by Jana LaPelle
“Okay, then, let’s do this. I know that we need to get back and I don’t want to end our time away on a bad note. So, I say we shift and go back the way we came. What about tidying up?”
“Leave it. I’ll take care of it while you’re getting ready. I will probably be done here before you are even dressed.” He teases but I fear he may be right.
Chapter 9
(Ashlinn)
I miss Lexie and Jasmine. I have a whole team helping me get ready for the evening to come, but their presence is sorely missed. My mother is here along with Claire, and Morgwais is sharing her time between Lexie and me. Morgwais is only allowing Lexie to come to the coronation and even then she is under strict orders to sit and then it’s back to bed for her. After seeing her discomfort this morning, I’m not surprised.
Tomorrow, we head home, back to The Mortal Realm. We only need to be gone from here a couple of days to give Lexie time to deliver her child. Alaric and I can pop back and forth if needed but Lexie needs this as much as me and the twins. They will be another month older if we stay in The Mortal Realm for a full month with only a couple of days passing here. How that works is still mind-boggling. Instinct is telling me that we have a little bit of time before The Morrígan puts her plan in play. Shoot an entire year could pass in The Mortal Realm if we just stay away for just under a month in Otherworld time, but that’s not going to happen.
“Ashlinn Ryllae, you are a million miles away. What do you think?” My mother’s tone is teasing, yet stern, snapping my attention to the present.
If she only knew I was trying to calculate the time difference between realms without counting on my fingers, she would give me some slack, I suppress a laugh before responding, “Sorry, Mother, I was just thinking about tomorrow and going back to my childhood home in The Mortal Realm. I would really like for you to see where we grew up. You haven’t said if you and Father are going to come with us or not.”
A shadow of doubt crosses her face for a split second, “We can discuss that a little later this evening, right now, I need you to take a look at yourself and let us know what you think.”
I walk over to the overlarge floor length mirror in the room, my skirts rustling and trailing behind me. The gown is larger than life. The skirt billows out from my hips and seems to take up half the room. The train trails behind me, and I can’t help but think that it is way over the top. To say the gown is beautiful is an understatement, the bodice is cinched tightly making my waist look impossibly small, my breasts are spilling out of the top of the bodice which brings on a flush of epic proportions. My focus shifts to my hair which has been intricately woven in a delicate pattern and piled high on my head with loose tendrils framing my face. The heavy weight of it is a bit unnatural but the column of my neck is on full display, and I like the look of it. I never wear my hair up like this. There is so much of it that I never know what to do with it. The gown is a cream colored silk with golden appliques, the bodice is a halter style and heavily beaded with golden colored beads in intricate patterns. As I admire my reflection, my mother places my circlet with the amber stone on my head. As always, my pendant is nestled between my breast, and I have my matching earrings on. I hardly recognize myself, and I catch myself saying, “Wow.”
“It’s time, we mustn’t keep everyone waiting.” My mother begins ushering me toward the door.
Turning to Claire, I say, “You have such talent, if you were a designer in The Mortal Realm people would be clamoring to have you design gowns for them and paying handsomely for your work. Thank you, Claire, you have outdone yourself.”
Claire inclines her head, “My Lady, it is I that is honored to be your designer. I wanted you to shine tonight. You said that this would be the only coronation to recognize you as the queen of your realm and you should look like a queen to rival all queens. You, my Lady, are the Mother Keeper of Souls and the gown is befitting of your station.
Before I can respond, Alaric enters the chamber. “Ash, you look… you’re breathtaking.”
All my concerns and everyone around us fall away, “Really?”
“I could never lie to you, mo grá.”
Smiling, because for me, his opinion is the only one that really matters, I say, “Let’s go get the Coronation Crown, the Stone of Fál. It’s almost time. You, don’t think this gown is over the top?”
“Άlainn, there are no words. Tonight everyone will be stunned by your presence. Come on Ash, we need to get a move on it.” Placing my hand in Alaric’s we trace to The Twilight Realm and appear just outside of The Soul Reliquary. Sasha and Nayrhu drop to a curtsey as we appear.
“Okay, ladies how many times do I have to tell you, that’s not necessary, please stand. Sasha, is Jasmine here?”
“Yes, my lady, she’s inside.”
“Come with me.” As we enter, I sense Jasmine and several others. “Jasmine, come here,” I call out, my voice echoing as we make our way to the round chamber that once held the Sword of Light, now, on the pedestal in the center of the room, the Coronation Crown resides, also known as the Stone of Fál. It hovers above the pedestal.
“Wow… that is some gown you’re sporting tonight.” Jasmine quips from the entrance of the chamber.
“Jasmine, are you ready for tonight? You know this is not going down if you’re not present.” I say without turning.
“You are stunning, My Lady.” My dear friend says in reverence.
“Jaz, stop, it’s just us. Why are we back to all this, my lady crap.”
Her tinkling laughter echoes around the chamber as Alaric reaches for the crown. About that time I hear Camoryn entering from the hallway, his hooves clomping at a steady pace, “Ash, chill. I’m just teasing, but really, just for tonight, I should show more respect of your station.”
Turning, I see my friend. Jasmine is more than beautiful, she is dazzling. Camoryn comes up behind her and spins her in his arms, his adoration evident on his face. She is a picture of pure courtesan beauty. Laughing, I say, “Whatever. We have to get a move on, everyone is waiting on us.”
We trace back to the Keep, Alaric has the Coronation Crown, and we find that The Dagda and my mother, Danu are both waiting for us. Alaric hands the crown over to Dagda, who is seeing it for the very first time. He studies the crown with the angel fire quartz stones, when Alaric asks, “Do you feel it?”
Curious, I ask, “Feel what?”
“From the first moment that I laid my hands on it, it seems to thrum with power. Nemus who has also handled the crown does not feel what I feel when holding it.”
Dagda continues to study the crown before saying, “Yes, son, I do. Come now, everyone has taken their places at the top of the west turret. It’s a beautiful night for a joyous celebration.”
I hesitate, looking around when my mother chimes in, “Millie and Maith are fussing over Lachlan and your father has Lillie. Tarron is in his place so let’s announce to the people who you are and crown the both of you and then Tarron.”
Suddenly, anxious, I want nothing more than to get through this evening and put it behind us. Alaric senses my unease and says, “I sense it too, we are all armed with our dress daggers and swords. If anything happens, we will be prepared.”
“I’m not wearing my dress daggers,” I state the obvious.
“Because you don’t need them, the fire and wind elements, remember?” He smiles down at me, and I take him in. He is so handsome in his sleeveless, long tailored waistcoat, it’s in a dark chocolate brown with subtle hints of gold thread that lends a shimmer to the fabric in the right light, and it is paired with matching trousers and dress boots. His dress shirt is cream in color and is collarless and buttoned to the throat. That’s a pity. I always enjoy admiring his chest.
Before I know it, we are ready to make our entrance. Dagda and Danu are standing in front of the not so small crowd that has gathered on the rooftop. The sun is making its downward trek and will bid us adieu very shortly, making way for the moon in all her glory. It’s
my favorite time of day. My arm is wrapped in Alaric’s, and he places his left hand over my own and gently squeezes as Dagda begins.
“Friends, family, people of Faerie, welcome!” His voice booms, “Tonight is a joyous occasion! Tonight… We rejoice in the fact that what was once lost has been found, the Stone of Fál has been recovered and it is no longer a lost relic. We have learned that centuries ago the Druids transformed the stone into this Coronation Crown and it has been hidden away all this time. Tonight… The Stone of Fál will sing once more for our rightful kings and queens!” The applause is deafening, and from where we stand in the darkened entryway, I can hear that there is a large crowd below us in the courtyard as well as on the rooftop. It has been transformed into a beautiful pavilion open to the sky above with the setting sun as the backdrop, the fiery ball in the heavens is accompanied by blues, violets, pinks, and an orangey red to paint an exquisite picture. Dagda pauses to allow the crowd to quiet, “How, may you ask, is it possible that the Stone of Fál has been recovered? That, in part, is due to an elite group who has made it their mission to keep Faerie safe from those who would do it harm. This elite group is called The Guardians of Life, the Caomhnóirí na Beatha along with the Keeper of Souls, the Coimeádaithe na Anamacha and they have sworn their allegiance to a lost daughter of Faerie. To one wee young lass, that was raised in The Mortal Realm until her awakening, so that she and her kindred could ascend to their rightful place as decreed by our Creator. It is with great pleasure that I present Ashlinn Ryllae Faerondarl, daughter of Danu and Rhespen Eroan Pan-tarr, high princess of Faerie, Goddess of Life, Mother Keeper of Souls, rightful Queen of her Realm, the Taisclainne Anam. Along with her kindred, a son of the Otherworld, Alaric Rhys Faerondarl, son of Airmed and Άemarick Faerondarl, prince of the Northern Territories of Faerie, God of Life, Father Guardian, and rightful King of Taisclainne Anam.”
Alaric squeezes my hand, and we both step forward from the shadows as the crowd on the terrace erupts in applause and turns to watch as we walk down the aisle toward Dagda and Danu. I look up at my mate, and he smiles and winks at me, his dimples popping, as we continue down the aisle toward the High King and Queen of Faerie, The Otherworldly god, and goddess. Once we’re standing before them, we kneel, I look toward Alaric once again, and he smiles helping to take the edge off of my nerves as we both bow our heads before our King and Queen. Dagda hands over the Coronation Stone, the Stone of Fál and I hear a gasp escape my mother before she regains her composure and steps toward us.
My head still bowed as my mother addresses the audience. Someone steps forward to remove my circlet. “Ashlinn Ryllae Faerondarl, when the Stone of Fál sings for you this night you will be crowned Queen of your realm the Taisclainne Anam.” As she places the crown on my head the power and majic of the Coronation Crown wash over me, and a beautiful melody erupts, resonating within me and all around. I’m so caught up in the moment that it takes me a few seconds to realize that I’m holding my breath while the crowd begins to clap. Danu removes the Coronation Crown and hands it to Dagda who in turn relinquishes the crown to Airmed who smiles at us both as we kneel before the fair folk gathered here this night.
Alaric Rhys Faerondarl, my son, when the Stone of Fál sings for you this night, you will be crowned King of your own realm, the Taisclainne Anam, where you and your kindred will rule together,” she places the crown upon his head, and a symphony of beautiful notes erupts, and I smile up at my handsome Elf-Man as the Coronation Crown is removed from his head and The Dagda and Danu stand before us with our newly designed crowns. The two are a feminine and masculine version of one another. White gold encasing amber and diamonds, a simple but stunning design and then the crowns are placed upon our heads, and we stand together while everyone claps.
Dagda announces, “It is my great pleasure to present to you the queen and king of Taisclainne Anam. Our souls are literally in their hands.”
Smiling, Alaric and I turn to greet the crowd that is assembled on the rooftop of the turret, Alaric to my right. Our parents come to stand on either side. Airmed has Lachlan in her arms, and he looks unsettled by all the noise, his little face is turning red, and I can tell that he is about to let it rip, this is his extremely unhappy face. My mother-in-law smiles as she hands me my son and kisses my cheek. My father has Lillie, who is taking the ceremony in stride, and he hands her over to Alaric. My kindred takes my right hand, and we step forward, and the audience becomes quiet.
Alaric looks out around the gathering and says, “Thank you all for such a warm welcome and your acceptance. We are truly humbled by your reception. Tonight we officially take our place in The Realms as the Keeper and Guardian of Life. We are very pleased to present the next in our line, our children, Lillie Joanna and Lachlan Jayce.” As he concludes, we, in turn, hold the twins up for all to see. Lachlan squirms in my hands before a wail of ginormous proportions erupts from his little mouth. Lillie, on the other hand, seems serene as she quietly looks out over the congregation. The crowd begins to laugh at Lachlan’s outburst, and I quickly pull my son back into my arms and rock him gently, talking to him to soothe his unease, and he quiets as he gazes up at me. I give him a little tickle under his chin, and he smiles.
Now it’s my turn. Stepping forward, cradling Lachlan in my arms, I nervously address the crowd, “Thank you all so very much for your warm welcome. We are truly blessed to have your support, but tonight is not really about us. Tonight is a truly momentous occasion. You see, some time ago, I had a vision, a vision that will change how the fair people of Faerie will view the light and dark factions within The Realms. Tonight we will unofficially crown one male who will rule the dark fae within The Realms. This male will rule over the Fomorians and dark fae alike. From this night forward the dark fae and Fomorians will be known as The Horde, and The Horde must have a king. Tonight, it is my great pleasure, to introduce to you, my dear friend, Tarron Airlon Rí, son of Bres Rí and princess Sarya, he is a prince of the Southern Territories. Tarron is destined to be crowned, The Horde King, the rightful king of the dark fae.” Tarron steps forward from the shadows, in all his handsome glory with a twinkle in his eye. He is accompanied by a stunning, but shy woman on his arm, he pats her hand reassuringly, and she glances up and smiles hesitantly at him. From the resemblance between them, I quickly realize that I’m watching mother and son as they make their way forward.
A huge smile graces my face, and I look up at Alaric, and he nods with a smile of his own. Through our bond, he confirms, “That is Tarron’s mother, princess Sarya. I haven’t seen her in many years.”
As the two come to stand before us, I say, “Princess Sarya, I am so pleased to finally meet you. Thank you for joining us here this evening.”
“It is my pleasure to be here, thank you for what you are about to do for my Tarron. I will be forever in your debt, your majesty.”
“Please, call me Ashlinn. It is my hope that we will become great friends.” Turning my attention to Tarron, I smile as I add a little more loudly, “On your knees, Tarron Airlon Rí, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to say that.” Our audience laughs, and I smile as I look down at my sleeping child in my arms before gently handing him over to Tarron, demonstrating to all present that I trust this male with my most precious possession, my child. Dagda steps forward with the Stone of Fál and places the crown in my hands. It hums, and the energy I feel emanating from it is a bit overwhelming, I look up questioningly at Dagda, and he smiles and nods confirming my unasked question. Turning back to Tarron with Alaric by my side, I say for all to hear, “Tarron, prince of the Southern Territories, you are a worthy male, you will be crowned The Horde King once the Stone of Fál sings for you.” I step forward and place the thrumming crown of angel fire quartz upon his head. The melody that issues forth is different, a bit darker, but it sings none the less, and the throng before me applauds enthusiastically.
Dagda steps forward and hands me a crown that is dark and twisted with several large luminous stones,
clearly befitting of the dark lord of the dark fae. I turn to Tarron, “It is done. The Stone of Fál has spoken. I crown you The Horde King. The Horde is now under your dominion. Soon all of Faerie will accept your station.”
Tarron takes a deep breath, and with a look of determination he stands and leans in to kiss me gently on the cheek, before whispering, “Thank you mo solas. I would have been lost without you.”
“Nonsense. Now, turn and face those of Faerie who know the truth. You are a rightful king in this realm, and no one can take that from you. All in attendance here this night knows the truth, and soon the news will spread across the realm.” Nodding he turns to the masses and those of The Horde that are in attendance kneel to their king.
As I step back and take in all that I hold precious on the rooftop, I feel a prickling sensation, and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Before I can even acknowledge my fears, I hear them before they arrive, the thunderous sound of flapping wings. Everyone in attendance looks up to see that there is a multitude of ravens that are converging upon us, like a tiny tornado, swirling in the center of the rooftop before morphing together as a single figure appears. Her hair, black as midnight, billowing in the wind and the smoky tendrils of her very existence swirls around her, her wicked laughter rings out over the rooftop in the fast diminishing light of day. Her arrival has spawned numerous dark clouds, and I move closer to Alaric and Tarron who each carry a tiny innocent soul I hold dear to my heart. My panther is clawing my internal barriers wanting to be freed to protect our young, but I resist the urge to shift. Instinct has me calling forth the fire element, and flames erupt from my fingertips and dance across my forearms as I await the phantom queen’s pronouncement. Her disturbing laughter dies down as her form becomes solid. Her shrewd violet-eyed gaze oscillates from left to right, taking in the crowd on the rooftop. I honestly hate to admit that she is striking. Her head is adorned with a simple silver and black onyx circlet that looks more like head jewelry than a crown with black teardrop jewels and an intricate pattern of chains. Her face is dramatically painted in black, silver, and purple highlighting her eyes. Her sensual black gown hugs her slender form and appears to be made of black feathers and plunges dangerously low, almost to her navel.
