Forbidden Sea: the Fae Princess and her Cursed Love

Chapter 3: Aisling

I wake early, sleeping just a few short hours, and quietly tie on my thick boots. Standing carefully, I grab my malataistil and make my way out of the cabin into the deep chill of the early morning air. I saddle and mount the horse Padraig insisted that I take last night and begin the dreaded ride to the docks to await the ship that will take me to Bernthal. As the mare makes her way closer to the ocean, the calm I feel from the waves is overwhelming and the necklace that Orla placed around my neck begins to feel soothingly warm. I close my eyes and bask in the feeling, assuming the necklace must be warming from the heat of my body as I draw nearer to my truest power source. When the horse slows at the end of the dock, I take two long, steadying breaths, then dismount and wait for my brothers as I had promised.

The sun rises farther, only slightly warming the air, and I finally see all four of my brothers nearing the docks over the snow covered hills. I wave towards them, heart heavy with the sadness of the interaction to come.

“Liam, Ciann,” I say with half-hearted excitement, letting them wrap me in a hug so tight I feel that my ribs may crack.

“Aisling, it is not too late to take Ronan and Finn’s offer.” Ciann, the second born, says, pulling back from me to look into my eyes.

I see worry lingering in his and Liam’s deep brown eyes and I cast my gaze to the sleet on the wood of the docks to keep myself from crying.

“You know that is not an option Ciann.” I whisper, glancing at Finn and Ronan, who nod knowingly.

“Ais,” Liam whines, “our father is going to find a way to ensure that you fail either way.”

“Liam, if I run from the King’s assignment I will only prove to him that I am as weak and unworthy as he wants me to be. The only way to prove to both him and myself that I am capable of being what I have worked my whole life to be is to follow through.” I remind him, as I glance around me to ensure that no one is listening.

“I will prove my title is deserved and I will not let our father break me further than he already has by hiding my lineage and casting me away.” I say with determined defiance in my voice.

Ciann, Liam, Ronan, and Finn all look at me with broken, pained expressions.

“She is strong,” Finn steps in to say, “if fulfilling this mission will bring her peace with herself, that is what must happen.”

“T-thank you.” I stutter out, through held back tears of both love and despair.

Then men on the ship I will be riding begin to file onto the docks to ready the ship for the journey. I look at my brothers and pull them into a hug, knowing that this very well may be the last time that I see them.

“If I am not back before your coronation,” I say quietly to Finn, “be a kind just king for me.”

Finn smiles sadly, knowing his coronation is years away but, with the fighting in Bernthal, it is likely that I may not make it back to see that day.

“I will.” He says, with glistening tears filling his amber-colored eyes.

As I make my way onto the ship, my brothers stand watching and waving until I disappear onto the deck of the vessel. When turn from them and make my first steps towards the helm of the ship, I am met with the first of many feelings of fear I know will come on this journey. I look around to see fifteen or so large, burly men staring at me with hatred and malice in their eyes and I hear heavy stomping boots begin to make their way down from the helm and directly towards me. When I turn to see who the leadened footsteps belong to, I am met with a hard, leather bound chest. I take a step back, clutching the straps of my malataistil tighter, and look up to face the man that looms over me, looking me over like I am a prize fish at summer market. I meet his cold glare and notice the large scar running from the edge of his unruly auburn brown hair down to the very corner of his thin lips. My eyes widen and I force myself to control my expression.

Clearing my throat and caging my emotions, I reach my hand out and say, “I am Aisling Steil, Crown Warrior of the Tirnan Fae Clan. I will be leading the troops stationed on the shores of Bernthal.”

“I know.” The callous man says, oozing with vile hate and self righteousness.

“Who might you be, sir?” I say, keeping the trembling in my voice and hands to a minimum.

“I am the captain of this ship, Bran Fieran.” He snaps, leaning down to look at me directly in my eyes. “Just because the King calls you Crown Warrior, doesn’t mean that you will lead us.”

Spit hits my face as he speaks, making me want to take another step away from him, but instead I stand as tall as I can and stare back at him with determination and building anger.

“I am here on assignment just as you are. As Crown Warrior my assignment is to lead you and the rest of the troops as I see fit to help us win this battle. Now, Bran, I can find a different captain for this ship if you wish to join troops out of my lead, but decide quickly because we must pull out soon.” I counter, never letting my eyes leave his or show the fear I have swelling inside of me.The men on the ship stop what they are doing to watch what happens next, some with changing reverence towards me and some with deepening contempt. Bran chuckles darkly, turning away from me.

“Whatever you say, Crown Warrior Steil.” He spats, letting the satire and loathing coat his words thoroughly.

After he returns to the wheel, I feel the ship begin to make its way into the water and farther and farther from Meridath. I make my way to the edge of the ship and watch as the island fades from view. I close my eyes, letting the chill of the winter air and the smell of the salt rising from the sea calm the fear that I let build inside me. As I meditate and cool the storm of emotions in me, I hear footsteps approaching me from behind. I jump and turn around quickly to see a burly looking man who I have seemed to startle.

“Sorry Steil,” he says, throwing his hands up in defense, “I didn’t mean ta sneak up on ya.”

“No it’s not your fault, I was preoccupied by my thoughts.” I say, laughing at myself for letting my guard down.

“Oh,” he sighs, “I’m Fergus Callahan, I came ta show you to yer bunker. I saw whatcha did with Bran back there, big bravery from sucha young lass.”

I smile graciously at him. “Just trying to make sure everyone knows their place, Fergus. I can’t risk failing in any way on my first mission.” I mutter.

“Aye,” Fergus grimaces, “sendin’ ya ta Bernthal on yer first assignment is a nasty disgrace.”

“I will make sure that I serve, no matter where I am, to the fullest extent of my ability.” I say, trying to muster up some confidence.

“Aye Steil,” he replies, leading me into the bunker “yer goin ta do fine, kid. Just keep yer eyes out fer those who’ve turned on us, they’ll do ev’rthin in their power to end the fightin, don’t care who wins ner loses. Don’t tell no one I be tellin’ ya that.”

“Thank you, Fergus.” I say gratefully, as I begin to unpack my things and settle into my bunk for the week’s journey ahead of us.