"Why doth thou linger where I can not hold thee, husband?" Rennala kept her voice soft, so as not to startle Radagon.
Glowing eyes of purest gold held her own, his face shadowed against the night sky. "I am afraid, Wife."
She rose to a seat, their sheets pooling in her lap. He was the champion of the golden order, second in might only to Lord Godfrey; what could ever cause him fear? "Thou? Afraid?"
He leaned heavily on their broad window sill, silvered moonlight flowing down the pale skin of his bare back. Why would he not look at her fully? "Were thou to ask it of me, I would leave mine golden order."
Rennala rose, padding to his side. She ran a hand gently down his lovely red hair, she had never understood how he could hate it so. "And why dost this bring thee fear, Radagon?" She murmured.
He whirled, faced pained. "Thou dost not comprehendst, I am- That can not happen! I am the golden order, I-" He caught himself with a grimace of shame. She laid her hands against his smooth cheeks, he must have given this much thought. Rennala knew his devotion to his order and…Marika was deeply important to him. She had hoped that their official union would allay such quandaries of the soul, perhaps he yet needed more time to reconcile moon and tree.
Radagon was never one to speak overmuch. It was just as well, Rennala could usually divine his heart with ease. "To bed, mine consort, these troubles wilt be lessened in my embrace. Ponder such heavy matters in the sun."
He closed his eyes against her palms, smiling in the way that always made her heart flutter. "To love thee is a gift most divine, Rennala." His eyes searched hers, imploring understanding that she was only to happy to give. "To be loved by thee is a dream I hope to never wake from." Rennala smiled widely, floating them both back abed.
"Then let us dream forever, Radagon." She whispered to his brow as she elveloped him in her arms. It must have been tears of joy she felt against the skin of her chest, why else would her husband cry so?
She awoke to empty arms and aching heart; the loud slam of her chamber doors flooding her rooms with torch light. Rennala sprung up in her bed, clearing the dream from her eyes that she might see the intruder. That shining silver, Rellana? No, her little sister was lost to her, just like so many others.
Moongrum's harried face came into focus as he rushed to her bedside. Where was his helm? Was that blood? "My queen! The manor is assailed! Quickly, I must see you to safety!" Her handmaidens ran in from their conjoined quarters, rubbing the sleep from their tired faces. Her hound, Relios, leapt through the open doorway as well. The queen frowned, she was sure her night terrors kept them all from resting restfully most nights; it was unfortunate they could not even sleep peacefully after such celebration.
Rennala hurriedly began floating her robes and scepter to her side, that her attendants could adorn her. As her head peeked through her neckline, she questioned Moongrum. "What of mine daughter, Moongrum?" She absentmindedly stroked Relios' ears. Her beloved hound had never abandoned her, he was loyal beyond doubt. The queen bit down on her lip harshly, this was no time to slip into melancholy.
"I sent Linde to her mere minutes ago. She-" Her knight was interpreted by the far off bellows of Ranni's consort. It seemed Owain was awake, and very angry. His rage comforted Rennala, it meant Ranni was yet safe. Her handmaidens, however, winced in unison at the horrific screams that shuddered through the cavernous manorways.
"Safety." She said dully. Rennala had been safe in the academy, in the library; safe to lose a small bit of her mind every night, safe to crack and crumble and slip until naught was left of her but a raving wretch. No, she would not go gently once more into a gilded cage. "With me Moongrum, rally whatever sorcerers are yet here as well. I wilt go out to meet those who dare trespasseth upon mine home." She leapt atop Relios, grinning at his excited howls. It had been quite some time since she had seen battle; it was high time that she remind the realm that the Queen of Caria was not to be trifled with.
So very many rats scurried in about her house, it brought clarifying fury to her mind. There was no time to loon, to murmur to the egg, no; it was time for death to her foes and victory taken. Moongrum followed, Tanya as well. A growing retinue of sorcerers blast through the endless enemies. These tarnished were relentless, and bolstered by a small army of footsoldiers.
She and her aids had cleared her side of the manor, converging with a score of Owain's sentinels, leaving frightened guests and many dead intruders in their wake. With each spell she cast, each battle won, something yet shifted in her chest. Rennala felt alive, her blood sang, her pulse raced. She was at last clear of the damnable haze, ruthless, and powerful, and herself again!
It was not until they broke through into the main courtyard where the feast had been held that she beheld the full pandemonium of the invasion lit faintly by the new moon and scattered torches. Morgott and most of the remainder of the sentinels were contending with a constant stream of tarnished. Rennala sighed as she loosed yet more glintstone death, where was Owain? A body flew past her to erupt into gore and golden dust against the castle walls. Ah, there was her errant son of gold.
Though, perhaps red would have been a better descriptor, the man was so awash in blood she could hardly see his skin. Where were his clothes? Brazen fool, always rushing into danger! Only the eerie glow of his eyes and the shining gleam of a halberd shone clear in the murk. "Wain!' She called. "Where is Ranni?"
The sentinel swung a tarnished about by the neck as a makeshift club, it reminded her faintly of their first meeting. He committed a comical double take at seeing her astride Relios. "With Oswald and Linde, Mother! She follows behind!" Good, Ranni would be safe with those two, Rennala focused instead on the task at hand. The numbers of mortal men were much thinned, but the tarnished still boasted a great force.
How to rout these deathless fiends? Owain was the only tarnished within Caria at the moment, Ladies Fia and Fortissax were conducting their own research at Stormveil. Her eyes lingered on the commander as she sent a tarnished back to their grace for what seemed like the tenth time. He was mighty, but he was awash in a sea of foes, and one man could only kill so many at a time. Even if every swing of the halberd sent several tarnished to their deaths.
A golden spear, a replica of Owain's own, flew into the chaotic mass of enemies before her. "Capture them! Restrain them!" Morgott shouted out to the sentinels around him. Yes! He had the right of it! Rennala could kill all these gathered pests with a wave of the hand, but it mattered not if they would only crawl right back in again.
"Do not releaseth them free to death! Subdue them, my carians!" She called, smiling darkly when the many tarnished began to try and flee. Ranni finally made her appearance, yet more sorcerers at her back. They trapped those that sought escape in a masterful gravitational spell. Her daughter did her elder brother proud with such a show.
With almost all of the mortal men dead, and a goodly portion of the tarnished by Owain's hand slain; it was only a matter of time before her greater numbers prevailed.
Rennala came to stand before her children, who were in the midst of an argument; how typical. She rolled her eyes. "-am fine, Ranni. Let those who can heal tend to our people first."
Ranni huffed in frustration before gesturing to one of many ghastly cuts in the man's side that Rennala had only just seen under all the other viscera stuck to his skin. She could see clean through to the boy's ribs! "Thou'rt bleedin' out afore mine eyes, oaf!" Ranni turned to a nearby cluster of sentinels. "Any among thee who hast healin' spells, mend my husband!"
Owain threw up his hands in defeat before Rennala could voice her agreeance with her daughter. "Do as she wills, to me Dectus, but make it swift. There are too many others that ne-" His hands flew to his head as he cried out in surprised pain. Ranni and Rennala both tried to catch him as he fell, but they had not the strength. Owain bowled over both Carians with his unwieldy mass. Despite almost two score sentinels making a mad dash to their side, none were close enough to stop all three from falling to the hard stone of the court yard.
"You are both ready to stand on your own, my noble charges. I am most proud of your hard work." Owain brought the twins into an embrace, they were away from other's eyes; he could drop at least a little of his decorum here.
Lady Malenia stood almost to his chin now, but Lord Miquella had to float up to meet his shoulders. As he released them, he noticed their matched looks of nervousness. "Wain…" Melania began, "We know you have refused our offer before, but would you not reconsider?"
Owain smiled softly, his heart ached that he must refuse these precious children something they yearned for so earnestly. "I am needed in the capital, my lady. Especially with your lord brother Messmer being abroad on diplomatic overtures to the south. Your queen mother needs protecting."
"Mother is strong enough! Uncle Malekith is there too! What threat could you face that he could not? Let Oswald take your place, bring Ranni here. This would be a beauteous place to idle in retirement, would it not?" Melania took his hand beseechingly.
Ranni would not like it here, it was too far from her mother. She tolerated her younger siblings, but he knew it was more for his sake than theirs. Owain frowned, eyes shifting outside to the new erd tree that already sprouted tall from the freshly blessed ground. He'd trained their cleanrot knights himself, all the many hundreds of them. They had more flock to their banner of benevolence every day, and tens of thousands of his sentinels would remain here until their defenses were properly built. They did not need Owain to stifle their growth, and he truly was needed back in the capital; the queen's correspondences were beginning to worry him.
Miquella took his other hand with a gentle squeeze. Were his prince's eyes always that blindingly sincere? "Please, Owain. We need you more than you know!" Owain regarded his lord curiously, he…he should stay with them, should he not?
He almost acquiesced before he was reminded of his oaths. He could not forsake Leyndell, the queen was ever his first priority. Ranni had his heart and soul, but Queen Marika had his oathbound service. He shook his head to clear this sudden daze. "I am sworn to protect the eternal queen, my lord. I could never forsake my vows."
"Take up new vows, Wain. To us, to I, Miquella. We grow a new tree, but yet still need our protector of eld." The pressure was there again, an almost…magical urge to abandon all his past pledges and start anew here.
Magical? He- Miquella was attempting to charm him? Owain had forbidden that kind of conduct when the boy's power had first manifested in his childhood! Owain stamped a foot, startling both royals into releasing his hands and leaving webbing cracks across the newly placed stone floor. "Miquella!" He bellowed, as the man retreated backwards.
"O-owain?" Miquella called softly from behind his sister's waist, who watched Owain in something akin to reluctance.
Owain's heart was greatly wounded from this, sorrow at this subversion easily overtaking rage. "Have I ever given you cause to doubt my love for you both? To think you would try to force my service. My heart breaks."
"No! We just-"
Owain scowled in truth, the twins cringing deeply. It had been many years since he'd last had to scold any of their behaviors. Alas, he could not allow such an attempt as this, go unmentioned. "I forbade such magic for good reason, my prince. To steal a person's own will is to force their servitude, and I'll not have you known as one who subjugates. That is not what I taught you, child."
For a moment, it seemed the prince might argue, rebellion sparking softly in his face; but the moment passed. Prince Miquella bowed his head, his sister following his example. Owain noted her trembling lip, he wondered if she had suspected they would fail in this ploy and followed along anyway. "I am very sorry, Owain. It…it shall not happen again."
He heaved a sigh, he could never hold any anger at the twins, charm or no. "I will still visit often, my lord, my lady. Do not fear my absence overmuch." He ruffled both their hair. "Now come, let not this talk spoil my final night here. We've a feast to attend."
The royals followed at his shoulder, but were still subdued. Owain worried he may have been too harsh. No, such magic was potent and must be handled with care. He only wished the prince was wiser in the future, ere his schemes caused true turmoil. Owain would heal from the sting of this slight in time, but great damage could be done if the prince went unchecked.
As Owain brushed the surface of wakefulness, he heard a voice he did not recognize. It was soft, murmuring; that of a small child calling out in their sleep. "Make Miquella stop. Godhood would be his prison."
He flung himself up from his back with a shout. Who was that? Where was he? His eyes took in the details of the room with dull slowness. Stone walls, downy beds; the infirmary.
Ranni came running around the main archway moments after he'd wicked the cold sweat from his brow. "Wain!" She called excitedly, as she hopped atop his bed and into his arms. "A good morn to thee, slumberous one." She seemed overwrought, though was attempting to disguise it. The skin under her eyes was darkened; as if she had gone many nights without proper rest. Just how long had he slept this time? He must not have responded with enough fervor to her frantic kisses, for she pulled back with a frown. "Art thou still ailing, my dear? Shall I call for Tricia?"
He rested his hands atop her hips, still distracted. "No, no." He muttered. "Strange were my dreams, is all."
She kissed his brow. "Good, for I have a few more surprises for thee, mine Sunbeam." Ranni's gaze glowed in almost manic delight as she regarded him with a bright smile. "Could thou handlest visitors?"
He shook out the stiffness of his shoulders, clearing his throat. He would need to think upon these portends, they would speak of it later; he was loath to spoil her mood. "Yes, beloved, of course." He smiled, knowing she saw through him.
Her eyes warned him they would indeed speak later before she called to the door, that her 'guests' might enter. Owain did not know whom to expect, but his heart nigh stopped beating out of surprise when both Princess Melina and King Morgott entered. Morgott's hand ushered in his little sister gently, almost as if he could actually touch her.