#@whatsup-gorls
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Suicidal Misunderstanding Part Three: SW Time Travel AU #27
Part One
Part Two
Obi Wan woke with a dry mouth and a moderate headache. A fairly typical morning these days.
He peered around his bedroom in the temple confused. Wasn’t he just with Cody? Shouldn’t he be on the Negotiator? No wait, the war was over, Cody tried to kill him, and the Negotiator was a part of the Imperial Armada, of course he wouldn’t be there. He closed his eyes, snuggling back under the covers. Before he could drift back to sleep, his sluggish mind processed that last thought.
He BOLTED upright in bed. The temple had been razed, his personal chambers scorched with particular thoroughness. Just being on Coruscant was an automatic death sentence. Faint tendrils of panic began to curl around his throat before he remembered his decision to give Spice a try. He had reasoned that he should probably find at least one pleasure in his new life, instead of focusing incessantly on what was lost.
So what if he lost a few brain cells? Good riddance.
Obi-Wan had been a bit nervous, but this had ended up being his best decision in years. His goodbye to Cody had been painful, but deeply cathartic. Spice Hallucination Anakin didn’t scream like Nightmare Anakin, and the color of his eyes was perfect. Far better final memories to cling to than reality- a reminder of the good times. Comforted, he relaxed backwards in bed, pulling his blankets back around him.
He LURCHED out of bed, covers tossed aside, movement a blur.
He was still hallucinating?!? Spice shouldn’t last in the system this long! He might’ve been uncertain about whether he was supposed to smoke or snort the substance but it was a well known fact that its exhaustive but rapid passage through the body was half what made it so addictive. If nothing else, his well-restedness and thirst indicated it had been at least six hours. He looked frantically around the room, searching for some thread of unreality to pull at.
This...was not good. Hadn’t the subconscious manifestations of his friends mentioned drugs that interacted poorly with force users last night? He had dismissed it at the time but...
He clearly was stuck in some sort of drugged fantasy combined with force-enhanced memory recall. Kriff, he had to wake up in the real world before he died of an aneurysm. Or just dehydration.
He sat on the ‘temple floor’ to meditate. This could be tricky as he couldn’t risk lowering his outer shields to reach out to reality. It would be deeply embarrassing as well as horrifying if the Emperor managed to find him and, by extension, Luke because he got stuck in a bad spice trip.
The door to his room clicked open quietly.
“Oh! You’re awake. Sorry to come in without knocking, Master. I wanted to let you sleep, but I’ve been checking on you every two hours to make sure you were still, you know, breathing. You were...pretty out of it last night and I would be a pretty bad ‘best friend in the whole galaxy’ if I let you choke on your own vomit, right?” His blue-eyed Padawan explained with a grin.
Obi-Wan just stared. Oh this- this hurt. It was easier last night, when the whole fantasy had a kind of drunken blurriness. Sleeping and waking had brought sober clarity to the dream world. He could see the bags under Anakin’s eyes as well as the sheepish slouch of his shoulders as he instinctively ducked at the door frame. It was just so real.
“Obi-Wan? Are you feeling ok? Do you still feel drunk?” Anakin asked concerned.
Obi-Wan shook his head. He hesitated, before deciding to just go along with the interaction. He didn’t want to risk his subconscious throwing a less idylic scene at him by pretending to ignore this one. And besides, last night had been, all totaled, a huge relief- an unburdening of things left unsaid. This was probably the closest thing to therapy available to him these days, he might as well take advantage.
“I’m just...processing. Not to mention dealing with some mild dehydration.” He finally answered.
“Processing, huh? So does that mean you, uh, remember last night?” Anakin asked nervously.
“I do.” Obi-Wan smiled gently. As heart-wrenching as this was, it was also adorably sweet. Maybe it was worth it to push off waking for a little while. He could get some closure, maybe even work through some of the past to see where the two of them had gone wrong. It might even be helpful for Luke! Force willing, he would probably end up training Anakin’s son someday.
(the boy wouldn’t have many masters to choose from)
If this dream world could help him figure out specifically how he had failed as a Master, then he owed it to the galaxy to see it through. Satisfied, he resolved to let the fantasy play out. At least for a few more more hours. And...he had missed what Anakin had said. Wonderful start.
“I’m very sorry, Anakin would you mind repeating that? I was still a little distracted, but I promise, I’m focused on you now.”
Anakin shuffled nervously. “It’s nothing.”
Obi-Wan tried to project reassurance without actually projecting. “Please Anakin, I’d like to hear what you have to say. I know I wasn’t the most observant or approachable Master, and I’m sorry for that. But I have always cared about your thoughts and feelings.” It was a struggle and the words caught in his throat, but the raw burn of the apology was cleansing in an almost addictive way.
Anakin flushed. “Did you mean everything you said?” he asked nervously.
“I’d...rather not talk about seeing the destruction of the temple, seeing you... Maybe later...but please, I just don’t want to focus on it while I’m sitting here, looking at you,” Obi-Wan said quietly.
“That actually wasn’t what I was talking about,” Anakin responded quickly. “I mean, I do want to help you with that at some point, but I get not wanting to talk about visions, even if you should probably should. Of course if you do want to talk about that stuff, that’s more important, but since you don’t we can talk about the other stuff you mentioned. I was more referring to, you know, us, and what you said about our friendship?” his voice got progressively higher the longer he rambled.
Obi-Wan thought back. “Well some of it is a little hazy, but overall yes. I...for a very long time I’ve considered you my best friend, and its not so easy for me to let go of my affections. I miss spending time with you; there are times I turn to say something and am still shocked you’re not there. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, with real words, how much I cared. I’m sorry I didn’t hug you as much as I wanted, looking back that was a nonsensical Jedi custom. It’s not in the code; it’s just an affectation of dignity. All things considered, the fact that you often snuck out to see Padme doesn’t really bother me.” He paused. “Was that everything?”
“Oh. Yeah, that pretty much covered everything.” Anakin looked embarrassed, but happy. “I wasn’t sure if you were just saying that stuff because you were drugged, or really drunk or something.”
“No, I meant what I said. I suppose it just took an altered state for me to relax enough to actually say it instead of just thinking at you and assuming you would know. I must admit, its difficult for me to maintain this emotional honesty without feeling drunk, but it’s good. This is good.”
“Ah, that’s... wow. So you weren’t drugged? Cody was concerned you seemed to off for much you actually drank.”
Obi-Wan frowned. Hadn’t that been a trip? Vision blurring from desert hovel to some nameless Catina he once visited with Cody. The continuity since then was almost unsettling. But, then again, Obi-Wan always did have a remarkable talent for self-delusion, didn’t he. He waved away the concerns.
“My substance consumption was entirely deliberate and exactly what I needed. There might have been some unknown additions with some unforeseen after-affects, but like I said- I’m not drunk. I’m clear minded and in full control right now and I knowingly accept the current fallout from whatever I took. I could meditate and force purge to completely recenter, but I think it would be far wiser to just see where this goes. Do you disagree, Anakin?”
Anakin grinned widely. “Whatever you say, Obi-Wan. Just remember this is your idea. Also, I’m taking you to the healers tonight if you’re not completely back to yourself.”
Obi-Wan signed, “If I’m not back to myself in 12 hours, than I fully agree that’s a problem worthy of the halls of healing.”
“Right,” Anakin nodded decisively, “I’ll go get you some water then comm Cody to tell him you’re still alive.
Obi-Wan smiled weakly in response. This wasn’t just a hashed up memory; the responsiveness was more that. He quickly got dressed, hands lingering over soft fabrics and sand-free linens.
Anakin dropped off a cup of water; Obi-Wan sipped at it hesitantly. Dear force, this was dangerously vivid. It actually felt like a relief in his parched mouth. Clearly his subconscious was pulling out all the stops to trap him in this soft delusion. He would have to deal with the thirst and hunger until he woke up- it was probably the firmest link he had to his real body.
He took one last look around before rushing out of his room, eager to take advantage of the time.
Anakin looked nervously up from the comm when Obi-Wan started pulling his boots on. “You’re not going out in the temple like this, are you?”
“Of course! I want to visit the gardens and the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Not to mention spend some time with a few of the other Jedi. You might still be the dearest being in my heart, but there were other Jedi that I care for, and dammit I’m going to tell them that.” He finally finished lacing up his left leg and moved to the right.
Anakin was dumbstruck, presumably as burnt by the ‘dearest being’ comment as Obi-Wan was. Then he rallied, “Wow, wow, No. You are not running around the temple drugged so you can, I don’t know, give Mace Windu a hug. I thought when you said you were going to ‘deal with the fallout' from whatever the kriff you’re still on, you meant you were going to lounge around the quarters all day!”
His former padawan physically blocked the door when Obi-Wan started to leave, sounding vaguely hysterical, “You can’t run around loopy! You’re a High Council Member!”
“Not anymore,” Obi-Wan replied bitterly.
“What do you mean not anymore,” Anakin said fiercely, grabbing on to his shoulders . “Did they kick you out? Is that why you’re acting crazy? Did you resign?”
Obi-Wan responded by pulling Anakin into a hug, which was immediately returned, “Of course not, don’t be absurd. Fine, I suppose I’m technically still a high council member, it just seems like a bit of a moot point.”
“What the kark does that mean? You used to dream about being on the council! You’re the wisest Master in any of those stupid chairs!”
‘Master of the High Council’ Kenobi just sighed heavily in response. He maneuvered around the confused errant Knight and into the hall.
"Obi-Wan wait! At least eat something first! Or let me put my shoes on!”
“Very well, you have one minute to make yourself presentable. I only have a few hours before I’m going to need to get back to reality, and the longer I linger the more I fear extreme measures may be necessary.”
“What does that mean?” Anakin shouted from inside. “Extreme measures sounds really ominous, you know.”
“I’d rather not get into it, alright? Let’s just enjoy the here-and-now, eh, ad’ika?
Anakin crashed out the door with less than a second to spare. “What did you just call me?"
“Ad’ika,” Obi-Wan answered, striding down the hallway in the direction of the hanging gardens. “Surely you must have picked up some Mando’a from the troopers?”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t sure if I heard you right, bu- um- ori'vod,” Anakin fumbled out. “Uh, you’re not going to call me that in front of anyone else, right? You do remember that the council already gives us the side eye for over-attachment right?”
Obi-Wan hummed thought fully in responded. “There are far worse things a Jedi could do than admit to affection they already feel. Maybe if I had been honest about my attachments, they wouldn’t have ended the way that...” he trailed off quietly.
“The way that what,” Anakin asked frustrated. “You’re really giving me some emotional whiplash over here, and I’m starting to think that putting off dragging you to the healers is a stupid idea.
“There are far stupider things a Jedi could do,” he responded cheerily. “Oh look, there’s Plo Koon. MASTER KOON!” He shouted, startling the Kel Doran Jedi.
“Yes, Master Kenobi?” He replied slightly concerned as the two human Jedi came jogging over.
“I just wanted to say that I consider my former padawan my family. I raised him, I care for him deeply, and I don’t want to let go of those feelings.”
Plo Koon nodded seriously in response. “I feel just the same about my former padawans, and the Wolffe pack, of course. Denying my attachments isn’t, personally, a practical way to handle them. I’d rather honestly live as an imperfect Jedi than pretend to be a perfect example of the code. If I must have some imbalance, I’d rather it be an excess of compassion than a dearth,” he replied earnestly.
“I always admired that about you,” Obi-Wan replied ruefully. “This might be a little odd, but could I have a hug? I hold you in the highest regard and I’ve realized that there are so many Jedi that I never directly expressed my affection for and...”
Plo Koon didn’t wait for Obi-Wan to finish before wrapping his arms around him. “Of course, dear boy. You’ve had such heavy burdens placed on your shoulders during your life, especially in the last few years; it saddens me to see how deeply they’ve weighed you down. If there’s anything I can do to help, in any way, you simply have to ask.”
Obi-Wan sniffled slightly into Plo’s Shoulder while Plo rubbed soothing circles over his back.
A few passing Jedi gave the embracing Masters uncomfortable looks before hurrying on their way. Anakin stood slack-jawed.
When they finally pulled back, Plo Koon hesitated before finally asking, “I don’t mean to pry, but what brought all this on? I can sense much grief from you, even through your impressive shields.”
“It’s a long story,” Obi-Wan replied, wiping at the corner of his eyes. “I’d rather not get into it.”
“He’s high,” Anakin offered bluntly. “He took something last night and won’t go to medical wing.”
“Ah,” Plo said. “Is that true?”
Obi-Wan looked a little embarrassed. “I have the situation under control. My connection with reality might be...slightly altered right now, but my emotions, and what I chose to do with them are my own. I’m just, taking advantage of a unique opportunity to express myself.”
Plo Koon seemed to scrutinize him intensely, “If you’re sure this is what you need, than I support you. Just don’t do anything too foolish.” he finally offered.
Obi-Wan beamed. “I appreciate you saying so, I thought you would be supportive. Farewell, Master Koon”
Obi-Wan offered a respectful bow and then turned to walk away briskly. Before Anakin could follow, Plo rested a claw on his arm.
“Feel free to comm me if his behavior reaches a point where you think he truly needs a healer. I’m happy to help you drag him there if need be. A little cathartic release isn’t in of itself such a bad thing, but if he starts acting too out of control...”
Anakin nodded in acknowledgment, then ran off to see who else Obi-Wan had chosen to throw himself at.
Part Four
#star wars#obi-wan needs a hug#obi-wan gets a hug#star wars au no 27#suicidal misunderstanding au#my au#time travel#hello there#@whatsup-gorls#and#@im-da-bronx#i googled what a tag list was and was a bit intimidated by the whole big multistep spreadsheet thing sorry#so i will probably not be doing a tag list for the near future#in any reliable sense#but i am very flattered you asked and am psyched you enjoy the story because i am also very excited about it#also to#@rainbowfam100#i saw your comment and just thought oh no me too#star wars au#sw#fanfiction#i keep wanting to tag this au with angst and then i read it over and its mostly hugs so know that there WILL be angst#but i guess were not really there yet#ive already written a big chunk of angst with only 2 hugs and both of them are very angsty so i feel confident in my prediction
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The Secret Correspondence of the Dancing War - Part 4
Part I / Part II / Part III
A/N: Part 4 of the accurate epilogue of Broken Throne we deserved, decoded by @lilyharvord and me, because we all need some fun after the angst and Jon’s bullshit! And who’s better to throw shade than:
iv. Evangeline
[Editor’s note: The original of this strongly ciphered and redacted letter remains in Montfort’s military archives. Apparently, the addressees only withheld from destroying the letter after reading because of this secure coding and, along with the author, agreed to preserve it in compliance with non-disclosure agreements. This version of the letter was provided for reading by persons with security clearance. It was decoded and edited by the secret service officer and current archivist, Gabriel Jacos. They decided to add in annotations in case of missing context or blotted out text but refrained from other explanatory notes to maintain its epistolary character. For further reading on the topic of the dancing war, see section: letters EITS i to LV v. GJA/]
March 13th 331
Hello Spark-hearts,
[or Mare and Cal],
I hope this unannounced letter doesn’t give you a heart attack. To avoid that, I took care not to pick my most exquisite stationery – as certain someones [from the Silver Session] are prone to – although I figure your stress base line has risen lately either way, which, thanks to Rose [Samos], I can relate to.
Rest assured I don’t know where you are as well as you don’t know my location. It’s better this way for everyone involved lest sensitive intelligence falls into the wrong hands. Any information in this letter I didn’t keep obscured enough in your opinion, however, was safely delivered by the hands of [Elane,] the real mistress of obscurity and her agents, a.k.a. my wife whom I trust with everything.
As blissed as I am by her, a bliss I wish – and expect – for you as well, it was a similar honour to learn about the news causing your absence from our mutual fatherly friend[s] [Dane and Carmadon]. I understand your discretion. I know how [the Silver Session] … [they can hunt] … their likes can be. Though it was only a matter of time until it was relayed to me, to be honest. After all, I’ve been a vital supporter of [Dane’s] for a long time, not least since I’ve taken up on your former tasks [of recruiting allies and eliminating identifying threats in Prairie]. Quite the difference between covert [agent] and representative [diplomat] but, you know. I’m perfect for either job.
But no offense. Let’s not talk about who’s the most effective at playing divide and conquer. You have your methods and contacts, as I have my own foes and friends [among the warladies, warlords and raiders of Prairie]. They [– our homes, our countries, our people –] are more to me than a game. To move beyond friends and foes, I am ready to break [Prairie’s fiefdoms], if necessary, as well as to melt and reforge this world. It's as true for our former and new home countries as for those that oppose us – or could be our allies. It’s about protecting what’s most important and that, you and I understand, right now, very well.
In the end, I shouldn’t be surprised by your choice. I could see it coming. How fond [Cal] is of little ones, and not just of their idea, no, he’s actually great with – almost – every [child]. Even the shy rose [Samos]!
You, [Mare,] on the other hand … it demanded more sophisticated perception but perceive I did. You, as well as I, have fought teeth and claws to protect our families and, forgotten gods, at what damage have we fought each other, too. Yet look where we have gotten. A miracle, but one we ought to keep alive. It let me get here, with my love, and it let me be friends with your sister as well. You can mark this down, but she showed me a lot I haven’t known. That includes, among other things, your fierce love for [your niece] whom my family has wronged, as well as an astonishing bout of sisterly pride for your heroism and compassion. Did she ever tell you that, I wonder? Well, she hasn’t admonished me not to tell you.
I wish you the best, even as we’re apart. I am happy for you, although I’m not happy at all about what we miss. Especially I, as I was robbed of celebrating the [baby’s] arrival. I couldn’t even take a look [at her] … As you didn’t see the outfit – and the fine presents shaped by my own two hands – I had ready.
That can’t stand, of course. Be certain I’ll further increase my efforts to end these unsatisfying situations [in Prairie and with the Silver Session] and until then, I’ll use every free minute I’m not preoccupied with perils and schemes to plan another great party for your two idiots…elopers.
So do not dare to tie any knots before consulting
[Evangeline Samos of Montfort]
@elliemarchetti @inopinion @maudthebookeater @scxrletguardsdawn @freaky-freiday @petergrantkavinsky @mareshmallow @farleydiana @king-maven-calore @whatsup-gorls @delilahlbard
#the secret correspondence of the dancing war#i know#'of recruiting allies and eliminating identifying threats in Prairie' - this should be crossed out with eliminating being crossed out twice#to make sense#gabriel did their best to peserve the epistolary character AND eve's tone lol#evangeline samos#evangeline x elane#marecal#mare x cal#marecal baby#coriane barrow-calore#victoria aveyard#broken throne spoilers#mare barrow#tiberias VII#cal calore#gabriel jacos#anyway#if it's just in brackets gabriel added in something#if it's in brackets and stroke out then eve blotted it out first
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The Chain (Part 11)
Hello Darlings, it’s been a long time coming, but here is the next part of The Chain. (: Please know that there is a little bit of forcing in this chapter to make things work, but its called a plot hole, not a plot no (((: Also, she is nice and long for you guys since it has been sometime since she got some TLC.
I’ve got two words for you all: Time Travel.
Main concept: Two love struck idiots get sent back to a pretty UGH time period in their lives (that required me to reread all the books again) and have to hide the fact that they know everything. Stupidity ensues.
Enjoy
Find the rest of the fic here: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10
tag list: @delilahlbard, @king-maven-calore, @thatoddgirl777, @elliekratzzz, @evangelineartemiasamos, @evangeline-of-montfort, @scxrletguardsdawn, @freaky-freiday, @petergrantkavinsky, @kuwei, @whatsup-gorls, @katiemoore, @redqueenetwork, @tranquil-dusk (I’m trying to add you but for some reason it wont @... the same problem happens with @thatoddgirl777 and I have no idea how to fix it)
(/Mare/)
The barge glides through the murky water of the river and beyond the polished silver railing I rest my hand on, the shore of the Stilts rolls by like a faded oil painting. Ahead of me, hanging over the water, is an old tree Bree once dared me to crawl out on. The branches skim the water like skeletal fingers. I curl my own fingers around the railing in response to the memory of Bree’s laugh. I hope I get to hear it again, echoing in my parent’s town home.
The footsteps behind me are too light to be Cal. Even with all the work he has done to learn subterfuge, he is still a large human being. He’ll never be very good at sneaking up on anyone. I force an inhale when warm air washes over my side though.
Maven rests his forearms on the railing to watch the Stilts with me, his jaw tight and his eyes dark. I didn’t see him earlier today before we cast off, and I made sure he had no reason to speak with me now. I left nothing in those cells when I rescued Farley, not even a dusting of blood for Elara to use against me. Whatever he has come to discuss, it will define every point from now until the end.
“Have you heard of the chess move known as the King’s Snare?” His voice is softer than I thought it would be, given how hard the planes of his face are.
I glance at him warily, chewing on a response. I don’t want to talk to him about chess. I know he’s a master of it, that in all the years they played, Cal never beat him. Cal, the future general and war strategist who could throw together a plan in minutes with nothing but a handful of Reds, Ardents, and Silvers, never beat the boy before me. I don’t know why I think I have a hope of beat him or Elara.
“No. I don’t play chess.” I murmur letting the wind shift the loose hairs hanging by my cheeks. It plays in his curls too, tussling them like a loving hand.
The corner of his lips quirk up in a ghost of a smile before he turns to face me. He doesn’t flinch from my gaze, but that smile does fall. Pressing off the railing to stand at his full height, he tilts his head to the side as if in thought. “It’s a complex maneuver, and requires turns upon turns of preparation. It is the only strategy you can play once you initiate it. In each step, you make it appear as if you are losing. You let your opponent think they have won, and in the final step of preparation, you let your queen be taken and your king be cornered in a check mate.”
He shrugs before looking back onto the bank. His eyes sweep along the shacks on their tottering stilts. “Then, you take the opposing king with the only piece you have left. A pawn.”
I raise a brow at it before saying, “sounds complicated. I don’t have the patience for playing the long game, and I especially don’t like playing with people’s lives like they are pieces in my game.”
A fire lights in his eyes as he drags them over me, his expression hardening again. “I’m not so sure that’s the truth.”
His words are a warning in and of themselves. Squaring my shoulders to him and stabbing my nails into my palms, I purse my lips in a line to swallow my retort. We stand in a stalemate for a moment before he reaches a finger out to let a strand of my hair curl around it. His expression crumbles for just a moment before that mask slides up and hides the wounded boy underneath.
“Let’s not play this game Mare.” He bows his head and his lips almost ghost over my brow. I turn my head to the side to avoid the touch.
“I just told you I’m not playing games.”
His chuckle is humorless. With a quick step he closes the space between us completely and I have to crane my neck to meet his eye.
“You’re still useful to me and mother, but Cal has overstayed his welcome by a few years. His whole life actually, if I’m being perfectly honest.”
No more dancing around it then, we are going full in with the truth. I twist my lips to the side, letting my sneer finally grace my features. “If you think for one second I’m going to let you two get away with what you did a second time, you’re wrong.”
“Even if it means you lose everything you have coming?” He asks me that as if he actually cares. It makes me reel back while he smiles like a wolf. “We know Mare, and while it’s adorable watching you attempt to play against us, you played your final card last night.”
My lightning dances on my fingertips. What I wouldn’t give for Tyton’s brain lightning, so that I could turn Maven’s insides into jelly and leave him on this deck before going after Elara. I should have ended all of this weeks ago. I could have, I know that for a fact.
“I haven’t played any of my cards yet.” I warm Maven with a raised chin. I let the mask of Mareena disappear and I let him see Mare Barrow, the girl who bested two kings, the woman who has seen more than enough front lines, and who was born in a storm on top of a mountain. She has been broken and put back together so many times that she knows every piece of herself better than she ever did before. She thrives in storms and turns them to her will like this boy turns words to his.
“You haven’t seen anything Maven. Don’t for one second think you have cornered me.” My lips curl into a small smile as I look him over with a critical eye. “Besides, while you’re playing chess, I am playing another game entirely.”
A muscle in his jaw flutters when I speak, and his eyes darken further.
Pressing to my toes, I let my next words caress his lips like a kiss. “And if you two do know everything, I’m surprised you haven’t removed any and all letter openers from my reach while we’ve been together.”
His face pales in a flush, and the air around us climbs in temperature so quickly beads of sweat begin to prickle on my brow. Ignoring the monster I’ve obviously poked awake, I set my hand on his chest right above his pounding heart and drop my eyes to his lips before looking back up to meet those icy blue eyes.
“And as for your mother, I think I killed her too quickly the first time.”
His tongue darts across his teeth for a second before disappearing as his lips pull back in a sneer. There is a flash of something akin to uncertainty in his eyes though. A thrill rushes through me. She didn’t tell him that part, and she might have even kept his own death from him. Interesting.
Sliding back away from him and dropping my hand, I take in his flittering emotions he desperately tries to keep under control. I can’t image what is passing through his mind. If Elara didn’t tell him about their deaths, what else has she kept from him? It might be worth it to poke a little more and find out.
Even as the thought of prying him open and exposing his hollow insides thrills me, I can’t help thinking of how he spent hours near my bedside after Samson had turned me inside out and left me a bleeding corpse. Nor can I ignore that once upon a time, a part of him had loved me.
“Oh Maven,” I breathe, my chest aching once more as I look him over. “You could have been something wonderful if you had been anyone else’s.”
His inhale is sharp, and the heat around us vanishes as he sucks it in to fuel the furnace of his emotions. The next words that leave me are as much a truth as they are a weapon that I use against him.
“I might have loved you too, you know. I might have been happy with you.”
His entire body goes taut like a rubber band pulled too tight. I can’t imagine what those words have done to him, I know what they do to me. They relive the ache and chase away the cold bite from the autumn breeze that cuts through my loose shirt. I have known for years that he would never truly leave me, that I will always love him in a strange way. But seeing all of this, and discovering that even when I might have had a chance to save him, there was no chance so long as Elara loved him too.
“The game is beginning. Line up your pieces if you want to play chess.” I murmur to him before stepping around him and heading for the viewing deck. I pause long enough to glance at him over my shoulder though and say, “but just know, it’s hard to beat an opponent that knows every move you will make.”
(/Cal/)
Mare finds me between meetings. Her dark hair is swept up in an elaborate hairstyle she picks at nervously, drawing strands out to frame her face. Glancing over my shoulder at the remainder of the council as they pass, I pause before her long enough to say colorlessly, “Is something wrong Lady Titanos?”
The few sets of eyes that watch us look away with shrugs. Their ears are probably still tuned in, but as far as they are concerned, she is probably looking for Maven and happened to find me first.
“Farley made contact. The Hexaprin Theater just like before.”
She’s been gone most of the day with Maven, making appearances and smiling like the dutiful princess she is. I’m not sure how Farley could have possibly made contact with her during all of that, but it’s a relief she didn’t contact Maven first. Meanwhile, I’ve been locked up in Whitefire. My father has hardly let me out of his sight, which I suppose should be understandable. The attempt on my life shook him to his core. Even though I push back, insisting they wouldn’t try again, he refuses to let me leave the castle walls. I don’t know how I will get out to join Mare in this endeavor like she wants with the Sentinels that trail me almost everywhere I go. I guess it now truly understand how Mare felt during her time with us. I don’t blame her for constantly being irritable now.
Still, my brow rises as the name of the theater. I know it well. When I was younger Julian used to take me to plays and tried to pique my interest in the art form. I had squirmed in my seat the whole time, eager to get out of the dark space and run outside. He gave up once I turned ten, realizing I didn’t have much love for the arts. I knew it saddened him, that he had hoped I shared the same soft spot for them that my mother did.
My chest tightens at the thought of my uncle. I got him out of Archeon earlier than before, helping him and Sara smuggle away in the dead of night after he got Farley and Kilorn out of the cells. I sent him to Montfort with instructions to speak with Dane Davidson as soon as possible. To try and get him in contact with Guard. There’s no telling if they made it. I can only hope they managed to cross the border.
“It’ll be tough for me to get out.”
“This will only work if you come with me.” Mare insists, her eyes darting past my elbow to the doors of the council chamber. I know who she’s looking for, but she won’t find him.
“He’s seeing to something with his mother.” I instruct, even as I glance around just to be certain. Only a servant passes in a flutter of skirts. She curtsies to me and Mare before hurrying along, obviously loath to be around us any longer than necessary.
“The bloodbase.” Mare’s voice drops to a worried waver as she sets her hand on her pocket. I know she has the book hidden in the pocket of her jacket, the one Julian gifted her with the name of every Ardent he found within Norta’s borders. She sleeps with it under her pillow, her fingers curled around the faded cover as if Maven will creep into her room at night and steal it away.
Shaking my head, I grab her elbow and pull her into an alcove when I hear the sound of more steps approaching. I squeeze into the space between the pillars with her until our bodies almost have to become one to fit. Her hands rest on my chest as she evens out her breathing, recognizing a hiding place when she sees it.
A group of nobles pass us, Osanos and Iral judging by the colors of their clothes. I purse my lips and wait until they leave the hall to look back down at her and whisper. “I took care of it. I printed out all their names and wiped them from the database. They’re safe.”
“Unless Maven is already going after them.” Mare mutters bitterly.
“He hasn’t. I checked last known whereabouts too. Everyone is accounted for.”
“People lie on those stupid records Cal.”
“Not when you’re the first person in years to click on the page.” I let my lips curl into a knowing smile. She can think I’m stupid and hardheaded all she wants, but I do know my way around my own world. “There is a clicker at the bottom of each record to indicate the last time it was opened. I am the first one to look at them in years. You can’t lie to that program.”
She expels a breath, before look up at me through her lashes. “You’re too stubborn for your own good. We’re meddling too much now.”
“At this point, does it really matter?” I ask, repeating words I spoke to Julian in the dead of night when he questioned my decision to send him to Ascendent.
Her lips draw into a tight line that pales her already painted lips. “No.” She agrees before sliding out of the alcove so I can follow her.
When we step into the light, I watch the shifting sunbeams as they cut across her face. She crosses her arms before looking down the hallway and saying, “We need to get into the afternoon showing. Can you do that?”
I grimace thinking about my father and the hawk like eyes he has kept on me recently. “It’ll be difficult, but nothing I can’t handle.”
“Do you want to rehearse with me?” She teases, eyes lighting with laughter when she notices how I chew on my lower lip.
“I think I’ll tell my father that I’ve decided Evangeline can take a long walk off a short pier and that I much prefer you and I plan to make heirs with you as soon as we enter than theater box.”
Her eye widen and a blush paints her cheeks. It’s so ferocious the makeup almost can’t hide it. It makes me chuckle before reaching a hand out to cup her jaw and stroke a thumb along that warm puddle of red staining her skin. “Kidding love. Although I think that he’ll be so surprised and horrified that he lets me go just to see if I’m serious.”
“Mess up my nice skirts Tiberias and I will take your hands for it.” She snorts before pulling away and throwing a smirk over her shoulder. “Get us tickets to the show and be there with me. Also, it might be a good idea to assign Walsh to a... different part of Whitefire.”
I grimace, remembering the last time I saw her foaming at the mouth while I tried to close her throat to keep the poison from spreading. I sent her for Mare, trusted her with the secret that I met a Red girl in the Stilts and cared. Regardless of what Mare might have thought of me before when that moment passed, I did care. A part of me had been horrified to watch the light leave Walsh’s eyes.
“I’ll make sure of it.” I whisper.
(/Mare/)
The theater darkens, and I sink back into my chair, keeping an eye on the Sentinels standing in the doorway. They are here to protect Cal. Allowances had to be made so that he could leave Whitefire, but its an allowance that may cost us our meeting with Farley. There are more of them than before, but they’re simply a hinderance, one that will have to be dealt with at some point very soon.
Honestly, Maven and Elara trying to kill him has simply become an annoyance now. If they hadn’t, it would be so much easier to sneak around with Cal.
“They have to go.” I murmur, letting my eyes flint to them as I edge a little closer to the railing of the box and glance over it into the crowd below.
With a quick nod, Cal leans back in his seat. Before Maven gave the secretary that came with us a mischievous smile and quick order to get rid of our tail. Cal can do no such thing without raising suspicion. It’s already gotten out that I am the one that shouted his name and stopped the bleeding during the Sun Shooting long enough for Sara Skonos to get to him and save him. But Cal spread a faster rumor behind it, his words burning like wildfire through the High Houses, erasing the rumor I know Elara started about us. My shout hadn’t been in fear according to his account, it had sounded like nerves. Maybe I’d lost Maven in the crowd and gotten overwhelmed by the proceedings, and when I had seen Cal I called to him for help. Because of that, I had been close enough to stop the bleeding when the gun went off.
I had been shocked at the lie he told with an abandon to his father and the court, and how well he crafted it on a moment’s notice. Perhaps he needed to stop spending so much time around Dane. I had noticed that crafty man spending a suspicious amount of time trying to craft Cal into a better Statesman in the recent years.
“Sentinel Osanos, if you could take the others into the antechamber.” He nods over his shoulder to the small sitting room attached to the box. “I doubt you and the others have any interest in this show and your presence is unfortunately ruining Lady Mareena’s first impressions of it too.”
“I have my orders, sir.” The Sentinel warns, his eyes darting between the two of us.
“I can handle anything that comes.” Cal lets his lips quirk into an arrogant smile. I haven’t seen it in a long time, but it’s one of the few soldiers masks in his arsenal. It still makes my stomach flutter. “Besides, Lady Mareena has proven herself quite capable of saving my life if need be.”
Osanos debates it for a very long second as the murmurs below us quiet and the curtain rustles with the start of the performance. During that second, my heart pounds. I don’t dare look up at the grating above out heads where I know Will Whistle will appear.
“Of course, Your Highness.” The Sentinel bows his head and then nods to bring the others with him into the room. The door clicks shut, and the lock engages. I grab Cal’s hand and squeeze it in silent praise, before glancing at him side on.
“Impressive.”
His smile falls as he looks away from the door and forward again. “We’ll have to be silent. We’re lucky my father didn’t send an Eagrie with us.”
Unfolding from his position in the chair to relax further, he turns his hand over to lace his fingers with mine. The touch sends waves of reassurance through me. Now we just have to keep him hidden long enough that Will doesn’t recognize him and gets us to Farley. After that, I’m not quite sure what we will do.
“Farley won’t let you on the Undertrain without a fight.” I murmur, glancing at our joined hands. He sweeps his thumb along my skin in a soothing motion even as his eyes stay forward on the stage as it comes to life.
Gentle touches in the dark, so very like how our relationship started. It almost makes me snicker. I suppose things never really did change between us.
He doesn’t reply to my comment, but I know he’s thinking about it all the same. His palm heats with his frustration, but he doesn’t show it on his face.
I let my eyes wander to the stage where I finally get a look at the play I never watched before. Brightly colored costumes dance across the stage and I tilt my head to look at them, trying to understand the story. “We never went to any of the plays in Ascendent.” I murmur to him.
There were plenty of playhouses, and I know for a fact Julian got us tickets to one he loved. We never got the chance to go, but now I wish we had.
“I’ve never been a fan of theater.” He chuckles and finally turns to look at me. He traded his finer regalia for a more toned down jacket and black shirt today. With the aid of the darkness, I can almost imagine we are in Ascendent, that it’s just another weekend and we decided to do something we’ve never done.
“Then when you annoy me, I am going to drag you to shows when we get back and tie you to a chair so you can’t leave.” I say with a smirk.
The ceiling panel above our heads slides away, and his eyes dart up at the same time as mine. We’re both accustomed to how the Guard functions. The sudden disappearance of the tile doesn’t surprise him like it did Maven.
“Show time.” I whisper to him before dropping his hand and stepping on the seat of my chair. Grasping the edge of the hole I haul myself up into the darkness. When I glance down to help him though, he is already half-way into the crawl space with me. The panel slides into place as soon as Cal vanishes in the shadows. I wait half a second for Will to sound an alarm to notice that I don’t have the right prince with me.
He does no such thing, simply speaks into the darkness the same words he did before. “Be quick and quiet. I’ll take you from here.”
I reach for Cal’s wrist in the dark and grip it tightly with a reassuring squeeze. Will turns and begins to climb through the space, not waiting for us to follow.
“Watch your head,” I instruct as I skirt the edge of the ceiling panel. “It gets low in a few places.”
Cal grunts in understanding but follows at a pace that surprises me. It was a tight squeeze for Maven, so I don’t really know how Cal manages but he does. I’m sure he has Farley’s work with him to thank for that. He crawled through enough sewer tunnels and drains with us while we were at the Notch after all. I’m sure while I was locked away with Maven he was doing the same thing too.
The sounds of the play overhead mask our movements as we drop down ladders and steps and through little trapdoors. Cal only smacks his head once, and I flip around to grab his head to check for blood when he curses soundly in the dark. I grimace when I feel the nasty knot already taking shape on his forehead near his hairline. That will have to be explained away when we get back, but we really truly don’t have time to assess it too much. Will sets grueling pace, and Cal practically shoves me forward when the Whistle almost disappears around a turn.
It takes only minutes for us to drop into the access tunnels that connect to the Undertrain platform. The damp chill of the space presses through my thin jacket and pants, reminding me of the march we did into Archeon to save Cal and everyone from the Lakelander invasion. Cal drops lightly down behind me though, and instantly the space warms and the memory fades. It’s still too dark to see his features clearly which is only to our advantage. I can’t have Will trying to stop us now.
That cover does not last long though. The platform is haunted by a lone torch, and when Will turns around with a sharp smile, ready to bask in our surprise, his eyes widen as he takes in Cal behind me. I set my hand on Cal’s chest in response, trying to push him back into the shadows while I light my hand with lightning.
Will never gets a chance to act though, the furious screech of the Undertrain as it rushes into the station shakes the walls and announces Farley’s arrival. As it coasts to a stop in front of us, Will spins to the doors and waves his arms while trying to shout over the screeching of the brakes to give a signal to not stop. The train grinds to a halt though, and the doors still open to spill more light onto the platform.
Farley unfolds from the chair like a spring let loose. Her hand flies to the gun at her hip, and I spin to face her with my lightning at the same time. Even with my ears ringing from the sound of the brakes engaging, I can hear the click of her turning the safety off as she draws the gun.
“Farley—” I try to shout, but Cal beats me to speaking, his voice a dangerous warning echoing in the tunnel as he glares Farley down.
“Diana, stop.”
He would have gotten the same reaction if he burned her alive. Farley’s eyes widen at the usage of her birthname, and her fingers wavers on the trigger long enough for me to speak.
“He’s with us.” I urge as I drop my hand, but I don’t dismiss the lightning bouncing between my fingers like webbing. It’s my own warning to her. She knows what I can do, and like her, I don’t miss anymore.
Her laugh is unexpected, and I almost jump at the sharp bite of it. She keeps the gun raised, but her fingers slides from the trigger to rest alongside the barrel. It’s the only sign she is still listening to us. “The little prince was right. He’s whispered his way into your head.”
“The only ones whispering into anyone’s heads is Maven and Elara .” Cal speaks quietly, his eyes scanning the track and the platform for any more Scarlet Guard operatives. There are none to be seen though.
Farley tilts her head to the side, her eyes narrowing to diamond colored slits. Her jaw tightens, but she doesn’t pull the trigger or even move her finger in the direction of it.
I expel a slow sigh of relief and take a step forward. I can feel the burn of electricity in the train, screaming like an upset toddler to be released. Gritting my teeth against the heachache forming because of it, I murmur, “you trusted me to get you out of that cell, trust me in this Farley. Hear us out.”
Her eyes moves past my shoulder to Cal who staggers his stance to move in either direction if he has to avoid her bullet. Her jaw ticks, and the electricity reaches an all time high pitch that stands my hairs on end. I haven’t felt anything like it weeks, not since the shield during Queenstrial exploded around me and tried to contain me.
“Make your decision, the Undertrain won’t wait.” I grimace as I reach up to press my fingers to my temple where the ache is strongest. If she notices my use of the train’s name, she doesn’t say anything.
Cal takes a step forward, stealing ground, only for Farley train that gun on him again and rest her finger on the trigger.
“Not another step, Your Highness.” She squeezes gently, putting enough pressure on that trigger that even the slightest movment on her part will fire the gun. I side step to put myself in front of Cal should she overestimate her abilities, but Cal simply pushes me to the side again.
With quick movements he unclasps the bracelets around his wrists and holds them up to the light for Farley to see. “Incentive,” he murmurs before tossing them in her direction. She lowers the gun to catch them one handed, almost dropping them due to their weight. I inch forward, my hand extended for them in surprise. I trust Cal to make a tactical decision, but he just threw his own tactical advantage five feet away from him.
The metal bands glint dully in the odd florescent lights of the Undertrain, but Farley glances down at them, unimpressed. With a quirked brow she raises the gun again, although its much more hesitant this time.
“I’m nothing without them.” Cal instructs while he sweeps his arms out from his sides as if to accentuate his point. “Keep them until we finish talking if it pleases you. But we do have to talk.”
“I know.” Farley reasons, her eyes narrowing before darting between the two of us. Even if I didn’t know her as well as I do, I could see the distrust and unease in her eyes. I can’t imagine what Maven has told her, but I know that he hasn’t spoken to her since before the Sun Shooting. It is our only advantage right now, that and the fact that Julian and I were the ones to get her and Kilorn out of the cells below the palace. It doesn’t hurt either that by the time we got down to the cells, the king was more concerned with his son almost dying than the rebels trapped in the cell before him. There had been no time for the interrogation that I know almost cost Farley her arm. She got off easy, too easy, because of us.
Whatever battle she is fighting with herself ends, and she steps to the side to let us pass.
(////)
Narcery is more disheveled than I remember. Perhaps it’s because I’ve already seen most of it repaired and turned into a decent city again years from now. Or maybe it’s because I’ve truly forgotten how downtrodden the world was before we began to right it. Either way, it’s hard not to grimace as we slink through the streets toward the café Farley stomps toward.
The Reds in the doorwards gasp and whisper as Cal passes, and I reach down to grip his hand. None of them are New Blood that I know of, but if someone gets it in their head to finish was Farley started, they won’t make it more than two steps.
He gives me a reassuring squeeze as we pass through the crumbling doorway of the café and into the dimly lit space. In his little booth, Kilorn practically almost leaps to his feet, his eyes wide while his hand flies to the gun on his belt.
“Stand down.” Farley orders smoothly, earning a frown from my friend. He doesn’t immediately listen, but his fingers eventually relax and drop back to his side. I release the tension in my shoulders in response. The air in the room shifts with the change in heat and static that Cal and I bring, but the ice in Kilorn’s gaze might as well be tangible too.
“And why haven’t we shot him?” He asks Farley as she drops into the booth.
With a wave of her hand, she dismisses him and glares in our direction. Cal’s bracelets clink against the dusty table as she sets them out in the open. With a tilt of her head, her expression relaxes and the nasty scar cutting through her lip softens. It never ceases to amaze me how young she really was when this all started. We were all still just children, playing games we never should have.
“They want to speak,” she says, her eyes dropping to our entwined hands. “And I have to admit I am curious what excuse Mare will give to explain blowing our entire operation to pieces.”
“We hardly blew it to pieces, you were almost completely successful.” Cal huffs behind me, and I dig my elbow into his side in response. No use pissing off Farley, or enticing her to pull that gun out again. We both know she will too.
Glaring at Cal for his comment, I address the other two sitting in the booth. “Maven gave you Cal’s name, but he was not the original target.”
“No,” Farley agrees, “he wasn’t.”
“It was Ptolemus Samos.” I turn my eyes back to her, and am rewards with a quirked brow, the only sign she is surprised by my knowledge. Kilorn is not as good at hiding his emotions. His brows dart up towards his hair line as he shakes his head in disbelief.
“You missed that meeting, the one where he gave us the original names! He told us that he never told you them... you can’t possibly have known—”
“I know because I’ve already been through that shooting before. You don’t get Ptolemus that time either.” I step forward and leave Cal behind me, safely in the line of my body. If Farley wants to shoot him at any point in time, she’ll have to shoot me first. “The Sun Shooting was a disaster that time, and it was a disaster this time.”
Kilorn blinks at me, confusion sweeping over his face now. Farley is simply more skeptical, and rightfully so. I didn’t exactly explain anything, just created more questions and puzzling conclusions for her.
“What are you getting at Barrow?” She murmurs as her eyes dart to the broken window behind me. I don’t dare look at who might be there. If its Shade, I will never be able to leave these ruins.
“You have to promise to listen to us, to let us explain as quickly as possible.” Cal speaks for me and the heat that rolls off of him washes over me as he steps closer, soothing tense muscles I bunch in preparation to run. His hand presses into my lower back only a second later. “We don’t have much time.”
Farley’s eyes narrow even further as she takes in how we stand next to each other, and how we remain close enough to protect the other at all times. Even if Maven told her that I was slowly teetering toward Cal, our body language suggests a deeper relationship and understanding of each other than could ever be established in a few weeks. Not to mention Cal knew her name, her real name. There’s no way in hell he could have found that out on his own.
“Who are you?” She asks quietly after a moment, earning a worried glance from Kilorn.
My lips curl into a slow smile as I take in her uncertainty. I can’t remember the last time Farley was on the backfoot. She has always been so headstrong and driven, but she reels back now, like a horse seeing a snake under its hooves. “We’ve all met before, and known each other for years.”
“Bullshit.” She says, pushing to her feet and advancing on me. Cal’s fingers curl around my arm to pull me behind him. I stand my ground though and raise my chin as she stand over me.
“How’s your dad? The Colonel? Has that eye healed up yet?” I ask with a quirked brow. Her breathing fluctuates at the mention of him while she stops dead in her tracks. Her eyes dart to Cal as if to assess how much he reacts to my words. He does nothing but glance down at me and drop my arm, catching on to what I’m doing. Farley won’t be bought over with a cute story like what we told Julian and Sara. She will need cold hard evidence, painful evidence if need be.
“It’s kind of cute that you decided your code name would be lamb, since his is ram.” I tilt my head to the side, earning an strangled inhale as she backpaddles. “Even more so given how infuriating he can be for you.”
Her whole face goes red, and tips of her ears tinge pink immediately. Kilorn opens his mouth to say something, thinks better of it, and closes it again. I don’t blame him, the fury in Farley’s eyes is enough to burn me to the ground.
With her lips pressed into a firm line, she presses her shoulders back to stand to her full height. “Are you Command?” She asks stiffly, her eyes roaming over me and settling on Cal when he barks out a dry laugh.
I elbow him again and shoot a glare, but he laughs at my expression. Turning his amusement on Farley, he says, “no. I’m not even on the list of people they would open a position for.”
“We know those in Command though.” I shoot a single spark into Cal’s arm to shut him up, making him snap back and rub the spot.
“I don’t believe you. Its not possible.” Farley growls setting her hand on her gun.
“I would appreciate you not drawing that gun Diana.” Cal warns his amusement dying as fast as my comfort with the situation.
“Who told you my name.”
“I know it from previous experience.”
“Don’t see how that’s possible.” Kilorn grumbles before rising from the booth as well. His eyes dart between the two of us, and as he starts to form his own opinon the curiosity in his eyes bleeds away into brittle resentment.
“Like I said, we’ve known each other for years.” I push past my locked jaw. This is starting to look next to impossible but if we have any hope of saving ourselves from the disaster to come, then we have to get them to listen to us.
“To be more clear, we will know each other for years someday.” I correct my previous statement quietly, letting the words hang in the too heavy air for a few seconds. Farley quirks a brow, realization crossing her features as she starts to put things together. She’s always been quick as a whip, and that works to our advantage.
Right when I think she’s about to say something though, she laughs. Kilorn blinks at her, taking a hesitant step away. I doubt he’s ever heard the sound, but I know it well. It still cracks on the edges the same way it does in the future. Honestly, it always sounds like she never laughs, even though I know for a fact she does that more than anything someday.
“Barrow, I have seen what you can do. And while it turned everything I knew about the world upside down… you cannot expect me to also factor some form of time travel into this whole mess.” She shakes her head, and dismisses me with a wave. Still laughing to herself she sinks down into the booth, and takes to fiddling with Cal’s bracelets. There is a hint of uncertainty behind her eyes though, and I know exactly who and what she is thinking about.
“There are hundreds—thousands like me Farley. You haven’t met all of them yet, but there are abilities far stranger than mine. My brother’s for instance.”
Her expression pulls tight for a heartbeat before she smoothers the emotion. I pull on that line though, and step forward, pointedly ignoring Kilorn who is still gapping like a fish and trying to come to the same conclusion as Farley. “I know he’s alive, and that he’s here with you. He jumps, appearing in different places in seconds. I make lightning. There will be a New Town girl who becomes our friend that can kill you with a thought and silence Silvers in the same way. There are three other Reds just like me in Montfort. There is a girl who can bathe everyone in a bubble of silence so no one outside of it can hear you. Another woman can remember every single thing she reads or that is said to her. Another older woman can change her face to be whoever you need her to be.” My heart squeezes at the memory of all the Ardents I rescued and then sent to their deaths. I promised them safety, security, and then pulled all of that away from them. All because one man told me I had to do it. “Is it so hard to believe then that there is someone years from now who can send people back in time?”
Those diamond eyes snap to me and look me over before Farley’s lips twist into a half sneer. “Your brother is dead Barrow, he was executed for—”
“Farley, please.” I whisper, coming to stand over her. Even sitting she is almost as tall as me, but I channel every ounce of military prowess she tried to teach me as I glare down at her. “If I walk out of this room, I will find him in less than an hour, and you will feel incredibly stupid when I do.”
Her lips pale as she pushes them together, tighter than ever before. Her eyes dance to Cal beyond me again, who has thankfully kept his mouth shut this whole time and has decided to simply sit on the edge of a table to watch us.
“He came with me.” I soften my tone and slowly sink down into the seat opposite her. Her eyes follow me like a rabbit would a wolf. Her fingers are cold when I take them, even with how warm it is in the room. She doesn’t pull away though, and I wonder if somewhere, her future self recognizes my touch. “I need you to trust us. I know how hard that is with everything that has happened, but Farley you have to.”
“Do we win?” She asks the question so quietly, I almost miss it while I’m speaking. Every muscle in body tenses against the truth that wants to escape though. I glance at Cal, wondering if he heard the same thing as me. He simply looks down at his boots, unable to offer any aid.
Swallowing past the rock in my throat, I look down at the table top. It’s dusty and cracked in some places. But it has no answers either. We have already done so much to destroy the path we were supposed to be on, what was one more change? “Yes,” I whisper and her eyes flash bright and wide.
“But we pay may terrible prices for it.” The last part almost doesn’t make it out. Shade’s death tries to claw that statement to ribbons, Archeon burning, and all the people we lost in the Harbor Bay siege and the final Archeon siege weigh heavy against my chest. The silence stretches to the breaking point around us as those memories consume me. I wish I could take back those words, swallow them and refrain from admitting to what I’m sure she suspects. She must read the memories as they pass across my face because her expression softens a hint.
“Its war Barrow,” the Farley I know so well comes to the surface when she switches her grip to grab my hands instead. “I never expected to win for free.”
She narrows her eyes at Cal then, who simply gives her a tight nod she doesn’t return. “I still don’t like you.” She announces a second later. “And I hope I never do.”
“You give me a hard time for years, I promise you that much.” He teases, some of the light returning to his eyes. I crack a weak smile at their banter, even though I ache at the reminder of the future relationship they share. Farley never does let him off the hook, and every chance she has to remind him of his past, she does. I don’t blame her though, she never lets herself get too congenial with anyone.
“We trust him… just like that?” Kilorn tries to burn a hole between Cal’s eyes with his glare. He doesn’t succeed, especially when Cal smirks at him and leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He’s the picture of ease, and I know that drives Kilorn insane.
“Relax Kilorn,” I tease, and then beckon Cal over to me. “He knows that if he steps out of line I won’t hesitate to put him back in his place.”
Farley glances between the two of us before saying, “So the second prince wasn’t lying. You two are…”
“In this together.” Cal finishes for her. His eyes narrow at what Maven might have inferred even as he looks down at me for confirmation.
“We don’t have time to get into details,” I add, making room for him in the booth as I lean forward to start drawing a map of Archeon in the dust on the table. “Maven and his mother know what we know. Which means they have been pulling the strings and trying to sabotage any advantage we have. They will not hesitate to wipe the Scarlet Guard off the map this time around.”
“I don’t understand.” Kilorn grumbles and crosses his arms tightly across his chest. “I thought we trusted that prince?”
“Maven is the one we have to worry about.” I finish drawing the bridge and narrow my eyes at the crude drawing. “He was always going to betray us.”
“How?” Farley sneers, obviously not happy with me inferring that she made a mistake in judgement. Maven was her recruit after all. “He’s given us names, information.”
“All fed to him by his mother, who is counting on us tomorrow night staging a coup and failing so that she can murder the king and remove you and any true Scarlet Guard opposition.” I murmur and watch as Farley’s fury melts into horrible understanding. My stomach drops but Cal speaks before I can.
“He’s already spoken with you and made the plan.” His voice is cold, even while the space around us starts to burn with the heat he releases. My own lightning wants to be unleashed as well. It takes more effort than I like to reign it in. I was wrong. He did speak with her, about more than just me and Cal.
“He said Barrow would try to come to me and change my mind, that I had to know she was in collusion with you and planned to stand by your side when the time came. That she would ultimately betray me.” Farley breathes, her eyes widening. “He said that the coup was the only way we would win, remove you two in one swoop.”
“He and Elara were counting you believing him wholly and me not bringing Cal.” I growl, and swipe my hand through the map on the table to erase it. The plan is useless at this point. Maven already took it and molded it to his needs. I should have never spoken to him on the barge, maybe I should have just continued to pretend I was some stupid girl that didn’t know how to play the game. I may have destroyed any hope we had of beating him and Elara now.
“They also aren’t counting on us having any other plan. Or my support.” Cal murmurs before drawing his own map in the dirt. The angle is far different from what I drew. “They don’t know that I know the future or that I am with you all. They think Mare is the only one.” His finger moves through the dust and Kilorn finally edges closer to see what he draws.
“So we play into their hands.” He murmurs as he glances at me for my support.
“What?” I wheeze as I watch him draw the same offensive we instigated last time. “Cal, if we do that—”
“Then it all goes the way it did before, with the added benefit that when you get captured this time, we can stop Elara. We know what’s coming and we can plan for it.” Cal finishes drawing his map before drawing a second more detailed map of the Whitefire next to it. “This time, we won’t be alone in that room.”
I struggle to keep up with his thought process, trying to determine exactly how he plans to make this work. The only way Farley and the other Scarlet Guard members will make it into that room is in shackles like me. Elara will slaughter us all like pigs then.
“The tunnels run under Whitefire right?” He asks Farley who hesitates for a second before nodding tersely. He etches a few makeshifts ones into the picture and then sits back to say, “when I take Mare captive for treason, you and a small unit will move through the tunnels and get to the throne room. From there, you wait for a signal Mare and I will give. When that happens, we take Elara and Maven.”
“Bold.” Farley murmurs as she glances over the plan. “And suicidal. We’ll never make it in.”
“You will if I don’t station anyone at a specific entrance. Name it, and I will keep the regiments away from it.” Cal waves his hand over the picture and glances forlornly in my direction. “If it fails, we still go to the Bowl of Bones, but this time we’ll know what to expect.”
My heart pounds in my chest as the memory of the too thin sand shifting beneath my feet almost overtakes me. Even though it is years behind me and days ahead of me, the heat of Cal’s fire trying to catch on the sand still burns my cheeks and my stomach twists at the echoing sound of the bar punching through Arven’s chest.
“In the meantime, you need to evacuate Tuck.” I whisper forcing the bile down as I look up at Farley. She blanches at the command, but I narrow my eyes to silence her. “Elara has seen in my mind. She knows about Tuck, she knows about a number of other Scarlet Guard strongholds like Narcery too. Did you not find it strange that Maven was not afraid to travel to a supposed heavily radiated place?”
She opens her mouth to argue with me, only to shut it like a trap and narrow her eyes. The thought never occurred to her, and I understand why. He probably got on the Undertrain and immediately started spilling honey and poison in her ear until she couldn’t even hear herself think. I can’t blame her for anything, he did the same to me, and I lapped at it like a starving child.
“Where will we go?” Kilorn whispers anxiously, his eyes darting to the street outside, as if a regiment might come marching down it right now. I don’t blame him. My friend is brave, always has been and always will be, but a Silver regiment is no laughing matter to him yet.
Cal stiffens next to me and says, “Irabella is the only safe haven. Mare was never there, but I was.”
“Why—”
“I doesn’t matter.” I interrupt Kilorn, and lean forward to speak again. “You just have to trust us. Tell the Colonel you have reason to believe Tuck and a number of other bases have been compromised. That an informate you have high up in the palace you trust explicitly told you that. The Notch is not safe either.”
Farley’s eyes widen, and it is then I realize that the mention of that safe haven is what finally secures her trust. The Notch was her hiding hole. Not one her father came up with. Command might not have even known about it. If what Cal and I said was true, and we were her allies in the future, she may have taken us there at some point. I wish I would have been smart enough to start with the mention of it. We could have saved time.
“And you need to start finding the others like me.” I whisper, as I pull the book out of my jacket pocket and set it on the table. The cover gleams against the dusty surface of the table, and I almost can’t pull my fingers off of it. The fates of so many reside inside of it. Cameron’s furious expression flashes through my mind as I ordered her taken onto the Blackrun. I will not force her into anything this time though. I only hope I don’t have to rescue her from a prison though.
I slide the book to Farley and trail my fingers off the cover as I whisper, “Maven and Elara might already be on the hunt for the Ardents in here, but I circled the names of the people that we rescued together. He will target them first if he is going after them, so you have to beat him to it.”
She picks up the book gingerly before looking between us and saying, “you mentioned the Bowl of Bones.”
Cal smiles wearily but leans back with the poise of a general to say, “we won’t have to worry about it. We’re going to avoid that point all together.”
Farley’s fears are not soothed by Cal’s confidence, and I can almost see the spikes she wants to drive through his eyes. At least she nods though, agreeing with him for the time being. I can’t even begin to express the relief that courses through me as she puts the book in her own pocket and nods once more.
“Then we will go with your signal.”
#The Chain#my writing#my fanfics#red queen#glass sword#kings cage#war storm#broken throne#post broken throne#holy shit#okay we're back on it#we're also rapidly approaching oh shit territory#but its gonna be so much FUN#enjoy children#marecal#the eternal ship#they're so smart and so stupid at the same time#I love them#enjoy everyone#sorry it took so long to get out#I got distracted#we love that ADHD life
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The Chain (Part 10)
Main concept: Two love struck idiots get sent back to a pretty UGH time period in their lives (that required me to reread all the books again) and have to hide the fact that they know everything.
Find the rest of the fic here: part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9
Tag list: @delilahlbard, @king-maven-calore, @thatoddgirl777, @elliekratzzz, @evangelineartemiasamos, @evangeline-of-montfort, @scxrletguardsdawn, @freaky-freiday, @petergrantkavinsky, @kuwei, @whatsup-gorls, @katiemoore, @redqueenetwork, @tranquil-dusk (I’m trying to add you but for some reason it wont @… the same problem happens with @thatoddgirl777 and I have no idea how to fix it)
(/Mare/)
I’ve been freed from Protocol for the time being. Cal pulls the same strings as last time, and I am put into Training. It makes my blood sing to know that I am going to be joining him there too. One more place where we can protect each other and plan without anyone knowing. We are a secret, united front that the Silver’s will never see coming.
It’s been a week since my first meeting with Farley. I almost expected Maven not to show up to join us, but just as he did before, he appeared out of the shadows with the servant Holland. He was just as full of the righteous fire I remembered, smiling at me and promising things he will never give. Swearing fealty to Farley and her cause for the good of everyone. I wish I had the courage to ask him if he had meant those things.
I’d gone back to my rooms cold and shaken, feeling in all senses of the word numb. Walsh had to practically guide me back to avoid me taking wrong turns and getting lost. In bed, I drown in the memories of the future that I am rapidly stumbling towards, trying to keep my head up as the tides suck me deeper. I toss and turn for hours, kicking the blankets off before pulling them back on when I wake from my hazy doze shivering uncontrollably because of invisible silent stone walls.
I’d slipped through the secret door in my closet and felt my way through the dark tunnel to Cal’s rooms. It was silent in them, not even the sound of his breathing disturbed the space. Sure enough, his bed was empty and neatly made. He wasn’t even in Summerton. I’d sunk onto the bed before slipping under the blankets and burying myself in his smell.
I’d woken to warm hands lifting me out of the blankets. Gripping his shirt, I’d whispered sleepily to him as he carried me back to my rooms. His voice was soft as he’d replied with a gentle, “you’re fine. I’ve got you.” I had to enter my room alone though, just to avoid the cameras seeing him.
Now standing in the training room a week later, I still can’t shake the blanket of cold that envelopes me. Dread pools in my stomach the closer we get to the Ball and the closer I get to those names Maven will deliver. Everything is working perfectly, I have no reason to worry. And yet, a part of me quivers with nerves. Maven is as charming as ever, but something bubbles behind his eyes. Maybe it’s because I know what to look for now and I see it. But I had been just as untrustworthy the first time around. I would have seen it then too.
Standing off to the side with my arms crossed I watch the young Silvers prepare for a session of tearing each other apart. Inhaling slowly, I take in the scent of the freshly washed matts and the summer breeze from the open windows. It’s been sweltering for the past few days, and sure enough a bead of sweat rolls down between my shoulder blades, tracing the track of my spine.
On the other side of the training room, Cal catches my eye. He quirks a brow before pushing off the wall he’s leaning against. Strolling across the room, he tucks his hands into the pockets of his training jacket. When we’re standing side by side he rolls his shoulders a few times and says, “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there a few nights ago.”
“You were off being a crown prince.” I say and wave my hand for emphasis, “doing crown prince things.” My lips quirk up a little bit at the edges when his frown deepens. I haven’t teased him much since we got stuck here, I forgot how much fun it is.
“I won’t lie; I did think someone put a dead body in my bed.”
“Don’t be dramatic.” I tease him, hiding my smile behind my hand. On the other side of the room, Evangeline holds court around the targets. She hasn’t made any moves like she did in the breakfast room weeks ago, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have something planned. If I recall, today is dueling day, and this was when she decided to take a piece out of my face.
“Hard for him not be, he’s so very good at it.” Maven’s voice cuts the air between us like a knife. I spin to face him quickly, throwing up a smile to hide the fear that rushes through me. He tilts his head to the side and smiles as well. “What is he being dramatic about now?”
Cal clears his throat, and hides his discomfort with a laugh. Setting his hand on Maven’s shoulder and squeezing he says lightly, “something to do with Shadow Legion. It’s been… difficult.”
If Maven is fooled by our game, I cannot tell. A part of me sends a silent prayer that he didn’t hear anything. But a smarter part of me chastises myself for even falling prey to my fears and searching out Cal. Have I doomed us with my little slip up?
“So I’ve heard, has Rhambos been giving you trouble again?” Maven grins at Cal in the way only brother’s sharing a private joke can.
“You have no idea.” Cal’s relief is near invisible, and I have to force my own to be that way as Maven comes to stand next to me. His eyes dart to me and he gives me a small, tentative smile. I return it, wondering exactly what is going through his mind. What I wouldn’t give to be a Whisper just so I can know if we are in the clear.
He turns his eyes forward as Arven calls Tirana forward to duel. His name comes next, and as he leaves my side, the little bubble of heat I didn’t notice him exuding leaves with him. His shoulders are tense as he steps into the makeshift arena to face the nymph. Next to me, Cal’s hands clench into fists.
When he comes sulking out, dripping water all over the floor, his eyes are burning. They dart to me and soften for a heartbeat before hardening once more. Mercifully, Cal keeps his mouth shut and turns to watch the next match when Maven steps in between us. The air crackles with heat, and a few of the other Silvers take a step back, making it appear as if they are simply interested in something else.
“Nothing to say?” Maven murmurs when Cal continues to sit in silence. My eyes dart to them, and my hand slowly closes in a fist at my side.
“There’s nothing to say.”
“You always have something to say, forgive me if it’s a surprise when you don’t.” Maven turns those eyes on Cal, and I imagine his stare could turn Cal into a puddle of human parts if he weren’t a burner as well. He’s instigating, something I never saw him do. Or maybe it’s happened before and I never got the chance to see it. Cal makes no move to show me panic, so maybe Maven being this bitter has occurred sometime in the past before I met them. Maybe nothing is wrong and he’s picking a fight because he’s upset about the embarrassment of his loss.
Straightening his shoulders, Cal turns a neutral look onto Maven, sweeping him over with his eyes. “You could have beat her if you had given her a bit more space. You were stronger than her the whole fight.” Cal assures, his eyes dancing to me for a moment. We both know that isn’t what he said last time. But this didn’t occur last time, and without a script Cal struggles.
Maven’s entire body tenses, even as his expression cools. It’s such an odd contradiction that I’m not quite sure what will happen next. Reaching out, I close my hand around his wrist and squeeze. He’s cold as ice, and I shiver involuntarily as my skin makes contact with his. I don’t know why I expected heat.
His flips around to look at my hand, his lips pursed in a tight line. I swallow my grimace and offer him a gentle, knowing smile.
“There will be more fights. More important fights.” I raise my brow, hoping he takes my hint. The anticipation of his reaction practically drives me to dig my nails into his skin. I’m surprised he doesn’t flip around and demand to challenge Cal right here, right now. It would be a short fight, but it would be no less damning.
His shoulders soften though, and his stance shifts to one of embarrassment. “Of course.” He murmurs, his other hand coming to rest on mine. “There always are.”
Hiding my relief behind a smile, I try to pull my hand away. I can’t believe I thought he would actually go to blows with Cal. He’s smarter than that, and better at playing the long game than I give him credit for in the moment.
Before I can pull my hand away completely, he grips it tighter and stares me down, daring me to pull away. He puts up the mask then, the one that I loved dearly and searched for during my months with him in Archeon.
“Even if some battles are already lost.” He whispers as he leans close to me so his words are only for me.
He’s a desperate boy now. I can hear the ache in his voice. What does he know? What does his mother know? Nothing, I’m certain they know nothing. Elara didn’t get anything from me, and she hasn’t gotten anything from Cal. We’ve been careful enough, we’re never together in a way that anyone could question. We haven’t even gone into that moonlit room yet. I haven’t put a knife in Maven’s back yet. Maybe he was more jealous of my escapade to the Stilts than I initially noticed. That’s the only thing he has to work with, and maybe the fact that Cal and I were obviously teasing each other before training just now. He’d never been so outwardly jealous of Cal though. His jealousy was always a quietly simmering pot that never overflowed. He was so much more dangerous because of that.
Pulling away from me when I stay silent, he gives me a rueful smile and turns to face the arena where Elane and Sonya are tearing each other to pieces. I can’t focus though; my mind turns into a tail spin of panic. Have we slipped up? Did I damn us a few nights ago? Are we even off track? What if we are? What has changed?
I am so lost in my own thoughts I almost miss Evangeline demanding our fight. Lifting my eyes to her, I take in her gloating smile. She senses my panic, but has no inclination of the source.
Maven jumps to my defense like a cat would to a mouse. Evangeline doesn’t back down though. I should be grateful for this, at least something is back on track. It’s been a while since I’ve been glad for Evangeline Samos, and even though she is not my friend now, she is the closest thing I’ve seen since training started.
(/////)
Sitting in the darkness of my room that night, I watch the moonlight as it passes over the floor. Are the Sentinels watching me on their screens, wondering if I’ve lost my mind? I doubt it. Unless Elara had told them to keep a closer eye on me. I wouldn’t be surprised, when she’d corned me and Maven in the hallway I had felt her creeping in my mind, searching in the mirrored halls I’d barely had enough time to drag up to protect my memories.
Sighing, I let my head fall into my hands as I breathe. Focusing on the hum of the cameras, I follow the source of the electricity along the wires. The purr of the current fills my senses and drowns me. For a moment, I let myself just exist in the peaceful darkness behind my eyelids. Things will only get harder from here. I regret not tuning for Montfort more than anything now.
A gentle knock on the door drags me out of my meditation. Raising my eyes to the door, I wrap my robe tighter around me as I stand. My steps are near silent as I creep across the room and crack open the door.
Leaning against the frame of the doorway, Cal looks more exhausted than I’ve ever seen him. With a shadow creeping along his jaw, he looks more like he did in Montfort. He was on the verge of doom and greatness here, and there too. He wears the years he’s already lived tonight in the bags under his eyes and the weariness of his shoulders.
When he spots the sliver of my face behind the door, he gives me a tentative smile. “Up for a dance?” He asks quietly as I open the door a little wider.
Nodding, I let him pull me out of my room and toward a moonlit room where I can at least pretend for a little while that I’m safe even if I’m the furthest from safe that I’ve ever been.
(////)
In the hours leading up to the ball, while I am being painted and primed, the names Maven gave as targets ring through my head. When he had visited me late in the dark to tell me them, I had expected him to give me different names. I’d whisper to Cal that I thought I had messed up, and given us away. He’d tried to assure me that everything would alright. And when we kiss this time, there was a desperation to it. Like Maven, he is terrified to lose me, and he poured that fear into the kiss he gave me.
Reynold Iral, Ptolemus Samos, Ellyn Macanthos. Belicos Leorlan. Those names chase me and haunt my waking hours. The prospect of them being wrong, and Maven adding more names, or different ones, haunts me even more.
Belicos with his two young children who will die tonight too, Ptolemus Samos who will live to someday kill my brother but father a beautiful daughter with Wren, Colonel Macanthos with her sly eye that can see right through Elara’s schemes, and Reynold, a man I’m pretty sure is lost somewhere anyway dance behind my eyelids and in the corner of my eyes. I don’t think I will ever be rid of my ghosts.
I couldn’t breathe when I stood before Mareena and saw her in the mirror. She was lovely and wicked in the light of my room, and I’m sure she’ll look the same way at the ball tonight. The dress is the same riotous mess of gemstones and purple fabric that I hate even more this time around, especially when I have to stand next to Maven and observe him in his beautiful charcoal suit. He is beautiful in it, as beautiful as I remember. It makes my stomach twist every time I look at him.
The pleasantries leave me just as breathless, and I can feel Evangeline’s eyes on me as she glares down the line at the people who are to come. It’s almost a relief when Maven pulls me out onto the balcony, just so that I can inhale fresh air. As we go, I feel the brush of Cal’s hand as he reaches back to catch my skirt. My eyes dart to him in warning, but he’s already hiding the movement behind setting his hand on Evangeline’s back and smiling at Belicos as he steps forward to greet them.
Even as Maven pulls me onto the balcony, my heart is pounding. Seeing Belicos a second time does nothing to ease the ache in my heart. His children, I remember their bodies laid out next to his like they were nothing. Was Maven’s emotion in the moment a scam? Had he felt anything seeing their little bodies. I don’t know what’s real and the closer we get to the moment, the more my fear increases. .
“You’re giving them a father.” I whisper, the words like poison on my tongue. He’d give anything to topple the Guard, and he did give everything. Even if I hadn’t been enough to completely crush us. At the same time though, he wasn’t the one to truly give those names. Elara told him who to pick and he acted like a good little mouth piece. He could have chosen not to give that name though. In the moment he could have chosen to spare a father and his children. He’d made that choice. I know he’s braver than he claims, especially where Elara is concerned. Farley was right to call him a coward.
He lets go of me but doesn’t step away when I speak. He stays close instead, his hands just ghosting over my skin. He looks like a marble statue in the moonlight, his lips drawn in a tight line. Achingly beautiful, a boy on the cusp of manhood and his own demise, an angel teetering over the edge of the abyss.
He backs me into the wall, his eyes like chips of ice in the pale plane of his face. Slowly he places his hands on either side of my head, trapping me so that I have to listen to him.
“Reynald is a father, too. The Colonel has children of her own. Ptolemus is now engaged to the Haven girl. They all have people; they all have someone who will mourn them.” The words are forced and cold. A part of him believes those words but the larger part of him, the one Elara has groomed to be king someday knows it must be done. “We can’t pick and choose how to help the cause, Mare. We must do what we can, whatever the cost.”
My skin feels like it’s alive. I might electrocute him right here, right now, until he backs away from me. I have half a mind to press my hand to his chest and shove him over the balcony. It would take one push, and I know all the weak points to knock someone of balance now. It would be so easy. I could claim it was the Scarlet Guard, that they appeared on the balcony and pushed him.
His breath is warm on my face as he whispers, “I want this to be done with the least blood shed possible.”
His hand trembles as he brings it up to brush his fingertips along my cheek, a ghost of a touch, like he can’t bear to let his skin connect with mine. “Tonight will change everything.”
My heart pounds harder against my ribs as he pulls back enough to give me space. His eyes dance away from me and back to the line of dwindling nobles. The pleasantries are over, it’s time. Even if I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready though.
The shadows break again and I recognize Cal’s familiar outline as he steps onto the balcony. “You two all right out here?” His expression is hesitant, probably worried that he’s interrupted a moment that I am supposed to be getting information. His eyes linger on me, his expression softening. These next moments will be the hardest. “You ready for this, Mare?”
Maven jumps on my silence. “She’s ready.”
Taking my arm in his, he pulls me along. He was never this aggressive with me. At least, not that I remember. Maybe I had been so blinded by my emotions of the night that I hadn’t realized how he was acting. He’s agitated though, and monsters are dangerous like that.
Still, Cal’s fingers brush against my wrist, his touch somehow colder than Maven’s. I wish he actually took my hand and held it. When I look over my shoulder at him, his expression is stormy. He’d never been so outwardly nervous about Maven. At least he’s not afraid. We know what comes tonight. I told him what to expect, and he knows what he has to do. I wonder if he will be able to put Farley through the pain of the Gilican shiver’s torture now. I have to rely on him to do just that though.
Evangeline appears at his side, her jewel encrusted fingers enclosing his arm. She squeezes tightly when she sees my eyes lingering on him.
Oh Evangeline. I wish I could help her now. She has her own battle to fight though.
Maven’s lips almost brush my ear as he whispers to me, “This is the hard part.”
Even with all the eyes on me, I don’t blush. He pulls me into the frame but his skin is warmer than I remember. And as we start the dance, his eyes never leave my face. What is he looking for there?
As we move in the box formation, he raises a brow and his lips curl into a smile. “You’ve been practicing.”
“A bit, didn’t want to step on your toes.” I reply with my own smile. I put as much true joy as I can behind it.
His eyes flash for a moment and he leans a little closer to whisper, “You’re just full of surprises.” He chuckles, and the grin he gives me as he pulls back makes my stomach flutter. There is the boy that had captured my trust and my heart. I turn away at the sight of it, my stomach dropping.
I spot Cal spin Evangeline, who looks more like a glittering ball of spikes than a human. I’m surprised she doesn’t slice Cal’s hands open when he rests them on the back of the dress. I miss her more casual regalia that she wears in Montfort. I never saw her casual outfits that she wore here, but I imagine she carried that style into Ascendant.
Sensing my gaze, Cal’s eyes meet mine. His fingers close around Evangeline’s waist, and a million memories of him doing the same thing with me come back. I can almost feel his hand sliding around my waist in the tiny living room of our apartment as he hums the song playing on the radio. I can remember laying my head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat and the sound of his humming reverberating in his chest. He can’t carry a tune to save his life, but it is still wonderful.
We spin through two songs until I feel dizzy with anticipation. Just when I think Maven will pull me to the side though, he leans close to me. I almost pull away, but instead force myself to stay close and turn my head slightly to give him a shy smile. His eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them though.
“I told you that everything changes tonight.” He breathes against my ear. I nod, confused where this is going. “And I do have to admit that I’ve… kept something from you.”
What? What is he getting at? I pull away, panic flaring through me as I search that face for the truth. He’s too good at hiding it though. I grip his hand tightly, prepared to push as much electricity through his body as I can muster.
His hand burns in my grip instead. My lips curl in pain, but he ignores it and spins me so that my back is to the crowd around us. Forcing me to step into the next dance, he tilts his head forward again to whisper. “I did give Farley four names. But I lied to you about one of them.”
“What are you talking about?” My voice is cold, dangerous too. He senses it, pulling back a fraction. We stop dancing, and his hands drop to his sides. My heart beats so erratically, I worry it might beat right out of my chest.
He tilts his head to the side, his lips falling. “Ptolemus is a good target. Removing him would send the officers into chaos. But there was… a better target, one that would cause more chaos.”
“Who did you give?”
Who did your mother give? I want to grab him by the shoulders and shake it out of him. His lips curl up slowly, a remorseful smile if I ever saw one from him. My blood goes cold at the sight of it.
“Farley agreed with me that you were getting too close, that your attention was becoming divided. She also agreed that if there was ever a time to cut the head off the snake it was now.” He takes my hand and squeezes my fingers. “I’ll step up in his place. My father will never recover from the loss, so Farley can do what she pleases. It is a win for all of us.”
Realization burns through my stomach, followed immediately by frozen panic. “What have you done?” I wheeze as I flip around, searching the crowd, desperately trying to find Cal’s silhouette. In the mass of bodies, I can’t find him and my fingers twitch at my sides as I glance up in the rafters. The Sentinels pace, searching the crowd but they are looking in the wrong places. Above them, shadows move too. The Guard is already in position, ready to carry our Farley’s plot.
“I know that you two have become…friends.” Maven begins, taking my hand and pulling me back around so that I face him. I try to turn my head and search the crowd still, but he grabs my chin and drags my eyes back to his face. “That’s why I asked Farley to take the shot. She’ll give him a quick end. One bullet and a dynasty will end.”
One bullet that won’t miss. One bullet that will tear my future away from me. One bullet that will break me, because Farley never, ever misses.
My blood boils and sparks dance on my fingertips as I glare at him. Cold calm washes over me as the rush of adrenaline leaves. I am in battle mode now; survival is all I can think about when I stare down the man before me.
“Farley removed you from the mission. That’s why I didn’t tell you I gave her his name. She thought you might compromise us.”
We were wrong. I gave something away. Elara never would have dared to target Cal. She needs him to get rid of his father, she needs a scapegoat. But if she looked in my head or his and saw the future, she would have seen that he is more trouble than he’s worth. She would have found out that cutting him from the equation might someday save her and Maven.
If I turn and run after him, I will confirm whatever they believe about us, whatever they have found. But if I sit here, I will lose everything. I can’t go after him; I can’t save him or else I risk Farley and compromising this whole mission.
I am a selfish creature though. I always have been, and I always will be.
Ripping my hand from Maven’s grip I flip around to push my way through the crowd. I have time, there’s still time. I am racing against a clock I can’t see though. It’s like push through mud as I shove my way through the crowd. People gasp and glare at me, but I have eyes only for one person and I can’t find him.
My eyes start to water, and my breathing comes in ragged gasps.
Farley doesn’t miss. And she will make sure she doesn’t miss this time.
Memories of him lying on the sand of Harbor Bay, grey and lifeless threaten to overtake me. I shove them down. He won’t be made into a symbol tonight. I still have time.
There.
He stands with his back to me, speaking quietly with some military personnel or another. I shove through the last of the crowd, my hand extended for him. Elara’s eyes are on me, I can feel them, but I don’t care. I don’t care about keeping things on track. Jon can damn himself to the hells. I won’t lose him.
“Cal!” I scream his name, making him turn. His brows furrow, his expression confused by my panic and fear. I’m five steps away. Then four, hand outstretched as he takes a tiny movement forward as if he might meet me halfway. He never gets the chance.
The lights drop and four guns fire at the same time.
I scream so loud that my own ears ring. The lights around us flare to life on their own by the sheer force of my ability. My vision tunnels, even as someone slams into me from the side, screaming in panic as the lights directly above me explode in a shower of sparks.
I shove them away from me and sprint to his downed form. The man he’d been speaking to is gone, probably lost in the panic. People are screaming, shouting and pointing to the roof.
I slide the last foot between us on my knees and come to his side. Blood, there’s so much blood. I choke on a sob as I try to find the source of it. His eyes are open though, and his mouth opens and closes like a gaping fish.
Relief like nothing I’ve ever felt rushes through me, and I choke on his name as I feverishly try to find the source of the blood. It’s staining his uniform and pooling around his shoulder. His hands press to his chest, and I immediately press my hands on top of his. Sticky, burning blood pours through my fingers though.
“Mare.” His voice is ragged as he gasps my name, and I tear my eyes from the wound long enough to meet his eye. His going grey, the black undertones starting to appear under his eyes.
“No, stop trying to talk. You have to keep breathing.” I cry as I press the heels of my palms harder into the wound. More blood pours out and I feel like I’m fighting an uphill battle when I reach down and rip some of my dress off to press it to the wound. “Healer! Someone get a healer!” I scream to the panicked crowd. They’re like spooked animals though. No one notices their crown prince on his back bleeding out.
His hand closes weakly around my wrist and squeezes, trying to get my attention. His eyes are wide, but his expression is anything but fearful. “Don’t—” he begins, but ends up coughing on blood instead.
“No, no, no.” I sob as I push harder and glare at him. “No last words Calore. Not tonight. You’re going to be fine. You’re going to sit and drink coffee and talk with Julian again, and see Clara and my family again. And—and we’re going to see our baby, we’re going to hold him and watch him grow and become a better person than either of us. It’s going to be fine. Everything will be fine!”
His grip weakens on my wrist even as he smiles. My throat closes and I drop my chin to my chest. It’s a pretty picture I paint, but it fades with every slow beat of his heart. “Help!” I scream uselessly one more time, hoping someone will hear, that someone will come to my aid.
The crowd parts for a moment, and Sara who whipped around at the sound of my scream finds me. She barrels her way to us, and drops to her knees on Cal’s other side.
“Help him, save him.” I sob at her.
Her lips twist at the sight of all the blood, but she immediately pushes my hands away from the wound and replaces my hands with hers. Cal’s head falls back and his eyes close the minute she does. I leap for him, grabbing his face and trying to get him to open his eyes again. His neck falls slack in my grip through and I end up almost shaking him.
“Open your eyes, open your fucking eyes.” I scream at him, tears pouring like rivers down my cheeks. Hands grab me and try to pull me away, but I thrash against them and scream. When I’m flipped around, I meet Julian’s tortured expression.
He pulls me to him, keeping me out of Sara’s way as she works. His eyes never leave his nephew’s face. I wonder if he is seeing his sister in his grey features. Cal looks like a corpse, and my entire body feels like a live wire set to explode at any second.
“Don’t let him die. Please, don’t let him die.” I beg Sara, reaching a hand out to grab Cal’s hand. It’s cold in my grip and I almost vomit when my stomach clenches.
Her eyes dance up to me, and I see the resolve there. Is he lost? I don’t know if I will be able to bear that burden, if I will be able to survive this crushing blow.
She pulls her blood stained hands away and I dive out of Julian’s arms to grab at Cal. For a moment, I think he’s truly gone and a pained sob leaves my chest, sounding more like a scream than a moment of weakness. Underneath my hands though, his chest hitches with a breath, and then begins to rise and fall slowly.
The ballroom is practically empty around us. The royals have fled, the Sentinels have gone after Farley and the others. All that is left is us and the corpses. But there is one less among them.
“Cal,” I whisper to him as I brush his hair off his forehead. His eyes open for a moment only to close in a grimace.
“I wasn’t one of the targets.” He breathes, and I slowly let my forehead fall to rest on his chest. He wasn’t, but he survived. Turning to answer my call had saved his life. He’d changed his positioning, too fast for Farlet to correct her shot before the lights went out. She’d shot blindly, and almost succeeded in killing him.
“This sounds like a conversation for more… private chambers.” Julian’s voice is a dangerous rumble. I glance at him over my shoulder, belatedly realizing that he saw me sob over a prince that is not mine. He heard Cal mention targets, and judging by the fury behind his eyes, he is rapidly putting two and two together.
“Julian,” I reach for him, but he pushes to stand and then steps up to Cal’s other side.
“Sara will finish her work in my rooms. You two will come with us.” He bends down to grab one of Cal’s arms and help him sit up. I almost try to stop him, but he glares down at me. “Help me get him up and moving. We will have to move quickly.”
I crawl over Cal and grab his other arm before helping him to his feet. He stumbles, barely able to take his own weight. I grunt underneath him, and press into his side. Already I can feel the heat returning to his skin, and it sends such a thrum of relief through me that I have to swallow more tears.
(////)
Julian’s rooms are dark and after he helps me deposit Cal on one of the couches, he works quickly to shut all the curtains and lock the doors. I search for the cameras, but there are none for me to turn off.
He lights a few candles and brings them to the side table to light Sara’s work space. She shoes me away and takes my place at Cal’s side before tearing his ceremonial suit off. While she healed the artery that was severed, there is still a bullet in his chest. I can just catch one of the edges reflecting in the dim light.
Sara holds out an expectant hand and not even a heartbeat later, Julian sets a small cloth wrapped set of tools in her hands. She sets them in her lap and goes to work as I edge around the back of the couch and take one of Cal’s hands in my own. His pulse is getting stronger with every passing second, and his grip increases as Sara digs the first tool in to get the bullet out.
“Both of you, talk.” Julian’s fury is like nothing I’ve seen before. Even when I came to him for help in freeing Farley and Kilorn, he had still been soft, quiet. This fury is the fury of a man that has seen horrible dark places and is terrified to be forced back into them.
I glance at Cal who grimaces and grinds his teeth together when Sara starts to tug on the bullet. He won’t be able to make this decision right now.
“You wouldn’t believe us.” I say quietly before looking up at Julian and begging him to understand my hesitation.
“Try me.” He grinds out past his clenched jaw.
My stomach turns and Cal squeezes my hand. I glance down at him, and he nods slowly. We have been compromised. It’s time.
“You have to… listen the whole time. Don’t waste time with questions.” I urge, and in the low light, Julian’s nod creates dark shadows across his features. He looks older than I’ve ever seen him. Bowing my head, I inhale slowly and then launching into the story, starting with the most dangerous truth.
It takes more time than I want for Sara to finish with Cal, and for me to finish the story. As he gets stronger, Cal interjects, adding bits and pieces that I forget. Julian keeps true to his word and stays quiet, but his expression pulls into a deeper and deeper frown as we go.
“How could you not trust me with this. If you know what I am to be to you, why would you not seek out my help immediately?” He pushes to his feet and begins pacing the space before us. Sara watches him, her eyes solemn.
“We—I didn’t want to put you in danger.” Cal whispers, pushing to a sitting position. I try to push him back down, but he fights me off.
“I end up in danger anyway.” Julian turns his gaze on Cal, but it’s softened considerably. I relax as he steps forward to look both of us over. “You’re certain Elara knows the truth?”
“Cal wasn’t a target. But Maven made him one tonight and pushed me off the mission. He knew about me and Cal and if he knows about that, then he knows about everything else.” I whisper, and take the rag Sara had brought a few minutes ago. Wiping some of the blood of Cal’s chest, I shake my head. “I gave us away completely tonight by saving you.”
Cal closes a hand over mine and squeezes softly.
“You must have given yourselves away some time before that.” Julian stops his pacing to set his fists on his hips. Glaring at the carpet like it is the sole reason for his worry, he says, “and now you are once again at the mercy of Elara’s mechanisms.”
“Not exactly.” Cal argues, sitting up completely and starting to shrug his uniform jacket on. Julian raises a brow at his words, but waits until Cal gives up with the buttons to let him speak.
“We know what her ultimate end game is, and there is more than one way to get to the point we want.” Cal glances at me warily. “You and Maven are supposed to meet with Farley when we get to Archeon. You are going to have to warn her, and tell her the truth. All of it.”
I jump to my feet, shock coursing through me. “Have you lost your mind? Julian would understand, but Farley?”
“Farley will understand if you tell her the truth and give her proof.” Cal urges.
Sara and Julian watch our responses bounce back and forth like spectators at some sports match. It’s my turn to pace though, so I start wearing a trench into the floor, grabbing fistfuls of my gown as I do so. “Even if I did manage to get her to believe me, what are we going to do?”
“Elara doesn’t know that I know right?” He reasons with a tilt of his head. I pause my pacing to glance at him. He finishes buttoning up his jacket and nods at whatever plan is forming in his head. “She may think you are the only person that knows the future. That only you are here.”
“What are you talking about? If she’s seen my memories—”
“Then she’s only seen the ones formed before.” Julian jumps on the plan. His eyes dart between the two of us. “You would know if she was in your head Cal. And you are certain she has not looked. She has only seen your memories Mare. As far as she is concerned you are the only person with knowledge of the future.”
“Then why get rid of Cal tonight?” I wave a hand at him for emphasis. My fingers are still shaking, and my body still feels numb from the near death scare.
“You said so yourself. He plays a role in toppling her and Maven. Remove the tumor before it becomes cancer.” Julian offers with a shrug. Setting his hand on my shoulder, he gives me a tired smile. “You may still have a card up your sleeve. Go to… Farley, and get her to believe your story. Make a new plan, one that will put you back on track.”
How am I going to do that? How will I keep Maven in the dark? I’m smart, but he’s always been so much smarter than me, and with the knowledge Elara now has, the game has just become that much harder.
Cal rises on shaky legs, his expression cold. “Speaking of Farley, she might be done in the cells now.”
My blood goes cold and I blink stupidly. “But you didn’t catch her this time. She got away.”
“I didn’t catch her the first time. The Sentinels had already apprehended her by the time I caught up to them.” He nods to Sara and with a slow dip of his head whispers, “thank you, for saving my life.”
She smiles at him, a tiny weak expression but it lights up her face. She takes Julian’s hand and rises from her chair.
It feels good to have the two of them on our side now, playing the game with us. Maybe with them, we can actually win this time around.
#The Chain#my writing#red queen#glass sword#kings cage#war storm#broken throne#post broken throne#my fanfics#thank you so much to everyone who stuck around and waited#here it finally is#she's thic and important and she knows it#(((:#I know it moves fast at the end but it's time to pick up the pace with this fic#I've been dragging it out too long.#marecal#the eternal ship#and now they get to be badasses together#it's great
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The Chain (Part 9)
Thank you to everyone for being so patient with my update for this fic. I’m officially done with my first semester of graduate school and since I’m on break, I want to try and post as many chapters as possible to get as close to finishing this as possible. We’re time jumping after this by the way everyone. It’s about time we kicked it up a few notches and got to the meat and bones of this fic.
Tag list: @delilahlbard, @king-maven-calore, @thatoddgirl777, @elliekratzzz, @evangelineartemiasamos, @evangeline-of-montfort, @scxrletguardsdawn, @freaky-freiday, @petergrantkavinsky, @kuwei, @whatsup-gorls, @katiemoore, @redqueenetwork, @tranquil-dusk (I’m trying to add you but for some reason it wont @... the same problem happens with @thatoddgirl777 and I have no idea how to fix it)
Find the rest of the fic here: part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8
Enjoy everyone (:
(/Mare/)
When I run from my lesson with Julian, it feels fake and I wonder if he even buys into it. I have far too much control over my ability now, and it is hard to fake going out of control. Still, the rain feels good on my face when I finally find a balcony. I couldn’t care less about the paint that is most likely being washed away. I tilt my head back and inhale, letting the rain drench my hair. Today is just a bad day, and it is only set to get worse.
The rain is warm as if washes over my face. I wish it were cold. I’ve felt too much lately. I want to be numb for a few minutes.
Thunder rumbles in the distance. A moment later, the air changes as another bolt of lightning prepares to races across the sky. The storm is right overhead. I miss the electricons more than anything as the pressure escalates around me.
We’d go storm chasing on a day like today to hunt down the elusive bolts of lightning so that we could harness them ourselves. Harnessing natural storms is like wrestling with my brothers when I was little. It’s pulling against an impossible force, but the power that roars through my veins when I manage to get what I want out of it is exhilarating.
Gripping the banister, I inhale the smell of ozone and open my eyes to watch the flash of white as it shoots across the sky. Change, lightning is change. Storms come and wash away the old to bring new, brighter things behind it. Tyton had taught me that. Ella taught me it could be elegant. Rafe taught me it was beauty. I taught them it could bend but never break.
A hand closes around my arm and I almost yelp at the freezing touch. Two Sentinels stand over me. They must have followed me out here and given me a careful berth until they were certain I wouldn’t electrocute them.
“My lady,” One of them growls, his grey eyes like dirty snow. Probably a Gillican judging by his touch. He’s twice my size, but nowhere near as powerful. I still hate the sight of them.
“Let go.” I insist as I tug my arm. But he grips me tighter and steel panic laces through my bones. They had found me before, but who knows why they have come looking for me now. Has Elara decided to make a move? Has she found something out?
Tugging against him, I bring my other hand up to grab his wrist and shock him into letting me go. I never get the chance though.
“You heard my bride.” Maven. My blood runs cold as he steps onto the balcony, looking over the two guards like they are common dirt. “Let her go.”
The relief I should feel is replaced by cold fear. I’ll take the Sentinels over him any day. I’m not in the mood to play games with him.
“Apologies your Highness, but we must keep Lady Titanos to her schedule.” The one holding me speaks in a baritone that makes Maven’s lips pull down in a frown. His grip is already loosening though. I can’t believe I never realized how in pocket Maven and Elara had the Sentinels. These soldiers stopped serving the king a long time ago. “It’s orders, sir.”
“Then you have new orders,” Maven’s voice is colder than ice. It reminds me of the freezing nights in Paradise Valley when the wolves would howl at the moon and the wind would answer back. “I will accompany Mareena back to her lessons.”
I’d sooner let him walk me off a cliff. But the Sentinels drop my arm none the less and leave us on the balcony. The buffer they put between me and Maven leaves with them, and then I am alone with the man who destroyed me.
“We have working showers inside, you know.”
I push my wet hair out of my face before turning away from him. Jokes aside, I don’t want to see him. My nightmares have returned in all their supernatural fury. Every night I dream of chasing him down a hallway, the burn of the knife as it cuts my side, and feeling of dying in a Silent Stone room. I wake gasping and on the verge of screaming, but no sound comes out. I’m grateful for that at least. Still, I miss Cal’s warmth, and being able to curl against him to tether myself to reality when the dreams refuse to leave.
“I want to be alone.” I murmur, setting my head in my hand. My patience is holding, but not for long.
“I understand that.”
Oh, I know you do. I keep my lips from curling into a sneer by sheer will alone. Lightning flares across the sky again. The storm is creeping beyond us, but I could still pull a bolt down and hit him if I wanted. My aim is perfect. I could cook him to a crisp like I did Elara.
I grip the banister again to settle my thoughts. I can almost feel the char of her hair between my fingers and the weight of her head if I close my eyes. I can hear the hum of the cameras as I hold up the head of a she-wolf and promise to come for the pup.
“I understand how difficult it is.” He continues as he steps up next to me, bolder than he ever was. My eyes snap to him, but I’m more curious now than wary. What has made him so certain? Before, he had still been wary around me. It wasn’t until we joined the Guard together that he truly pretended to open up to me.
His eyes are cold as he stares out over the palace grounds. “These people. They make it impossible. I can’t say what I want, do what I want—with my mother around I can barely even think what I want. And my brother—!”
“What about him?” My blood runs cold. What has Cal done now? He promised he would stop prying—
The words stick in his mouth, and he pales with a blush. He’s not the perfect statesman that locked me in a cage yet. He’s not the boy listening to a ghost in his head yet. There is still a part of him that is Maven, and not the thing his mother created. “He’s strong, he’s talented, he’s powerful—and I’m his shadow. The shadow of the flame.”
The part of me that always understood that part of him, and even loved it quakes. I step out of Gisa’s shadow because of him, but he never does leave Cal’s. He never gives himself the chance. He keeps chasing the edge of Cal’s shadow like there is one. Maven casts his own shadows though. They haunts me and they haunts Cal in the future. If only he knew that.
When the words come to me, they are true and that is what makes me feel sick. “Then maybe you should try to be more than that.”
His eyes widen at my words, and I find myself unable to stop. “You could be more. I think you could. Stop chasing the edges of shadows, you’ll never find them. Find a way to be alone with your own heart, and be happy with it.”
His entire face folds in on itself, pinching in places I never saw before. I’ve never seen this emotion from him, and I have no idea what to call it. For a moment I wonder if I’ve said the wrong things, and done exactly what I told Cal not to do. But a part of me still wants to save the boy that I thought was trying to save me. Even if its hopeless, and he is too far gone to save. Monsters aren’t born, they’re made. Julian told me that once. Well if monsters can be made, they can be unmade too.
“That’s something you should know about us Silvers. We’re always alone. In here, and here.” He gives me a tired smile as he touches his head and then his heart. The line sends a shiver down my spine though. He’d said the same thing last time too. It only reminds me that perhaps we’re on a track, and there is no getting off. There are no other exits, only the ones that I know are coming.
“I don’t believe you.”
“You better learn to hide that heart of yours, Lady Titanos. It won’t lead you anywhere you want to go.”
My heart aches more than he could ever know. This is the boy, this is the truth. There is nothing to save. I am trying to fix a shattered mirror and cutting my hands on the pieces to spill my blood for nothing. I turn my eyes back to the sky, closing them as lightning strikes again, and thunder roars above us. Battle lines were drawn before; I have to redraw them now.
“I think I can help with your problem.”
I turn my eyes back down to him, and instantly he is the Maven I dreamed about. The mask is so perfect. I forget there are cracks that the darkness slips through.
“What problem?”
“You’re homesick.” Holding out his hand to me, he nods down to it when I don’t take it. His skin is like ice when I slide my palm into his. I thought I remember him being warm by this point. Instead, he’s a corpse before I make him one. “I can fix that.”
(/////)
The wind cuts through my hair, ripping it from its braid as Cal and I race toward the Stilts. I’ve ridden a cycle with him numerous times since this night. Nothing takes away the rush or competes with the feeling of flying that this generates though. Usually we tear down mountains roads and I close my eyes, trusting him to keep me safe as he cuts around turns. He’s taken Gisa once too. I had to peel her off of him when they returned because she was gripping his body so tightly.
Right now, his body is warm in my arms, warm and real. It reminds me that I’m safe with him. Even if I’m terrified of the situation we’re in.
When we finally reach the branch in the road that will bring us into the Stilts he brings the cycle to a stop, and cuts the engine. I’m the first off, and I peel away from him like a second skin. He pushes it into the trees, his eyes dancing to me every so often as he does so. I know that look he is throwing over his shoulder. I’ve seen the worry that creases his brows and the concern that flares like a light show in his eyes many times when he’s uncertain what’s going through my mind.
“Do you want to talk?” He eventually asks after throwing a few leafy branches over the cycle to hide it. I tuck my hands into the pocket of my coat to hide the shake in them.
“There really was nothing to save.” It’s a thought that’s been going through my mind since Maven confronted me on the balcony.
His expression melts into true concern faster than I can swallow my words. But he swaps that for a different mask of emotion. There’s no jealousy in his eyes, but I can see the beginning flares of his panic. His one true fear before we started this was that I would choose Maven this time around; that maybe he really was the consolation prize all along and I only chose to try again because I lost my chance to be with Maven.
“He’s still a ghost.” I whisper to him before reaching out for his hand. He lets my fingers interlace with his. I squeeze them tightly, trying to get him to understand. “That doesn’t mean I won’t mourn a chance lost.”
He nods tightly, his jaw squeezing until a muscle in it feathers. I cup the spot with my other hand, caressing it to soothe him. “I love you, you know that. Even if you drive me up a wall sometimes.”
With a light laugh, his worry melts away, and I’m glad for it. We can’t be questioning each other right now. There’s too much at stake. There can be no edges. We filed them down after the war so we could fit together after all. That is where the real truth lies though.
Maven carved himself to fit with me. But Cal and I smoothed down together, cutting off the edges that mattered so we could fit. I didn’t need to change for Maven because he melted what he needed to make the perfect mask. It had been a lie from the beginning. A beautiful, wonderful lie. Cal had been real though, had never bothered to hide what he was, even when those parts hurt. He made me better, and I made him better. Nothing about Maven had made me better. He made me strong sure, but a brittle kind of strong that hurt anyone that got too close.
Reaching out, he pushes my hair away from my face, his smile falling fast. “I wish you didn’t have to go through this.”
He could be talking about anything. Shade. Maven. All the New Bloods. Losing myself. Losing people I love. Even losing him for a bit.
“I don’t.” I insist, even though the words cut up my insides like glass as I speak them. The truth cuts sometimes. I’m used to the sting.
(////////)
The meeting with my family still stabs like a knife. Kilorn’s rage burns like a brand. Gisa’s wish rings in my ears. I feel like I’m drowning, being swallowed up by the old emotions. It’s like reading a book where I know the ending and hesitate to turn every page. I hate every second. Even as I make my way straight of Will’s wagon.
Cal trails me, making sure to stay hidden in the shadows so Kilorn doesn’t see him, and so Will’s spies don’t notice him ether. Kilorn knows who Cal is, I know he does. He had known from the moment he first saw him. I couldn’t be more grateful for my friend keeping his fat mouth shut around my family though. I think my dad would have found a way to stand and kill Cal where he stood if he knew he was the Crown Prince.
I hold my hand out, telling him to stay back silently, while I take the final ten meters to the wagon on my own. He melts into the shadows, playing the part of a shadow so expertly I have to do a double take. But even his eyes are gone. Maybe he turned and went back to the cycle. I hope he did.
When I step into the wagon, it’s to see Will smiling, already waiting for what I have to say. I tell him everything. And just like he did last time, he admits to knowing everything.
Tristan waits behind the curtain, ready to pounce. I can see the toes of his boots before he announces his presence. He’s more arrogant than I remember. I still see the pole Ptolemus shoots through him though, and the mental image makes me shudder.
“The royal monkeys have chosen a queen this past week.” Tristan’s smile is cold as he looks me over. “You’ve been all over the screens Lady Titanos.”
I hate that name, and all the implications of it. “They aren’t all monkeys.” I insist, and the fire that lights in his eyes makes me wish I hadn’t said anything.
“Are you talking about the prince you’re engaged to or the one waiting outside in the shadows?” Will asks as he leans back and rests his hands on his stomach.
My heart does a jump and a skip, and I’m sure all the blood drains from my face. I thought we’d been careful and I had been incredibly impressed with how Cal disappeared. Still, I should have known, Will is a spy in the Guard for a reason.
Tristan erupts though, and takes two quick steps for the door, his hand flying to his pistol. I leap and grab his wrist though, twisting it expertly and spinning to put myself between him and the door. And ultimately between him and Cal.
“You brought a Silver here?” he hisses down at me, even though my hands are already lighting with sparks. “The Crown Prince? Do you know what we could do if we took him in? What we could bargain for?”
Relax, I want sneer, you get him eventually. And he will do far more this time than he did last time. My words when I do speak are low, like thunder in the distance as I glare him down. “You leave him alone.”
Tristan’s lip curls in disgust. “A few weeks in the lap of luxury and your blood is as silver as theirs,” he spits, looking like he wants to curl his fingers around my throat and throttle me. “Do they take turns?”
“What?” I gasp in surprise. That’s not in the script.
“Do they take turns rolling in the sheets with you?” His lips curl at the surprise on my face. “Or do you pick one over the other? I’m going to guess the one hiding out there gets the most time.”
Fury like nothing before sears through me. I bring a hand up that sparks as I sneer. “You idiot. I’m protecting you from him. He’s a trained soldier that would turn you inside out like a shirt if he wanted. And he’d burn this place down if you so much as tried to go after him.”
You’re only alive because I haven’t burned the oxygen from this room. A real threat, one I believed when Cal said it the first time, and one I believe now. I have to keep Tristan away from Cal. I can’t have a stray bullet finding its way into his chest or his head.
Tristan deflates, his anger melting away as I slowly lower my hand and disburse the sparks. Will lays a hand on Tristan’s shoulder, calming him further. “That’s enough,” he whispers. “What did you come here for, Mare? Kilron is safe and so are you siblings.”
This is what I came here for. To put the pieces in motion finally. To start the game for my side. “Shade was a member of the Guard, and they killed him for it.” The only fact I can trace. “I have to pretend it doesn’t bother me.”
“You’re dead if you don’t.” Will reasons.
“I know. I’ll say what they want. But I’m in the palace, the center of the royal family. I’m quick, and quiet. And I will help the cause.”
Tristan sucks in a ragged breath. His eyes light with a new fire, this one vastly different from his anger. He rises to his full height, beaming at my words. “You want to join up.”
“I do.” My words are final, and I don’t bother to look at Will, only Tristan.
“I hope you know what you’re committing to. This isn’t just my war, or Farley’s or the Scarlet Guards—it’s yours. Until the very end. And not to avenge your brother but to avenge us all. To fight for the ones before and the ones to come.”
The ones to come. My chest squeezes as I picture Clare’s toothless grin at the same time that her laugh rings through my ears. My own hand curls into a fist on my stomach. There are plenty to come. I swore myself to the Guard to protect them before I even knew about them, and now more than ever my heart pounds for that future. I will fight tooth and nail for it. I will spill my blood and others so that someday, someday I can sit on my porch and watch a little dark haired boy run rampant in the backyard. So my brother’s name can live on in his daughter. So that someday my family never has to be hungry. So that someday, I never have to be afraid.
I slip my hand into Will’s gnarled one. Cal warned me of war once, of what it brings. We both know the cost now, but I know what waits for us on the other side. There is a light, there is hope, there is good. I will do whatever it takes to get back there. Even if it means mucking my way through blood and mud once again.
“I am with you.”
“We will rise,” Will breathes in unison with Tristan. The words are like hope burning in my chest, lighting up the room around us as I speak them too. “Red as the dawn.”
(////////)
Cal is quiet as we walk through the halls of the palace. And I am too. My silence is contemplative though, his is patient while he waits for what I have to say. He’s always waiting, waiting for me to cross the bridge. He waited for me to say yes too. He asked seven times before I said yes to him in the dead of night wrapped up in cool sheets and half delirious with sleep. I’d pressed a kiss to the space between his brows and said yes without him asking. He waited almost two years for me to say that word after he asked the first time. Now he waits without asking. He knows I will talk eventually.
“I have to tell you something.” I eventually whisper, and grab his wrist. The cameras whisper around us, and I turn my eyes in their direction before saying, “Your rooms are safe.”
When Maven brought me there, I made sure to do a sweep. There are no cameras in Cal’s room. I wonder why, but I don’t bother to question it too much. It’s a silent blessing, the perfect meeting place. I don’t have to wait until the guards change to speak with him.
He nods and takes me a back way. For a moment, I fear we’re lost, until we turn a corner and he brings us to his door. He glances over his shoulder at the same time that I swipe my hand to surge electricity through the camera’s wires, shorting it long enough for me to slide in the room and him to follow me without us being seen.
In the dark of his rooms, I feel like a ghost. He goes to turn the lights on but I catch his hand. And for the first time in a long time, almost shock him. The hairs on his arms rise as my sparks threaten to explode out from under my skin. I haven’t been this nervous in so long. It makes him jumpy.
“What happened?” He asks quickly, spinning to face me and grabbing my shoulders. His shadow looks different in the dark, smaller and less imposing. Strange how that is what made him most human to me the first time as well.
I slip out of his grip only to dive into his chest, wrapping my arms around his middle and burying my nose in his shirt. He smells just a hint like the river as spending a couple of hours in the Stilts, but underneath it, that scent of burning wood clings to him. It relaxes every muscle in my body as I inhale.
He wraps is arms around my shoulders in response. For a moment, I think he’ll repeat his question. Instead he just reaches up to threads his fingers through my hair that I pulled out of the braid long ago, tangling them in the slightly wavy locks. I can’t hold the secret in any longer, not now that I’ve signed up for this, and he will someday too. I should have told him the moment I found out, but I wanted it be a surprise, a little secret that I could tell him with a laugh. Instead, I feel like I’m telling him before we walk to the gallows. It taints the joy, the happiness of what is to come.
“I wasn’t completely honest with you before all this.”
His shoulders stiffen as I bring my hands up to close them in fists on his back. I’m never good at starting conversations like this and I immediately regret the words I spoke. He’s already on edge, and I made I worse. Squeezing the fabric of his shirt softly, I murmur, “before we got here.”
He relaxes again, and disengages from our embrace to lift my chin. He needs to know, deserves to know.
“I didn’t want to go after Giselle that night. I told you I was tired, but there was another reason.” It has never been so hard to put something into words. I wish I had just told him in the first place, maybe this whole mess could have been avoided if I had.
His brows furrow and his face twists as he tries to think back to that strange night and morning. I grab his hands and squeeze tight, willing him to pay attention to my words, more than the memory of what I said.
“I was going to tell you we had to call off the wedding—”
His eyes widen in surprise, and he opens his mouth to speak. I press my finger to his lips to keep him from doing just that. “For just a little while. Something came up.”
He sits with baited breath, his expression confused and fearful. A mix that’s dangerous for a soldier, especially one like Cal that is used to knowing everything. My lips curl into a weak smile as I say, “We have to get back because something’s waiting for us. Or it may have come with us. I’m not sure. If it did, I have to be more careful than I thought.”
His eyes dart around the room like someone might be listening, and he slowly takes my hand to pull me into his closet where our voices will be furthered muffled. Has he grasped what I’m about tell him? Cal’s observant, even with all his bullheaded tendencies, and he’s not stupid. He knows me well enough to notice when my habits change. And they had been changing, little by little. I’m a subtle creature, but he’s very good at reading me now.
In the safety of his closet, I can smile bright. I can let the warmth of my news pulse out of me like sunlight. It had terrified me the moment I knew what was happening, but slowly that panic had been replaced by a strange joy, a strange curiosity. And now, it was longing.
“You can talk freely now.” He whispers.
The words die. They won’t come. Like stones, they sit in my throat and choke me. Maybe I shouldn’t tell him. Is it cruel to get his hopes up about something we may never be able to return to? And yet, this is not just my burden to bear. This is our future. I am in this to get back to my family. He is in this to get back to what we had in Montfort. He may need something else, something to fight for that isn’t just me. Even if it’s not as tangible as it is for me.
I’ll just have to say it, push the words out one by one. “I was pregnant.”
They come easier than I thought, and honestly come out more like a garbled rush than the wonderful phrase they should be. As soon as I speak those words into existence though, the joy leaves, only to be replaced by trepidation and the air around us is leeched of its warmth.
“What?” Cal’s question is a wheeze, a word not quite formed.
“Three or four months, I wasn’t sure.” I grab his hand and squeeze as his eyes widen in the dark to the side of moons. “I told you we had so much waiting for us. That’s what is waiting for us. We have to follow everything to the line because of that future.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He whispers, his eyes darting as he thinks back over everything, every action I committed before that night, every word I spoke.
“I was going to tell you that night, but then we got called to deal with Giselle.” I shake my head, laughing quietly. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I am not the only one privy to this secret knowledge.
His eyes darken though. Storm clouds gather in his irises as he leans down to whisper. “You said you didn’t know if it came with us.”
“All my knowledge and memories came with me… and I’m in the same body theoretically just--just five or six years younger. It might have come with me.” It’s a long shot, but if I’m right, we have far bigger problems than we originally thought.
“You don’t look like—”
“I didn’t look like it in Montfort either.” I reason dryly. He would have noticed if I did. His lips twist and he nods.
“What do you want to do?”
“I’m going to wait and see if anything happens.”
He pales at the prospect, but I grip his fingers tightly again, forcing his gaze back down to me. “This is what we are fighting to get back to. Why we have to be so careful.”
“I wish you’d told me sooner.” He murmurs before reaching down to circle one of his arms around my waist. In the dark I’m not quite sure if he’s smiling or grimacing. Not until he cups my jaw and presses his lips to mine. He pours every ounce of the joy that is about to explode out of him into that kiss. It mixes with mine until I’m certain we are glowing like a small sun.
And in that closet, nestled in a nest of snakes and wolves, I finally let myself breathe.
#red queen#glass sword#kings cage#war storm#broken throne#post broken throne#The Chain#marecal#the eternal ship#the eternal ship sails on#sighs#okay so the end was cheesy and terrible and i hate it and love it at the same time#I've been building up to that reveal though so yeah there is it#no mare is not pregnant in this part of the fic#I decided#that would be too weird#but I think she did have to share that news with cal#it becomes important later on#anyway#we are time jumping in the next part#not sure to where but lol you're all gonna find out#my fanfics#my writing#and the wheels slowly start falling off the bus (((((:
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The Secret Correspondence of the Dancing War - Part 5
A/N And we have arrived as the end children. While it saddens us to wrap this up, I think Regina (@elane-in-the-shadows) and I are super happy with it. Here is the final letter to wrap up the epilogue that we decided we knew how to write better than Victoria.
v. Kilorn
[Editors note, Gabriel Jacos: While this letter was written ten years ago, Coriane and Shade Barrow Calore have agreed to share it to preserve it. For context, this letter was written some three weeks after the fourth attempt to kidnap them failed in the year they announced their abdication from their father’s birthright. For more information on the topic of Calore abdication, see section: treaties N/M ii to v v. GJA/. Both were moved to a remote location with their parents known only to very close family. For this reason, there are no omissions in the letter and there is little more to be said other than the few words they asked to be shared: it is their favorite letter that their uncle wrote to them, and he was right about their mother cheating at cards. For further reading on the topic of the Dancing War, see section: letters EITS i to LV v. GJA/]
November 30 345
Cori and Shade,
I hope this letter finds you safe, and while I applaud both of you on your ability to drive your dad up a wall (a pass time that I really enjoyed too when I was younger), I do ask that you try to refrain from making your parents decide that the front lines are easier to handle than you two. For starters, the cabin roof is not a spring board for you two to practice jumping off of, and the woods out back are not a place for you to practice creating infernos Cori. I know how boring it can be to sit around under protective custody, but just know that we all miss you both very much. My office isn’t the same without you two running around playing your games, and distracting me with your laughter. Hopefully all of this blows over soon and you two can be back in time to celebrate the holidays, or at least your birthday, Cori. Your grandmother is already preparing, and she’s counting you and your parents in for dinner. And yes, Shade, I did remember to remind to your grandmother that you hate vegetables. She has promised to include something different for you (although I can’t make any promises on whether or not your mom forces you to eat some).
I’m sure your parents will want a break from you trouble makers when you get back, so I assume I’ll have to shoulder the burden of keeping you little demons under control. While I’ll be pretty busy handling the treaty with the Prairie fiefdoms and reviewing or implementing whatever crazy battle plans your parents come up with, I’m sure we’ll still have plenty of time to wander the gardens on the grounds. Carmadon has been tending to the patch of lavender your planted with him, Cori, and you’ll be pleased to know that it’s doing very well given the storms we’ve had lately. I plan to restock the pond once it thaws too, so hopefully we can spend some time feeding the fish and the ducks in the spring if you two promise not to terrorize them again. I doubt that will happen though. You two know how to terrorize things more than your parents do.
Speaking of your parents, I heard you two have been asking more and more about your namesakes… and about the past. Cori, I heard that you snooped around in your dad’s office and found a stack of letters addressed to his brother who you’ve never met, and only got caught because you put a paperweight back in the wrong place (which is a very small error for someone your age and you should be prepared for a recruitment letter from Elane Haven… I may have mentioned the story to her).
While it’s not my business to share with you the entire story, I can say that much of what occurred left very profound impacts on your parents and the rest of the people you know. Many of us were not always close or willing to share a room with each other. In fact, only recently has your mother been able to speak with Ptolemus Samos for longer than ten seconds. And while your parents probably celebrated the day both of you displayed your abilities, there is still a deep fear about what occurred in the past to people like you. Norta was not always the States, and people like us did not always enjoy the freedoms we do now. I’ve heard your mom tell you both numerous times to count your blessings, and I have also heard your dad tell you not to joke about wanting to kill each other, and they’re right to say those things. While you might not have understood why they both get so nervous when you joke like that, you have to know that they are still healing all these years later. I didn’t want to be morbid in this letter, given what happened a month ago, but as you two get older and grow up, I feel as if you need to be reminded of what we all fought for. Your mother and father both lost brothers to the war, as you now know, but the extent of that loss probably has not been shared with you two. I encourage you to ask them about those people, but be prepared to hear things you might not like. We all did bad things to survive and hurt a lot of people to get to where we are today. You two are certainly a blessing with everything that has happened in our lives, but one that could never have occurred twenty years ago.
The world is still changing, and people are still growing (even me and your parents). I know you both have gotten angry with them for returning to the front numerous times once you were older, but you have to understand that they are still desperately trying to make the world a safer, better place for you two to grow up in. We all are. We want you and your cousins to have better lives than we did. We want you to have the chance to be kinder and more naïve than we were. We don’t want you to have to fight wars that don’t belong to you, or to have enemies because their parents were our enemies. We want you to be able to walk down the street without having to look over your shoulders like we did and still do at times. We want you to be happier than we were.
I know this is a lot to digest, and I’m sure you’re more than little uncomfortable. But that is okay. As your Uncle Julian has told you numerous times: the past and the truth must make us uncomfortable if we are to change the future. There’s a reason that quote was in my first official address. My hope, and your parents’ hope, is that the wars end before you’re both adults. That way you don’t have to think about entering the military, although I have been told not to discourage either of you from wanting to do that, you’re supposed to be completely free to make that choice. But once again, we want you to be able to make a choice.
Now that I got all of that mushy gushy stuff out of the way that I know you’re both making faces at while you read, I do have some advice for you as your favorite uncle.
1. If you do plan to jump off the cabin roof, make sure you have enough snow to fall into (4-5 feet should do the trick), don’t pack it though, keep it loose and try to avoid any icy patches.
2. Your father is terrible at protecting his left side, so if you want to get him (and kick his butt) during a snow ball fight, I recommend sneaking up on his left.
3. If you really want your mother to not be mad at you for jumping off the cabin roof, give her a kiss on the cheek and remind her that she used to jump off your grandparents’ porch with me when we were your age.
4. If you’re going to play wrestle, no biting, or scratching. Shade, don’t pull on your sister’s hair, and Cori try to refrain from pummeling your brother into the ground.
5. No abilities in the house. Wait for your parents to supervise you please. (Shade I heard you and your mother had a good time making thunder snow the other week, don’t try it on your own unless you want a beating from her that will keep you from sitting down for a month)
6. If you two do decide to ignore #5 go someplace where you parents won’t see you and have a really, really good lie planned for when they find you.
7. When your dad says he’s busy, he’s secretly crying for help and distraction. I recommend dragging him outside to play or putting on your best begging faces. Maximum amount of bothering should get him to move.
8. Ask your dad to play “the game”. It involves all the lights being off and being as quiet as possible. You two normally struggle with that but I’d like to hear how it goes.
9. Your mother cheats at card games. Always cheek her sleeves before and during playing.
10. Don’t tell them I told you to do any of this.
I’m going to keep missing you two the entire time you’re away. I can’t wait to see you again. Don’t grow more than a few inches while you’re gone (this is directed mostly at you, Shade.)
Give each other a hug for me (squeeze twice just like I do). I love you both.
@elliemarchetti @inopinion @scxrletguardsdawn @freaky-freiday @petergrantkavinsky @mareshmallow @farleydiana @king-maven-calore @whatsup-gorls @delilahlbard @evangeline-of-montfort @redqueenetwork
#the secret correspondence of the dancing war#*cries causes it over*#you know i had to go hard with this part#MY FISH BOI DESERVED BETTER THAN HE GOT#red queen#glass sword#kings cage#war storm#broken throne#post broken throne#can't believe Victoria did him like that#one throw away line for the fish boi#no I wont stand for it#he would have doted on Mare and Cal's kids like they were his own#Also did you see what we did there??? With kilorn being the final letter#the boy who couldn't read or write is the one who does the final summary#I love that shit#cyclical and pretty just the way I likeit#marecal#mare barrow#cal calore#kilorn warren#diana farley#coriane barrow calore#shade barrow calore#I had a 1/2 a mind to add a part about them dropping the barrow out of their name#that would have taken too much time though#plus it would have just been him smacking them for something mare or cal woudl do#give me domestic as fuck marecal or give me death
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The Chain (Part 8)
Hello! I’ve returned with a new part!! Sorry this took so long to get out, but I had a hard time with the muse for this story. There are some key things that happen in this chapter that I had to get right for later in the story though. I think I got them all, so ENJOY!
Find the rest of the parts: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7
tag list: @delilahlbard, @king-maven-calore, @thatoddgirl777, @elliekratzzz, @evangelineartemiasamos, @evangeline-of-montfort, @scxrletguardsdawn, @freaky-freiday, @petergrantkavinsky, @kuwei, @whatsup-gorls, @katiemoore (here ya go ((: thank you for your interest), @redqueenetwork(let me know if you want a tag and I’ll add you to the list ((: )
(/Cal/)
I wonder if I will ever stop getting that horrible déjà vu, stomach sinking feeling every time something happens, or if I will just get used to reliving these years. Every moment feels like a knife digging into a wound that spills more blood every time though. At least I’m the one bleeding this time. There are far worse people who will bleed later.
Even a day spent away from this place feels like an eternity. Every second I waited for something to go wrong, for there to be an obvious deviation from what I can remember. Everything flows perfectly though, leaving me with the uneasy feeling that all of this was just too easy. If there is anything I’ve learned my first time living this, it’s never this easy.
Pacing the dimly lit hallways to my rooms, I feel like I’m looking over my shoulder and around every corner, expecting Elara to be stalking me. Expecting the fluttering of her skirts and the sound of her voice, honey sweet and icy as she says my name. I never did forget the sound of it.
The safety my room offers is fake though. The cameras are there; I know they are. Or at least, I think they are. I need to bring Mare in here to see if she can sense them. I had turned everything over looking for them, but hadn’t found anything. They could be very carefully hidden though. Closing the door and leaning against it, I take the crown off my head. I forgot how heavy it was, how much it weighed me down. It had been a comfort once upon a time, but I’ve been a man without a crown too long. I don’t need it as armor anymore. It is a weight around my ankles pulling me deeper. I’m terrified of drowning because of it. The only person who could pull me out can’t though.
The note is waiting for me on my bed, tucked into the folded edge of the sheets. A Scarlet Guard tactic I had been witness to multiple times. Sometimes, when we stayed in the States, Mare and I would come back from dinner or lunch and there would be a note waiting for her. Tucked into the folds of the sheets.
This one is not from anyone in the Scarlet Guard. It’s written in Mare’s scratchy handwriting. I tuck it into my jacket pocket and disappear into the closet to read it.
My rooms. 12:30 tonight, don’t be late, we’ll have ten minutes. Take the tunnels.
My brow raises as I read, before I burn the note to a crisp in my palm. I hadn’t been able to see her for days while I had been at an assembly with my father. I’d kept my ear to the ground about her though. I had half a mind to visit Julian and ask about her. That might give something away though. I can’t risk that.
What news does she have? It can’t be about Maven. There’s been no word from Maven or Elara, and although I had been careful to avoid prodding too much, I never got anything out of my brother. He was still the carefully masked boy I remembered. Even when we were alone in my rooms he never dropped his mask like he had the day Mare arrived in the palace. I wonder if that slip is the only one I will ever see. He is studying me as much as I am studying him though. Every time I speak with him, I worry that I’ll make a mistake that he will pounce on without me knowing. I talk less and less around him, and I know he notices. I fear our conversations, no matter what form they come in.
Opening an empty box, I dump the ashes of Mare’s note inside before turning and stripping my jacket off. My door creeks open, and I turn toward the sound. Near silent steps make my heart pound. The light is on in the closet, whoever just entered will have an easy time finding me.
Edging toward the doorway, I glance out, only to see Maven’s form fold into his usual chair by the window. It’s as if I’ve summoned him from the folds of the shadows.
It’s late and I have to meet Mare in two hours. We can’t play a game that fast, not if he wants to chat like he always does. I edge out of the closet and his eyes catch sight of my refection in the widow. He drapes an arm over the chair as he turns to look at me and gives me a smile. “I heard you almost gave father heart palpitations this morning when you questioned one of our generals.”
I purse my lips. News travels faster than I remember here. Shrugging, I cross the room to sink into my chair as well. “There’s nothing wrong with asking in-depth questions.”
“Since when are you asking questions about missing regiments though?” He tilts his head to the side as he speaks. The warm light dances on his cheek bones. A boy playing in the light, when he prefers the shadows.
Glancing out the window at the moonless night, I shrug, hiding my discomfort at the thought. “Our people are restless. I noticed a discrepancy. We can’t make mistakes right now.”
“So a group of Red soldiers goes missing and all the sudden you are digging in the mud for answers about missing taxes, and security protocols in the villages?” Maven huffs at that and slowly begins setting up his side of the table.
I glance down at my own pieces, marveling at the irony of this moment. There are two games of chess starting, one with words and intentions, and another with pieces. “Again, there is nothing wrong with looking into the wellbeing of our people.”
His eyes dart up to me. “Is this about Mare?”
My stomach curls at how quickly he cuts to the bone of my decisions. He’d always danced around questions like that, never outright asking. Had my digging been too intensive? It’s not like I was stepping on his toes or anything yet. But maybe I was. He was supposed to be the one Mare trusted to change things, not me. I was the one who never understood her ideals.
I had asked about the regiment because I wanted to know how they were finding the new bloods though. I wanted to know how I could find them first and shuttle them to safety. Mare and I hadn’t saved many lives in our time with the Guard. I want to at least try and remedy that.
“She got me thinking.” I finally admit, as I sit back in my chair to watch his expression. He glances down at my pieces that I haven’t moved yet before picking up his queen piece and turning it over in his fingers.
You could have been my Red Queen. That’s what he had told her in cells below the Bowl of Bones. Is he already thinking about that? About what she could be to him someday?
“She has a lot of people thinking.” His words a low, a warning and a statement. “The Iral’s have been snooping around.”
“I’m sure your mother handled that with the grace she handles everything.” I swallow the bitter tone that I want to speak with. I’m supposed to be indifferent to Elara at this point. But every time I see her, my blood boils. She destroyed Mare, and she destroyed my brother before he had the chance to be who he was meant to be. She took him from me and twisted him so much that I had no chance of saving him.
His shrugs, and gives me a boyish smile he perfected in the mirror years ago. “Mare won’t have to worry as much, as long as she doesn’t slip up.”
“Is she doing well?” I ask as I finally move my pieces, determined to end our little verbal dance. The tension in his shoulders eases as I do that. Putting his piece back he leans forward and says with a smile that cuts me like a knife because of how gentle it is.
“I think she is.”
(////////)
I knock on the secret door in Mare’s rooms exactly two hours later. I have no idea where it opens too, but I assume it’s the closet because that’s where mine is. It opens a crack almost immediately and I slip inside. She must have been waiting by the door. Her room is completely dark and I reach out blindly with a hand to find her before her hand latches onto my wrist.
She chuckles when I jump and teases with a whisper, “You’re getting sloppy if you didn’t immediately grab me from behind the door.”
I light a small fire in my other hand, and bring her features into focus in the dark. We’re surrounded by clothes that I make sure to avoid with the flame. This is her closet then. That’s good to know.
Her hair is unbound, falling to her shoulders in waves that she pushes over her shoulders. Giving me a little smile before dropping my wrist, she says, “light a candle, and we’ll make this quick.”
She slips away into the shadows of her room before disappearing into the bathroom, her robe cutting across the ground. I follow her out of the closet, keeping my steps quiet like hers. A candle waits on the vanity next to it. In the time it takes for the wick to catch with my fire, I hear her turn every faucet on in the bathroom.
I follow her in there with the candle. When I glance at the running water in the tub and then the sink, she shrugs. “Precaution. I don’t think there are any listening devices but I don’t want to risk it.”
“How did you get the cameras off?” I ask quickly, wondering if I might be able to give us time in my rooms too.
“My secret.” She replies as she steps closer to me so that we’re almost chest to chest. I set the candle down on the edge of the tub in response. When I glower at her, she rolls her eyes. “I wriggled it out of Julian that the guards change stations at 12:30 and the camera room is empty for exactly ten minutes.”
“That is very, very bad security flaw.” I murmur down to her, as I bow my head to trail my lips along her hairline, inhaling the smell of her shampoo. It’s sweeter than anything she would use normally. She usually smells like oak with a hint of ozone. Now she smells like honey and lilac, it doesn’t really suit her. Her fingers rest on my chest and she whispers, “No time for that. We need to talk about Julian.”
My blood goes cold at the mention of my uncle. And she pulls away a half step to look up and meet my eye. Her breath is warm on my face as she stands on her toes to speak quickly. “I think we should tell him. He’ll understand, and he’ll be able to help.”
I almost sag in relief. I thought she was going to tell me that he had figured something out. “That’s one more person that knows what’s going on though, and one more person we have to keep in the loop.”
As wonderful as it would be to have my uncle involved, he’ll want to get Sara involved too, and soon there would be four of us all trying to hide the same thoughts from Elara. At least if it’s just me and Mare, we can be far enough apart and vary our thoughts enough to keep our secret.
“I can keep him in the loop during our Lessons. I really think we need him, Cal.” She argues, her fingers closing around mine as she squeezes. I shake my head and gesture between us.
“And what happens if you tell him and he tells us to run? Or what if he messes something up by trying to do something himself?”
She turns her eyes away and chews on her lip for a moment, contemplating. We have maybe five minutes left before I have to disappear out of her rooms. We don’t have time to get into a full blown pros and cons argument.
Reaching out to cup her cheek and turn her head to face me, I whisper, “I want his help as much as you do, but if we tell him, we might risk never finding Giselle. We don’t know what the effects of it could be.”
Exhaling an irritated sigh through her nose, she grumbles, “You’re probably right. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“You never like it when I’m right.”
Her lips twist at my words, until she reaches up to rest her hand on mine. In the dim light it’s still hard to read her expression when she asks, “Are you all right?”
I look away before saying, “Maven came to see me tonight.”
“Is that out of the ordinary?” Her voice is cold and her eyes are narrowed when I look back at her. Shaking my head in answer, I turn away to run my hand through my hair. “He was asking about something I did earlier today.”
Her silence is brittle and I tense for only a moment, knowing she will probably drop kick me out a window when she hears what I did. Glancing at her over my shoulder I say, “I was asking about Storm Legion, and about the Reds that were transferred into it.”
“Shade’s legion?” She murmurs dubiously, her brows scrunching as she thinks over those words. Suddenly they shoot up to her hairline and she spits in furious whisper, “Cal!”
“I had asked about it the first time too. Just… not as in depth.”
“You just told me we couldn’t bring Julian in on this because we have no idea what effect it might have, but you’re running around willy nilly doing who knows what by asking questions you shouldn’t be!” She shoves her hands into her hair and her fury is enough that the lights in the chandelier overhead flicker to life for a moment.
“I’m trying to help us later—”
“While almost getting yourself caught! What were you thinking? Better yet, were you even thinking at all?”
“You don’t need to talk to me like I’m a child,” I snap. She immediately falls silent, but the anger still flickers in her eyes. She inhales slowly and exhales at the same speed, like she’s buying time.
Eventually, when I assume she’s calmed down enough not to scream, she asks, “What did you find out?”
“Nothing, no one would tell me anything.” The same thing had happened before. I had been told not to worry about it, that it was just another regiment of soldiers. The same excuses had come out this time too.
“Stop poking at things you shouldn’t poke at, Cal.” She demands before walking to the candle and picking it up. I watch her movements, trying to read exactly how upset she is. I suppose if she were on the verge of killing me like I thought she would for half a second, she would have called me Tiberias. “You need to go, time’s almost up.”
“Mare—”
“Go, Cal. We can’t make another mistake.”
When we had stayed in Paradise Valley the first time since the end of the war, we had made a promise. We had both agreed that we would never go to bed angry with each other. If something happened to the other the next day, we didn’t want our last memories to be of fighting. It was a good promise; one I didn’t intend to break just because we are back here.
Drawing myself to my full height, I plant my feet and say, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be hypocritical. I was trying to help us later though.”
Her eyes dance to me for a moment, wary of my apology and my reasoning. She looks away again, her hand tightening around the candle. “I know.” As if those words have the rest of her anger in them, her shoulders drop and her fingers loosen on the candle.
My shoulders relax too, even when she turns quickly to face me again. Her voice is softer this time, but just as forceful. “You don’t need to be such a damn hero. You don’t need to try and right whatever wrongs you committed. You right them eventually, that should be enough.”
I hadn’t been trying to do that, at least, I didn’t think that had been my intentions. Maybe she was right though. I step closer to her again, sliding my hand around her waist as I guide her out of the bathroom and toward the closet. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
As soon as we step back in the closet, she stands on her toes to press a kiss to my cheek. “Be careful, please. We have... so much waiting for us.”
She wanted to say something else, I know she did. There’s no time to ask questions though. I’ll have to ask her about it another time. Turning my head to complete the kiss for a heartbeat, I murmur, “No more righting wrongs. I got it.”
Still her fingers close around my mine as I open the door, and trail along them as I leave, like she is trying to hold on for a long as possible. I wish I could go back through the door once its closed though and crawl into bed with her and pretend that we aren’t here. I wonder if she feels the same way.
(//////////)
The days are monotonous while I wait for the ball. I ease into the schedules and the meetings, keeping my mouth shut like I told Mare I would. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to strangle Volo Samos with my bare hands sometimes though. Or from wanting to argue with my father until we’re both out of breath. Right now is one of those times.
“Between us, conscription letters might be what gives me early arthritis,” he grumbles, even though I can hear the laughter in his tone. I look up from the papers I’m reading to watch him flex his fingers a few times. The large stack of letters on his other side still waiting to be signed makes my stomach drop.
“I suppose you could sign less of them.” I murmur before looking back to my papers. I don’t have the patience today to joke about something like that. I’m still nauseous from hearing about another young Red legion that didn’t make it back from the trenches. Fifty eighteen year olds too ill prepared for what waited for them. Even out of the corner of my eye I can see his expression fall.
I feel like the time that I am spending with him should be a gift, but almost everything he says makes me want to shout him down. I had been just as ignorant too once upon a time. This is the curse I suppose of reliving the past. Sighing, I set my book of numbers down and massage the bridge of my nose. “I’m sorry, I’m tired.”
He watched me carefully before saying, “You’re working too hard. If it’s not Shadow Legion, it something else.”
I work harder someday to fix the mistakes our people made, I want to grumble. I had plenty of sleepless nights after I abdicated. Shaking myself out, I lean back in my chair to avoid meeting his eye. He tilts his head to the side, his expression softening further. “It’ll get easier once we handle this Scarlet Guard and return to Archeon.”
“I’ll be at the front by that point.” A lie. I never make it there with Shadow Legion. But I do make it to another front.
“You were always more comfortable there.” He reasons, and reaches for the next letter. The only reason I was so comfortable there was because he had pushed me harder than Maven to be there. Elara would have never let her son go to the front as much as I did. I have a feeling she was hoping a stray bullet with my name on it would embed itself in my skull. It would certainly make her coup easier. Too bad that bullet was never made.
“Do you think my mother would be happy with that?” I ask finally bringing my eyes back to him. The moment the words are out, I want to swallow them, especially when his eyes shutter and then light with a fire I hadn’t seen in a long time. He sets his pen down and speaks with the dangerously low tone that made me shut up as a kid. “That is a question I don’t have an answer for.”
Maybe it’s how bitter I am with the whole situation, maybe it’s the fact that I read her diary and know the truth of her desires. But I can’t keep the next words from escaping. “Something tells me she wouldn’t.”
“Your mother was young. She wasn’t well after you were born.”
“Funny, Julian says—”
“Is he where all this is coming from?” His voice is quiet thunder, a storm about to break. I was in dangerous territory now. I don’t drop my gaze, but I do pull back into my seat a little bit, giving some ground. He’s a blood hound though, and smells trouble for my mindset. He won’t let it go now. “He’s always been soft about the Red situation. Has he been pushing you to question things that are not your business yet? Has he been speaking to you about treasonous things?”
“No.” I state coolly. I knew Julian and my father had a rough relationship, especially because of Elara. If he is searching for a reason to dismiss Julian entirely I won’t let it come from me. Especially with the safe haven he creates for Mare. Another misstep, another poor choice of words. Mare would kill me if she found out I was the reason she lost her teacher.
“If he is whispering poison in your ear, I worry for our little Red girl that we have entrusted him with.” His hands curl into fists on the table and his bracelets spark. I swallow, trying to think of the words that will fix this. Why couldn’t I just keep my emotions in check? I was smarter than this. I’d picked the wrong fight and now I was going to have to dig my way out.
“Julian hasn’t told me anything. I’ve just… I’ve just been thinking about my mother a lot. Leading up to Queenstrial I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I know so little about her.” I’d know about that deal they made since the time I could understand what it had meant. While my father was not the first to marry outside of Queenstrial, he would be the last. Elara would be the last Queen chosen by the ancient rite.
My words soften the anger that he has barely reigned in, and he slowly sinks into his chair. Shaking his head and reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he says, “I’ve told you about her. You know everything I know.”
Lie, lie, lie.
I’ve got myself out though, I won’t argue again. “I’m sorry for bringing it up.”
When he looks up at me this time, his face is more drawn than I remember. There is far more grey in his hair than my nightmares let me remember too. He drunk himself to an early old age. I’d sworn to myself I wouldn’t do the same.
The door into the council room opens once more, announcing the beginning of our next meeting. Maven enters before anyone else, dressed for the event. He looks like a prince, like a king. How could I ever think I could compete with him. He had been right when he told Mare I was a blunt force weapon. I wasn’t Farley, who was good at questioning orders and making decision. I was good at being put on target and used. If this whole series of events didn’t show that, I didn’t know what else did.
He eyes the two of us carefully, reading the tension in the room as he sits on the other side of our father. He’ll catalogue that away for later, probably to inform his mother that there is something wedging itself between us. Wonderful. I’ve slipped again. I can only hope this doesn’t come to bite me.
I give him a smile nonetheless though, and he returns it. We play the parts of loving brothers easily. No wonder I believed everything. He’s a good enough actor for both of us. This time at least I know my script, and I know my role. “This tax briefing won’t be easy today.”
His lips curl up at the challenge. “Are they ever?”
#The Chain#red queen#glass sword#kings cage#war storm#broken throne#post broken throne#my fanfics#my writing#marecal#the eternal ship#we stan one should be married couple trying not to be stupid#and we stan (1) dumbass man that just wants to be a good person#cal calore#mare barrow#maven calore#oh he gets more time dont worry lovelies#once again#I am asking for more Maven and Cal interaction#we get a big time just in the next chapter.#so excited
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The Secret Correspondence of the Dancing War - Part 3
A/N: Part 3 of the accurate epilogue of Broken Throne because once again, Regina and I are bitter that Victoria did not give us the closure we want. This letter while burned to almost a crisp was saved by me and @elane-in-the-shadows. Part I / Part II
iii. Cal
December 10th 330
Maven,
It’s been a while since I wrote to you or visited you. I hope you don’t mind. Things have been busier these past few years. I honestly don’t remember the last time I got a full night’s rest. Even now, I’m writing to you at 3 in the morning because I can’t sleep. Mare’s going to kill me too. She already has a hard time sleeping because of the baby. She doesn’t waste time blaming me for that. Funny enough, I don’t mind her teasing about it. The fact that it is even happening makes me feel like I could make electricity myself.
Right, I should probably catch you up on what’s happened. To be honest, a lot of it is fuzzy for me. Since my promotion two years ago, I’ve spent more time on the front lines dealing with the Lakelanders than I have in my lifetime. Your ex-wfie is more of a pain in the ass than I ever thought possible. Like you, she’s a brilliant strategist. I think… given time you two might have found kindred spirits within each other. And while this whole dance between the States and the Lakelands has been exhausting, the good news is that Iris hasn’t had the chance to throw me in any more bays. Mare probably wouldn’t think that joke is funny, but I’m sure you will.
Anyway, four months ago Mare wrote to me telling me to ask for a leave of absence. That she needed me to come back to Montfort because it was urgent. It took more convincing than I would have liked to get that leave. Sometimes I miss being a prince, for the sole reason that if I needed something I didn’t have to wait for people to sit around debating about it, it was just done. But that’s beside the point. When I got back to Montfort, Mare had a, let’s just call it a surprise for me because I can’t think of anything else to call it. A gift? It certainly didn’t feel like it at first. I think all the blood drained from my face when she told me. We argued about it. It’s honestly the first fight we’ve had in a long time, but she won. She always does, as you know. I retired my uniform and she retired hers and we bought a little apartment near her parents’ town house. She wants them close when the baby is born. I get that. I would want my family there too. I wish you could be here. I think you’d be surprised how strong she already is. The other day Mare made me feel how hard she was kicking and it was one of the strangest things I’ve ever experienced. How can something so small kick that hard? She’s going to be a force of nature; I know she will be. Mare’s her mother after all. I can’t even begin to tell you how strange it is to write that. To think that in a few weeks she’s going to be here.
Mare agreed to let me name her, as long as she gets to name the next one. She had her fingers crossed for a boy. She wants to name any son we have after her brother. I think I’m going to name our daughter after my mother though. Coriane Barrow Calore sounds pretty doesn’t it? But I may just be biased.
At first, I wanted to drop my name and just keep Mare’s, but she insisted we keep both. Our family line is as much a part of my daughter’s legacy as it is mine. Removing our name would be like trying to erase the past. We’re trying to correct it though. I’d say so far we’re doing a decent job. Notra is on track finally, and Evangeline has been hard at work as an ambassador with both the Lakelands and Prairie. We’re both desperately trying to fix the mistakes our ancestors made.
And I guess I’m writing to you tonight because of that. I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep because all I can think about it that family name. Our father’s name, and ours. Looking back on everything, I realize now what you went through, what you must have felt like. I can’t sleep because I’m terrified of repeating our father’s mistakes. He made so many. I didn’t realize it until Mare told me she was pregnant and I started thinking about my own childhood. I’m terrified that I’ll somehow show my daughter that she doesn’t matter to me, that there is something or someone who comes before her. What if she sees what I do and what I am, and wants to follow in my footsteps? What if she does that because she feels like she has to? I don’t want her to struggle like I did. I don’t want her to think she is duty bound to a fate because of me or because of Mare. You would know what to say. You always knew exactly what to say.
And I guess I also was hoping you could… endow some of your speech ability on me to write another letter to the Silver Session. You handled them all so well as king, (better than I ever could have hoped too) and I wish I had half of your political sense, just because it would make my life so much easier. You always had such politic ways of telling people to go screw themselves. I need a way to say that right now that doesn’t turn a bunch of cranky, old, irritating silvers into more of a political threat.
By my colors I miss you. It comes at me like a wave sometimes. I’ll just be walking or sitting and then it’s there and I feel like I can���t breathe. You left a hole that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to close. The other night, I realized your birthday was coming up. You would have been 28 this year. I realized that while Mare and I were walking back from dinner. When she asked me why I got so quiet, I told her the truth. She was quiet for a long time too, then she asked me if we would tell our children about you. I don’t know if you want me to. Or which person I should talk about. A part of me didn’t believe the last thing you told me. I know that the boy who used to stay up until ungodly hours playing chess with me was in there somewhere. I know that the brother who used to joke with me and play along with my terrible lies I told to get out of trouble was in there. I know the young man that was braver than I ever could be was in there somewhere. I wish I could have found him. I wish I could have saved you. Maven I have never regretted anything more than the fact that I turned a blind eye to your suffering or what your mother did to you. Maybe you’d be here with me today if I hadn’t. Maybe you would get to hold your niece. Or maybe, maybe she wouldn’t even be here. To be honest, I don’t know. I learned a long time ago that playing the what if game just hurts more.
I hope you are at peace. I hope you are resting and that you somehow do get these letters. I hope you know that even at the end, you were my brother, and I loved you. I still do. I’ll come visit you soon, maybe after Coriane is born. Although I’ll probably be even busier then. I suppose I’ll just have to write in the meantime.
As always, your brother,
Cal
@elliemarchetti @farleydiana @scxrletguardsdawn @petergrantkavinsky @freaky-freiday @inopinion @mareshmallow @evangelineartemiasamos @evangeline-of-montfort @delilahlbard @king-maven-calore @whatsup-gorls @redqueenetwork
#red queen#the secret correspondence of the dancing war#glass sword#kings cage#war storm#broken throne#post broken throne#regina and I rewrite the epilogue#cause we have taken control of this fandom now#red queen fan fiction#red queen fanfiction#mare barrow#cal calore#diana farley#clara farley-barrow#ITS THE GIRL FIRST#lil coriane#I have many many headcanons about her and her brother#kilorn warren#marecal#cuties I love them all
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The Chain (Part 7)
Main concept: Two love struck idiots get sent back to a pretty UGH time period in their lives (that required me to reread all the books again) and have to hide the fact that they know everything.
Find Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
tag list: @delilahlbard, @king-maven-calore, @thatoddgirl777, @elliekratzzz, @evangelineartemiasamos, @evangeline-of-montfort, @scxrletguardsdawn, @freaky-freiday, @petergrantkavinsky, @kuwei, @whatsup-gorls, @katiemoore (here ya go ((: thank you for your interest), @redqueenetwork(let me know if you want a tag and I’ll add you to the list ((: )
I wake to watery blue sunlight. The sun has just finished peaking over the horizon, making me grumble immediately. There was no reason I should be up this early. I didn’t schedule training, and I didn’t promise Gisa breakfast. Besides, I’m exhausted and my head is foggy, which is a very unwelcome combination.
Sighing loud enough that Cal should hear me, I bring my arm up to cover my eyes. “Cal, close the curtains.” I murmur, before smacking what would normally be his back. I only hit empty sheets though. My eyes fly open as I sit bolt upright.
This isn’t Montfort.
The buzzing in my head is from the cameras trained on me, and the fogginess is from the alcohol last night. The alcohol I drank to keep from grabbing the knife next to my hand and stabbing it through the top of Maven’s when he reached across to offer me a glass of water. Even with that moment, I had made it through the night. I had given him a smile, one that I almost thought was real. I’d forgotten that he had been funny, that he had a good sense of humor. He was kind to me last night. I know he had been the first time around too. Deep down in a place that Elara had never touched, he had protected that kernel of love that made him fall in love with a Red boy in Corvium. I wonder if Thomas knew that he was one of the few things that kept Maven from completely losing his mind. So odd how two Reds made two princes question everything.
I rub at my forehead to try and alleviate the ache there before giving up and throwing the comforter back to swing my legs to the side. The marble floor is freezing, especially after the warmth of my bedding. I wish Cal was here, just so I could throw myself back under the blankets and I stick my feet against his legs to warm them. He always hissed at the feeling when I did it, but let me anyway, only to leach the warmth from one of his hands and press it against my thigh to make me squeal.
I have half a mind to crawl back into bed, bury myself in pillows and blankets, and pretend I’m in Paradise Valley during a snow storm. A light knock on my door startles me though, and wipes away the remaining fog in my mind. No rest for the wicked apparently.
Standing quickly and ignoring the gooseflesh that erupts on my skin, I hurry over to the chair where I unceremoniously tossed my robe from last night. I blindly shove one arm into a sleeve and call for another second from the maids waiting outside, hoping they at least give me that time to look semi-decent.
The three of them hurry in though, the one at the front carrying my dreaded schedule. I’d almost forgotten about it, and honestly wish that I had. Lessons that will bore me to tears, and then tense lunches and dinners with the ladies of the court are going to haunt my days while Elara stalks my nightmares. More acting, more games within games, I think I’d rather run head first into a wall than do all of that.
The girl, who can’t be much older than me, dips her head as she offers the thin piece of paper, drawing a sigh from me as I take it and sink reluctantly into the vanity chair. I know exactly what it will say, but that doesn’t stop me from scanning it to check for discrepancies. Nothing seems out of place. Then again, Elara was too smart to give herself away on something like this.
Protocol lessons will be miserable. I can remember most of what I learned, but I can’t exactly show up and claim that. Maybe I can tell Cal to put me in training earlier. There was no harm in that right?
I know that the best part of my day will be Julian. I hadn’t seen him at the feast last night, not that he would show up to something like that. He probably spent the night surrounded by his books, sipping whatever bitter alcohol he was willing to stomach for the night. If he’s on my schedule, Elara can’t possibly know anything. She wouldn’t dare put us together. He’d been a major collaborator with me, and we posed a serious threat because of that.
I read the schedule over and over again as the maids arrange my hair and pick out my outfit. When I glance over my shoulder at the tight leggings on the bed that have been laid out, I grimace. “Anything more… practical?”
The maid brushing out the skirts of the gown to go with them glances at my closet hesitantly, only to disappear inside again. Another maid turns my head forward to the mirror as she begins painting my neck, chest and face with the silver paint. Her hands are delicate. With the work she does, and how well she does it, she must be an artist of some sort.
Pants and a jacket appear in my peripheral vision, a silent question from the maid holding. I nod in agreement, and she hurries away to press and prepare them. My skin crawls in the growing silence. I can’t even hear the birds that are probably singing as they wake up outside.
I don’t remember it being this awkward. Then again, I had been so focused on avoiding mistakes that I didn’t have time to think about the people around me. It had been that selfish part of me that fed the character of Mareena. She had died years ago though, and I plan to keep her dead and buried after what I did as her.
I glance at myself in the mirror again, looking over the paint as the maid finishes and begins lining my eyes. It has been a long time since I let someone put this heavy of makeup on me. I look wicked and lovely. Beautiful, like a knife Evangeline would twirl between her fingers.
Today will be the first chance to truly observe Elara since our encounter in the cells. Nothing appeared amiss last night, but I wasn’t going to put anything to chance in this den of wolves. Too much rides on my success to fail at this point.
Stepping carefully into the pants, I let one of the maids help me into the jacket. Her fingers dance along my skin quicker than my lightning, careful to avoid touching the paint and smearing it. I feel like a china doll that might shatter if they handle me too roughly.
Still, I’m ready earlier than I anticipate. Lucas and I might be able to simply stroll through the palace instead of the sprinting walk I remember from my first day. Even if I had arrived late before, arriving early this time around won’t change anything. In fact, it might even make Elara over look me more. I could use that to my advantage when I start poking my nose in places it doesn’t belong.
The maids bow away from me when they finish, their hands tucked into the sides of their skirts. I raise my chin at the girl looking back at me in the mirrors. She looks cold, colder than I remember. I won’t let her take over again though. I won’t let her get the foothold she got during my initial time here. She had been armor then, but she’d still almost drowned me before I threw her to the side to save myself.
Swallowing I turn away from the mirror and whisper my thanks to the maids before crossing the room for the doors. One rushes to open it for me, her eyes downcast. I glance her over, taking in her delicate features. She reminds me of Gisa so much, my stomach turns thinking about it. What is Gisa doing now besides bemoaning a lost future along with her broken hand? She heals, I remind myself, even if a part of her will never forget that phantom pain.
I want to reach out and set my hand on this girl’s shoulder though. I want to comfort her, if only to reassure myself that everything will be fine. I squeeze my hand in a fist though and thank her before stepping into the hallway. I shouldn’t be thanking them so much, but the words leave my lips so easily.
Lucas waits across the hall, his expression carefully schooled into neutrality. But the minute I step out and smirk at him, his lips quirk up in that grin that sometimes haunts my nightmares. He would have continued giving that smile to world if it wasn’t for me.
“Babysitting duty again?” I tease lightly, hiding the hitch in my breath by adjusting my jacket and pulling it closed too tightly. Nodding in the direction of the breakfast room and starting at a comfortable pace for my short legs, he says, “Do you want an honest answer?”
With a shrug, I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. He gives me another smile and I give him a weak one in reply. “Here’s to us having a good friendship, Officer Samos.” I can’t bring myself to wish for it to be long. The pang I’d felt when I saw him for the first time again was not as bad as I thought it would be. It still ached, but at least I didn’t feel like I was swallowing nails when I looked at him. Maven was another matter entirely. The only positive was that I didn’t have to see him much around here. Not yet that is.
“Likewise, my lady.”
I chuckle at the title, both disgusted and amused by it.
The breakfast room is empty when Lucas ushers me in ahead of him though. And when he enters on my heels, he glances around for a moment before whispering that the queen should be on her way. With a quick, practiced bow, he departs from the room.
I’m earlier than I expected. I had hoped Elara was here already, that way she wouldn’t have the chance to surprise me. Lucas’s quick departure means Elara cannot be far away though, and I wonder if she scares him as much as she does everyone else. It’s odd to think everyone sneered at Cal’s mother just because there was a possibility that she had sung his father into marrying her, yet no one dared to whisper about the possibility that Elara might have done the same thing. I think if anyone tried they would end up dead though. I want to believe I would have said something.
I walk by the wall of windows that overlook one of the numerous gardens, watching the way the rising sun’s rays catch on the dewy grass below. Reaching my hand out, I let the light play on the rings decorating my fingers. I miss my engagement ring, as silly as that is. I never thought I would miss a piece of jewelry. Still, I missed tracing the braided bands with my thumb and spinning it on my finger. It had become a habit during meetings while I was thinking. I miss that blood red stone the most though.
The door from the other side of the room opens, and I tilt my head to see who it might be in the glass. Too bright to be Elara. My lips curl up in a smile as I spot Evangeline’s curtain of platinum hair cut across my peripheral vision.
“Good morning, Lady Samos,” I tell her, not bothering to look at her as I do. Just the fact that I am not remotely surprised by her appearance will make her blood boil. I’m sure she spent countless hours perfecting her hair and outfit to make me feel inferior. The fact that I haven’t even deigned to give her the response she wants will send her reeling. I know it will. She’s too calculating to let it show when she replies though.
“Such a change of costume for you Lady Titanos. Where are the pretty dresses?”
“I figured today called for practicality. Don’t you agree?” I finally turn to look at her, my smile rapier sharp. She returns the smile, her fingers dancing at her side.
Turning toward the table to sit down, I catch Elara sliding into the room like a wraith. Our eyes meet and I drop mine quickly, building up the mirrors I did when she first tried to invade my mind. It’s a maze in there, one that even I wouldn’t be able to find my way through. I trust it to hold, but only for a short time. My brain might be jelly by the end of this breakfast and I’ll have to go through the rest of my day with a headache if I’m not careful.
Even during the long, grueling interrogation I had been terrified that she would find a crack in my armor, that she would slip through and find everything. I didn’t want to think about how pathetic I had felt, locked up in that silent stone cell, panic lacing my blood like a drug. There had been no way out, no way out if anything went horribly wrong. I guess I should be thankful that nothing did go wrong.
She walks to the head of the table, where a neat placement is waiting for her. “You should eat quickly, Lady Blonos does not tolerate tardiness.” She drops into her chair with cat like grace, and without another word. One of the servants that came in with her hurries forward with a bowl of fruit.
I edge toward the table, but not before Evangeline cuts by me, one of the rings on her finger elongating to a point that she tries to swipe at my hand with. I yank my hand away to grab the chair and pull it back, hiding the dodge expertly. My eyes dart to her, and although she tries to hide her surprise at my agility, some of it still slips out.
“You’re still taking Protocol?” She asks as she slides into her chair, trying to hide her discomfort as I do the same.
Raising a brow at her, I smoother my confusion. “You mean you aren’t?”
A servant places a bowl in front of me, but I don’t tear my eyes from Evangeline. What possessed her to try and snap at me like she did? I know she wants the truth, and I know she’ll eventually try to get it in the training arena, but I didn’t think she’d be bold enough to try here. Maybe she thinks Elara isn’t in on it, and she’d get away with exposing me? I doubt it. Evangeline is not stupid. She knows a puppeteer when she sees one.
I pick up my fork and spear a melon before taking my knife and spinning it just enough that it catches the light. With a graceful flick of my wrist I slice of the extra green rim that must have been missed. Evangeline eyes the fluidity of the movement though, her cheek twitching imperceptibly at the silent threat.
(///////)
I hate Protocol.
That is all I think as I stalk with Lucas toward the Glass Terrace for luncheon. I hate Lady Blonos and I can’t wait until I never have to see her again. Cranky, nasty old woman, with fingers like spiders grabbing my shoulders. A heartbeat after the thought crosses my mind though, I grimace. She dies a quick death at least. My hand twitches towards my own throat, imaging the blade that severed her head from her shoulders. There will be one at my throat too soon enough, when Evangeline faces me in the Bowl of Bones.
In my distraction, I almost miss when we step out into the warm sunlight. My first inhale of fresh air settles my nerves though. What I wouldn’t give to be outside all day. But as I step under the glass canopy, I end up just hoping I don’t sweat my paint off. It’s hotter out here than I remember, and the humidity is miserable. At least in Montfort when it got warm there was a breeze. A bead of sweat rolls down my neck, and I tense as it rolls between my shoulders blades. Shimmying to get rid of it, I feel a few more beads pop up on my hairline. Cursing, I try to stand as still as possible.
Elane appears in front of me so suddenly I feel like she purposefully cloaked herself to surprise me. Sonya is not far behind her either. Two parts of Evangeline’s little trio. I wonder if she kept Sonya around to hide her affair with Elane. I doubt it. Sonya would have figured out the truth before anyone else.
“Lady Mareena,” they coo in unison, before bowing stiffly. I incline my head in response, playing the game they have started.
“I’m Sonya of House Iral.” Soyna tosses her hair gracefully. I can see the way she shifts to make sure that movement is perfect. I would smirk at the posturing if I wasn’t focusing on locating Elara in the crowd of ladies.
“And I’m Elane of House Haven.”
Oh, I know. I’ve had far too many awkward walk-ins on you and Evangeline in her office for my liking. Then again, she had snuck up on me and Cal plenty of times too. A perfect little spy. Her lips curl up in a delicate smile as I look her up and down. Flirt, I want to tease, and have to almost swallow my tongue to keep from saying just that.
“We wanted to welcome you.” Elane says as she looks me over as well. A few weeks ago in Montfort, she had looked me up and down under the outdoor lights of a restaurant too. Smiling after I had thrown my head back to laugh at something Carmadon had said, she remarked that I was glowing. I had turned a pointed glare on her, and she had turned away to sip her wine with a smirk. I’d waved her away saying it was just a trick of the light. Now, I can feel the same stare as she observes me, looking for the most minute details to hold against me.
“Thank you.” I clear my throat after that, letting her know she’s stared just a little too long. Her lips purse just a hint, and her cheeks flush white under her makeup.
“You also participated in Queenstrial?” I ask quickly, giving her a chance to recover. She may be a pain in the ass now, but she is my friend in the future and I don’t need Sonya getting any ideas about anything.
Still, Sonya almost sneers at my words. “We did. Obviously we were not so lucky as you or Evangeline.”
Luck really had nothing to do with it. I would never consider myself lucky. I dip my head in understanding. “My intentions—”
“Your intentions remain to be seen,” Sonya purrs, before turning about quickly and snapping her fingers. “Grandmother, come meet Lady Mareena.”
I scan the crowd of older women that Ara departs from, looking for a familiar orange gown. Anabel is nowhere to be seen though. I don’t know why I thought she would be here. How had she managed to slip back into the court during Maven’s reign though?
Ara eyes me even as she walks over, making me stand a little taller to try and appear like I’m uncomfortable with her presence. It doesn’t take much to do that though. All I have to think about it how Ptolemus severed her head from her body.
Sonya yaps away, trying to make me uncomfortable, and for a moment she probably thinks she’s succeeding. It’s Shade’s face flashing through my mind at the same time that I remember the light leaving his eyes that really drives me to shake slowly though. I can almost taste the smoke of Corros on my tongue when I inhale. I can hear the airship engines screaming behind me, calling me like a siren song. All I had to do was turn and keep running for them. But Shade, Shade had to come back for me because I had to get my revenge.
My stomach drops and I know my face pales. Not right now, I can’t fall apart right now. I squeeze my hands into fists, focusing on my nails dig into my palms.
Sonya finally stops speaking and I almost jump before dipping my head. “Apologies for my absent… thoughts. It’s a pleasure to meet you my lady.”
“I knew your father, Mareena. And your mother.” Ara observes coolly, her eyes looking me over like a butcher would their next slaughter.
“I wish I could have known them like you do.” I reply, my mind still trying to keep up with the conversation while also trying to prevent a barrage of Samson’s carefully concocted memories from taking over. It’s a losing battle. My stomach turns as the Blackrun going down plays at an inhuman speed. Metal tears around me, and wind whips at my hair. I’m falling so fast that I can’t even draw enough air to scream. Am I falling into a cage or am I standing in a garden full of pretty women with fangs and claws? Am I wrapped in Cal’s arms or am I suffocating in the heat of this glass gazebo?
“Your father had blue eyes, as did your mother.” Ara tests, her expression cold.
I drag my eyes up and dare to meet hers. I tilt my head to the side, the sound of the gardens fading back into focus as by sheer willpower I force the memories back so that I can gather enough air to breathe. There is no way out of the corner I am in, and I can’t even begin to think of something to say to fill the silence. A whisper of skirts on stone distracts Ara as Elara cuts behind us to ask everyone to sit. I hide the twist of relief in my stomach by dipping my head again and excusing myself.
(/////////)
I’m so deep in my own thoughts, planning responses for any future Iral interrogations that I almost miss Maven appearing around the corner on my way to Julian’s.
“Still alive?” His words make my back snap to ram rod straightness as I come to an abrupt stop that makes even Lucas stumble. My toes curl in my shoes and I can almost feel my lightning begging to come to the fore as Maven closes the distance. Why does he have to look so kind and young? How could I not have seen the honey coated trap for what it was? I’d needed a friend though, and he had been the perfect map to mirror all my insecurities onto. Elara probably didn’t even need to read my mind to know that.
Play the game. I remind myself to smile sheepishly at him. I’m a good actress now, and I will make sure he believes every second of my performance.
“Unfortunately for the other Queenstrial girls, yes.” The joke is a weak one, but he still chuckles at it. Next to me, I can feel Lucas’s presence still. He’ll usher me along so that we’re not late for Julian. His presence actually eases my tension. I don’t know if I’m ready to be alone with Maven just yet. The temptation to end all my suffering before it can begin might be too great. I need Lucas to get us moving again. I’d rather be early for Julian. The more time I spend with him, the happier I think I’ll be. And I’d rather be as far from Maven as physically possible right now.
“They’re a slippery sort.” He admits, looking me over. I squeeze my hand into a fist, pushing my nail into my thumb to avoid lashing out at him. The silence gets so heavy his skin tinges silver and he looks down to avoid my unwavering glare.
“Where are you off to?” I finally mange to get out, forcing my fingers to unfurl. His eyes snap up and he blushes hard for a heartbeat. I caught him off guard. Good, slip up and give me a reason to hate you more in this moment.
“I was actually on my way to walk in the garden. Cal was—” his lips draw tight for a moment before continuing “—supposed to meet me. He got caught up in a meeting.”
I don’t want you around him either. I want to sneer and dig my nails into his neck when he shrugs in disinterest. I don’t want you hurting him more than you already have.
“How unfortunate,” I admit instead. He actually looks like he feels bad for Cal when he replies, “I don’t envy him his schedule.”
Lucas clears his throat, and my eyes snap to him as he nods in the direction we should be going. “Someone told me she didn’t want to be late to anything today. And we’re going to be late now.”
Maven’s eyes dart to him as if he just realized he was standing there. Tilting his head to the side like a little puppy, he says, “I was actually wondering if you were done for the day and wanted to join me in the garden.”
“I have Lessons.” I want to smirk at the way his smile falls. He recovers marvelously though, and reaches out to take my hand. His skin is warm, the perfect temperature. He’d been icy last night. I wonder if Elara told him to find the perfect temperature, one to match Cal’s.
“I won’t keep you then.” He murmurs before he passes us and continues down the hall. I feel like I’m going to be sick. That was how she did it. That was how she molded him into the perfect little shadow for me to love. She’d picked my brain for everything I liked about his brother from our first meeting and whispered it in his ear. Warm smiles and warm hands, she had probably told him, ooze sympathy and kindness, you’re the sibling that is unloved, the one to match my longing for something greater. Then she had molded his words and his ideals to match mine, the perfect counter to Cal’s abrasive thoughts of wanting to keep the world the way it was. I hadn’t even realized it, but Maven had put his foot in the door with this moment, and I had held it open for him. Sneaky son of a bitch.
“You know, we’d get there much faster if you actually moved.” Lucas teases, making me almost jump. I glare at him before starting down the hallway so fast that he jogs his first few steps to catch up.
“Shut up Lucas.” I growl under my breath.
(////////)
The minute I’m in Julian’s rooms I shrug off every bit of protocol, every nasty thought and let myself sag in relief. It smells just like his Montfort apartment in here. My heart aches even more when I remember the teas Sara used to put in my hands with her gentle smile as she sank down into one of the massive fluffy chairs they kept in their sitting room. It was always warm there too. Sara liked it cozy, and Julian let her have whatever it was she wanted, even if he melted into a puddle of sweat in every sweater he owned.
Married for four years and Sara still acted as chaste as a young girl when he was around. I want them to have that happiness here too. I know I won’t see Julian smile the way he does when she walks behind him and trails her hand along his shoulders for a long time though. Every moment in Montfort was like she feared he’d disappear if she didn’t touch him continuously throughout the day.
I run my fingers along the faded covers of the books he keeps stacked around these rooms like columns holding up the weight of the world. I wish I could grab and carry stacks of them back to my room. I could bury myself in them and pretend I was curled up on my couch with my head in Cal’s lap while he ran his fingers through my hair and tried not to fall asleep. I could pretend I’m hundreds of miles and years away from this horrible place.
I stop before the map I remember so well. I’d seen it so many times in this room that it had become a staple. I tilt my head as I look at the mess of lines and colors. The old world, before people tore it to shreds. We put it back together, or at least we had been trying to. I drag my eyes west from Archeon to find Ascendent buried deep in the mountains. It’s not even marked on this map. It never seemed so far away than in this moment. Even when I had looked at this map for the first time those mountains had only seemed a few hand lengths away.
“It’s strange to look at the world as it once was,” Julian’s quiet voice makes me glance over my shoulder in his direction. In the silence of these rooms, he is a faint ember of life. He appears out of an aisle of his books, the afternoon sun cutting across his face like bars in a prison. His yellow robes whisper along the floor as he approaches me. I’d forgotten how this place had drained him. He looks like old, cracked paper. It’s fitting I suppose, but it’s not right.
I can’t help but grin at him, unable to hide how happy I am to see him. He takes it in stride though, even giving me a little smile as he gestures to the map. “Can you find where we are?”
Don’t go so fast, I want to beg him. Let me stay here as long as physically possible. Let me be here in this sanctuary as long as possible. “I’ll try.” I whisper as I pull my eyes away from him to look at the map. He waits while I pretend to read. I could pick us out as easily as I can call lightning these days, but I go slow on purpose. Reaching up with a finger, I point to the inlet that is the Stilts. “There.”
He nods, pleased. “Do you recognize anything else?”
I bring my eyes back to the map. For a moment, I contemplate pointing out Montfort. Julian would be an impossibly useful ally here. The wisdom he could give us, the advice, it would be priceless. That’s a conversation to have with Cal though. He’ll probably refuse to bring Julian into this mess any earlier than we have to though. He can be so damn protective over the few people he has left. Julian would be able to handle himself though. Better than me and Cal probably.
In the end, I point out Harbor Bay. His smile deeps and I relish in the warmth that floods through me by simply being in his presence. Even if he’s oblivious to our future relationship, I trust him more than anyone else here.
“This is Delphie now,” he points out the city, and I nod as he traces the river to point out Archeon. We’ll be there soon enough, and Julian will not make it further than the gates of this city before Elara catches him and Sara.
When he finishes, he looks at me expectantly and waits to hear anything else. Instead I turn to him and say, “The cameras are off in here.”
His brows shoot up toward his hairline comically, and I have to stifle a laugh. I haven’t seen that look in a long time. There wasn’t much I could do to surprise him after our years together. The news I was planning on sharing might have been the last time I saw that look.
“So there is a difference,” he mutters.
“How did you get them to turn them off?” I want to know so that I can turn them off in my own room without people noticing. Cal and I could meet then, discuss our next moves without people noticing. We could meet to determine if things were proceeding correctly too. It would make all of this so much easier.
“Mare, I’m here to teach you your histories, to teach you how to be Silver and how to be, ah, useful.”
His lips pull into a disgusted expression, and I raise a brow as he changes the subject quickly. The way he looks at me though, makes me swallow the next words I am about to tell him. Instead, I tilt my head to the side and ask the same question I had asked before.
“How do you plan to do that Lord Jacos?”
His eyes narrow for a moment, and I tense as I realize he never did tell me who he was. It’s not on my schedule, and there is no way Elara would tell me his name. She can barely spit out the name Jacos anyway. I have a feeling she thought Coriane’s spirit would be able to haunt her if she did utter it.
“Your colors, yellow, house Jacos. Lady Blonos taught me the colors this morning. Your sister was Queen wasn’t she? Cal’s mother. You two even look a little similar.” I stumble over the words, trying to cover my tracks. It’s a pathetic attempt, one I know he can see right through.
He at least has the grace and mercy to laugh outright at my last comment. The light returns to his eyes as he says, “your flattery will get you nowhere with me, Mare Barrow. But yes, I am the late Queen’s brother and Tiberias the Seventh, otherwise known as Cal, is my nephew.” He drops into a comically low bow. I chuckle at it. Even though I feel like I’m playing a game with him, it still feels like we are sharing a secret truth with each other. Forgotten gods, I just want to tell him the truth so that he can know and help me. I wonder if he would actually believe me if I did. Julian had seen plenty of crazy things in his life. What was one more?
“So you and I are supposed to stop a rebellion?” I ask as he rises. He tilts his head to the side, considering my words before saying, “yes, I suppose. My dear brother-in-law and his queen believe you can do so, if we use you properly.”
“It’s idiotic,” I admit before turning back to look at the map. He watches my side profile carefully while I look over the map, and try to keep my eyes from snagging on Montfort. “They’re wrong if they think the riots will stop, and the people will stand down. The Scarlet Guard is marching, and they are not afraid. Change will come someday, whether that’s tomorrow or in a year, it will come. The world won’t stay the same, I won’t let it.”
For a moment, the ragged inhale he takes makes me think I’ve said too much. But when he steps up next to me to look at the map he says, “I have waited a long time to hear someone say that. What my people are doing to you and yours is wrong to the deepest levels of humanity. You are right, change is coming, because the continuous cycle we put you through will end poorly.”
I look at him, seeing a different type of warrior. Julian had never been one for violence and destruction like me and Cal. He was built for manipulation and careful chess games. But he had spent just as much time if not more shaping the world alongside us. He would do it all over again too. I know he would. If he were in my shoes right now, he would suffer the hell, the torture, and any agony just to get us all to that shining future. “So what do we do?”
He grins at me, a tiny hopeful smile that makes me square my shoulders proudly.
“We start by figuring out exactly what you are.”
#The Chain#red queen#glass sword#kings cage#war storm#broken throne#post broken throne#my writing#my fanfics#marecal#sorry this took so long#I'm having a hard time maintaining this project and song of the phoenix#on top of all my actually life shit i have to do#anyway#cal calore#mare barrow#marecal not so much in this chapter#not to worry though#they'll be teaming up again soon#maven calore#GOD HE"S SO HARD TO WRITE?!#god I just want to do him justice but I'm scared that I'm not#any feed back on him would be very helpful#I know he's got a small part in this#but he's got a bigger on coming next chapter#I love writing him and cal interacting more than him and mare
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The Secret Correspondence of the Dancing War - Part 2
A/N: The second part of the accurate epilogue of Broken Throne (because Victoria did not give us the closure we deserved and wtf did the walking fortune cookie get the write it? (Rude)), decoded by @elane-in-the-shadows and myself. (((: Fine part 1 here
ii. Mare
August 17th 330
Farley,
I think that Clara might like my room on the base more than yours. She says she likes the view of the pond. Which is good, because she’s been asking Kilorn to take her out to swim almost every day. He says she caught a fish the other day. I don’t really believe him, but he insists. She’ll probably write to you about it. She’ll probably also mention our… failed attempt at cooking chicken. No one was harmed in the process. She might exaggerate what happened. Your daughter is more dramatic than Evangeline. She misses you though, more than anything. She says my hugs aren’t the same, but they’re “okay enough”. I know Ada is supposed to have her right now, because I was supposed to leave for the front a week ago, but… something came up, so I’ll be watching Clara until you get back from your location.
On one hand, I feel bad using the same envelope as your daughter to send you my letter, but I really don’t want to walk all the way across the base and get a second envelope just to send this. Besides, I know Clara’s letter will be secure, so mine will also. And security and discretion is sort of important right now.
Clara has no idea what’s happening with me, although I think she’s starting to figure it out. She unfortunately inherited Shade’s observations skills which means I have no secrets anymore. At least, no secrets between the two of us. I don’t think that’s bad though. I was tired of secrets a long time ago. I guess that is also why I feel such a desperate need to tell someone this. I should probably write to Cal, but his location is NOT secure right now, which is probably why he hasn’t written to me. I’m going to have to wait until he gets back from the front to tell him. I don’t know how long that will be either, which means I have to tell you. I guess I thought you would understand. Please just… I need advice. I know you’d probably tell me to figure it out on my own, but you’ve always had a knack for thinking your way out of tough situations.
I wish I’d figured it out sooner. I think I knew for a while, I just didn’t want to think about it. If I was right, it would make life stupidly complicated. Being around Clara these past few weeks has sort of changed everything though. And while a part of me is (this sounds so stupid) happy… I’m scared too. The minute I saw the results, I had half a mind to find a healer and get a procedure, to just get rid of it. How can I justify bringing something so fragile into the world? But then it moved, I thought I imagined it, but then it did it again… and Farley I couldn’t. If that’s selfish of me, I don’t know.
Of all the times for this, now is really not the best. But for you, it wasn’t the best time either and you got through it. You stayed with the war effort, but the more I think about it, the more I think I need to leave the front completely. While I have nothing against how you raise your daughter, the way Clara looks whenever someone knocks on the door makes my stomach clench and my throat burn. I know she’s just waiting for news that you’re never coming back. Especially after the whole Tiraxes deal fell through last year and we didn’t hear from you until you returned a week later. I don’t want… I don’t want my child to have that fear. I don’t want them to be looking out the window wondering when I’ll be home or if Cal is ever going to come back. I dont need want that for her them it her. I can’t believe that I wrote that. But some part of me fluttered when I did. Forgotten gods I hope I haven’t messed her up. I was just at the front a month ago. She was there, she was there with me and I was running directly into the line of fire. I’m glad I didn’t know then though. I would have made a mistake. I know I would have.
My heart tells me to leave. That I need to go back to Montfort. That if I truly want this, then I have to be there for her. But my mind tells me it’s selfish. That I’m not thinking about the future and about the people like us who have suffered for years. But then I think about what she’ll be like, who she’ll be, and I suddenly have this desperate need to run under a rock and hide. I know the Session will hunt her down, and after all the attempts on Clara, I feel sick just thinking what they will do to get their hands on mine.
I just don’t know what to do. I’d ask Cal but I know what his response will be. He’d tell me to go, and he’d come with me. But I can’t pull him away from the front either. We both make such a difference there at times. Is it selfish to do that? To take my family and run? I need your help. Please write as soon as you can.
Mare
PS: if the healer’s wrong and it’s a boy... I want to name him Shade. I hope you understand that… and are willing to give your blessing. If not, I understand.
@elliemarchetti @farleydiana @scxrletguardsdawn @petergrantkavinsky @freaky-freiday @inopinion @mareshmallow @evangelineartemiasamos @evangeline-of-montfort @delilahlbard @king-maven-calore @whatsup-gorls @redqueenetwork
#red queen#the secret correspondence of the dancing war#glass sword#kings cage#war storm#broken throne#post broken throne#regina and I rewrite the epilogue#cause why the fuck did Jon get to do it?#red queen fan fiction#red queen fanfiction#mare barrow#cal calore#diana farley#clara farley-barrow#guess which barrow calore baby is born first#lol you'll find out in the next letters XD#marecal#kilorn warren
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The Chain (Part 6)
Main Concept: Two love struck idiots get sent back to a pretty UGH time period in their lives (that required me to reread all the books again) and have to hide the fact that they know everything.
Find Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5
tag list: @delilahlbard @king-maven-calore @thatoddgirl777 @elliekratzzz @evangelineartemiasamos @evangeline-of-montfort @scxrletguardsdawn @freaky-freiday @redqueenetwork @petergrantkavinsky @kuwei @whatsup-gorls (let me know if you want a tag (((((: )
(<Cal>)
Waiting is the hard part. I’ve always considered myself patient, even if I’m not at times. But this, this is a new level. It takes everything just to keep from pacing the room.
I thought I was going to throw up when Elara’s dress had disappeared down the stairs after the Sentinels carrying Mare. She was so certain that she could handle this, but what if Elara found something? I couldn’t care less if it was about me or what I will do in the futuer. I could take Elara his time. But if she hurts Mare, or forces her to regress to a state where I can’t pull her back from the brink like I did before, I don’t know if I would be able to live with letting Elara take her willingly.
It feels like it’s been hours. Did it take this long the first time? I don’t remember. I should though. Even the first time I have been sweating and panicking, albeit for a much different reason. Elara had figured the truth about out meeting out anyway.
The door opens with whisper, and I freeze near the window of my father’s study. My pulse pounds in my ears, and I force even inhales and exhales as Elara stalks into the room, her heels clicking against the wood until she steps on the carpet.
“She’s Red through and through.” She simply states. I almost can’t hear it over the roar of blood in my ears.
“And the terrorists?”
“She isn’t associated with them.” Elara murmurs and the whispers of silk brushing on wood announces her moving again. I let out the breath I’d been holding, trying to be discrete. When I glance over my shoulder though, it’s to see them so engrossed in dealing with the problem that I am only a decoration at this point. Good, so far everything was progressing the way I remembered.
Elara could be keeping things to herself though. She’d kept plenty to herself in the months leading up to what happened in Archeon. If she had seen something about Montfort or the Guard in Mare’s memories she would keep it to herself, and start putting plans together behind the curtains. I had half a mind to warn Dane, not that he would need help scheming against Elara.
I need a test, something to see if she does know more than she is letting on. Stepping away from the window I ask, “How did she get here?” I never asked that question. I know that. I had sat quietly by the window while Elara told my father everything she had discovered. This would throw her. If she did see everything, then she would search my mind for the truth, and possibly reveal that it was my fault Mare was here. If she did either, I would know.
Elara’s icy gaze snaps to me, but I square my shoulders. I imagine my head as a hall of mirrors, reflecting my thoughts back at her. Behind those mirrors is everything I know, and my true thoughts. If she looks into my mind, she’ll only see what I want her to see, and I can lead her down any path I want because of that. She’ll think she’s the one doing the searching the entire time though, and I’ll feel her there. It’s an old trick that Carmadon did his best to teach. Mare wanted to learn it first. I could understand why too. After Samson and Elara both ripped her mind to pieces, it only made sense that she would never want it to happen again. I learned too, more for curiosity’s sake. I couldn’t be more grateful for that decision now.
There isn’t even a shadow of her in my head when she says, “One of the servants retrieved her, but it’s unclear who ordered her here.”
It’s the best answer I can get. I release the tension in my shoulders as she turns back to father at his desk, her face a mask of stone. “She is the last thing we need.”
He’s quiet for a long time, simply watching Elara’s face. I’d been so oblivious to the battle of wills between them my entire life. Knowing what hides behind Elara’s mask though lets me see the battle lines clearly. Elara has pushed a lot the past few years, and she’s winning. He must know that too. He’d be blind and stupid if he didn’t know that.
“She’s one girl, we could just remove her.” He eventually says, before leaning back and lacing his fingers together. Elara huffs at that, only to growl, “and the High Houses? What of them? Will we tell them she mysteriously vanished?”
“Perhaps we should.”
“They’ll smell blood.” Elara sneers. For all her malicious plans, she does know the court. The Houses will need something to chew on to keep them quiet. The Mareena story works, it has just enough holes that they’ll be so busy poking they won’t look in the right places. The perfect ruse.
“Then what will you have me do Elara? Parade her in front of the kingdom?” He grunts out a laugh, but Elara’s lips curl up in the tinniest of smiles. She was already putting her plan into motion in this office. I wonder if she’s whispering it to Maven who is sitting just a few feet away, his eyes on the light stretching across the carpet from the open window. I glance at him hesitantly, looking for any sort of reaction. He looks bored though, his chin resting on his fist. That doesn’t mean anything though. He could be listening to every word she says.
“We will hide her in plain sight.” Elara instructs quickly. Her eyes darting to me only momentarily. I drop my eyes to the carpet, trying to count the different colors there as she continues to speak in a hushed whisper to my father. His face hardens with each passing second until he looks to me and says, “Out, take Maven with you.”
I remember this part well. They debate the intricacies without Maven and I present. Intricacies that will put Elara plan into motion permanently.
Pacing across the room, I set my hand on Maven’s shoulder. He tenses under my grip momentarily before rising from the chair and following me out of the double doors. They close with a click behind us.
We wait in the hallway, shoulder to shoulder. I need to speak with Mare, make sure she’s okay and that nothing slipped by. We also need to set up the next stage of our plan. We need to cover what happened after this, and I need her to tell me when exactly she met Farley so I can be on the lookout for Maven and Elara knowing more than they should. Or for anything suspicious. That is the only real test for them getting knowledge about the past from Mare.
Next to me, Maven adjusts the cuff of his suit and says, “Well, she certainly made today entertaining.”
I can’t smile or laugh, even though I should. I always laughed at his little asides. I’m so wrapped up in trying to out think Elara, that I can barely register his presence.
He steps in front of me at my prolonged silence, his eyes searching my face. I used to think it was because he was patiently waiting for me to speak, now I know he was a hunter, analyzing his prey. I crack a smile to hide my discomfort, watching his eyes as I say, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Evangeline come so close to crying.”
He laughs, and the sound makes my chest ache. It sounds so real. Is it? How much was really him? I wish I knew for sure.
The door behind us opens before I can get in a deeper hole and Elara steps out followed by father who carries Mare’s folder in his hand. While I know the truth of their relationship, they are still a striking couple. Her every feature is the opposite of his. I wonder if Maven always wished he looked more like his mother and less like our father.
“Send Lucas Samos for the girl. Bring her to the throne room.” My father orders the Sentinel waiting by the doors with a wave of his hand. Without waiting to see if the order is being followed, he starts down the hallway to the throne room. We must be there early enough to ensure proper placement. Our placement before Mare will be important. She’ll need to see the strength and power of the royal family, and my father will place us so that she sees exactly that.
We don’t wait for an order either, and follow him. The silence is so heavy I can hear Elara’s skirts hissing as she walks. There is not backing out of this now. I wish I had just grabbed Mare and run with her last night. I would have found us an airship, or anything to get us to Montfort. We would have been there by now and all of this might have been dealt with. I should have told her to hell with Jon’s advice. I know better. I’ve known better for years than to believe anything that man says.
The throne room is empty, and the throne has been moved back a few feet by some telkies and probably a magnetron. They want Mare to make the long walk down the hall and see all of it. My father wants her to be afraid. He won’t get that effect this time around though. Mare hates this place, and she’ll let that show on every inch of her face.
Maven takes his place first, giving me enough space on his right side for me to slide between him and our father’s throne. I step up on the dais and into my place. He glances at me for a moment and then asks, “If they order her to be executed, do you think Evangeline will demand the honor?”
My throat closes up at the memory of Evangeline and Ptolemus stalking us in the Bowl of Bones. I throw a glare at Maven that could melt steel, even though panic laces through my bones. Does he know that because Elara told him it will come to pass?
His face pales with blush though, and I immediately regret my reaction. I clasp my hands together behind my back and look toward the doors that Mare will be brought through. “She doesn’t deserve to die. She’s just a girl.” I hope he thinks my fury is there because I’m too soft.
Mare’s much more than just a girl. She’ll become more than that to him quickly too. I close my hands into fists at the thought. I promised Mare that I would never let him hurt her again. I swore that at the Notch and last night. Mare is more than capable of handling herself, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to protect her. Especially from him and the memories he will bring back.
The doors into the room open and Lucas brings her in with guards surrounding her. Behind me, the warmth of the sun slides away as a Haven darkness the room. It’s dramatic and entirely unnecessary. No one can see into this room. But appearances are everything, and I’m slowly being reminded of that. I’d give anything for my slacks and shirts that I kept in my Montfort apartment. I can’t believe that years ago I missed these uniforms. They’re miserable.
“You will kneel,” Elara orders, her voice soft as velvet.
Mare stands silently, staring her down before turning her eyes to my father. They flash with remorse for only a moment. “I will not.” She straightens her shoulders, every inch the warrior I remember her being with a different edge. This is Mare Barrow, not Mareena, not the Little Lightning Girl. This is the girl who came to exist between the peaks of Montfort, the one that threw a splatter of dough at me because I said something about her legs in a pair of pants, but turned around the next morning and beat me to a tie in a training ring. The girl whose brothers would wrestle me to the ground and threaten to dump me in the lake on a daily basis. My heart aches for that. As much as a part of me rejoices in seeing my father and brother again, I miss the Barrows.
“Do you enjoy your cell, girl?” My father asks his voice louder than it needs to be. Mare may be hard headed but she’s not deaf. I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
Still Mare purses her lips, refusing to bow. “It’s a little small.” She says as her eyes dance around the room taking everything in. In a few months we’ll be in a room very similar but she and Maven will be on their knees. Her eyes hold on Elara before she raises her chin and asks, “What do you want with me?” She’s surprisingly calm and the question is brutal in its bluntness. I wish I was a whisper so that I can tell her to at least pretend to be afraid.
Elara leans down, her hand closing around my father’s shoulder as she whispers in his ear, “I told you, she’s Red through and through—”
He waves her off with disinterest. Her hand grips his arm for another moment before she released it and draws back. It’s like watching a bird of prey release its catch to give it a bit of hope before it swoops in again. My stomach curls at the image.
“What I want concerning you is impossible.” My father snaps, and he might as well set Mare on fire with those words.
Mare huffs and twitches her head to the side to move her hair off her shoulder. She hasn’t looked this way once. She won’t either. Not as long as Maven stands next to me.
“Well, I’m not sorry you can’t kill me.” She grumbles as she looks to the side, picking a stop on the wall to glare at. She’ll have to look at him eventually. I wish I could be there to support her when she does. Instead I’m standing up here, being about as useful as a rock in a sinking ship.
My father tosses her file onto the floor. Her papers spill out, and Mare’s identification photo stares back at me. The fire I love sparks in her eyes as she looks at that photo. Her lips twist at the sight of the little smear of her blood there. I know what she’s thinking about. She’s thinking about a book of names. I’ve already started the hunt though, cataloguing Ada’s exact location, along with Nix, and Luther. Anyone else I could remember from the Notch I tried to find. I’d been mostly successful. I’d even found Dane’s name buried in the system. Of course, he’d been reported dead years ago.
“Mare Molly Barrow, born November seventeenth, 302 of the New Era, to Daniel and Ruth Barrow,” my father drawls as if he’s reading the paper and not the life story of a woman who will one day bring an end to our family dynasty. “You have no occupation and are scheduled for conscription on your next birthday. You attend school sparingly, your academic test scores are low, and you have a list of offenses that would land you in prison in most cities. Thievery, smuggling, resisting arrest, to name but a few. All together you are poor, rude, immoral, unintelligent, impoverished, bitter, stubborn, and a blight upon your village and my kingdom.”
I could laugh. If only my father knew what she would become. He would have to swallow his tongue. He might even respect her.
“And yet,” he continues as if what he’s said wasn’t enough, “You are also something else. Something I cannot fathom. You are Red and Silver both, a peculiarity with deadly consequences you cannot understand. So what am I do to with you?”
Mare only shrugs, as she looks down at her boots. “I suppose you could let me go?”
Elara’s laugh sends a shiver down my spine again. She steps forward just slightly and spits, “And what about the High Houses? Will they keep silent as well? Will they forget the little lightning girl in a red uniform?”
They never will.
“You know my advice Tiberias,” Elara adds, her eyes holding on my father. I wonder if she is whispering into his mind right now, twisting his mind to do her bidding. “And it will solve both our problems.”
I clench my fist, knowing what’s coming next. Mare seems to know too, because her jaw tightens. I wish I could stand beside her for this part. As if something as stupid as that could make a difference in this moment.
“We are going to hide you in plain sight where we can watch you, protect you, and attempt to understand you.” With a bored shrug, father turns his eyes to Elara, who nods. Swallowing tightly, I step forward and urge, “Father—“
Maven’s hand closes around my elbow, making sure I can’t move. Elara’s eyes dance to me for a moment, until Maven pulls me back into line. Father turns away though, already busy telling Mare the story she will play by.
Mare’s eyes finally glance my way as she says, “I don’t want to be a princess.”
“It doesn’t matter what you want. You will marry my son Maven, and you’ll do it without putting a toe out of line.” He dismisses her abysmal refute with strong words. Mare’s jaw tightens, and she finally brings her eyes to Maven. I can hear her inhale, sharp as a knife. Next to me, Maven sputters and steps forward. “I don’t understand,” he blurts.
I grab his arm, holding him back as he tries to take quick steps forward. “She’s—why?”
“Quiet,” Elara snaps, making even me tense. “You will obey.”
Maven turns burning eyes on her, reminding me so much of the boy he is to become. Elara hardens though, refusing to back down until Maven slowly bows back. A battle of wills I’d missed before. No doubt she’s whispering her plan into his mind, curling her fist around his intentions.
Below us, Mare watches the entire thing, analyzing just as much as I am. She squeezes her hand into a fist and says, “This won’t help anyone.”
“Oh, but it will. For the first time in your rudimentary little life, you have a purpose.” The jab stings even me, and Mare flinches at it. “Here we are, in the early stages of a badly timed rebellion, with terrorist groups or freedom fighters, or whatever the hell these idiotic Red fools call themselves, blowing things up in the name of equality.”
Mare raises a brow, feigning interest. “The Scarlet Guard.” She corrects, her voice hard.
“You might be able to help us stop there from being any more.” Father completely ignores her, steamrolling over Mare’s words like they are nothing. I wish he’d listen though. If he did, he would have been surprised that Mare even knew the name of the Scarlet Guard. No one really did, and if they did, they were the people we had been looking for.
“And you think me marrying him will fix that?” She asks, her eyes darting to Maven and then away really quickly. She can barely hold his eye. This may have been bigger mistake than we originally thought. If Mare can’t even look at Maven, how is she supposed to pretend to trust him? Keep it together, I want to tell her, you’re almost there.
“My name is Maven,” he says, quietly. “And I still don’t understand.” His cheeks are flushed with what I know is fury. Before, I would have mistaken it for embarrassment at Mare’s lack of decorum, now I know better.
“If the Reds see her, a Silver by blood but Red by nature, raised up with us, they can be placated. It’s like a fairytale.” Mare’s eyes burn and I raise my chin to finish. “She’ll be their champion. And a distraction.” I add the last part hesitantly; the words sour in my mouth.
When I don’t say anything else, Mare’s eyes drop. Father straightens up in his throne filling the silence immediately. “This isn’t a request, Lady Titanos.”
Mare’s eyes snap up to him, her expression pulling tight.
“You will go through with this, and you will do it properly.”
Elara launches into her part, almost eagerly. As soon as she finishes Mare whispers, “My family—“
“What about them? Girl, you have fallen head over heels into a miracle.” Elara crows, furious that Mare would question any of this.
“Mare has a family, and she has a right to be worried about them.” I snap, drawing both Elara and Maven’s eyes. I tense at the slip, and Mare’s eyes widen a fraction of an inch. Swallowing, I bring my chin up and direct my next words to my father, “You would want the same for me or Maven if that were the case.”
He huffs, and with shrug says, “Of course.” Drumming his fingers on the arm of the throne, he tilts his head to the side and says, “I suppose we’ll give them an allowance, keep them quiet.”
“I want my brothers brought back from the front.” Mare begins, pouncing on my father’s words, and stepping forward as she says them. Elara tenses but Mare only has eyes for my father as she continues with her demands. “And my friend, Kilorn Warren. Don’t let the legions take him.”
With a wave of his hand, Father agrees. “Done.”
Mare sags in relief, and it’s the first time I’ve seen her relaxed since we got into this mess. The doors open again, and Lucas returns with the guards. They grab Mare’s arms before turning her around and taking her from the room. I know exactly where they are going, but I wait until Father has risen from the throne, chuckling to himself. I watch him until he recognizes my stare. He gives me a smile, pleased that things are at least somewhat going his way. “Write those letters will you?”
“As long as they are sent out tonight before the feast.” I say, even though I know Shade is already gone. It was one of the first things I looked up when I woke up days ago. He’d already been accused of desertion. He was with the Guard and Farley long before I even guessed.
I step off the back of the dais with those words and head straight for the door that will take me to the back hallways that lead to the royal apartments. I try not to run, but i’m terrified that if I don’t pull Bree and Tramy off the lines soon enough that they won’t make it off. I won’t let them die so that I have to tell Mare that I lost two more of her brothers.
I know Maven’s following me long before I get to my rooms. I leave the door open for him to follow me in. He closes it behind him as I rush to my desk, pushing books aside while I search for official paper and a pen. Normally letters like that will be typed, but the faster it goes out, the better. I fly through Kilorn’s letter, barely registering what I’m writing.
Maven watches me in silence as I hunch over the desk. He waits for a second more before saying, “You know her.”
I don’t look up as I sign Kilorn’s letter. His needs to go to the recruitment office immediately. He should have already been drafted. The legionaries in the Stilts had always been slow though. Maven’s shoes click on the wood floor as he approaches my desk. He stops near my elbow and says, “You know her, Cal. How?”
“I met her outside a tavern.” I keep my reply short as I fold the letter and start on Bree’s. He watches my pen move, probably reading the words as I go. He leans his hip against the edge of the desk, and crosses his arms while I write in silence. He wants more. He won’t get any from me though.
I fold Bree’s and start Tramy’s in the silence. He shifts to get my attention but when I don’t reply, he says, “You got her this job.”
I nod, and then read over Tramy’s letter before folding it and searching for another piece of paper for Shade’s. “She was desperate. She needed it.”
“I didn’t realize you ran a charity case.” He mumbles before leaving me at my desk to throw himself on to my bed. I glance at him over my shoulder as he does that. He sinks into the blankets before looking around my room asking, “Are you ready for tonight?”
Shaking my head, I pull a piece of paper from the desk and hastily start Shade’s letter. The bedding shifts as Maven does. He’s purposefully trying to get my attention now. A few years ago, before I knew what was in his head, I would have laughed at his attempts. Now though, I’m on guard, watching every move.
I pause from writing Shade’s letter to glance at Maven. He props himself up on his elbows and smiles at me. It’s so disarming, I can’t help but give him a little smile back. “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready.”
He nods in understanding before shifting and saying, “I’m not going to lie. I thought… that I would at least get a choice.”
I glance back at Shade’s letter to finish it. Was that a true statement? Probably. Elara forced him into this. Maybe it was his way of letting some of his true self slip out. My hand shakes as I sign the letter though. I tell myself it’s because I’m thinking about how it will do nothing, but I know that a part of me is thinking about Maven’s words and their implication. Had that been a cry for help that I missed? It certainly sounded like one.
“I’m sorry.” I say to Maven, and those two words mean so much more than what I intend. He raises a brow, as if sensing the depth of my words. With a tilt of his head, he says, “You don’t have to be. It’s my duty to do as I’m told.”
I fold Shade’s letter slowly and gather the other three. Turning to him, I approach the bed slowly. His eyes track my movement until I’m standing over him, and I don’t miss his cheek twitch as I set my hand on his leg. I swallow once more and whisper, “I’m truly sorry, Maven.”
The heat underneath my hand rises with the swell of emotions he tries to keep under the surface. Drawing my hand back I look away. “I’m going to turn these in, I’ll see you at the feast.”
I can feel his eyes on my back as I approach the door. Just as I’m turning the knob to leave, he speaks again, making me freeze.
“I know, Cal.” His voice is soft, and for a moment, I get a flash of a simple stone on a sandy bluff overlooking the ocean. He would have loved that. I had been right to bury him someplace quiet. I squeeze my hand into a fist, remembering how that shovel felt in my hands, and how the blisters had burned, torn, and bled while I dug six feet into the ground. Nanabel had been horrified when I’d gotten back with blood all over my pants from wiping my hands on them. She thought I had at least taken someone with me to do the digging. I had refused anyone’s help though. I’d been a coward to let Mare do what I should have done. I wouldn’t be that coward again. And he was my brother. I was going to bury him myself, whether or not anyone thought that was right.
Still, I give him a nod, showing him that I heard. He’s already on his path, and there is little that I think I can do for him. I can just be there for him, get him through this, and then bury him again. I don’t know if I’ll have the strength to do that again though.
(/////)
Mare’s rooms are at least on the way back from the offices of reports. It makes my trip back easier. I arrive just as they are putting the final touches on her. She pulls away when they reach for the earrings, and she almost grabs the girl’s wrist as she does so. “Leave those, please.”
I can’t help but smile as I clear my throat. The maids all look my way and drop into quick, identical curtsies. I bob my head to them and whisper, “Excuse us.”
They hurry out, and Mare slowly turns in the dress watching them leave. I approach slowly when the door closes, asking, “Cameras?”
“Off.” She says quickly. I tilt my head before reaching out to run my thumb along her cheek. The paint smears slightly and I whisper, “I forgot how odd you looked with this stuff.”
“How kind,” she teases me with a smile as she pushes my hand away and descends from the little platform she had been standing on. She doesn’t wobble in the shoes like I remember. Continuing to ignoring me, she sinks into the chair in front of the vanity, and picks up the brush to adjust the smudge I made in her makeup. I watch her back, and for a moment, it’s like we never left Montfort. I could picture her sitting at her vanity in our apartment fixing her hair before we go to a state dinner, or before she goes to work.
“You still look beautiful.” I whisper to her. She glances up at me in the mirror, and her lips quirk up just slightly.
“You always say that.”
“Because it’s true.” I say as I approach her. I reach out to pick up a piece of hair that fell out near the back of her neck. I tuck it in, before holding my hand out for a pin. She gives it to me willingly before saying, “Anything suspicious?”
“Nothing.” I say as I slide the pin in place. I don’t mention Maven’s little comment. It didn’t hurt anything. Those words had been meant for me.
She nods to me in the mirror, before rising and brushing out the wrinkles in her dress. Facing me, she makes a face at my uniform and reaches up to adjust my collar. Smoothing out the shoulders of my suit jacket she says softly, “She didn’t get anything I didn’t want her to get.”
“The letters went out.” I change the subject quickly. Still, I watch her hands as she brushes something off the jacket of my suit. This feels like the beginning again. All the sneaking around that came with our dance lessons. I feel like I’m trading code with her, and we’re dancing perfectly around the truth.
Nodding softly at my words, she releases a long exhale before dropping her hands. Her brows knit together before she sinks back onto the vanity school. Reaching up to massage her temple she whispers, “I don’t know if I can—I have to sit next to him tonight.”
Reaching out, I let my fingertips brush her exposed collarbone. She feels warm, and real, even if she’s painted to look like a lie. The tension rolls out of her shoulder as I squeeze it. I wish I could just take the pain away from her, and leave her numb for the hours that are to come. “You know what he is,” I whisper to her. My words draw her eyes which are darker than I ever remember them being. Even after Corros.
“I’ll only be a few seats away.” I brush a stubborn, loose curl away from her face. The imperfection reminds me that I used to push her mangled hair out of her face when she woke up in the morning. Trying to ignore the unease turning my stomach to a rolling mess, I take her hands and pull her to her feet. Even though I say those words with every intention of following through on their implication, when it comes down to it, I know I won’t be able to do anything. If she does need me, what can I do, squeeze her hand and smile? I’d done that the first time we went through this and it did shit all.
Shaking her head at my words, she squeezes my fingers in reply until I squeeze back. Leaning down, I rest my forehead against hers and close my eyes. She smells like jasmine, and cherry. Even here, in this nest of snakes, she still manages to strike me.
“We could still try to run to Montfort. There’s time.”
She chuckles at my idea, but it lacks the usual bright undertone I know. When I open my eyes, she’s watching me intently, a soldier now, more than ever. “We can’t leave everyone. They may not know it, but they’re counting on us not messing up like you did this afternoon.”
I grimace and my ears burn immediately at the chastising comment. Calling her Mare might have alerted Elara to something. It certainly alerted Maven. “Like I said before, it’s a good thing it’s a suitable nickname for Mareena.”
She smacks my cheek playfully, and pulling out of my grip she gives me a smirk before passing me. Looking over her shoulder, her smirk falls as she asks, “Has it been hard… seeing your father?”
To be honest, I hadn’t thought about it until she asked. The ache I’d felt in my chest, I’d just assumed came from my thoughts constantly being occupied by my brother. From the moment I’d seen him for the first time, I’d felt like my lungs were going to collapse and my chest was going to cave in. Being around him was like drowning. I couldn’t breathe, could barely think clearly. Throughout the war against him, all I could think about was what I would give to have these moments back. I’d realized last night that I didn’t want the moments themselves though, I wanted the ignorance that came with them. I wanted to see my brother again, the happy, laughing boy I thought I remembered. Whenever I look at him though, I only see the shell he is to become. I couldn’t save him before, and now, that knowledge only hurts more.
“I haven’t really seen him.” I rub at the back of my neck, uncomfortable with that knowledge. Her face falls even further. There is nothing she can say though. Reaching out, she brushes her fingertips along the back of my hand. “Cameras are back on.”
I let my pinkie brush hers, and listen to her footsteps as she leaves the room.
#The Chain#red queen#glass sword#kings cage#war storm#broken throne#post broken throne#my writing#my fanfics#marecal#why is writing Cal so hard in this?#but also#him and maven will be fun#him and mare....#not so much#but it ez what it ez#ENJOY#might post the next part as an apology for how long this took#cal calore#maven calore#mare barrow
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The Chain (Part 5)
Main Concept: Two love struck idiots get sent back to a pretty UGH time period in their lives (that required me to reread all the books again) and have to hide the fact that they know everything.
Find Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4
Tag list: @delilahlbard @king-maven-calore @scxrletguardsdawn @freaky-freiday @whatsup-gorls @kuwei @redqueenetwork @elane-in-the-shadows @evangeline-of-montfort @evangelineartemiasamos @petergrantkavinsky (girl I’m so sorry that I haven’t tagged you yet!) @thatoddgirl777 @elliekratzzz. If you want a tag please ask ((:
Chapter 5
Cal leaves me a few houses away from my own, and stays in the shadows of another home’s stilts while I walk the last hundred meters to my porch. I can spot the outline of my father’s shadow in the dark as I approach and I glance over my shoulder once to make sure Cal is concealed. Even to my now trained eye, I can’t spot him. He’s much better at hiding now.
“You shouldn’t worry your mother like that,” my father’s voice rumbles from the shadows, his eyes narrowed. They dance over my shoulder, probably trying to spot what I am looking for. He won’t spot Cal though. At least, he won’t spot him if Cal stays put until we get onto the porch. While I love him, sometimes he’s not the brightest bulb in the country.
“I’m sorry.” I whisper to my father as he squints at the shadows down the street. If Cal didn’t stay put I think I might have to kill him.
Slowly turning his eyes back to me, my father shifts in his chair before jabbing a thumb at the utility box. He lets out a huff. “Power went out. Thought I’d give it a look.” He wheels over to the source of his musings wheezing the whole way. I follow dutifully, already sensing the electric current humming from the ground. I can tell which wire is faulty too. Like a small spot of darkness in otherwise pure light, it sticks out like a sore thumb. “’Lec papers didn’t work?” I ask as I watch him try to tinker with the box.
He pulls one of them from his shirts and feeds it into the box. Nothing happens though. Twisting my lips to the side, I step in front of him and hear his wheel’s squeak as he rolls out of my way.
“What are you going to do? You can’t fix the damn busted thing.” He grumbles, and that clicking in his chest gets louder as he coughs.
Prying the thing open with my fingers, I glance at the mess of wires. I need him to look away while I do this. I can’t have him seeing what I can do, especially if all I do is grab a wire and all the lights turn on. I step back from it then, knowing that I’ll have to do it the old fashioned way.
He rolls forward and smacks the box before I can even try to do anything. His hand hits the metal with a deadening thump that I can feel through my own resting on top. I watch as he continues to hit it, hoping to bring something to life with each swing. I let him throw one good hit before thrusting life back into the box. Sparks dance on the wires, and above us, the porch light hums to life.
“Well, fancy that,” Dad mutters before spinning in the mud and wheeling himself back to his pulley. Closing the box with one hand, I clench my other hand into a fist to quench the sparks that want to explode to life.
He waits for me to approach before buckling in and saying, “No more running.”
I nod and try to smile. I don’t have the heart to tell him what he needs to hear. I’ll be gone by tomorrow and I won’t be back for days. They’ll think I’m dead, and that’s fine. We’re alright someday, I promise myself as I watch the rig rise to the porch with a whine. When he gets there, I climb the ladder, using the time to glance in the shadows for Cal. One detaches and starts walking. He stayed the whole time, I think with a stupid smile. Maybe he had gotten a little smarter.
At the top, Dad struggles with the rig and I scramble up the ladder before helping him with the belts. When he’s finally free, he mutters, “Bugger of a thing.”
I can’t help but smile. For all his rough edges, I know what is beneath. “Mom will be happy you’re getting out of the house.”
He grabs my hand tightly, and the callouses there rub at my skin, reminding me that we’re not out of this hell hole yet. His hands never do soften, no matter how long he lives in Montfort.
“Don’t tell your mother,” he whispers to me. I purse my lips in response, knowing that given today, she could use even the resemblance of hope. “But—“
“I know it seems like nothing, but it’s enough of something. She’ll think it’s a step on a big journey, you see? First I leave the house at night, then during the day, then I’m rolling around the market with her like it’s twenty years ago. Then things go back to the way they were.” His eyes darken as he recounts what I know will come to pass. He fights to keep his emotions at bay, his voice only wavering slight at the end. “I’m not getting better, Mare. I’m never going to feel better. I can’t let her hope for that, not when I know it’ll never happen. Do you understand?”
I nod, understanding absolutely what that means. Hope comes in small flares to my family, only to be snuffed out. My brothers return from war, but not Shade. Then Shade returns, only to be lost again. They lose Shade, but they gain Clara. They lose me, but my father gains his legs and lungs back. They say goodbye to me on a tarmac when I fly back to Norta to save a country that has never bothered with me, but gain their safety. They almost lose me in Norta when I go the second time. I return to them though, dragging a heartbroken prince behind me. I wish I could tell Dad what is coming, that the future will be better, even if we lose parts of ourselves along the way. He rolls inside though, leaving me on the porch while a weak river breeze cuts through my hair.
((((/////////))))
I’m already awake when the officers kick down our door. I couldn’t sleep, planning every second of tomorrow down to the second. I don’t care that my plan may not survive the first few moments. I will make sure that nothing goes completely off kilter.
I wake Gisa slowly, and help her out of her cot then down the ladder. She accepts my help at first, and leans on her good arm for support as she goes. Mom waits for us on the floor, and opens her arms to Gisa before engulfing her in a hug. She keeps her eyes on my though. I know why. They’ve come for me, and whatever motherly instinct she possess has told her so.
Two officers wait by the door, with Walsh between them. My chest tightens at the sight of her. In almost a month, she will be foaming at the mouth on the floor a chamber. Does she feel her clock ticking down like I do?
“We submit to search and seizure,” Dad grumbles, but the officers don’t move. Walsh raises a clean brow at my father’s words though. Stepping forward she brings her eyes to me. “Miss Barrow, you have bee summoned to Summerton.”
I expel the breath I’m holding. I had worried that Cal had given Walsh different orders, maybe to take me another way, but apparently he understood that today has to occur. Gisa’s good hand closes around mine, and I hear for the first time her whisper, “no.”
“You have been summoned to Summerton,” Walsh repeats when I stay rooted to the spot, shocked by Gisa’s words. “We will escort you. Please proceed.”
She gives me a smile as I step forward, but Gisa doesn’t let go of my hand. Seeing this Walsh dips her head to my parents. “Don’t worry, everything’s settled after yesterday. The Hall and the market are well controlled now. Please proceed.”
This is a summons from the crown prince, even if Walsh doesn’t know that, she has to follow her orders. We can’t arrive too early though. I have to get there just in time, so that everything lines up. Turning back to Gisa, I untangle my hand from hers. She leaps forward, making a move to grab me, but Mom holds her back. I give her a little smile in response, hoping to calm her nerves. “I’ll see you soon.”
Dad’s hand brushes my arm, his own form of goodbye, while Mom’s eyes swim with tears. One of the officers grabs my arm and pulls me toward the door. I look back at the three of them though. The world changes from here too. When they see me again, I won’t be the same. Cal will be with me this time though. We’ll have to come up with something far more convincing than him being from Harbor Bay when we see my family again. We’ll be prepared for that encounter at least.
The door slams in my face, and I turn forward to watch Walsh descend our ladder. One of the officers pushes me toward it and I follow her to the ground. I’m hustled through the village then, and I know why. Queenstrial awaits, and Walsh does not want to be late.
I focus on my hands the entire ride in the transport, counting the seconds until I’m trapped in gilded cage with Elara. While Montfort tried to teach us ways to combat whispers, the methods aren’t perfect. Elara was a master of her craft too, I don’t know how much my techniques will help me. My secrets have to remain my own though. She can’t know what is to come.
We stop at the gate, and after we are let through, I feel Walsh’s eyes on me. She gives me a soft smile. “I’m Ann, by the way, but we mostly go by last names. Call me Walsh.”
I know. I know more about her than she could ever imagine. She raises a brow at my continued silence. I snap my head when I realize she’s waiting for me to respond. Her name is supposed to ring a bell. Grimacing, I say, “You’re from the Stilts.”
“I am. I knew your brother Tramy, and I wish I didn’t know Bree. A real heartbreaker that one.” She teases, and I can’t help the smile that those words conjure. A heartbreaker indeed. He had half of the Montfort women eating out of the palm of his hand after living there for only two months. She tilts her head to the side at my expression and muses, “I don’t know you though. But I certainly will.”
Yes, yes you will. You’ll probably regret it too.
She waits for another response before raising a brow. “Not the talking type I see. Well, you should know you’ll be working long hours here. I don’t know who hired you or what they told you about the job, but it starts to wear on you. It’s not all changing bedsheets and cleaning plates. You have to look without seeing, hear without listening. We’re objects up there, living statues meant to serve.”
Not for much longer.
She sighs before opening the door of the transport and helping me out. After wrenching open a door from the wall, she begins to lead me down a flight of stairs. I follow quickly. Queenstrial awaits. Cal is waiting. He told me once that today was both the worst and best day of his life. Worst because he knew it was the day he would never escape Evangeline again, and the best because I managed to ruin everything about Evangeline’s big day. I had pushed a pillow into his face in response, and he’d laughed himself hoarse about it.
Walsh hurries down the stairs, looking over her shoulder to shout, “Keep up, I don’t have time to hold your hand!” Scrambling to catch her, I descend into a dark tunnel that runs underneath the market and into the Hall of the Sun. She waits for only a moment before saying, “You serve the king now, there’s no time for dilly dallying.”
((((/////////))))
I hurry along a hall of the Spiral Garden, keeping my eyes on the red servant in front of me. He’s much older than me, and I can see it in the way his shoulders slump as he walks. Queenstrial is set to begin, and a bead of sweat runs down my neck when I being to wonder if I’m in the right place. What if I’m not in the right place in line? How long was I in the Samos box for? What if I’m not the servant that goes up to the box I fell out of? Can I stage a fall from the servant’s box? I doubt it.
By the time I get to the elevated platform the other servants are standing on, I bump my way into line, hoping that I’m in the right place. As I do so, the High Houses enter. I strain to catch sight of them, memories of sitting with Lady Blonos and memorizing their colors bubbling to the surface. Dark blue and red, House Iral. Blue and green, House Osanos. Green and Gold, House Welle. Green and Black, House Viper. Gold and Black, House Provos. I can recall them all from memory. In another year, many of them will be dead.
I look them all over, and manage to spot Ara Iral, looking beyond bored in her box. But she’s also spying, I know that, cataloging everything away for later. In my distraction, I almost miss my call to the Samos box. I leap to attention, hurrying but trying to make it look like I’m not. I dance between bodies, lighter on my feet than I was even when I was this age.
I enter the Samos box silently, shifting the curtain aside. From behind, I can see every muscle Ptolemus tries to hide in his fancy shirt. Like Cal, he’s never been able to hide the fact that he would rather be a warrior. My stomach still curls at the sight of him. To think in a few months he will be the reason Clara doesn’t have a father. The sight of Volo makes me queasy. Evangeline told me what fate befell her father in Archeon during the Lakelanders attack, and I wonder if I’ll ever be able to look him in the eye without picturing his face flattened against the deck of a ship.
I draw my tongue along my lip before saying, “Sir?” He doesn’t even notice me, and a part of me almost laughs. What I wouldn’t give for him to ignore me like this in a few months. Soon, he won’t be able to. He holds out the empty water glass to me, a bored look on his face. “They’re toying with us, Ptolemus.”
Taking the glass from him, I wait for Ptolemus to finish his. His eyes dance to me in confusion for a moment over his rim before he offers me the glass. I stifle the shake in my hand as I take it, panic coursing through me as he continues to watch my hands. “A demonstration of power, Father.” He says nonetheless as I hurry away to hide my face from him. “They make us wait because they can.”
I want to spit in his face, or at least make a face in his direction like a child. To think Cal still respects you when you talk about him like a dog you can’t get to heel. Then again, Cal never did hesitate to throw a quip about Ptolemus out.
I fill their glasses at the sink when the tone sounds, announcing the royal family. I close my eyes and expel a slow exhale. From where I hide in the flowers, I can see the High Houses all rise to their feet. Ptolemus whispers something to Volo, and I wish I was close enough to know what it was. Peeking out from the flowers, I watch as Cal’s father steps onto the balcony. My skin prickles at the sight of him. I can’t begin to imagine what Cal felt the first time he saw him. I know the first time I see Shade I’ll clutch him a hug like never before. I couldn’t imagine Cal doing that with his father, but I’m sure even being near him is making his heart ache. This is a torture neither of us could ever prepare for. Perhaps that’s the dark side of Giselle ability. You could see your happiest moments and the people you haven’t seen in years, only to remember that this has already occurred and you are simply reliving pain.
From behind him, Elara floats out. I have to clutch the sink to keep from ducking out of sight. She doesn’t know I’m here, she doesn’t even know I exist yet. My plan is going to fail within seconds of seeing her, I know it. My weak little defenses will not withstand her ability. She’ll see everything. She’ll kill Cal, and hang his body up for everyone to see. Weak like his mother, she’ll say. He was sympathetic to the reds, he had to be removed. And it will be my fault.
“Death to the Scarlet Guard!” rings out from several of the boxes, jarring me from thoughts. I dare a glance to see who is yelling. Haven is the only house I have time to catch before the King shouts back at them.
“The Scarlet Guard—and all our enemies—are being dealt with!” The crowd silences immediately and my lips curl up in a smile at that. I don’t miss this man, not in the slightest.
“—today we honor tradition, and no Red devil will impede that. Now is the rite of Queenstrial, to bring forth the most talented daughter to wed the most eligible son.” He continues in his speech, and I crane my neck down the stairs to check on Volo. He hasn’t moved, although he does lean over to whisper something else to Ptolemus. I grip the glass tightly in my hand as I turn the sink on again to hide my breathing. I might be sick right here in this room. If I see him, if I look into those blue eyes will I be able to avoid falling apart?
“Both of my sons honor our most solemn custom,” he waves them forward, and I dare a glance at the back of their heads. Cal’s on the other side of his father. He can’t see me, unless her turns his shoulders and cranes his neck slightly. I squeeze my hand into a fist though as Maven slowly turns, raising his hand in a greeting I know has been perfected by his mother. I slowly set the glasses down and grab the edge of the sink.
He’s so young, so… clear eyed. He’s not haunted by his demons yet. They’re still alive and standing next to him though. And in that moment, as I look at him, I begin to regret everything. I should have just told Cal that we could do this alone. That we could get to Montfort on our own. We would be at the Rift by now if we had left last night. I should have ignored Jon, I should have said to hell with his meddling, and run. I can’t face Maven again.
Cal is announced. He turns slowly, smiling and waving politely. When he turns to the Samos box, I can see his eyes searching. When he pauses, and makes eye contact with me, I raise my hand in a small wave. His hand barely twitches. It could be a wave to the Samos family and the others Houses will never know it was for me. He turns forward once more, and I turn the sink off.
I told him I could do this, I told him that we were in this together. I can’t leave him now.
In a daze, I leave Volo and Ptolemus their glasses. Even as I climb the stairs, I can’t forget the brief flash of Maven’s eyes. I won’t be able to escape them after this. Inhaling slowly but surely, I return to the servants’ platform. I feel like I can’t breathe. In an hour, I will let myself fall off a platform and into a force field and then, I’ll let myself be betrothed to the man who tried to kill me numerous times. Is this what Cal felt? In the first moment that he had run into Maven, had he felt this rush of emotions? Had his chest felt like it was going to cave in, and his legs were going to fall out from underneath him?
His father is still shouting, completing the announcement of Queenstrial. I dare another look at him. He’s still smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. As every house claims their right to Queenstrial, his smile wavers a little more until it falls so low that he has to brings his lips back up. Just a little longer, I want to tell him.
When his father turns to Lord Provos to order the arena created, Cal’s eyes dance up to the servants’ box, and catch mine. His shoulders rise and fall in what must be a slow, deliberate exhale. He’s searching for control, or maybe a reprieve. He won’t get one until we find Giselle though.
Underneath my feet, the platform lurches, and moves. That’s the last look I’ll get until he finds me in that hallway. The hum of electricity underneath my feet tells me the shield has activated, and the fight has only begun. The floor opens and Rohr appears a moment later. She’s even tinier than I remember. She bats her doe like eyes at Cal, and smiles. She’s little more than a child. So was I though. I’m older now though, and I have the wisdom to back it up.
((((/////////))))
It feels like it has been hours. My eyes burn, and my skin crawls until I feel like I’m going to explode like a live wire. Any longer and I might just throw myself over the railing and into the shield to kick start this whole thing. Evangeline was last, but as the parade continues, I softly set my hand on the railing, prepared to throw myself over.
The minute I think I might actually do that though, the platform at the bottom rises once more, and the sun catches the highlights of platinum blonde hair. My heart beats erratically and a bead of sweat rolls down the back of my neck. Her eyes dart up and around, but her expression is cold. Years ago, I thought that the light in her eyes was malicious. Now I know better. I know that she’s just as disgusted, and irritated with this whole process as everyone else is. Unlike the other girls, she is not seeking out Cal, she is seeking out the crown Elara is wearing. She’s seeking the safety of being queen, where no one will question Elane curling up by her side, and her father won’t be able to order her to do anything. She looks nothing like the woman I remember grabbing coffee with just a few days before I was chasing Giselle down a backstreet.
I wish she was that woman. That would make things so much easier.
Her father calls her name and her ability, and a moment later, I’m summoned to a box. My heart hammers in my chest as I pace down thin hallways to answer the call. Once I step into that box, my fate is sealed. I’m going to have to find something deep within myself. Jon had warned me though, had told me to find the strength to get through this. I have to have some faith. Not in him of course, but in myself. I learned that hard lesson at Corros.
As I gather plates and glasses, I keep my eyes on Evangeline on the screen. She prowls around, searching for something to work with. With a flick of her wrists, and iron studs on her jacket start to move. I can’t help but roll my eyes at the theatrics. And she claims that I’m dramatic. She sets to work destroying the arena while I make my way slowly but surely toward the biggest open space in the box I can find. If she doesn’t tilt the arena, then all of this is for nothing.
Evangeline never disappoints though.
The floor shifts underneath me, and I squeeze my hand into a fist at my side. Even though I know I’m going to be just fine in the next few seconds, it doesn’t mean I want to fall thirty feet into a force field. The box tips, and I force an exhale through my teeth. A body slams into me, and I let myself fall.
It’s a much shorter fall than I remember, so I hit the shield a lot harder than I want. Sparks fly across my skin, and I close my eyes. I feel like a battery getting recharged, and every volt of electricity that burns through me makes me feel whole. The shield wavers underneath me, and I only have a second to push to my knees and spit a curse before it fails completely. I fall the last twenty feet and curl up into a ball as I hit a pile of dust and sand. The blow doesn’t quiet knock the wind out of me, but it still leaves me stunned for a moment.
Shaking myself out as I try to climb to my feet, I glance up at Evangeline. I’d forgotten the look she’d given me the first time she saw me. The mix of terror, horror, and fear is startling. She never looks at me like that again, not even in the Bowl of Bones when I create a storm from nothing. Above us, the rest of the High Houses gasp and murmur.
I swallow as I glance around and then back at Evangeline who takes a tiny step back. I don’t have time to say anything this time, because she throws a hail of metal shards at me. I gasp and throw up a net of lightning to catch them. The shards shriek and burst apart a few feet away from me. I release the net and it explodes out, hitting the far wall behind Evangeline. She throws herself to the side to avoid being hit by any stray bolts.
I hadn’t been that close to hitting her the first time. I grimace, as she whips her head around to look at the hole in the wall before turning her eyes back to me. I would stamp my foot at my stupidity, if Cal’s father didn’t shout for the Sentinels. They bleed out of the shadows in the boxes, and I lick my lips for a moment, tasting the ozone from the shield on my skin. I dare a glance up at Cal who is trying his best to seem surprised by me. Drawing my lips in a tight line, I sprint for the hole in the floor. Just as gun fire explodes behind me, I drop into a slide and go feet first down the hole.
As soon as I hit the ground of the antechamber below, I start into a dead sprint. The cameras follow me, and every one I pass, I destroy. They explode like fireworks around me and rain sparks into the semidarkness.
I make it to the mirrored hall and pause for a second to take heaving breaths. My chest burns and my legs already ache. I dont have much time, but I need to start thinking of a plan—gun fire explodes over my head and I drop to a knee and cover my head as pits of the wall cut across my neck.
Two Sentinels come charging toward me. With a smirk, I charge them. They try to bring their guns up in time, but I drop to my knees and slide between the two of them and throw two well placed bolts of electricity into their hips as I go by. They collapse with a clang of metal, and I scramble to my feet, sprinting once more. At least the hallways are familiar enough to me that I don’t have to stop to think about where I’m going. I only hope that Cal’s memory is as good as mine.
I end up in a hallway, panting and a worried that I’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere. How far away is Cal? Had it been a mistake to knock out the cameras on my way here? Maybe that was how he’d found me last time.
Footsteps sound from the hall that connects to the one I’m in and spin into a defensive stance, lightning dancing in my hands. Cal comes around the corner though, his entire uniform askew. He catches himself on the wall and I drop my hands immediately. He approaches quickly and his bracelet sparks before a wall of fire encircles us, successfully obscures us from view.
He reached out for me, and I grab his arm panting, “Don’t have much time, the Sentinels.”
He nods his eyes scanning over my charred uniform. “Elara—”
“I can do this, just don’t knock me out.” I growl as I meet his eyes. There isn’t time for him to play hero or savior right now. He shakes his head quickly and says, “We’ll think of something else.”
“No time. And if you try to dissuade her, she’ll know something is wrong. Let me face her, trust me.”
He looks like he wants to argue more, but the sound of Sentinels shouting on the other side of the fire makes him whip his head around. I grab his cheek and force his eyes back to me. “Everything will be fine,” I assure him with a little smile. He looks even more uncertain, but his jaw tightens in understanding. I let my legs go limp, forcing him to catch me. Cradling me close to his chest he slowly lowers the wall of fire, whispering, “Be brave. I’ll see you soon.”
I let myself hold onto the image of his face for a second longer than I should, but if I do mess up with Elara, I want to at least remember those as his last words.
#The Chain#red queen#glass sword#kings cage#war storm#broken throne#post broken throne#my writing#my fanfics#marecal#gosh these poor babes are in for a world of hurt#I'm so excited#okay I'm only slightly nervous to write maven in this fic#it's been a haut minute since I wrote him#wish me luck#we enter hell officially next chapter#open your angst passports and prepare to have them stamped at the gate#mare barrow#cal calore#time travel is..... hard
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The Chain (Part 4)
Main concept: Two love struck idiots get sent back to a pretty UGH time period in their lives (that required me to reread all the books again) and have to hide the fact that they know everything.
Find Part 1/Part 2/Part 3
Tag List: @delilahlbard, @king-maven-calore (you didn’t explicitly ask to be tagged but I saw your tags on part 2), @scxrletguardsdawn, @freaky-freiday, @whatsup-gorls, @kuwei, @redqueenetwork, @elane-in-the-shadows. If you want a tag please ask (((:
Chapter 4
I run.
I run until my lungs burn and my legs can’t go another step. I had left as soon as Gisa had gone through the front door. She’ll tell our parents what happened. I don’t need to be there, not to see what I had done once again. I could have prevented this. I could have stopped this stupid little misfortune. In the grand scheme of things, it had meant nothing. I had been only thinking about myself though, and following Jon’s words to get me back. I guess I really hadn’t changed that much over the years.
I brace myself against one of the light posts that illuminate the inn. It’s crowded with patrons, all of them filtering in and out like fish in a stream. These are the people who work in the court. This is where Cal hides.
My heart pounds, and my face which is still wet with tears burns. Now I would have to face this. I would have to face the man I loved, but he wasn’t that yet. He was still the boy who thought he would be king. I could laugh. From the moment Maven was born, Cal was never going to be king. Maybe I can convince this Cal of that. This nightmare is full of ghosts, and it chills me to the bone.
I take quick steps forward, my blood boiling again as I think about Gisa delicate fingers shattering under a gun, and Kilorn’s bloody knuckles. A prince, I need a prince. I need a crown prince to be specific, to get me a job in the palace, to save Kilorn, and to save Gisa. I need him, whether it’s my Cal or not.
I feel like an idiot as I choke back more sobs and push through the crowd of men that stumble from the inn. I take some of my fury out on their sides as I elbow my way through them. They simply laugh though, drunk and happy. They couldn’t care less about a girl shoving her way through them. I kick the door to the inn open, drawing the attention of a few eyes near the entrance. I never came in here; I wasn’t allowed to because I was too young.
I don’t care anymore though. I stalk through the room filled to the brim with drunk servants and seasonal workers. I look for a pair of golden eyes. He’d be in the shadows. It’s too bright in here for him to be out in the open. These people would recognize him. I need to find him though, so his hiding only infuriates me more.
I search every corner, but he’s not here. My blood runs cold and I flip around in a circle thinking that there must be one more place that a prince could hide. As I do though, the barman catches sight of me. He points a finger at me, shouting in disbelief, “Hey, you, girl!”
All the patrons turn to look at me, a few of the men raising their brows and stare more than necessary. I freeze on the spot, unsure of what to do. I know what I look like though. There’s dried blood on the back of my neck from where it hit the pavement during the fight with the cloner, and my eyes are puffy and red from crying. I look like hell. I’m surprised no one questioned me until now.
The barman shoves his way out from behind the bar and grabs my arm in a vice. I struggle against him as he spits, “You’re too young to be in here. How’d you even get in?”
I claw at his hand but he simply drags me behind him through the rows of tables and chairs spitting, “Stay out of here until you’re old enough. Whore yourself out somewhere else.”
He grabs the door and rips it open before tossing me out into the darkness. I hit the dirt hard enough that the air in lungs escapes in a wheeze. Behind him I can hear a chorus of laughter and cheers before the door slams.
Propping myself up on an elbow in the middle of the road, I swipe at my eyes, embarrassed at myself for just standing there and letting him throw me out like common garbage. Lightning blazes to life between my fingers but I stifle it, and slam my fist into the dirt. I can’t believe I thought that storming in and dragging someone out was going to work. I push myself to my feet even though every part of me aches. Cal has to be here. I never saw him go in while I was pickpocketing everyone on their way out. He was inside when I got here, he had to be.
The door opens again, and I turn away from it, my hands wrapping around my elbows to hug them to my chest. I don’t care what happens anymore. If any man or woman tries to grab me right now, I’ll fry them where they stand.
Starting down the road at a brisk pace, I resolve myself to fact that I’ll have to find some other way into Queenstrial.
Boot crunch through the dirt behind me, and I tense in anticipation before releasing one of my elbows to glance down at my palm. It’s covered in dirt and little cuts. This will never end; this miserable experience will be worse than the first time around.
“Thief?” a voice questions from behind me, uncertain and hesitant. It’s the softest someone has spoken to me since I woke up in my loft again. I know that voice though. It’s whispered a thousand things against my skin and underneath sheets. It’s soothed me after nightmares, and argued with me, and done everything in between.
I flip around, hope flaring, even though I try to crush it. The last thing I need is to face him and it not be him. My chest tightens when I see him though, standing in the limited light, his eyes burning just as much as I remember. I want to touch him, to reach out and make sure he’s real. His shoulders are so tense as he waits for my response, his eyes darting over me, taking in everything.
“Obviously,” I whisper the word, wondering if this Cal knows what that word means. Maybe he asked because he was curious, maybe this is all just a ploy for him to understand some Red girl who came careening into a bar like a bat out of hell.
He scrutinizes me for another second, until I take a step forward my hand shaking at my side. “Cal,” I beg softly, knowing it’s a mistake to call him by that if it’s not really him. He surges forward though, his arms wrapping around me and almost crushing me in an embrace. I panic for a moment, thinking he might be trying to kill me, only to feel a soft hand running along my hair as he chokes in my ear, “Mare.”
I melt in his arms, fresh sobs coming as I wrap my arms around him and ball his shirt into my fists. I could scream with joy for the first time in days. I’m not alone, he’s here, he’s with me. I don’t have to go through this horror show without him.
When he peels me off of him, he reaches up to wipe at my eyes, his touch warm. I grab at his hands trying to feel them, to know this is real. “I thought,” I choke, as I touch his forearms, and then his shoulders, “I thought you weren’t here. That I was alone.”
He shakes his head, before pressing his forehead to mine. I close my eyes and trace my hands up to his neck before cupping his jaw.
“I’m here,” he breathes to me, and my legs almost give out in relief. “I thought you weren’t here, I thought I was alone too.” His breath is hot on my nose, but I relish it. His hands drop to my waist, and he exhales sharply. I pull away for a moment, panic flaring in my chest until I see the pain behind his eyes.
“I forgot how small you were,” he manages to say. How thin and frail is what he means, and I know it.
I give him a weak smile in response and look him over. He doesn’t look much different from the man I had seen only a few mornings ago. That haircut though, forgotten gods I forgot how much I hated that stupid military cut. I run my fingers along the short crop at the side, trying to stifle a laugh. He looks so young with it. He reached up to grab my hand and bring it to his lips.
“I know it looks stupid,” he chuckles to himself, before pressing another kiss to my palm.
His skin is clean shaven, that hadn’t been there when I had last seen him. I press a kiss to his cheek, smelling the soap he uses. He hugs me close in response, like I might disappear if he doesn’t hold onto me tight enough. “I practically tore apart the market looking for you today. Where have you been?” He asks against my temple. I tense for a moment and then whisper, “Living through the shit show that was the days before I met you.”
His hands stop traveling along my ribs and he pulls away before asking, “Does anyone… does anyone remember you?”
I shake my head in response. “Do they remember you?” I’m almost afraid to ask. He’s in more danger than I am if they do. If Elara knew the truth about him and what was to come though, she would have killed him at the first chance. “Not that I know of.”
He exhales in relief.
I have to tell him; I know I do. “I saw Jon,” I whisper, and his eyes harden. “I saw him in the Stilts.”
“Why was he there?”
“He… he’s the one that killed Kilorn’s master. He’s the reason I even took Gisa to Summerton and met you.” I whisper the words as a few patrons leave the inn. They spot us and two of them whistle and tease before traveling up the road. Cal’s eyes follow them in the dark until they vanish around a bend. He turns his attention back to me and says, “What did he tell you?”
Always right to the point with him, I suppose I need that though. Gripping his hand I whisper, “He told me we have to stay on the original path… if we want to get back.”
“You didn’t ask him where to find Giselle?”
“No,” I reply coolly, “I was too busy trying to save my friend.”
“He ends up fine anyway.” Cal argues, his expression hardening. We need Giselle, we need her to send us back, if she even can. I squeeze his hand, now is not the time for us to fight over this. “He’ll be back.”
“But not for months, Mare.” Cal urges me to understand.
“He wouldn’t tell us the truth anyway. He’d send us on some roundabout goose chase to help his cause. I hate saying this, but we need to trust his word.” I wish I could throw up after saying that. I trusted Jon about as far as I could throw him. But my goal aligns with his for now. He wants to see a future where Norta is no longer a monarchy. I want to go to Montfort with Cal and go back to our lives. Those lie along the same path.
Cal sighs at my words, knowing they are true. “What do we do?” He finally asks, as we break apart for a moment. I shiver without his blanket of warmth. Rubbing my arms to remove the goose bumps I say, “We have to make sure things go to plan.”
“We have to let things go to plan.” He clarifies, before raising a brow at me questioning stare. “Things are already snowballing. I sat in two meetings today that I remember vividly because of what was discussed. Word for word Mare, everything is already occurring.”
“So we just have to ride it out.” I agree, even though a part of me knows that will be the worst part. Before I had been a participant, now I will be a bystander.
“Come back to Summerton with me tonight,” he pleads, and I look up in surprise. He chews on his lower lip before explaining, “You’ll be there tomorrow anyway, and I’ll know you’re safe.”
“I’ll be there tomorrow because you’ll get me a job,” I say with a smirk. I wish I could go with him to Summerton, but I have to be picked up by the officers and Walsh tomorrow. I squeeze his fingers once more and say, “Just send for me like you did before. I’ll be there after that and we can sort this whole mess out.”
He looks uncertain about that, and I have to set my hands on my hips to glare at him. He grimaces at that look, knowing it means he won’t be able to make me budge.
“Maybe you shouldn’t come.”
“Did you not just hear what I told you? We have to follow everything—”
“And that’s fine, until Elara looks inside your head like she did before and sees everything.” He interrupts, his voice collected and calm. It looks so odd for a younger Cal to be talking like that. If he were actually his twenty-year-old self, he would have been shouting by this point in time.
“She was looking for my past, to make sure I was Red,” I say with an annoyed wave of my hand. He laughs at my words and run a hand down his face replies, “until she finds out there is a whole bunch of time that is repeated, and that you have all these years of your adult life that an inexplicable. You don’t think that would trigger any red flags?”
“Well are you going around putting red flags everywhere that would make her look for that time?” I grumble, wondering if he has been doing exactly that. Or was he doing what I did, and just trying to tip toe around everything and get a feel for the situation?
His face pales, and he looks away for a moment. My heart flutters in panic. What have you done you idiot, I want to demand. “Did you give them a reason to question you?” I ask softly. Screaming at him isn’t going to change anything. He might have thought this was all some coma dream anyway.
“I almost killed Maven.” Cal whispers the words and my skin burns with lightning at the mention of them.
“Almost killed him?” I breathe, and he grimaces before pressing the heel of his palm into the bridge of his nose. “I was walking around a corner, trying to figure out what had happened, and I slammed into him. I thought I was having a stroke and I—I almost killed him.”
“As in took a knife to him?” I gasp, but he shakes his head quickly and replies, “No, I almost lit him on fire. As if that would have done anything.” He grumbles the last part. My shoulders relax though. Maven would have thought he had just startled Cal. Nothing had happened. I end up laughing. He glares at me as I slowly lean against a lamppost and laugh until my sides ache.
“I don’t think that’s very funny.” He spits, which only makes me laugh harder. When I finally have enough air in my lungs I gasp, “I would have fried him on the spot and actually killed him if I came around a corner and smashed into him.”
Cal’s lips curl up in a smile as he says, “I ran too. I think he thought I was having an attack or something.” He laughs too, realizing that no damage has really been done. I shake my head slowly and then whisper, “As long as we don’t give them a reason to go digging, they won’t go digging.”
“So you want to do this? You want to fall into a force field, get captured, be interrogated and then shoved into a dress?” Cal asks carefully, all humor gone. I shake my head slowly as I glance down the road in the direction of the Stilts. “I want to be able to do everything without going through that process. I have to be in the palace though, because I have to be the one that Farley seeks out.”
His lips draw into a tight line before he says, “I’ll join with you.”
“Cal,” I groan as I let the back of my head rest against the post, “you can’t. It has to be Maven, because you have to turn me down on the bridge, and you have to bring me into the palace because Maven has to betray us.” The stubborn ass just doesn’t get it.
“Well I end up a traitor anyway, I might as well do something with that. I can get you better information than Maven anyway. He only sat on some of our father’s councils. I sat on all of them.”
“And that’s great, until Farley takes one look at you and puts a bullet between your eyes.” I huff. It would be great to have him as my partner rather than Maven, because at least then the information being given was honest. He looks furious with the whole idea, and I know why. Reaching out I take his hand and run my thumb along his knuckles. “I’ll be fine. I know what he is.”
“That doesn’t mean—“ he trails off, his eyes going up the road in the direction he has to go. I know what he’s thinking about now too. He’s thinking about the question he asked me years ago, when we first decided to try this again. I have the choice now. I could save Maven, and choose him. My heart aches at the idea. I told him I could never answer that question. I still believe that I could never answer that question. I push off of the post and step closer to him, letting his arms slide around me and bring me close. Resting my cheek on his chest, I whisper, “I love you. I loved you in this moment, and I still will love you years later.”
He doesn’t look too certain with my words, but I grab his face and pull him down for a short kiss. When I trail my lips up to his ear I whisper, “I agreed to marry your dumb ass didn’t I? I didn’t run for the hills when you asked, what makes you think being back here will change that?”
“That you are going to be reminded of the man I was,” he grumbles as he glances down at me. Tilting my head to the side to see him better in the light I reply, “But I know the man you become. I’m not going through this whole mess with Tiberias. I’m going through this with Cal. I know I can trust him, and that he loves me. I know that what you will do is all to get us through this. Just like you have to know that everything I do is to get us to the end.”
A kiss on a boat, and many, many hours with his brother. I’m a good actress now, better than I was when I first came to the Hall of the Sun. I’ll need to be to beat Elara and Maven though. I learned at the feet of the master and I’m ready to turn that against him. Cal needs to be just as good though.
“I’ll walk you home,” he whispers into my hair, and I close my eyes as I wrap my arms around him. I’ll see him tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that. I’ll be with him through this whole thing and we will work this out.
“We can stay here for a bit.” I whisper to him, and his eyes dance to mine. There’s no storm approaching this time, but I still remember the way his eyes flashed in that Peidmont glen. “Only for a bit though,” I whisper as I trail my fingers up his sides, letting little sparks follow my touch, “I have to get back so that Walsh can find me early in the morning.”
The side of his lips quirk up and I return the smile as I bury my face in his shirt. I try to memorize the smell. I won’t be able to be this close for a while, and I need to remember how it feels.
He trails his nose along the lines of my face, and I smile while tangling my fingers in his hair. “If you get nervous during your big moment tomorrow, you can look down into the Samos box. I’ll be there.”
He chuckles as he presses a kiss on the edge of my jaw. “I’ll be looking for you in the same hallway I found you in last time.”
“Go easy on the smoke this time please.” I tease before delivering a pinch to his side. He laughs at my words and murmurs against the curve of my ear, “Blow the cameras when you get there so that we can come up with a plan.”
I nod, until he nips at my ear. Damn him. Gripping the front of his jacket, I tilt my head up and whisper, “Always the soldier having to come up with plans, can’t you have a little fun and just wing it?”
Something sparks in his eyes as he pulls me into the shadows. “You know I’m very good at having fun.”
I wish that the next few weeks could be this. We will not be able to escape Elara’s omnipotence in the palace, but we might be able to sneak a few moments. Those might be the only things that keep me sane too.
#AYE#red queen#glass sword#kings cage#war storm#broken throne#post broken throne#The Chain#my fanfics#my writing#alright cal's in now#yall thought I was really gonna make poor mare go through this alone?#no#she has to have her trusty brick wall of a fiance at her side#alright so were half way through the chapter I've already written#I have to slow down on the posts or I'll run out of content#they had to fuck in the woods again#sorry#I had to go there#marecal#mare barrow#cal calore#time travel is..... hard
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