Poison 13 & 14

[maderr]

Chapter Thirteen

Noire wondered if this was what going mad felt like.

Trapped in a room with no way in or out. No way to mark the days other than by the food that waited for him every time he woke.

Everywhere now the room showed evidence of his attempts at escape. Nowhere, however, could he find a way out.

No one to talk to. He hadn’t even seen another person in what must be roughly three or four days. It was more than he could bear, except that he had no choice but to endure it. Desperately Noire scrambled for ways to distract himself from the confining space, from the fear that he would never leave it alive.

Three or four days, because he didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious before he woke that first time, or what time he’d even woken. That meant there were only five or six days until the Ceremony.

At which point he may or may not even care if he left his prison cell alive. If he wasn’t leaving it to find Gael, but only to bury him, then Noire had no desire to survive his kidnapping.

Not that he thought he would anyway, if he was going to be brutally honest. If he wasn’t completely mad, if he truly remembered everything correctly, then it was the Faerie Queen herself who had done this – for reasons he still could not fathom.

What was her ultimate goal?

Noire was tired of asking questions that had no answers. He could guess as to why this was being done until the day of the Ceremony itself and he still would have only questions. If the point was to get him out of the way, then why not simply kill him?

The Unicorn and Pegasus belong to me, and I am tired of you and that other always taking them away.

There was something he could think about. Who was the other? Taking them away?

Noire had pondered it over and over and he simply could not make sense of it. He hadn’t taken Gael away. Nor had anyone taken Freddie away…the Queen and Guardians were as close, if not closer, to each other than real siblings. Freddie and Gael supported her in all things, and she in turn supported them, handling all foreign matters, more difficult matters of state, while they saw to the running of the country, the welfare of the people.

Out of the five countries, only two worshipped more than one god – and the Storm Bringers of Kundou were nothing like the Faerie Queen and Guardians of Verde. Just like their gods of wind and water, the people of Kundou had a tendency to trust to what those untamable elements would bring. Kundou was supposedly a beautiful land, the people exotic looking with their ocean-colored hair, their fearlessness in the face of the ocean that surrounded their small islands.

Verde wasn’t like that. It was the largest country in the world – Schatten was larger, but Schatten had been cut off from the world for so long most wondered if there was even a country there anymore, or if it was simply dead land now.

There were three Storm Dragons, it was said, because their power was so great. Some books even dared to suggest the Storm Bringers were the strongest of all the gods, as they controlled the powers of the sky and sea. So there were three of them, because even a god was not strong enough to do it alone.

Verde had three because of the enormity of its land. So much did the Faerie Queen love her creations, it was said, that she gave them as much space as she possibly could. The Highlands were vast, a collection of mountains and valleys that seemed to go on forever, stopping only at the Border Mountains in one direction, the ocean in the other. It was said from the Pegasus’ Cliff, the view of Verde was unsurpassed, and only there could the sheer size of the country truly be appreciated.

So three gods had undertaken to guard forever the land of Verde. One Guardian to watch the East, one to watch the West, and the Faerie Queen in her Palace to unite them all and ensure peace reigned throughout the land. To each of her children, she granted a Form, so they would appreciate their country, and understand it, in ways being human could not. So divided, however, the land was still too enormous and so the Guardians and Queen created the Great Beasts, six to each Guardian to help protect and care for the children of Verde.

Ordered. Controlled. Verde functioned because it had a system. It did not trust to the winds the way the people of Kundou preferred. Such recklessness would never work in Verde. The heart of the system, though, was the Queen and Guardians. A perfect Triad to keep the Highlands forever safe and happy.

Except…the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if things were as they should be. Verde should be a land constantly in harmony. Yet the night before he’d been kidnapped, he’d ferreted out yet more rumors of Form groups plotting to harass other groups. Foxes bickered with Rabbits, Horses were derided, Wolves and so many other predators acting arrogantly toward ‘lesser’ creatures.

Nobles constantly bickering, separating themselves completely from the lower classes. Even the Beasts, those who should most love all the children of Verde, spent more time arguing with each other, squabbling over trivial matters, than tending to their roles. Even those who did care, who tried to tend their duties – like Ailill, Verenne, Matilda, and Seraphin – tended not to have their hearts completely in it.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that the harmony of Verde was disintegrating…if any of it was even left. Was it simply that the system no longer worked? Noire frowned and shook his head. That…didn’t feel right.

He struggled to remember all that Gael had told him, on those few rare nights where they’d have hours simply to lay together…Noire closed his eyes and swallowed as longing crashed through him with the thought of his lover that had slipped in unbidden.

It took every bit of effort he could muster not to let himself drown in thoughts of Gael, and to bring himself back to the path his thoughts had been upon.

What was it Gael had told him? He’d read it in books, too, that Freddie had given him so that he’d better understand all that they did…

The Pegasus for the strength of the people – strength against calamity, strength against strife, strength to stand against all obstacles. Upon the wings of the Pegasus rests the will of the people to survive and prosper no matter what seeks to weaken them.

The Unicorn for the purity of the people – purity of the body, to fight against disease and weakness. Purity of the land to fight against blight and tragedy. Purity of the spirit, to live true to one’s heart. Upon the horn of the Unicorn rests the will of the people to live and flourish no matter what seeks to poison their spirit.

The Faerie Queen for the harmony of the people – strength and purity united, to prosper and flourish no matter what strife or tragedy strikes, to stand as one until the end of time. Upon the wings of the Faerie Queen rest all the children of Verde, beautifully and perfectly united.

Something there caught his attention, but Noire wasn’t quite quick enough to grasp it. He wasn’t smart enough for this – such things were more for Ailill or Gael. His role was delivering messages that he would not understand except Gael explained them when he was able. Gael always explained everything to him, perhaps in partial apology for having to keep him secret.

Oh, there went thoughts of Gael again. Noire fell back on the little bed that he already loathed and despised, forcing his thoughts to figure out what seemed to be so very close, and so very important…not that it mattered. He wasn’t going to leave this room no matter how hard he tried, no matter how badly he hoped.

What had been his original point, before his thoughts wandered so far away? Ah, that Queen Etain made no sense. The Unicorn and Pegasus belong to me, and I am tired of you and that other always taking them away. No one could take the Pegasus and Unicorn away. It was absurd. That statement didn’t even make sense. The three were united, brother and sisters forever. The peace of Verde relied upon them, their unity.

Though he still though it absurd, it almost was as if the Queen were jealous that Gael loved him. Absurd. That Gael loved him in no way meant that he loved his sisters any less. That would be like saying Freddie had loved them less while she’d been with Verenne…

Except she wasn’t with Verenne anymore. She’d ended the affair abruptly, with no warning. Nor had she ever given a reason for the decision…and she had always behaved with strange frigidity toward Verenne’s pain. As a Guardian, it should have upset her to see a Beast so troubled, never mind they had been lovers. On top of all that, Noire realized, heart racing as his thoughts sped along, tripping over themselves to get through his head, she had been spending more and more time at the Queen’s Palace, often not even leaving word of when she would return. Something that was wholly unlike Freddie. They all had taken it to be her way of avoiding Verenne, who every day seemed only more determined to not let Freddie get away with her behavior.

Was that…could that have some relation to his kidnapping? But why this for him, and somehow just…what had the Queen done to get Freddie from Verenne? Why let the affair last so long, only to break it off now?

That also made him wonder as to what the Queen really wanted from her Guardians. More than simply to call them brother and sister? Noire tried to shake the thought from his head, not liking the way it settled. For some reason, it felt wrong. Like that wasn’t how it should be. They were siblings, despite the fact they shared no blood ties.

Noire couldn’t believe it. This couldn’t all be the result of petty jealousy. He just could not accept that was the reason for this. Sighing softly, he turned over and buried his head in his pillow, forcing himself to think about the night he’d been kidnapped. It was something he’d avoided, hating to dwell on his own stupidity, but maybe there was some clue there.

What had she said? He remembered the one statement, about taking the Pegasus and Unicorn away from her, but she’d said something else before that. She’d been in the Form of a snow leopard…

In a thousand years, not once has that spirit changed. Through murder, betrayal, lies, deceit…it does not matter what I do to you, lover of Gael, always you return with that crystal spirit. As clean as untouched snow, as pure as the Unicorn Spring. It makes me hate you.

Well, that was stupid and useless. A crystal spirit? What did that mean? What did that have to do with anything? Noire dismissed it and focused on something else.

In a thousand years…

So…that meant this had happened before? Had it happened with every other Ceremony? Noire’s hands gripped the pillow tightly, knuckles white as he recalled his conversation with Ailill in the tower.

“Zhar Ptitka himself told us that our souls are forever bound, that in every life, no matter the circumstances, we will find each other again.”

“Do you think…do you think…”

“Ivan’s men were given a similar blessing, shortly before we left Pozhar. The Sacred Firebird promised that in every life, they would find each other and Ivan.”

“So it could be others are so blessed?”

“I have not a single doubt.”

So…were he and Gael like that? The Queen had said in a thousand years…Noire slowly sat up to sit on the edge of the bed, folding his hands together and propping his chin on them. Did that mean in every life they met…and always died? Were they always kept apart? Forced to keep their love a secret?

Noire hadn’t thought it was possible to feel more pain than he already did, but the thought that he and Gael might be…fated? Was that the word? Were they meant to always suffer like this? Never meant to truly be together?

Who would do something that cruel? Why? What had they done to deserve to always be kept apart?

He knew though – the Queen was the one who had said he’d been the ‘lover of Gael’ for a thousand years. So she was the reason. All because she…wanted Gael to love her? Was that it?

Surely he was just letting his thoughts spin out of control

Did that mean she wanted Freddie too? And so had somehow gotten Verenne out of the way?

Except the easiest way to eliminate them would have been to kill them. Why not just do that? Perhaps she was not quite capable of going that far…but if she’d been doing this in every life for a thousand years…if that was what had truly been going on all this time…

Noire shut the thoughts off, tired of them. Such things were beyond him. He didn’t doubt for a second that he’d managed to get it completely wrong. All of it sounded too absurd, too complicated, to be accurate. He was locked in a room with no way out, worried sick about his lover, dreading what would come in five or six days…of course his thoughts would spin wildly out of control.

Still…

He could not escape the idea that he and Gael had loved each other through a thousand years. That in every single life they had found each other…Noire laid back down on his side, curling his arms beneath the pillow, propping his head on it, letting his eyes slide shut. Did they always meet the same way? How different would everything have been? Was he always a cat?

Kitten…

Did Gael always kiss him the same way, leaving Noire wishing he could survive on those kisses instead of breathing? Was it always so immediate and sure, the way he suddenly could not live without Gael?

The thought that they’d always been together was a warming one, and made him really smile for the first time in days, even if it probably was just the fanciful wishes of a trapped, slowly going insane man. His fingers went absently to his throat, and the smile faded a bit as he remembered he had left the pin for Gael.

He hoped Ailill had figured it all out. Ailill was smart, more clever than anyone he’d ever met. Hopefully he would figure something out…Noire refused to hope they would rescue him. If the Queen was behind this, and if there was any possibility she had done this in past lives, Noire doubted he would be found. Assuming he was left alive.

No. He was tired of thinking about it. He wanted something happy to think about. If these really were his last days…he didn’t want to die thinking unhappy thoughts. He did not want to die any more miserably than he absolutely had to. There’d been enough misery. His fingers again found his throat, feeling for the pin that wasn’t there.

“I am glad no stupid rules dictate you must wear white, Kitten.”

Noire paused in the process of knotting his cravat. He grinned. “Me too. I’d look awful in white. I think you, Freddie, and Ailill are the only ones who really manage it.”

“I detest the color. Though, I didn’t mean so much that you’d look awful in white so much as you are utterly devastating in black…especially those boots, Kitten. Watching you get dressed is sheer torture.”

“Gael…” Noire ducked his head, such comments still surprising and disconcerting. No one had ever spoken to him so. He still wasn’t sure why Gael did, though he could at least accept Gael meant it – no one did the things they’d just done if they didn’t mean them, surely. Just thinking about it made his cheeks heat, and his head dipped further as he heard Gael draw close.

Soft lips – so wickedly soft, he hadn’t known lips could be so – brushed across his cheek as Gael forced his head up. “I mean it, Kitten.”

“I know,” Noire said, eyes closing as Gael kissed him properly, wishing he could stay here and never do anything else. “You’re the beautiful one, though, Gael. I don’t—”

Gael kissed him again, cutting the words off. “Enough, Noire. Do not say such things. Do not think them.” A quick, hard kiss punctuated the words. “I forbid it.”

Noire couldn’t help but grin. “Yes, Gael.”

“That’s my Kitten.” Fingers stroked down his arms, then moved to brush his sides before one slid around to stroke his spine. The touches were gentle, affectionate and soothing, warming Noire through. “I have a gift for you,” Gael said before he pulled away and walked toward his dressing table.

Noire blinked, cravat once more forgotten. “A…gift?”

Gael chucked softly. “Yes. A gift. Surely you know what those are?”

“Yes…” Noire said. Gifts were things nobles did. He’d gotten honey cakes and crepes for his birthdays of course…Freddie had ordered he be given everything a gentleman could possibly need when she took him under her wing. She’d even seen his favorite foods were prepared for his birthday, and that he got a case of his favorite wine.

“Are you certain?” Gael teased, approaching him again with a small jewelry box. “You look confused.”

“I…” Noire ducked his head, feeling foolish and every inch a poor peasant playing at gentlemen.

Gentle fingers grasped his chin and forced his head up. “Has no one ever given you a gift, Kitten?”

“I’ve gotten food. Clothes. Freddie gave me wine.”

Gael snorted softly. “That is not the same thing.” His thumb brushed over Noire’s lips before he dipped his head to brush a slow, sweet kiss across them. It made Noire ache, that simple kiss somehow more dizzying than all the hot, consuming ones Gael had given him earlier in the night.

The jewelry box was pushed into his hands, and Noire fumbled with it briefly before getting it open.

Inside was a cravat pin. Something only a gentleman would ever use. It was simple, plain, which Noire immediately liked. The gleam of the silver told him it was of the finest quality, the sort of ‘Highland Silver’ that foreign nations scrambled to get, molded into a teardrop shape. Gingerly he took it out of the box, then looked up at Gael and smiled. “It’s beautiful, Gael. Thank you.” He leaned up to kiss his lover – his lover, thinking that still amazed him. Even with the awful secrecy Gail insisted upon, thinking of the beautiful Unicorn as his lover made him want to never stop smiling.

Gael hummed into the kiss, his own happiness obvious. “I’m glad you like it.” Long, slender fingers went to Noire’s neck cloth, swiftly tying it into a simple knot before he took the pin from Noire’s fingers and fastened it in place. “It makes your eyes look almost silver, Kitten.”

Habit made Noire try to duck his head, shying away from the compliment, but Gael didn’t let him, merely tugged him close enough for another kiss. “I do not want to see you go, Kitten.”

“I don’t want to go,” Noire said. “You said one day, though…”

“Yes. I swear it.”

“Then I’ll go for now.” Noire reached up to wrap his arms tightly around Gael’s neck, taking a long, deep kiss that eased even as it burned. “Love you.”

“Not a bit more than I love you, Kitten.”



Chapter Fourteen


Gael resisted the urge to drive the servant from his rooms with a strong compulsion. He’d given orders he was to be left alone tonight. So rarely did he give such an order, was it too much to hope it would – could – be obeyed?

He supposed so.

As quickly as possible he listened to the problem and suggested a way to resolve it. “If the problem continues, seek out the White Fox or White Mongoose. If they cannot resolve the issue, then come to me.”

Bobbing a quick curtsy, the servant scurried from the room – finally leaving him in peace.

In peace with the figure still lying in his bed in the next chamber, fast asleep from sheer exhaustion. Gael wasn’t sorry a bit to have exhausted Noire so utterly.

Though, the few hours they still had, to be spent simply relaxing, talking quietly, was just as vital to him as the lovemaking. Noire was warm and sweet…utterly perfect.

Gael snorted at himself. He was behaving like besotted puppy. Foal, perhaps, would be more fitting. Shaking his head, Gael made certain his door was locked and then strode back into the bedchamber – only to find the bed empty and Noire at his dressing table.

“Kitten?”

Noire jumped slightly and turned around. Gael tilted his head, curious, then strode across the room to see what Noire was about. “Something intrigue you, Kitten?”

“No,” Noire said faintly. “I was just looking…”

Gael kissed him softly, knowing such a simple thing soothed Noire better than anything else. “At what?”

“I…” Noire ducked his head, obviously shy about something. It never failed to amaze him, how boldly Noire presented himself when delivering a message, when chatting with the stewards and footmen he got along with, simply striding through the halls…and how shy he turned when they were alone. Obviously Noire was good at masking, pretending. That the bold front was immediately discarded when Noire was alone with him pleased Gael more than it probably should. He liked that right from the first, the way that Noire hid nothing from him. “I was looking at your ribbons.”

Gael blinked. “My ribbons?” he asked, eyes going briefly to the array of white, cream, and gold ribbons with which he tied back his hair. Dozens of the things, in various shades, sheens, fabrics and cuts, far more than he needed or wanted. Every time the seamstresses said it was time he got new coats and whatever all else, they gave him new ribbons to match. As if he actually kept that sort of thing straight, or even cared to. He had more important things to worry about than which ribbon went with which morning or evening jacket. Honestly. “What about them?” Gael chuckled and winked. “Your hair is too short, I think. I wish such was the case with me, sometimes, but they all scream at the idea of cutting it.”

“I like your hair,” Noire said quietly. “It looks like gold, but feels softer than silk.”

The words pleased him, though he’d heard similar before and had fought only not to roll his eyes. He tugged Noire close and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, enjoying the mingled scent of them that still clung to Noire. Shy fingers stroked his hair, still loose, spilling halfway down his back. “Yours is far finer, but I am glad you like mine.” He slid one hand down Noire’s arm, intending to bring it up to circle his neck – and discovered instead there was something in his hand. He pulled away just far enough to lift the hand and see.

A long, pale blue ribbon. The color…Gael looked up, then tilted Noire’s head up to look into his eyes. Pale blue, so light and delicate they could nearly pass for silver. The ribbon was a nearly perfect match, and lacked only in the spark Noire’s eyes held. “What is this, Kitten?”

“I saw it when I was in the market, running an errand for Freddie. I thought…well…you said you liked my eyes…it’s probably silly…”

“I love it.” Gael emphasized the words with a kiss.

Noire was breathless when it finally ended, but nothing remained of his uncertainty. He smiled faintly, shy but pleased. “It’s not much.”

“It’s perfect, Kitten,” Gael replied, stroking his cheek. “The sort of ribbon I want to wear. Thank you.”

Noire smiled in that way that stopped his ability to do anything requiring thought. Gael kissed it, unable to resist taking a taste, then took the ribbon from Noire’s fingers and tossed all the others on his dressing table into a drawer, leaving only the pale blue one on top. Then he turned back to Noire and grabbed him close, kissing him deep before moving them both back to the bed.



Gael was jolted from his thoughts as the carriage came to an abrupt halt. He attempted to glare at the driver, but could not simply muster the energy to truly care.

He cared about nothing anymore. He felt all but dead. The Ceremony was only five days away now.

Across the country people stirred restlessly. Fights, near riots sometimes, were breaking out as tension exploded into violence. In other places people merely huddled in agonized silence, waiting for the days to pass and word to spread on whether or not the tragedy would be repeated.

His Beasts barely spoke to him, barely looked at him. He could not tell if they were angry or simply hurt, and wished he could do something to ease their pain. Day after day he had to fight to hold himself together, but if this went on much longer he was not certain it would.

Snarling, Gael threw himself from the carriage as soon as the door opened and stalked inside the palace, all but throwing his things at the waiting footmen, bidding one go announce his arrival.

He had never seen a footman run that fast.

Sighing heavily, Gael sent a second one after the first, forcing himself to be polite, to inform his sisters that he would be going to his room for a bit first. The very last thing he wanted to do was waste time here, but it could hardly be avoided with the Ceremony so close.

His clothes lay waiting in his room here, having been sent on once the final adjustments were made just yesterday. From this day onward, he would be in the royal palace – to reduce as much as possible the risk that something might go awry.

Not that he particularly cared anymore.

So many days, and not a single definitive clue as to Noire’s kidnappers or location had emerged. The last time Ailill and Ivan had appeared to give him a report, they had looked exhausted. If even half the rumors Gael was hearing of their investigation were true, it didn’t surprise him in the least. Quite the interesting band of Firelanders the White Panther had brought back with him. He’d heard that Pozhar had lifted its ban against magic, but he had not heard anything of Pozharians using the powers bestowed upon the children of Zhar Ptitka.

If he’d been able to muster up his sense of humor, he might have asked Ailill if his friends could set fire to a couple of particularly aggravating nobles. Or to Rodrigue when he was in a snit.

The thought of Rodrigue with a flaming mane dredged up a faint smile, but smiles made him think of the ones he was beginning to think he’d never again see. Gael shook his head and tried to remind himself that behavior such as this accomplished nothing. If one of his Beasts acted in such a manner, he would flay the idiot alive and tell them to keep trying.

He had done all he could to assist Ailill. His own part was to see to it that the Ceremony did not fail. How he was going to manage that, he could not even begin to imagine.

Well, not kill his sisters. Something told him that would be a good start. Which begged the question of why he would want to kill them. It was true he did not feel for them the same way they felt for him…though he still wondered at Freddie…but he did love them both dearly.

How did you not love two of the only people who knew just how all too human you were? Even his Beasts held him in some reserve, as did Freddie’s despite the casual name they called her. Only Etain and Freddie had known him as a child, playing in mud holes and climbing trees, determined to catch every lizard and frog he possibly could. Playing until dark and parents forced them inside. They’d just started learning the ways of the ladies and gentleman they would someday soon be expected to act like when Etain’s wings had appeared just after her twelfth birthday…and only days later he and Freddie had acquired their Forms, confirming what had already been suspected.

Their first kisses had come from one another, as had their first everything else. Through the transition from minor nobility to rulers of the country, they had been there for each other. As they met their Beasts, fully assumed their fated roles, Freddie and Etain had been with him, and he with them. Even as their duties forced them somewhat apart, too busy to be as close as they once were, the bond had ever remained.

Even as he sensed what they felt did not match his own feelings, the original bond had stuck. Why would he ever kill them?

If that question had an answer, though, he sensed there would not be nearly so many tragedies in Verde’s history.

Gael finally reached his room and closed the door behind him with a sigh before stripping out of his afternoon coat. He tossed it over the back of a chair before collapsing on a small settee.

Five more days of agony. He had survived this long, he could survive five more days. Assuming he lived, being a god would be all that was necessary to find his lover. If not…then what in the Queen’s name was the point of being a god?

Then, perhaps, he could find the culprit and repair his relationship with his Beasts. On top of all his other agonies – Noire, the Ceremony, his sisters – that his Beasts were having very little to do with him only rubbed salt in his wounds. It was like a plant first deprived of sunlight, then of water…now he was slowly being torn out by the roots.

Somewhere in the distance he could just hear bells tolling the eleventh hour.

Etain and Freddie would be expecting him for their early lunch. He’d best not keep them waiting too long. Did he really have the energy to do this? To sit and act like everything was normal? That his only source of stress was the looming Ceremony?

He didn’t have a choice.

Standing, Gael strode into his bedroom and the wash stand there. He poured water into the bowl, breathing in the faint scent of lavender with which it had been scented. Quickly he undid his cufflinks and rolled up the sleeves before washing off his hands and face, freshening up as much as he could, using the cooled water to wake him up a bit. He fixed his shirt as he moved to the dressing table, then reached up to remove the ribbon from his hair.

His eyes fell helplessly to the ribbon in his hands, his thumb stroking over it. Over the years, the sheen of it had faded slightly, heavily worn where his hair constantly brushed against it. The color had not faded however, still so close to the pale, delicate blue of Noire’s eyes. He’d never seen their match – so delicate a balance between blue and silver. Beautiful. He smiled faintly as he recalled the same memory that had drifted into his thoughts during the interminable carriage ride.

There was no choice. If the Ceremony was his only way to reclaim Noire, then he would have to do whatever was necessary to see it was properly completed, that he left the Ceremony chamber a true Guardian. He could not imagine what would possibly drive him to kill his sisters, especially with so much at stake. Determination helped push the agony and longing down to where it was bearable, at least for a little while longer.

Swiftly Gael neatened his hair and retied the ribbon, then retrieved his afternoon coat. Taking a long, deep breath, calling up one last picture of Noire to hold him strong, he stepped out of the sanctuary of his room and threw himself back into the reality he wanted desperately to avoid.

Striding through the halls, forcing himself to nod and smile, act civil, he slowly made his way to Etain’s suite. A footman told him they were in the sunroom and Gael thanked him, then took one more deep breath before he opened the door and stepped inside.

“Gael,” Freddie greeted with a tired but genuine smile. “You look as worn as I feel.”

“I would say the same of you, but I think your words make our mutual status clear,” Gael replied, crossing the room to kiss her cheek softly. If she’d expected a more intimate kiss, she gave no indication. “It is good to see you.” He stepped around the table to give Etain a kiss, resigned when she silently demanded more than a simple peck on the cheek. She tasted like honey and cinnamon, and Gael could not bear it. “Both of you,” he managed, and forced himself not to bolt for his own seat, but walk the three steps with complete normalcy. “I hope this is not one of the last pleasant luncheons we shall have.”

Freddie shrugged. “I would say not, but I am certain our ancestors said the very same words, or at least words very much like them.” She poked unenthusiastically at a tomato in her salad, looking much like a child who was sulking about a recently administered punishment. “I would like very much to be alive in six days, and I cannot fathom why we would hurt each other…”

“We will not,” Etain said, shaking head to emphasize the point, soft, pale hair shifting and waving with her movements. In the sunlight spilling down upon them, her wings were a shimmering rainbow, hair warm, pale gold. In a white morning gown trimmed with delicate pink lace, she was easily the most beautiful person in the palace.

Only, Gael could not help but think, because Noire was not here. “I certainly hope we are the ones to break the wretched tradition,” he said, contemplating his own salad with the same enthusiasm Freddie was showing hers. Food just did not appeal; it hadn’t since that wretched breakfast where his world had fallen apart.

Gael reminded himself not to show too much, not to care too much, as he voiced the question he’d been burning to ask since he arrived. “Freddie, I hear that messenger of yours has gone missing.”

Freddie’s face clouded. “Yes,” she said quietly. “We are searching day and night to find him, but so far we’ve had no luck. I cannot think why…” She shook her head and shrugged. “We will find him.”

“I hope you do,” Gael said, proud that his voice held steady. “He always seemed a good man.”

“He is,” Freddie said quietly. “The Silver Palace is not the same without him. Even those who always claimed to dislike him feel his absence, I think.” Freddie shrugged. “Thank you for asking.”

“Of course,” Gael replied. “How could I not? I do not like seeing my sisters unhappy, and I can see that on top of everything else, his absence wears on you.”

Freddie smiled and reached across the table to briefly grip his hand. “Thank you. Though on that note, you look equally worn, my darling brother.”

“The Ceremony wears me down,” Gael said. “Perhaps it is more strain than I can manage. We all know how quickly my patience wears out.” His sisters chuckled briefly – he was not as vocal as either of them, but more than a few had suggested his silent ways were far more intimidating to those who did not know him. “As you say, though, it will all be over and life much grander in six days. I refuse to believe for a moment that I could ever harm either one of you, and I know you would never harm me.”

Etain smiled fondly at them. “I want only what I have always wanted – for us to be together always. We are nothing without each other, no?”

“Precisely, love,” Freddie answered, leaning across the table to share a brief, soft kiss. Gael shoved away his own feelings on the matter, desperate not too appear to strange or off-character, and leaned across the table to bestow his own kiss to each sister.

Leaning back in his seat, he gave up on his salad and settled on the pale, pink wine that had been poured. For once he was grateful inebriation was impossible for him, as there was no telling what he would do or say if alcohol was able to affect him the way it did those around him. His sisters each had a white wine – their tastes in such matters had always differed from his own. “So everything is ready?”

“Yes,” Etain replied. “The room is perfect. We all know what we must do…there is nothing to do at this point but wait.”

Wait. Gael was sick of waiting. If he had to wait much longer to learn if he would live or die, or if living was worth it, he would lose what little of his mind remained. Still, there was hope. He had to keep telling himself that.

Mercifully, Freddie moved the conversation onward before his thoughts could overwhelm him. “What of the ball, Etain?” she asked.

“Everything is arranged,” Etain said. “When we emerge from the Ceremony chamber as all that we were ever meant to be, the celebratory ball will finally be held. It will be the most magnificent celebration the world has ever seen. I can most definitely promise you that.”

Gael dredged up a smile. “No one ever threw a ball better than you, my dear sister. Though we all know you do it just to order magnificent dresses to show off your splendid beauty.”

“I admit I like pretty things,” Etain said tolerantly of his teasing. “I have to keep up with you somehow, dear brother.”

“Ridiculous,” Gael replied, rolling his eyes at the old jest. “No one could compare to the two of you.” Except Noire, but he knew he was biased on that point. Rather, he knew one day when Noire was back in his arms and properly in his life, that everyone would think he was biased.

Etain suddenly pouted. “Neither of you is eating. Is the food not to your taste?”

“I’m not very hungry lately,” Freddie said. “Too much worrying and fretting and useless waiting. I am sorry, dearest.”

“The very same for me,” Gael said. “It looks and smells divine, but lately practically nothing settles on my stomach, and then only when I am feeling sick for lack of food. A few nibbles and I’m back to no appetite.” Also no sleep. He rather resented having to function at all.

He was also sick of being morose and gloomy all the time, but how anyone could expect him to be anything else under the circumstances was beyond him. He was a would-be god, in five days he would, hopefully, in fact be a god. So if he wanted to brood and sulk and scare footmen then he would.

“I think anxiety just makes me more ravenous,” Etain said, her own meal already gone and she on her third glass of wine.

Freddie chuckled. “That is probably because you eat like a bird on most days, dearest. If you stopped eating as we are, there would be nothing of you left. You need food to burn the anxiety off. Gael and I, we are burning away too many hours sitting behind a desk.”

Gael grunted in agreement.

Etain laughed and raised her wine glass. “To my beloved sister and brother, may we enjoy another such luncheon six days hence.”

“To that, I will most heartily drink,” Gael replied, and raised his glass to clink with theirs, then downed his wine in one quick swallow.

Freddie did the same, then set the glass down with a hard thunk on the table. “If you will both pardon me, I believe I am going to go steal away for a short nap before this evening. All the Beasts will be arriving…” A guaranteed headache, sadly, as many of them did not get along and the others seemed often to squabble just because they apparently had nothing better to do.

“I will walk you to your room,” Gael said, standing as Freddie did. Giving Etain a parting kiss, keeping it to a brief peck despite her pout, and then gave his arm to Freddie.

“You really do look strained, Gael,” Freddie said softly, leaning her head against his shoulder. She was just as beautiful as Etain, strong where Etain was delicate. She smelled like citrus, bright and fresh. “Are you certain nothing more than the Ceremony troubles you?”

Gael had to bite his tongue to avoid confessing all to his sister. He wanted so badly to ask for her help, to tell her the real reason Noire was missing. Freddie was so steady and sure in the places where he faltered, blazing through any problem as fearlessly as she soared high into the sky to reach the Cliffs that were as precious and revitalizing to her as the Spring was to him. “It is merely the Ceremony,” he finally managed. “I want so badly for it to go as it should, but with so many failures weighing down upon us…”

Freddie lifted her head to smile fondly at him. “You always did worry too much, Gael. Perhaps that makes up for my tendency to push on regardless, for Etain’s tendency to downplay everything. We are making ourselves sick with worry. I hardly sleep anymore, and when I do dreams…” She shook her head. “They make no sense to me, and so I shall not trouble you with them.”

“Helping you, if only by listening, would hardly trouble me, Freddie.” They reached her room and paused outside it.

“I scarcely remember them,” Freddie said with a sigh and shrug. “I know I only wake up feeling incredibly sad, as if some vital part of me has been torn away. Even now, I feel the lingering ache of it. Silly, yes? All that I want and need is here in this palace.”

Gael kissed her cheek, squeezed her hand as her arm slid free of his. “Perhaps it will all make sense in a few days. But if you find yourself awake at odd hours, my dear, seek me out – I gave up sleeping days ago.”

“I will do that. Thank you, Gael.” With a last smile, Freddie turned and vanished into her room.

Like something vital had been torn away. That described exactly how he felt when Noire was not with him – now that Noire was vanished. Peculiar that Freddie would describe just such a feeling…his mind flitted briefly to Verenne, whom Freddie has not so long ago claimed to love.

Except she swore now that she loved Etain, as well as himself…

Shaking his head, too weary to puzzle out the meaning of his sister’s unknown dreams, Gael turned and slowly made his way back to his own rooms.

Comments

[chris-king-2005.livejournal.com]

*fangirling madly*

Oh, wow. This just keeps getting better and better!

[wobblygoblin.livejournal.com]

Like I said: Permanently stuck this way. D: D: D:

Also, re: Etain. BITCH. Like, no sympathy for the devil. At all. Death by many pointy things.

[unusualmusic.livejournal.com]

Etain really should have learned that love cannot be forced. And she needs to understand that the monumental selfishness that she displays needs to stop. Not only is it affecting her own country, but it blew to heck the peace and prosperity of her fellow countries, who had nothing to do with her nonsense. When she is finally brought to that realization, one hopes that a lot of atoning results.

[avalon13.livejournal.com]

Etain, oh, Etain. You anorexic cow. I hope when you sleep you dream of a thousand fangirls calling for your slow, painful death. and that when you wake, it is to he news that Gael and Freddie have taken their lovers and fled to Ethiopia because living in abject poverty is better than looking at your skinny ass. BITCH.

[captainschlumpy.livejournal.com]

I am biting my nails over this one! *worry, worry*
Great installment! I can not wait to see what happens.

[bare-bear.livejournal.com]

I'm so anxious to find out how this resolves itself. It seems like it's all going down the pooper, right now. :(

It's amazing how you are so original with your stories. I've read a lot of fiction the last few years, and usually you can pretty accurately predict what will happen in most of them. Your stories, I rarely can. I mean, I'm pretty sure things will work out and they will assend to godliness and all, but I have no clue how this will happen. Good job!

[rotewolken.livejournal.com]

I second that!

[mechante-fille.livejournal.com]

Oh, Noire!! You are smart, and have it almost figured out, probably. Not that figuring it out is helpful in your tiny box. (still imagines Noire is tiny-sized. Etain may have even had tiny!Noire in his box in the room during lunch.)

As I think we kind of need Etain for everyone else to live, I hope she snaps out of her crazy soon. I worry about that whole 'poison' thing, too. And wonder if the tea-making will fit in with that.

Hm... Freddie. I wonder if she was hypnotized, or just threatened. She sounds so sincere when she pledges herself to Etain, and honestly confused about what is missing. Hm, hm, hm.

Can't wait for more!!!

[marasmine.livejournal.com]

I want more but I'm afraid to read it when you do post! Just in case something bad has happened to anyone but Etain! I think Verde needs four Guardians and no Queen! The tension building for the Ceremony is much too effective I think I am going to crack before then, never mind Gael and Freddie wondering if they'll make it!

[didarina.livejournal.com]

6 days left... this is killing me. Love Noire/Gael angsting.
My inner fangirl has been kicked into squee mode.

x

[jladi.livejournal.com]

Even with the awful secrecy Gail insisted upon, thinking of the beautiful Unicorn as his lover made him want to never stop smiling.

Gael's name is mispelled there...

I agree with everyone else, that Etain is horrible! But a thought just occurred to me... could it be that the jewels that Ailil was sent to collect were all gifts that Gael had once given to Noire, or Freddie had given to Verenne? Maybe the way to avoid the conflict would be to just confront each other, and have Freddie and Gael tell their true feelings! Oh, i can't wait! And i just can't see how Etain will ever make a proper and good Fairie Queen.