The Legend of Oescienne--The Reckoning (Book Five)

by Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

  “Say my name, Jahrra,” the prince of the Tanaan, the eighth son of the king from so long ago, whispered harshly, his arms wrapping around her waist to pull her closer. “Say the name you know me by, not the one my forebears granted me.”

  Jahrra could not speak. She could not think. Gods and goddesses of Ethoes. She had seen him fall, his wings shattered, unable to save him from perishing upon the rugged coast thousands of feet below the Crimson King’s castle. She had mourned him, torn her heart and soul asunder missing him. A dragon. Her dragon.

  “Please,” he whispered, lips trailing up her cheek, kissing away her tears. “Please, tell me you know me.”

  Hearing his voice almost tore her heart once again. She knew, her heart, her body, her soul knew, even if her mind had difficulty catching up with the rest of her. And finally, finally, Jahrra drew in a shuddering breath and spoke the name swirling around in her mind.

  “Jaax.”

  -Chapter Thirty-Six-

  Answers at Last

  The name was an invitation, a plea of her own. And, he did not hesitate to answer her. Before any more words could be exchanged, the man who had been trapped in dragon form for five centuries, tilted his head, his lips brushing the scar beside her eye. He kissed her there as if the mark were something to treasure, not a terrible reminder of the war she had fought. A mark of her strength and perseverance. From that small blemish, his lips traveled upward to her brow, her eyelids, one at a time, then finally, those lips traced the bridge of her nose until they met her own. The kiss sent dragon fire skittering along Jahrra’s bones, burning away that bitter, sorrowful darkness that had haunted her for weeks.

  Aeron, Jaax, pulled away only long enough to catch his breath, but he did not let her go. Jahrra’s head was spinning, her heart hammering. If not for his hold on her, she might have crumpled to the ground.

  With his forehead pressed to hers, he vowed in a low voice, “I will defend you. I will fight for you.” His silver-green eyes met her blue-gray ones. “And, I will love you, until my very last breath.”

  And then, he was kissing her again, this time not so gently, his strong fingers slipping into her hair. Jahrra’s stomach turned over, a basket of unruly butterflies set free. She kissed him back just as fiercely, not wanting the moment to end. Not wanting to awaken from this dream. For she knew she would, because this couldn’t be real. How cruel of Ethoes to do this to her, but she would not waste this time she had. If this was the only time.

  Eventually, Jaax tore his mouth free of hers, drawing in long, deep breaths. Still kneeling, he pulled her tight against his chest, his lips pressed to the top of her head.

  “I thought I would never see you again,” he rasped, throat tight with emotion. “As I fell, I asked Ethoes for one last gift, to grant you a happy life. But, when I saw you outside the Castle Ruin …”

  He cursed and set Jahrra at arm’s length. Tears pooled in his eyes, then spilled free. He did not brush them aside. He did not turn away in shame.

  “I could feel how miserable you were, Jahrra.”

  Blinking away the euphoria that had clouded her mind, Jahrra sighed, then used Jaax’s shoulder to rise to her feet. She wobbled a little, but after a few steps she was steady again. She needed space to breathe, to think clearly.

  “Why didn’t you tell me,” she rasped, casting him a glance over her shoulder. He still knelt upon the ground, but her words had him rising to his feet as well. “Why let me go around the castle, angry and depressed and avoiding you at every turn?”

  Now that the intense joy had faded a bit, rational thought was returning swiftly. Jahrra furrowed her brow. “Why wait so long to tell me the truth?”

  Jaax drew in a deep breath and let it out, hands on his hips, head slightly bowed. When he lifted his eyes to hers, the expression on his face was so reminiscent of the Jaax she’d known as a dragon, she was ready to kick herself for being so blind. How had she not seen it before now?

  Finally, he said, “I didn’t think you’d believe me if I told you then.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, then shut it. He was right. If he had told her that morning he restored the castle who he really was, she would have marched away in anger, much as she had done, only she might have never come to live in the castle. She wouldn’t have given him a chance at all.

  “I had hoped you would’ve figured it out in a few days, a week, maybe. But, you refused to spend any time with me.”

  Jahrra winced at that. She had refused. But it still didn’t excuse him.

  “I had nightmares for weeks, Jaax. Do you even know how much your death, or what I believed to be your death, affected me?”

  He had the decency to look ashamed as he bowed his head, nodding morosely. “I watched you every day, Jahrra. Do you know how badly I wanted to pull you to me, to comfort you? I never could do that before, while the curse trapped me in dragon form. Whenever you were upset, or hurting, I could never ease your pain. But, I could have after returning to Oescienne, only, I believe that would have made matters worse.”

  The grin he offered was a wry one. Jahrra snorted softly. He had a point. Had the prince of Oescienne embraced her any time during the past few weeks, she would have done worse than punch him. He took a step forward, then, setting Jahrra’s heart into a quick rhythm once more. Her irritation scattered as a warmer, much more welcome emotion took hold. She couldn’t say when she had fallen in love with Jaax, but it had been long before this point.

  His voice was pitched low when he said, “I had never wanted anything so badly as to touch you, Jahrra. To brush my fingers against your face. To feel the pulse beneath your skin. To kiss you into silence when you argued with me.”

  His smile was almost wicked, and Jahrra had to fight back a shudder. She didn’t step away from him as he closed the distance between them, his fingers reaching out to gently grasp her elbows and pull her close.

  “I couldn’t tell you,” Jaax breathed, his forehead pressed to hers again, answering that other burning question, the one she had yet to voice. “You couldn’t know who I really was. If you had known, then I really would have had to hide away like a coward because I could not risk Ciarrohn peeling the truth from your mind; torturing you to harm me. And, I refused to stand by and let others fight my battles for me. I was the reason my people were cursed, and it was up to me to make sure that curse was broken. So, I allowed you to remain ignorant of the truth.”

  Jahrra said nothing. She merely remained still, listening to his breathing, relishing the warmth of his presence. This final secret he’d kept from her should’ve had her raging at him, but the mere fact he was alive, and the reasons for his actions, had her pausing to listen. When he was through with his tale, then she could make a final judgment.

  “I had learned of the prophecy early on, from Ellyesce. And yes, I knew him and Denaeh before I was transformed. When I learned there was a way to break the curse, I did everything in my power to find you. It became an obsession, and I steeled myself against you when you were found. I taught myself to feel nothing, to see you only as a means to an end. Because, Jahrra, how could I continue on if I grew to care about you? I didn’t care about myself anymore, only that I must set things right. And, as you grew older, and as I got to know you and witnessed the kind of woman you became–”

  His voice caught, his words cut abruptly short, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. He drew his forehead away from hers, and when he looked at her again, those green eyes had darkened. And for a moment, that look was enough to drive away any lingering anger she might hold against him for what he’d done, for the truth he’d withheld. It was the sort of look that might burn down the entire world just to get a chance to stand in her presence. It was the sort of look that bards and poets captured in songs and verse.

  “The centuries of hardening my heart were all for naught. You became more than just the girl who would save the world, the young woman who became my ward. You became, Jahrra, my reason for living, and for dying. Even if
it meant remaining a dragon for the rest of my days, I would have set aside the war, the final battle with Ciarrohn, if it meant you could live out your life. And, I would have been there with you, even if you hated me for letting the darkness prevail. But then, you have always been so determined, Jahrra. So full of passion and purpose. I knew your life may be forfeited when we began that journey to Lidien. I knew then I might lose you. But to lock you away in a tower, like the dragon villains of lore, even to keep you safe, would kill you more than taking a mortal wound from one of the Tyrant’s soldiers. I could not destroy your spirit, so I risked your life instead, the very life I’d fight to defend.”

  Still, Jahrra remained silent, unmoving, the cool caress of the fog a comfort of sorts keeping her mind somewhat clear.

  Jaax drew in another breath, his tale not quite finished. “And, despite all of that, despite the obstacles that lay between us, the fact that I was a dragon, and you human, the fact that we were both likely headed to our deaths, and that you hated me for so long and only ever saw me as an overbearing guardian set on controlling every aspect of your life ... Despite all that, I still fell in love with you. And, I will always love you. Whether you decide to stay and rule Oescienne with me, or leave, to start your life over again. I won’t stop you. I will not try to trick you with words of obligation, or guilt you into staying for Denaeh’s or Ellyesce’s sakes. I will not beg you to reconsider if you truly wish to leave.”

  Jahrra closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose. Between the time she had stepped away from him, and this very moment, her irritation and doubt had somehow fizzled away. In her mind’s eye, she brought back all the memories over the years, all the small gestures, the sidelong looks. The way Jaax had pushed her, not truly because he felt he needed to be in control, but because he wanted her to be able to defend herself. The time he took her to the play in Lidien for her birthday ... The time he placed that bet when she faced off Pendric in Cahrdyarein ... The way he had looked at her before falling to what she believed was his death in Vruuthun.

  Jahrra shuddered and Jaax stiffened, his fingers tightening ever so slightly on her elbows. But, he did not wrap his arms around her. He did not pull her closer. Jahrra took a step back and met his eyes, her own softening. Yes, she could be angry with him for what he’d kept from her, for making her think he had been dead. But, they had wasted enough time already. Had she not been ready to move the stars and the mountains to find him, to spend even a moment in the presence of his spirit? And here he was, standing before her. Healthy, whole, and human. More than she could possibly wish for.

  But there was one more thing Jahrra wanted to know, at least one more question she could think of at the moment. “So, just how did you defeat death, then?”

  Jaax frowned, but it was more a gesture of contemplation than disapproval.

  “I don’t remember hitting the rocks,” he said at last, “but I do remember a great wave rushing forth as I plummeted. I think it might have caught me just before the transformation hit and rolled me around before depositing me on shore, but I can’t say for sure. Everything went dark after that. I woke, gods and goddesses know how much longer after the end of the battle. I was bruised, battered, half frozen and naked. I didn’t even have time to rejoice in the fact I was human once again. I simply lay there, waiting for death to claim me. You had survived, I reminded myself, not even knowing if that was entirely true. And, at least the curse had been broken.”

  He paused, and shifted his weight forward ever so slightly. Jahrra remained where she was.

  Jaax took a deep, shuddering breath, then in a soft voice he admitted, “Ethoes came to me, then. And it may have been an illusion, I was far enough gone for it to be so, but I believe it was truly her. She told me I could not give up, that you needed me more than ever now. She said your heart was broken, though you didn’t realize how badly, and the only thing to heal you would be for me to return to Oescienne and claim my birthright. And to find you.”

  In any other situation, Jahrra might have scoffed and thought him crazy. But had she not also experienced visions and things explained only by magic, or some other power she could not name? The dreams of the hooded figure, of him, coming to her when she needed comfort the most. Finding the spirits of Kehllor and Hroombra in the oak tree standing not too far from them. Her existence in this world, despite its lack of humans at her birth …

  “A gift,” she whispered, her voice so quiet only Jaax could hear it. “A gift from Ethoes, for all we sacrificed, for all we did to purge her world of the hateful evil that was Ciarrohn.”

  And, Jahrra was eternally grateful for that gift.

  “I will never leave you again, Jahrra,” Jaax, the prince of the Tanaan, whispered. Gently, he pulled her face forward so he could kiss her brow, before moving his lips to the corner of her mouth. But, he stopped before taking that final step, his breath warm against her skin. And, she realized he was waiting. Waiting for her to be the one to make that leap, to decide her own fate.

  “I would have searched the ends of the world for you, Raejaaxorix,” she admitted. “I would have sought out your spirit until the end of my days.”

  He grinned again, and she felt it this time. Which was good because her eyes had drifted shut. She wanted to feel everything, to breathe it all in.

  “Well, then it’s a good thing you don’t have to,” Jaax replied, tone gruff.

  And, with those final words, Jahrra pushed her fingers through his hair and closed that thread of distance between them. This time, the kiss started out as something cautious, a slow savoring of that sacred touch both of them had yearned for. But then Jaax’s lips parted, and Jahrra, not knowing entirely what to do, followed his lead. The kiss deepened into something far more intense than a greeting and as everything truly began to sink in, as Jahrra finally found the courage to admit this wasn’t a dream to melt away with the morning fog, she opened her heart and soul and let the warmth, joy, light, and the enduring love of Ethoes smiling down upon them pour into her.

  “Now, Jahrra,” Jaax asked, his mouth still pressed to hers, “are you still intent on leaving?”

  That gleam in his eyes, the one she had been so familiar with for so many years, hinted that he already knew the answer. She smiled, her heart finally feeling light for the first time in ages, and laced her fingers behind his neck.

  “No. Everything I could possibly want is right here in Oescienne. A nice home, good friends, and my one-time exasperating guardian whom I can now defeat in a sword fight.”

  Jaax huffed out a laugh. “So, you still think you can out maneuver me, even in my human form?”

  Jahrra snorted. “Are you serious? The last time you challenged me, I knocked a scale from your hand. And that was when you were ten times my size. Sparring with you now will be a walk in the park. Besides, something tells me you might be out of practice. It’s one thing to intimidate a small girl in dragon form, with all your teeth and claws, and quite another to take on a grown woman who knows what she’s doing.”

  Jaax angled his head to the side and arched a brow, his hands sliding to her hips. Not ready to let her go, but wanting to put enough distance between them so that she might see his face.

  “I never used my teeth on you, or my claws. You exaggerate.”

  “How about we return to your castle and see if you can do what you claim?”

  Jaax’s flashing eyes softened again, his fingers tightening on her hips. “My castle, Jahrra? I rather hoped you’d realize by now that it is your castle, too. Our castle. Our kingdom, to rule and govern together.”

  Jahrra’s heart leapt to her throat. She knew what he was asking her, though he had not yet spoken the words.

  “Will you?” he murmured, his voice tentative. “Rule Oescienne with me? Rejoice with me in times of joy, mourn with me in times of sorrow? Care for me when I am ill and allow me to return the favor as well? Will you join your heart with mine, and sit beside me as Oescienne’s queen?”

  Tear
s had pooled in his eyes again, and when Jahrra nodded her head, her own tears spilling forth, he smiled so brightly it lit the world around her.

  “Yes, Jaax, Aeron,” she whispered harshly, using his given name, “no one could bestow a greater honor upon me. Nothing could make me happier.”

  He moved so fast she had no time to react, only to release a short yelp as he lifted her up and spun her around, their cloaks unfurling like banners behind them, stirring the mist still lingering in the field. Jahrra threw her head back and laughed, her fingers laced behind the prince’s neck as he showed no signs of slowing.

  Eventually, Jaax came to a stop and lowered her to the ground, claiming one more breath-stealing kiss before taking her hand and leading her to where Phrym and his own copper-hued semequin grazed.

  “What will everyone say when they see us riding in together, grinning like fools?” Jahrra wondered aloud. She was so overwhelmingly happy, she couldn’t stop smiling. “What will Denaeh, Ellyesce, and Dervit say?”

  “Denaeh won’t be surprised. She sent me after you this morning. And Ellyesce will be overjoyed. Dervit, on the other hand, was further in the dark than you. It might take him a while to get used to the idea.”

  “And, all our other friends,” Jahrra added, poking him in the chest with a finger. “Gieaun and Scede, Torrell and Senton, Dathian and those in Dhonoara. Sapheramin and Tollorias.”

  Jaax gave her another smile, then Jahrra’s expression grew pensive. “And, what should I call you? Jaax or Aeron?”

  He stepped in close once more, trapping her against Phrym. Her semequin only flicked one ear in their direction, then shook out his mane and kept cropping grass.

  “You can call me whatever you want,” he crooned softly.

  A thrill skittered over Jahrra’s nerves, and she bit her lip against a smile. “I think in private I’ll call you Jaax, but in public, Aeron.” She quirked a brow and continued, “How did you get the name Raejaaxorix, anyway?”