Hello to all of my amazing followers. This shall be the final part of my fanfiction, but I assure you, I'll make sure it's long. It's been an amazing journey writing this story over this last span of several months and has helped me realize how fantastic this career could be professionally. As a teen, I have so many career options constantly buzzing around in my head; but being writer continues to remain at the top. I encourage everyone who has enjoyed my writing to try composing their own fanfiction. No one is a terrible writer, simply you must find a topic that interests you and practice. Looking back on my first few chapters, I myself think they're pretty bad.
I'm starting a new fanfiction on RQ4 soon; I'll begin releasing chapters as soon as I can! I'll also post another chapter on this story that gives the details!
Enjoy! "All was well." -J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
*Six months later*
Mare
Soft, golden light filters through flimsy white curtains, rousing me. Wiping the sleep away from the rims of my eyes, I make an attempt to get out of bed to get a drink of water; however, strong arms pull me back into the cushy mattress.
"Was that an effort to get away from me?" Cal asks, teasing.
"Another failed endeavor," I reply, letting out a mock-sigh. "You know how much I despise you."
Cal lets out a faint chuckle, before pulling me in close. My face rests on his chest, radiating warmth. Not that I need it though, as it's June now. This last week has been pleasantly hot, always accompanied by a balmy breeze. Not a cloud in the sky anymore, the sun always napping high above us. In an odd sense, life has become strange. The war ended in early December of last year, and ever since then, life has been different for me. Since I've been able to speak, I've known how my life would play out. It seemed that no matter what path I would choose, it would be a losing situation. And now, I'm at peace. Maven is dead, and Norta shall become a democracy.
"You know we should probably get going," I explain. "The polls open in an hour." Today we're voting for official members to govern Norta, as well as a leader. Farley and Davidson both opted to run for leader, and from recent predictions, the margins between frontrunners will be slim.
"And it's a fifteen-minute drive to the square. You're worried for nothing!"
I let out a sigh. Perhaps he's right; it's not as if Maven is going to claw himself out of the grave before elections. "Maybe. I just want to get there early."
"In case of what? A couple of silvers storm the area? Guards have been positioned around every corner in a hundred meter radius. Silencers too. We don't need a lightning show. That's for later."
I can't help but smile. Tonight we decided a giant festival would be held to commemorate the day Norta became a better place. Farley thought it would only be fitting if it ended with some makeshift fireworks. "Fine. But only ten more minutes."
"Well-"
I stop Cal before he persuades me further. "Ten."
"Fine. But I'm making the most of it." Cal flashes a wicked smile, crooked as ever. Before I can halt him, he's running his fingers over my obliques, and onto my stomach. I made the devastating mistake of allowing to him discover my weakness. I'm terribly ticklish.
An odd sound crawls out of my throat; a cross between a giggle and a scream. "Stop it!" I cry.
He replies with a simple "No." His respond walks a fine line between infuriating and endearing.
I echo his answer. Using a minuscule amount of power, I send electricity to my skin. In a disaster of tangled limbs, he instantly is stunned. Just enough time for me to get away from the madman, and skid out of the of the room, into the hallway.
Just a few days after the final battle, silver property was divided up among all of us, still leaving enough for silvers to live comfortably. Houses are in the process of being constructed for folk of all blood, but everyone has a temporary home for now. Cal and I reside at a greenwarden estate, just on the outskirts of the city. It's a large residence; much more than I've ever had, or for that matter, wanted. The place is comprised of three stories, including a basement, which seems to hold nothing but wine and cigars. On the first main level lies an ornate sitting room, a kitchen, and a den. Above are bedrooms, and a few luxury bathrooms. I first stepped into the home, vines with these magnificent multicolored flowers grew around every bend, even into a few cabinets and wrapping around bedposts. In a sense, it's a bit sad that those flowers and vines had to be clipped and torn away; but the greenwardens had been rather disgusted when asked to share their estate with us, and had chosen to forsake their property over sharing it. With no one to tend to the plants, it was simply best to let them go.
"You're going to pay for that." I hear Cal's voice resound down the hallway, and my feet find themselves shuffling faster. Down the polished wooden stairs, skipping every other one until my feet find the landing. I weave through the kitchen and slide over the marble island, knocking over a few spice containers. Into the sitting room, over the overstuffed chairs I've come to relish. And finally, I push through the grand front doors; enhanced with stained glass that creates a sort of kaleidoscope pattern. A subtle morning breeze greets me, sending chills down my back, all the way to my feet. But the coldness is compensated by the sun, just beginning to rise from the horizon, lighting up the Earth. However, I don't have much time to enjoy it, as I hear footsteps pattering towards me. So much for being sneaky. I slam the door behind me and sprint for the garden that sprawls out on the backside of there structure.
Curse my short legs; Cal's arms wrap around me in mere seconds, before sending us both flying into the wet morning dew grass. Cal pins me under him, our faces not four inches from one another's. He knits his eyebrows together in confusion. "Where were you planning on going?"
"I don't know. Away from you, I suppose." Cal's a good foot taller than I am, giving him an unfair advantage when it comes to sprinting. I gave up attempting to beat him a while ago.
We both chuckle, and for a few moments, we seem to be frozen in time. No one else around us, only a rare mockingbird flitting about from branch to branch. Surrounded by the greenest grass, and untainted buds of blooming flowers. Nothing could be more perfect than this.
"I think I finally understood why no one else wanted to live in the house with us," I say.
Cal was right, we get to Caeser's Square with time to spare. Over these last months, they've done a good job of repairing the area, though I doubt it will ever be returned to its old glory. Today, however-the expanse is unrecognizable. Tens of people sit behind desks, scribbling on sheets of paper. Lines of people-every ethnicity of blood- stand behind those desks, waiting their turn to cast their vote. I can't even imagine how we pulled this off. All across the country, this same process is happening. It's an amazement, horror, and mystery that riots haven't broken out yet.
Farley rushes up to me, biting her lip so forcefully it's a wonder it hasn't begun to hemorrhage. Today she wears a pair of navy-blue dress pants, with a black blouse, and a pinstriped blazer to boot. When she first announced she was running for leader, I was starstruck; Farley's always preferred to be on the battlefield, in the thick of things. But to be fair, over time I came to realize she's been leading us all along, just not from behind a desk. Still, it's odd to see her in dress clothing, over a bulletproof jacket and army boots. "Yes. I'm wearing different clothing. But it's still rude to stare," Farley barks, reading my mind. Literally.
"Can you not? Sorry, I'm just not used to seeing you like this."
Her fingers go to pinch the bridge of her nose, trying to relieve stress. "No, it's me who should be sorry. My brain's going a thousand miles an hour, having to organize all of this. And the anticipation!" I'm tempted to tell Farley maybe her mind wouldn't be running so fast if she stopped looking into other's. But based on the dirty look she gives me, she already heard me.
Like water of a duck's back, I let it go. Farley doesn't need more topics to worry about. Farley follows me to one of the shorter lines, never letting her arms uncross. I can't help but laugh. "Calm down. This isn't life or death, Farley. You were more relaxed when that bastard froze your arm." I speak of the time when Farley was imprisoned; when I was still a princess. Though she escaped, I still wince at the memory. Cal did that. He ordered the torture. I have to remind myself that that was a lifetime ago; Cal nor I are the people we once were.
"A normal human-being would think that, wouldn't they?" Farley finally uncrosses her arms, letting them swing freely at her sides. "But all my life-despite what you may know about silvers- I was raised for battle. I wasn't a common silver, but I wasn't elite either. So my father and mother decided I would enroll in the war, to help the Lakelands find victory. They never saw the point in me becoming a lady when they could have a warrior." Farley smiles wistfully, most likely remembering her parents. Soon after Farley's true colors came out, I'm under the impression her father fled, daunted by the repercussions he was certain to face. And as for her mother, the little information I've gathered I assume to be true. Her mother died years ago when Farley was still a little girl; though she's never said, I assume she loved her mother very much. A mother's love is something special.
"I can't establish whether I'm more terrified of losing or winning. If I win, I'll have the constant pressure of keeping the scales balanced between the reds and silvers. The peace is already nervous between the country, always on the brink of collapsing. At least if I am defeated, I'll only have to face the shame of losing, instead of failing an entire population."
I shake my head scornfully. Every word that has excited Farley's mouth has been complete nonsense. "Don't be such a fool. You're lying to not only me but also yourself if you say things like that. And anyway, you have an entire council to seek wisdom from. And Cal, who was groomed to be a leader. And me." Farley's eye twitches as her eyelids squint together. I've observed this look before; she's searching my mind as though she perceives I'm lying to her. Finally, I can't handle it anymore. "Stop it," I snap. "Stop paging through my head as if I'm a book for you to read at your every will and whim."
Farley flinches and takes a step back, just as if I slapped her across the face. "I'm sorry," she mutters. "It's just that I've grown up with it. Old habits die hard." She recrosses her arms, slouching again. "But I couldn't help but notice. You plan on leaving the capital once things settle down. Yet you tell me you'll help me through governing."
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Farley may be a whisper, with access to other's thoughts, yet it seems she can't find her own. "And I will. I will stay as long as you need me to. But I've known you for a couple of years now, and I have troubling thinking you'll need help for long. Everything will be alright. Now stop psyching yourself out, and grasp a few more votes to switch sides." I give her an encouraging grin.
She cracks an even wider smile, before gliding off to a nearby cluster of voters. The thoughts she pulled from the back of my head come rushing up to become foremost. I don't plan on staying in the capital forever; frankly, I hate everything this city has done to me, even if it is water under the bridge. Maybe someday in the future, we could retire to a nice, simple home in the country. Where wildflowers are never out of season, and rainbows ghost the horizon after every rain. I have no desire for a lifetime of politics and nonstop worry that more bloodshed will break out. I've had enough of both of those to last ten lifetimes. In hindsight, it seems so stupid that I would've ever wanted to bring children into this cruel world. But now, with the war over, it seems like a plausible idea for someday. But not for awhile, I tell myself. But someday, perhaps. And perhaps it still is a cruel world, even with the blood divide fading. Maybe I've just learned how to better protect myself and others from all of cruelty's beatings.
After a fifteen minute wait in line, the girl who had been ahead hands me a pen. I take my time to stroll to the metal desk, courtesy of Evangeline. I'll savor this moment and never forget it. The day I became truly, and utterly free.
Evening has fallen upon us, the sky now a hue of dark blue. Sizeable bonfires light select patches of land, acting as the only source of light, besides for the occasional street lamp that hadn't collapsed in December. I now sit on the edge of the bridge with Giza, Bree, and Tramy. Cal wondered off elsewhere, perhaps to the palace. To get one last gaze at his father's portrait before they were seared to ashes. Not a fraction of Elara, but I despised his father. He was the very face of what I had been raised to hate. But I make an effort to look at him from Cal's perspective; a father as loving as any other, and so very proud of him. We both had had previous lives before we met one another, so I let him be, while I sit with my siblings.
Tramy and Bree sit on my left side, jokingly shoving each other with one arm, while the other clings to the substantial wire that connects the bottom and top halves of the bridge. Giza sits to my right, flexing her once broken hand while staring out at the fires contrasting the darkness. Her eyes glazed over awhile ago, probably get ideas for her next design. Tramy slams into me hard, my grip on the wire barely holding. I let out a grunt, but it's Giza who does the chastising. "Knock it off you goofs! The water's a lot colder than it looks. You won't be so sure of yourselves when you hit that stuff. And I'm not jumping in to save you." Giza's fibbing. No doubt she would dive straight in to save either one of them. She only puts up a facade.
My brothers each murmur apologies, before silence ensues. We're all brooding over the same subject. Shade. One sibling already dead, and Giza yells at the boys before another one makes some stupid mistake and isn't fast enough to escape death. Shade wasn't fast enough to avoid that long needle that was meant for me. Though it's been nearly two years, the wound is still raw. And this is just another spoon of salt to be added. I say what they're all thinking. "He should be here."
"Yes," Giza whispers. I hear the struggle in her voice, though it's a single word. Sometimes I forget I'm not the only one who deals with loss in this family; the entire country, for that matter.
"Don't think like that." Farley's voice sounds behind me. I flip my feet over the ledge until I'm facing her instead of the water. "He may be gone in this life, but I have a strong feeling we'll see him again someday. All of us."
I must be optimistic about this, so I decide to go by Farley's beliefs. "I'm sure we will." The topic is a bitter one, and I change it. "Have you heard about the results yet?"
She shakes her head. "Soon. I just needed some air in contrast from those stuffy palace rooms. And here I am, running into you four."
"Well then, that's perfect timing. I'll come back with you to hear the conclusion." I state, hopping down from the metal railing. "You guys coming?" I ask Tramy, Bree, and Giza.
For a moment, no one responds. "In a minute, it's too beautiful of a night to be cramped up in that palace all night," Tramy answers. Bree and Giza agree.
We take off on the long drive, and for a long while, quiet stalks us. Only the shrewd clomp of our shoes hitting the pavement, the only force warding off complete silence. It now seems inappropriate to bring up any subject, when Farley could only have her mind on one affair.
"How often do you think about him?" she queries.
My feet continue to move, yet all else stops. It takes me a few blinks to put together my answer. Everyday. Many times a day. Before I go to bed, and when I wake. All of those answers could be reasonable replies. Instead, "Enough for it to still sting when his name is said."
Farley's eyelids blink briskly, her efforts futile to the outcome. Tears still drip down off her lashes onto her cheeks. Quickly than they came, the streaks are wiped away via Farley's hand.
"Don't cry. You said it yourself we'll see him again."
Something inside of her breaks. "Someday isn't soon enough, Mare. What you've felt with Cal is nothing of the caliber I feel with the loss of Shade. Cal may have betrayed you, but at least deep down there was always a part of you- no matter how silly- that knew he could come back. Shade is dead. And he will never come back, no matter how much I want him to, or even how much he might want to. Hell, he probably found some nice dead girl already."
"If you think he could ever do that to you, you're the one who's silly. He would never! You're not thinking straight, election and all." I retort, defending Shade's honor.
She shakes her head back and forth, trying to jumble her thoughts back into place. "You're right. The stress of everything these last few months. I almost feel bad for previous monarchs in keeping their citizens in line. But the real reason I took this stroll wasn't that of the stuffy air. Cal took it upon himself to announce that there was to be a couple's dance in five minutes. I froze up and left. I couldn't possibly watch all of them, smiling and twirling."
My brow wrinkles in confusion. "He announced a couple's dance while I wasn't there?"
Farley lets out a chortle. "If you think he has a secret lover, you're mistaken. He thought you were there, ready to dance with him. Maybe I should've stayed just to see the embarrassment in his eyes when he would be forced to dance with some old lady."
My laugh follows hers. "I'm glad his humiliation makes you feel better."
When we slip into the ballroom, it looks nothing like it used to; just like Caesar's Square. Individuals mill throughout the area, only a few dancing, and those who are look extremely intoxicated. Red, black, and silver flags no longer hang on walls in the massive space, instead replaced with a new design of both silver and red. An orchestra plays in an edge of the grand room, barely noticeable in all the chattering conversation. Down the same staircase I used at the masquerade, and into the storm of people. I hunt for a head of black hair, to find Cal. To promise him a dance to make up for the one I missed and to harass him for starting a couples dance while I was missing.
I find Evangeline first. She grabs me by the shirt collar and drags me off to the corner where the band plays. I slap her hand away. "What do you want?"
She speaks calmly, different from the way she dragged me over here. "I'm sure you know my father is on the waiting list to be judged before this new council of yours-"
I cut her off. "First of all, it's not my council. It's Norta's. Not mine. Now if you expect me to influence the jury to let your father go free-"
"Absolutely not. Precisely the opposite." Her expression softens. "I yearn for the man to rot. Death is too good for him." Evangeline's face hardens once again, immediately bloodthirsty. "It was his idea for me to become betrothed to Cal. Not mine, I assure you. So I beg of you, Barrow. Deliver him a fate worse than death." And just like that, she's gone.
To no one in particular, I say, "I will."
Soon afterward, Cal finds me standing in the same corner, churning Evangeline's words over in my head.
"Are you okay Mare?" His words snap me back to reality, my eyes coming back up to meet his.
I offer him an unconvincing smile. "Yes. Everything's fine."
Cal quirks an eyebrow and crosses his arms. Silently he tells me we're not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on.
"Fine. Evangeline just begged me to influence to the council to sentence Volo to life imprisonment."
"Huh. I know the man's cruel, but the fact that his daughter wishes to see his suffering really says something about him."
"What should I do?"
"Let the council choose. I'm sure they'll make the best decision based on circumstance."
"Yes. I suppose so." I can't help but let out a chuckle. "You seriously announced a couple's dance without knowing if I was there or not?"
Heat rises to Cal's neck, turning it white. "Well, I assumed..." he trails off. "It doesn't matter. I halted the dance as soon as I discovered your shocking betrayal."
"If your definition of shocking betrayal is of me sitting on a bridge with my siblings, then congratulations."
"Well, it doesn't matter. We can dance now." Cal grins and motions towards the orchestra, who begins to play.
They begin to play a tune I recognize very well; the song that played when Cal and I first kissed. He leads me to the center of the floor, and we begin swaying to the beat. "You better be ready to sustain some foot injuries." I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks already, and we haven't even begun the dance.
"I wore my special shoes. Just for you." Cal's crooked grin spreads out.
I still remember the night we kissed, as clear as day like it was yesterday. I thought of him as a cliff and I threw myself over the edge. One day he'd realize I was his enemy, but it seems now that that day would never arrive.
We press close together, my head on his shoulder. From my vantage point, I see all the other gleeful dancers, spinning one another around. We rotate in a much slower circle, and in that process, a particular hallway catches my attention. Down that hallway, up two flights of stairs, and two the left lies the chambers I was once imprisoned in. Though I no longer shutter thinking about them; here with Cal, and all of my friends and family, I'm safe.
Though I've said it a thousand times, I say it again. "I love you," I tell him.
"I love you," he repeats and tightens his grip on me as though I'm about to be snatched away from him. Once we had to worry about that, but no longer I do. No more constantly glancing over my shoulder, waiting for a knife to stab me in the back. Physically and metaphorically. No more notes clutched in the hands of dead children. And no more fighting.
A microphone is tapped at from somewhere, and Cal and I break apart. Though not by much. Ella approaches the center of the ballroom, beaming. A microphone in one hand, and a folded piece of cream paper in the other. "Hello, ladies and gentlemen of Norta! Today you all voted to elect a new leader for our nation and council members! Here in my hand, I hold the results." Time slows as she unfolds the parchment, and her eyes scan over the lettering. "I am pleased to announce Diana Farley has won the election for Nortan leader!"
The rest of the names Ella reads off filter through one ear and out the other. My eyes race to find Farley, and when they do, my legs carry me all the way to her. We embrace, and though Farley isn't usually a sentimental person, she melts into the hug after a few stiff seconds.
I look around the ballroom. My brothers and sister and my parents and Kilorn all stand by each other, beaming at me. Ella and the other electricons stand scattered throughout the area, all socializing with other newbloods. And Cal stands right by my side, smiling more than anyone else besides for me in the entire room. I understand now, that it doesn't matter where home is. It's with who. And right here, with everyone I care about, this is home. And I am finally free to go home.
I want to say that it's been an honor to write for all of my fellow RQ fans. You guys have been so supportive throughout this journey, and it always makes my day when I see your stars and comments. Thank you for inspiring me.