I Take Thee

Chapter Two

A human bride for a Fae King. Two entirely different beings, trapped in wedlock until an heir was born. It was a horror disguised as a fairytale.

The fae were and always would be the monsters of my waking nightmares. What was worse was that they weren’t simply folklore, they were living breathing creatures made from cruelty and bound to trickery. They were the warnings our nursemaids and mothers told us about, so we’d behave ourselves. The village of Hallow had always been protected by my family, by our Fairspen ancestors and whilst we delighted in wicked tales of nyxies drowning maidens in the local lakes and goblins bewitching children with faerie fruit, the Fairspens had always protected their own. Humans living in a world of tumultuous peace.

Thus, I hadn’t spoken to my father for a week. When Marie came scuffling reluctantly to my door, I told her to tell his lordship to take a long walk off a short pier. Despite my childish protest however, the preparations for my departure continued around me. Marie and Tabatha continued to pack up what little things I did own, along with some of my mothers’ best dresses that had been kept for me. It was a wonder that the moths hadn’t devoured them, but Tabatha insisted that my mother, the real lady of the house had her dresses gifted to her by a fae prince, enamoured by her beauty. I would sooner believe that the old crone that was my mother’s ladies’ maid was a swamp witch than that my mother’s undergarments were blessed by magic! Then again, here I was being offered up to the King of the Faeries as tribute for his bride. That is if he picked me. Now that would be a miracle.

I supposed that once I graced the ballroom of his highness, he would take one look at me and send me right back here. So really, I should have cut my father some slack. If he was coming with me then perhaps, I could have… however, I could not. He was to remain here in the comfort of Hallow while I made my way to the capital and into the marriage bed of a King in order to save us from poverty. Seemed fair. Whilst being married off was one thing, submitting me to the humiliation of attending the capital with all its airs and graces I could not forgive. I was going to look a fool, a fool with a good name and a pocket full of loose change.

I lay on my bed staring up at the ceiling, the ever-growing crack in the plaster extending across from the chandelier. One day it would fall and impale me to the bed, maybe that day would be today? ‘Sorry your highness, but my daughter was impaled on her chandelier, my deepest apologies’ I imagined my father explaining to the wicked faerie King. Maybe he would laugh and the whole thing would just be an amusing anecdote at future balls. If only…

King Kairen, the royal heir of the legendary line of fae that hailed from King Aelfdane. They were ruling the realm centuries before the first humans ever settled here in Aelfhelm. Even the illegitimate offspring of Aelfdane were ruling the North, South and Westlands of Aelfhelm, kingdoms in their own rights. Not that I had ever seen them of course, but I imagined they were just as ruthless and cunning as their half-brother the King. I suppose I should remember their names at least, especially if I am to meet them at this farce. Reluctantly, I rolled off my bed, the metal frame creaking in protest and slunk down to my knees by the stack of books that hadn’t quite made it onto my dresser.

Nope, not this… I must finish reading that… there it was. Underneath a pile of romances and adventures lay a fat tome I must have meant to study at one point, in gold lettering it read: The history of Aelfhelm and its people, volume one. Flipping to the page that beheld a map drawn up at least a hundred odd years ago, I folded down the corners edge as a page marker. I would come back to that later, for now I needed the family tree of the fae royal family, though I wondered if illegitimate children seldom made the history books? After boring myself to death with several human royal lines, ones that had died out centuries ago I managed to find the one I was searching for. There they were the names of the three fae rulers of the land I called home.

The North

‘The North of Aelfhelm is ruled by Aelfdane’s sire by the Lady Maeve, third mistress of the king, Lord Elias. Originally the court travelled between the City of Snowport and the mountain keep of Callismoor, but in later years Snowport has been his official residence. Lord Elias is known to rule a court of unseelie creatures, most notably he does not have patience for humans and will not deign to receive them in his realm.’ Pleasant. I stare at the sketch of Lord Elias, his presence foreboding and as cold as the north itself. Sharp angular features, the long white hair of his mother the lady Maeve, eyes as black as coal. I shuddered.

The South

‘The South of Aelfhelm is ruled by Aelfdane’s sire by the Lady Ileana, second mistress of the king, Lord Laurel. The court of lord Laurel is located in the farthest city of the south, Sommerbarrow. The South is known to have the greatest relationship with the capital of Aelfhelm and hosts a midsummer ball each year for the participating royals, fae and human alike.’ I smile softly at the sketch of Laurel; he was what a faerie king ought to be. He had a kind face and had a fondness for charity, though he also was known for the harmless tricks he would pull on his guests. His head was full of curls, pointed ears peeping out from underneath, the book had depicted him to be cherub like with a childlike grin.

The Westlands

‘The West has since been renamed to the Westlands and is ruled by Aelfdane’s first born sire by Lady Gwyndoline, first official mistress of the king, Prince Rhydien. It is noted that Prince Rhydien is the only one of King Aelfdane’s pure fae sires to be recognised as a prince.’ Typical… clearly someone is bitter I thought to myself as I read about the Westlands. Though there wasn’t as much information as I had hoped for. I turned the page expecting another portrait of this so called prince and was left disappointed. Apparently the author hadn’t been given permission to get the Prince’s likeness.

‘My lady?’ A voice interrupted from behind the door.

‘What is it?’

‘The carriage is ready for you’.

I pause, evidentially I was packing light then as it hadn’t taken as long as I would have hoped. I closed the book, dust puffing out of the pages like smoke.

‘May I enter my lady?’ Marie prompted.

I debated saying no but it would have been futile. Heaving a heavy sigh, I ran my hand over the leather-bound book and found myself tossing it into my satchel.

‘You May’

Upon being primped and preened within an inch of my life, Marie finally found it acceptable to let me out into the world. As I pass the mirror, I steal a quick glance. Imposter. She looks more like the lady in the portrait, except she’s frowning. I feel ridiculous. It’s been years since father asked me to wear a dress, and whilst the concept wasn’t foreign to me, it wasn’t comfortable either. Dressed head to toe in a sage green gown, the satin constricting me across my waist, the skirts grazing the floor, long sleeves billowing around my wrists, I was a joke. Admittedly Marie had done a wonderful job of styling my hair with my mother's jade hair combs, they swept my hair off my face, a few tendrils of curls escaping to frame my face perfectly. This was what I should have been, had my mother lived. It was a cruel trick to look in the mirror a second longer.

‘Thank you, Marie,’ I said icily, but she had already scurried off leaving me alone with my reflection. I took the opportunity to tuck my pocketknife carefully into my corset, luckily there was enough room to do so. How piteous a creature I felt, naked under the yards of silk, unprotected despite the blade against my chest. Unwillingly setting off to unknown territory. At the end of the hall, I turned back to my bedroom, the door ajar beckoning me back, urging me not to step one foot outside. Although I knew the King of Aelfhelm wouldn’t choose me, I had the impending feeling that this would be the last time I saw my bedroom, that I had my last night without acknowledging it was the last time…

‘My, my, don’t we scrub up well Lady Fairspen’ Dion teased, my thoughts so consuming, I hadn’t noticed my legs carrying me downstairs and out into the courtyard. I scowled at him, his handsome stature leaning casually against the family carriage. I didn’t fail to notice the family crest had been gilded with fresh gold paint. ‘Bound by the blood of all that is fair’ a once noble motto for a Fairspen, now it was a chivalrous fantasy. The paintwork was not all that had been spruced up, the wheels had been repaired and a new set of velvet curtains graced the windows. At what expense had my father gone to? It was a waste of money! I hadn’t ridden in a coach since I was ten!

‘I could have just ridden’ I grumbled.

‘On horseback milady?’ Dion grinned, knowing full well a lady did not journey on horseback for such a long period of time.

‘No, on the back of a kelpie,’ I rolled my eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm. He was clearly enjoying my discomfort here. At least riding a murderous water horse would be somewhat interesting compared to the carriage ride that awaited my poor behind.

‘Now that, I would pay to see’ he laughed.

At the sound of my dearest friends laugh, I couldn’t help but smile. Dion had been there when my father had been at the bottom of a bottle. My friend, playmate and protector.

Employed originally as another stable hand, his father had been a soldier for the royal army and was part of the Fairspen guard. But to me, Dion was my friend and trainer. As children, we had swung around wooden sticks as swords, going on adventures and defeating river trolls (which had in fact been just a large rock we climbed on down by the river) and of course saving the manor from an evasion of hobgoblins. Eventually his father gave in and let us train beside him, I suspect he was fed up with the shenanigans we wreaked upon the other servants of Hallow Hall. How I wish he was here now… but Mathias had fallen ill five summers past, and it fell to Dion to take up his sword.

They had the same hazel brown eyes, same full lips and whilst his fathers skin had been marred with various cuts and scars, Dion’s skin remained unblemished, black and beautiful, a blank canvas in the eyes of battle. He kept his hair cropped, the dark curls neatly clung to his head, no sign of his father having ruffled it in years. Under all his charm and taunts and childlike mischief, I could see the absence of Mathias in the way he treasured his fathers sword. Even now, he had it strapped upon his back, the old leather scabbard at home against his new set of leathers he wore as an official Fairspen guard. Another small fortune my father must have spent for us to look the part.

‘Shall we milady?’ He croons, offering his gauntlet clad arm as an aid into the carriage.

‘Where is my father?’

Suddenly his absence is felt as I step up onto the platform.

‘Milady’ Marie pipes up from behind ‘I believe he has already left…’

‘No, I am right here!’ My father interrupts, his figure hobbling out of the main doors of the manor. Marie flashed red, embarrassed by her misinformation. She bobs a curtsy and finds something to do with the luggage, scolding the footman for not tying something properly. I notice Dion’s lips tug slightly from the corner of my eye. Though he stands at attention like a soldier, his composure left little to be desired.

‘Daughter, I… You look’ he swallows, he must be seeing the same portrait of my mother as he stands before me.

‘Thank you’ I curtsy in mock jest, but mainly so he can hold back the sobbing before it sets me off too.

‘Here, I was saving this for you till I thought you may need it’

He produces a small book from his coat pocket, the cover no bigger than my hand.

‘Your mother asked me to give this to you when the time came, unfortunately she was never clear on when exactly that was’ he chuckled, a memory clearly caught in his throat. It didn’t surprise me though, it was the kind of thing she would do.

‘Now seems like the right time’ he finished, handing me the gift.

I flipped open the first page and tried to hold back the tears welling in my eyes as I read the handwritten message, the looping scrawl of ink undeniably my mothers.

Dearest Aeryn,

I gift you with this book, inside it may give you the answers you seek and much more. I love you with my entire heart and hope one day you can forgive me for parting from you so soon. Take care my daughter and remember, bound by the blood of all that is fair.

Love your mother, Theodora Fairspen.