by Amy Sumida
“I just need to return the helmet,” I said as I reached back into the carriage for my backpack.
I pulled out the Helmet of Invisibility and strode over to the brothers with it. Hinrik started to smile as soon as he saw their relic, but Dagur had been grinning from the moment he had spotted me. In another life, I might have pursued that, but not this one. This life was overflowing with love; I had to leave some for another lucky lady. Still, I could at least thank Dagur properly.
“Hinrik,” I said as I handed him the helmet, “your treasure; as promised.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.” Hinrik bowed as he took the helmet. “I hope it came in useful.”
“It saved my life,” I said as I set my sincere stare on Dagur. “And, indirectly, the lives of everyone on Earth. Thank you, Dagur.”
I leaned in and kissed him; holding his face in my hands to prevent him from taking it further. He stood still—hands at his sides—only moving his lips beneath mine; a little pressure in response to my touch. When I moved away, his eyes had warmed into Caribbean blue.
“I'm relieved that you have returned home safely, Princess Seren,” Dagur said. “And honored that I was able to provide you with the tool that ensured that safety.”
“It protected me on more than one occasion, but in the last, it helped me to kill our enemy,” I added. “In addition to mine, you have the gratitude of all the monarchs of Fairy and the High Council.”
“The only gratitude I wanted was that which you left upon my lips.” Dagur grinned wickedly. “If you wish to bestow another on their behalf, I will gladly accept it.”
Dagur was teasing, but I knew he was also failing to grasp how instrumental his help had been to our success.
So, I leaned forward and said, “On behalf of the Kings of Fairy”—then I gave him another kiss—“and the High Council of Fairy,”—one last kiss—“I thank you, Dagur of Twilight.”
Dagur's jaw fell open as I eased away. Hinrik laughed as the elves around us applauded.
“I've never seen him speechless before, Your Highness,” Hinrik declared. “That alone was worth the lending of the helmet. However, I'm also relieved to hear of your success and to see you arrive home safely.”
“Thank you.” I nodded to Hinrik, and then I noticed the non-elves in the crowd. “You've allowed the returnees to move in,” I noted.
“We have.” Dagur cleared his throat. “And they have been useful to our community. They are welcome here for as long as they wish to stay.”
“I'm glad to hear it.” I looked around at the fairies. “I hope that you find a home to settle in soon, but if you need assistance, come to the castle, and we will help you.”
The fairies around me bowed, and I turned to head back to the carriage.
“Your Highness.” Dagur chased after me and caught up to me by the carriage. “I... if you ever need assistance again; please call on me.”
“Thank you. Goodbye, Dagur,” I said gently and got into the carriage.
As we rode away, Dagur remained where he was and watched forlornly. His brother came up beside him and held up a hand in farewell.
“That looked intimate,” Daxon noted.
“Dagur risked the wrath of his people to protect me.” I turned away from the window to look at Daxon. “And I knew there was only one thing he wanted.”
“That wasn't what he wanted,” Daxon said with a surprisingly gentle smile.
“No, but it was the most that I could give him.”
Daxon nodded. “Love isn't always satisfying, but it is worth experiencing.”
“Are you saying that he'll get over me and look back on this fondly?” I asked.
“No.” Dax chuckled grimly. “He'll never get over you; how could he? But loving you, even unrequitedly, is worth every second of the pain.”
“You're getting really good at this,” I said.
“Not bad,” Killian muttered as he cracked open his eyelids. “But if that dark elf ever tries anything with you after we're married, Twilight, I'm going to kick his ebony ass.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Daxon met my father—for the first time—in the courtyard of Twilight Castle. Keir had been waiting for us on the castle steps, to welcome me home. As the most colorful of my men—in physical appearance and in personality—I was curious to see my father's reaction to Daxon. The introduction went well—as did Cat's inspection of Daxon—and seeing the two men together made for a pretty picture; Keir's amethyst hair went nicely with Daxon's sapphire. It made me smile. Seeing them hit it off right away, made me smile even more.
After we had our homecoming, Daxon asked to speak with my father privately concerning some monarch issues. I figured that Daxon wanted to keep the camaraderie going and butter my father up while he had the chance. It was always a good idea to get your girlfriend's father on your side. Killian and I shrugged and left them to it; heading up to my bedroom with Cat.
We went straight through the bedroom and into my luxurious bathroom. Every room in my tower was extravagant, but Killian had seen it all before. He tossed his clothes on the gold counter and didn't give the purple wallpaper a second look. We both wanted nothing more than to soak our tired muscles in a nice hot bath.
So, we climbed into my enormous, star-shaped tub (much more comfortable than it sounds) and lounged—and made out a bit—for an hour or so; luxuriating in the steam from the water and our proximity to each other, as well as the fact that we didn't have to do a damn thing. By the time we climbed out of the amber-scented water, we were relaxed and flushed; ready to face the world. We dressed for dinner and went looking for Dad and Dax.
Kill and I found them in the family quarters between the tower bedrooms. Keir and Daxon were having a drink like old buddies; laughing over some joke. I have to admit; I was surprised at how at ease they were together. My father got along well with most people, but this looked like more than that; he really liked Daxon.
“This looks comfy,” I said as I took a seat beside Daxon.
Cat laid herself on my feet and started cleaning her claws.
“He's very witty,” my father said to me. “Perhaps even sharp enough to handle you.”
“Maybe,” I agreed. “If he doesn't cut himself with his own tongue.”
“I've asked your father if he would excuse our presence from dinner tonight,” Daxon said. “He's graciously agreed, even though it's your first night back.”
“Why would we need to be excused?” I asked with a lifted brow.
Cat stopped chewing her claws to look up and narrow her eyes at Daxon.
“I was hoping you'd agree to dine alone with me,” Dax said. “Will you?”
“I...” I frowned from Daxon to Killian.
“I'm okay with eating with your father,” Killian said. “I wanted to talk to him about the wedding anyway.”
Cat whined.
“And Cat,” Killian added. “Sorry, girl; I didn't mean to exclude you.”
“All right,” I agreed. “Why not?”
“Excellent.” Daxon stood and held out his hand. “I've had something prepared.”
“You've had something prepared in my home?” I lifted a brow.
“With your father's assistance,” Daxon amended.
I looked at my dad, and he smirked.
“What's happening right now?” I frowned at them.
“Have fun, you two.” Dad waved us away without answering me.
“This is very clandestine,” I murmured, but I took Daxon's hand and got to my feet; dislodging Cat, who jumped up on the couch beside Killian with an offended air.
“Later, babe,” Killian called after me.
“Copy that, Cobra Commander.” I saluted Killian, and he chuckled.
“What is a 'Cobra Commander'?” Keir asked.
“Oh! You don't know G.I. Joe?” Killian exclaimed. “Okay, so it's this cartoon about American soldiers—”
“What's a cartoon?” My father interrupted.
“What's a car
toon?!” Killian repeated in shock. “It's a good thing we have this time together, King Twilight; you obviously need my help.”
I shook my head, and Daxon gave me an amused look as he led me down to the ground floor of the castle and then out to the courtyard. A pair of horses were saddled and waiting for us, along with Conri and Desmond.
“Well, this was starting to look romantic,” I said. “Until I saw the hounds.”
“King Keir won't let us leave the castle without at least a small Guard,” Daxon explained.
“Where are we going?” I asked as Daxon helped me into my saddle.
“A special place that I was told you enjoyed,” he said with a wink.
“Who told you?”
“You'll know when you see it,” he said.
We rode out of the courtyard and behind the castle. When we veered right, toward the forest, I started to get suspicious. Then we rode into the trees, and I saw the boulder with the apple carved into it. The overgrown path was the same, but just as before, it got easier the further in we went. We came to an apple orchard and followed the path into it. At the edge of the Sacred Grove, Desmond and Conri fell back and dismounted; spreading out to watch over us, despite the safety of Danu's holy site.
I shook my head and smiled at Daxon as he helped me off my horse. The Goddess herself had told him where to take me. I should have known it wouldn't be something as common as a suggestion from one of the castle guards.
We walked hand-in-hand into the clearing in the center of the orchard; a soft smile on both of our faces. It was there that I had first seen the Goddess, and first eaten one of her apples. But this was Daxon's first time in the meadow, and he gazed around himself with a peaceful expression that quickly became amazed as the landscape started to shift.
The air warmed as we moved from Fairy into a between place that was laid directly over it; a pocket of reality Danu had created to be able to communicate more easily with her children. The darkening sky lightened to high noon; brightening the colors around us. The orchard was suddenly heavily-laden with fruit and stretched to eternity in all directions. The scent of those ripe, sacred apples filled the air, and both Daxon and I breathed in deeply. The aroma alone was healing, and I felt more refreshed and relaxed than I had when I was soaking in my bath with Killian.
At the far end of the meadow, a cave had appeared. It was the same as I remembered. There was a stone altar set in its center and, carved within that, there was a basin. A steady fall of water droplets fell from the tip of a perfectly smooth stalactite above the basin; rippling the surface of the water that had already collected there. I had first seen Danu's face in that water.
I was expecting Danu to show up with that shift; this was the place you came to when you wanted to speak to the Goddess. But the Sacred Grove remained Danu-less. It looked like our goddess wanted us to have some alone time. Daxon let go of my hand with a smile and set down the picnic basket he'd been carrying. He pulled out a thick blanket and spread it on the grass before removing our meal.
“A picnic in Danu's Grove?” I asked with surprise.
“Danu suggested it,” he admitted.
“Is there a reason why Danu would suggest that you bring me here for a picnic?” I asked as I took a seat.
“Patience, Seren,” he chided me. “Let's enjoy the food first.”
“Fine; it's your show. Go ahead and entertain me,” I teased as I accepted a glass of wine from him.
Daxon smiled mysteriously but said nothing.
I watched patiently as Daxon doled out the food. It was strange—having dinner in the afternoon light—but lovely. The food was fantastic—I don't think I've ever had a bad meal in Fairy—and the conversation was peaceful until Daxon started talking about his past.
“I want you to know about my family,” he began.
“Are they still in Unseelie?”
“I have a few surviving cousins. I think there's also an uncle,” Daxon murmured, “but my parents are dead. They died in the battle to remove King Raza the First from the throne.”
“I'm sorry,” I whispered.
“It was a very long time ago.” He shrugged and refilled my glass. “My mother was a magnificent woman and stunningly beautiful. I got my looks from her, of course.” He smirked.
“Of course.” I agreed dryly.
“My father was a stern Thorn supporter,” Daxon went on. “He was one of the sidhe who pushed for Dhoire to take the throne. My mother, however, was friends with Raza's mother, and she didn't agree with my father.”
“This story is about to turn tragic, isn't it?” I whispered.
“Not as tragic as the end of King Dhoire himself, but far less romantic.” Daxon went deadly serious. “My father caught Mother sneaking out of our home late one night. She was on her way to warn King Raza of the traitors in his midst.”
“One of them being her husband,” I said.
“Just so.” Daxon nodded. “Father flew into a rage and hurt my mother badly. He didn't kill her, but when I stepped in to stop him, he broke my arm and blackened my eye.”
“Holy shit,” I hissed.
“You have to understand what that first King Raza would have done to us; what that madman was like,” Daxon said. “The King would have flown into a rage; quite literally. Our home and everyone in it would have been burned to the ground by dragon breath. Except for my father; King Raza would have kept him to torture before he killed. And then he would have wiped out every Tromlaighe in existence.”
“If he was so horrible, why did your mother try to warn him?”
“Mother swore that she wasn't going to give King Raza my father's name,” Daxon said with a sad shake of his head. “But the King would have gotten it out of her. He was diabolical; an ancient, paranoid dragon who guarded his throne as if it were his treasure. And even if he hadn't killed us, he would have gone after people my father loved and respected. What my father did to my mother was brutal, but if she had made it to Court that night, I might not be alive today, and the rule of Raza the First may still be poisoning Unseelie.”
I stared at Daxon and tried my best not to cry. I knew he didn't want that from me; he wanted to share this and be comforted, not have to comfort me. But knowing that both of his parents had betrayed him, in a way, was hard to hear.
“So, your mother believed that she was doing the right thing, but it was your father who saved you,” I concluded.
“That's putting it nicely,” he whispered. “I suppose he did save us—and Unseelie—but the way he did it was evil, and the man it turned him into was nearly as bad as that insane dragon king. From that day on, my father saw women as treacherous temptations. He taught me that trusting a woman would only lead to ruin; that, although they professed to be swayed by their hearts, love would never stop them from doing precisely what they wanted.”
“So, you took what you wanted from them instead,” I concluded.
“Yes, but I haven't finished my story.” Daxon swallowed convulsively before continuing. “My father imprisoned my mother in our home. She became his whore and his slave. He used the Tromlaighe to beat her spirit down until he didn't even have to confine her; she stayed out of fear.”
“Sweet Danu,” I whispered.
“At first, I tried to help her,” Daxon said. “But I was just a child and every time I freed her, my father would catch us. He couldn't use the Tromlaighe on me—not with it being my own magic—so he'd beat me instead and lock her up tighter than before. After awhile, I began to see things his way. I have no idea how he did it; how he used violence to convince me of his beliefs, but he did. My father was a master manipulator. I think it comes with the Tromlaighe magic; this ability to understand and twist the mind. By the time I was a grown man, I was completely under his sway.”
“So, you both became prisoners,” I whispered.
“In a way,” he agreed. “Then the rebellion finally grew strong enough to overthrow Raza. War came to Unseelie, and all three of us fought to support King
Dhoire. Only I made it off the battlefield alive. I think my mother went to the battle intending to die. Committing suicide is difficult for a fairy; especially when you're as closely watched as she was. I believe she saw the war as a blessing; a way out. Mother made her way to the thickest part of the battlefield and stopped fighting. She just stood there with her arms at her sides and her gaze lifted to the sky. My father died trying to protect her.”
“So, it was a romantic ending,” I said gently as I took his hand. “Despite the betrayal and the violence between them, there was still love; enough of it to die for.”
Daxon blinked and frowned. “I've never thought about it like that.” His gaze went distant, and when it refocused on me, it was softer. “I think you're right; he did love her. And that was why he hurt her so badly.”
“Because he was hurt so badly by what she did,” I whispered.
“I don't condone his behavior, but I do understand it,” Daxon said as he looked into my eyes. “Can you still love a man who can sympathize with a monster?”
“Understanding evil is the key to conquering it,” I said. “Of course, I still love you; I couldn't stop, even if I wanted to.”
Daxon's shoulders sagged with relief.
“But if you ever try to lock me up and use the Tromlaighe on me, I'll burn all that pretty blue hair away.”
Daxon laughed with a burst of surprised sound, and then covered his mouth with horror. “I can't believe you just made me laugh after I confided the tragic events of my life to you.”
“Life is sometimes tragic,” I mused. “But love and laughter are the best remedies for that. If I can make you laugh when you should be crying, I think we stand a pretty good chance, Tromlaighe.”
“I think so too, Firethorn,” Daxon said as he pulled a velvet box out of the picnic basket. He opened it to reveal a sparkling teardrop pendant. “I felt like a ring would have been pointless; you won't be able to wear it. But I wanted to honor your human traditions while giving you something that represented me as well. It's a blue diamond.”
“It's bloody beautiful, is what it is,” I whispered. Then I looked up at him sharply. “But what is it, really?”
