought armor he bore. The blue eyed ne was dressed in simple hunter's cloth and furs, and stood in sharp contrast to the two figures next to him.
"Shall we?" inquired the queen, gesturing to the steps of the carriage.
"Aye, lass, we shall." He was intentionally avoiding the use of her title and he could see it was irritating her. He turned away toward Dílis to hide his smirk, the horse rolling his eyes at his antics.
"Oh there is no need to bring Max there. Come ride with me."
He turned back toward here, confused, "Who the bloody hell is Max?"
The queen rolled her eyes, "Whatever you call the horse. You have no need to bring him with you."
He considered, acknowledging the truth of her words. Now that he had a standing invitation, he had no need of another form of transport when he could teleport to wherever he desired. But as he looked at the beast, he felt an odd tug of affection. Dílis tilted his head slightly, his clear blue eyes sincere and open, and he decided.
He turned back to the queen, a condescending sneer on her face that slid off at his words "His name is Dílis, not Max, and he'll be accompanying me, if it's all the same." He didn't bother waiting for a response, simply turn back to the horse and pulling the reins from the hitching loop where he had placed them, and heaving himself back up into the saddle.
He turned back to the queen, who had not moved from her spot. "We were on our way then aye?"
He could almost hear her growl of irritation and gave her a bright smile, forcing her to do the same as she managed a falsely agreeable, "Yes we were."
And with that, she clambered in her carriage, the two men following her. The horses jumped forward under the hip after she gave the sharp command and then they were on the road headed for the castle. The tip was delightfully awkward, as he could tell she was still silently stewing from his many intentional slights over the course of their exchange.
He noticed that Dílis was unusually inexpressive, and he had a moment, he leaned over to pat the horse's neck and murmur quietly in his ear, "Buck up old boy, we'll be grand."
The horse whisked his tail in irritation at the blasé tone in his words, and sidestepped, tossing his head, telling him just what the beat thought of his whole plan.
"What else was I supposed to do?" He whispered, under the guise of soothing the animal. "Your lady needs me to help her, and I can't do that outside the castle."
The horse took a moment to process his logic before conceding with an irritated huff. But he grinned and the two kept a comfortable silence for the rest of the trek to the barrier. He could feel the magic grow thick in the air and felt Dílis tense under him. He ran a hand through the mane, altering the horse without words that he was aware of the situation.
The carriage paused a little ways in front of him, and a moment later a trail of blood red magic streamed from the interior at the barrier and he watched it eat away at the barely perceivable magic, until a large opening had been created. The carriage once again moved forward and Dílis followed closely without his urging, and the moment the horses tail had passed the barrier, he felt it snap shut behind them. The horse looked over his shoulder and they shared a glance, before they continued on to the castle, arriving just as the sun was setting.
As he dismounted, he glanced up at the sky, and sucked in a sharp breath of surprise. Dílis turned with an inquiring eye as he let out a vicious "Bloody hell," under his breath. He saw the horse's gaze, and moved up to his head, summoning an apple, both to feed the animal and to check to see if he could still utilize his powers inside the blood magic seal. He was relieved when one appeared without delay, and he offered it to the horse as he whispered, "There is a storm coming, and she is going to be right in the middle of it."
The horse stiffened, head shooting up in alarm, but he could do nothing to sooth the animal for the next moment, he heard the queen call out, "Come Dark One, my men will see to your... beast."
With a whispered, "It'll be alright lad," he gave the horse one last pat and turned away, allowing his smirk to fall in place.
"Aye, lass, I'll follow you."
Her eyes blazed again as he refused her title, but she turned, and followed by her two lackeys, made her way up the steps and into the castle. He followed just behind her, throwing a final glance over his shoulder at the darkening sky. He was concerned, but if he went back to the ship now, his chance at an open invitation would be ruined. He had to trust that the Jolly would tend her.
Once they had reached the end of the grand entrance, she turned to him. "As I was not expecting to be having guests for dinner this evening, you will have to forgive my lack of hospitality."
He had never heard an apology said with so much pride before, but he nonetheless acknowledged it with a dip of his head. "No matter, I am well aware I was unexpected. If you could direct me to m y room for the evening, I will get out of your .." he paused, his eyes flicking down to her waist then up to her quaff. " Hair."
She smirked at his implication, before motioning for the blue eyed man o set up next her, which he did without acknowledgment. "He will show you to your room. Have an enjoyable evening."
And with that she turned abruptly and march down the corridor opposite of where she had indicated he would be stay. He was glad of the distance. He watched her retreating back for a moment before turning with a shit eating grin t his companion, "Shall we then?"
The man set off without a word, and in short order they stood before a plain wooden door. The man motion once with his arm, indicating this was his desired quarters then sun and retreated back the way they had come.
"People of few words," he murmured to himself as e pushed the door open. The room was opulent compared to his cabin, but plain in terms of a castle guest room. He knew the slight was intended, but the simplistic elegance of the room did not bother him in the slightest. He was amused that she thought he would lose his temper over something like furniture.
shaking his head, he approached the stained glass window in the corner of the room, noting the harsh sound of rain pounding against the glass. It was quite the tempest.
Just as he reached the edge of the bed, which was situated in the corner of the room, lightening flashed across the panes. In the accompanying volley of thunder, he suddenly felt a terror so overwhelming it made him dizzy and he grabbed the edge of the bed to keep from falling to the floor.
A moment later it passed and he was left clutching at his chest, trying to understand where the hell that had come from and what it was. He was distracted however when another volley of lightening raced across the sky, and the rounds of thunder had him clambering to the bed, gasping as he lay on his side, his limbs shaking with a sudden terror.
As the fear faded away to the soothing sound of the rain, his mind seemed to grow heavy, and as the wind started screaming, he felt something slide over him and he knew no more.
Before him lay a pond as black as the soul within him and on its waters, a single elegant bird. It was tangled in a net and thrashing wildly. He could tell that it's fear was compounded, as it was both tied up and alone, abandoned. It seemed to be calling out to those who had been with it before and seemed to have left it, asking them to not leave it alone.
That it was frightened of being alone. Moved by the creatures plight, he hurried forward, but that only seemed to agitate the bird further when it spotted him, so he slowed his motions and very carefully approached.
"You aren't alone" he whispered, trying to soothe the creature with his voice."You are not alone." And it seemed to do the trick, for the skittish thing let him approach and with the slightest touch of his hand, the net around its neck and head vanished. He soothed his hand down the creature's form, dispelling the rest of the material and freeing the bird completely, before looking back into the creatures eyes, dipping his head so that they touched faces breaths apart..
They were beautiful, the green of the Lost Lagoon in sunlight, and they seemed familiar, shining with a fear he had seen before, though he couldn't place where. But as their eyes met, he felt peace steal through him before the creature closed its eyes, and in that moment he could have sworn that a woman was before him, forehead resting against his. So he shifted, pressing a kiss lightly to her forehead, closing his eyes to will her the peace that now seemed to permeate him.
When he opened them, he watched the bird settle down, its white feathers now unruffled and the water of the pond now still and full of light. And in a whisper on the wind, he thought he heard a thank you.