Elizabeth Haydon - Destiny - Child of the Sky

Gwydion nodded numbly. She knew how long he had waited to set things right, how much he wanted their life back, but until she could answer one last question that was not possible. She closed her eyes and thought back to the words she had struggled so hard to drive from her mind.

Don’t be jealous, Rhapsody; the Rakshas liked it so much better with you than with your sister. What, you didn’t know? Well, I’m not surprised. They did look identical, your two lovers. How fortunate for me that you fell in love with the son of Llauron; it made it so much easier for the Rakshas to have you. You don’t think it was always Gwydion who took you, did you? Once your sister told my creation about the two of you, it was easy. It is, after all, very dark in the Teeth at night, isn’t it, my dear?

Rhapsody grew pale and began to tremble, and the fear in her eyes went straight to Gwydion’s heart. “Just ask, Emily; whatever it is, I swear to you, I will tell you the truth.”

“I know you will,” she said, trying to remain calm. “All right. Do you remember the night in the Cauldron when I told you about Jo and the Rakshas?”

Gwydion shuddered. “How could I forget? Yes, unfortunately.”

“Tell me what happened after you left the Cauldron.”

He looked confused. “After I left? How would I know?”

Desperation came into Rhapsody’s eyes. “I don’t mean in the Cauldron, what happened to you?”

“I went off, at our mutual instigation, and left for the coast. Is this about my not being there for you when you were hurt, Aria?”

“No,” she said, beginning to shake. “Please, stay focused. Exactly what happened that night. You’re a dragon; I want a reasonable level of detail.”

“I walked across the barricades and out into the Teeth, and made my way up the crag face to the steppes. I got past the rock ridge and was on my way down the slope when I heard you calling me; I thought it was the wind.”

“And what did you do?”

“I came back and found you in the sheltered arch, wearing next to nothing—we have to talk about this little proclivity of yours, by the way. I love the idea of you naked or next to it, but not outside in winter.”

Rhapsody almost assaulted him. “Keep going!”

Ashe shrugged. “You had come crawling out in the dark to make me swear I would not track the Rakshas, and, against my better judgment, I agreed. And then we made love; it was not the way I wished it could have been, sort of helpless and desperate, and I feared through it all I was hurting you, but I couldn’t stop myself; we were both in so much pain that I—” His voice came to a grinding halt as relief broke over her face and she began to weep aloud with joy. “What? Now I’m really confused.”

Rhapsody continued to sob, but now her weeping was mixed with glorious laughter. As if shattered, the pain that had gripped her abdomen unclenched, and she threw her arms around Gwydion, startling and delighting him at the same time.

“All right,” he said as he pulled her closer. “I don’t understand this, but I can get used to it.”

Rhapsody dried her eyes on the sleeves of his shirt. “No, don’t do that,” she said, wiping the tears away and breaking into a smile. “I don’t ever want to be this relieved again as long as I live, because I never want to be that frightened again.”

Gwydion caressed her cheek. “Can you tell me about it?”

Rhapsody nodded as she reached into the pocket of his cloak for his handkerchief. Gwydion smiled and sighed in relief himself at the gesture; the old Rhapsody was coming back. After she blew her nose she told him the details of the intervening time, and what had happened with the demon. He blanched when he learned the extent of the pain she had been carrying around; he knew even his own agony at the loss of the piece of his soul could barely match the fear she must have felt. He pulled her into his arms again.

“Gods, Aria, why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t you let me see you? I would have told you that it was me that night in the Teeth, and you wouldn’t have had to suffer like this.”

“Well, obviously because your answer could have been different,” Rhapsody answered calmly. “And if what the demon said had turned out to be true, I would have broken down; I never would have been able to get through this blasted Council.”

“You carried this fear for the sake of the Cymrians?” Gwydion asked incredulously. “They certainly don’t deserve it.”

“Be that as it may, for the sake of everyone who shares the world with them, they needed to be called and united. Speaking of which, I have a bone to pick with you.”

“Oh?” His eyes twinkled. “I’m all yours. My attention, as well as the rest.”

She looked at him seriously. “What did you think you were doing, naming me Lady of that Council? Are you insane?”

“Why?”

“We have been having this discussion since the first night we, well, since our first night as lovers,” she said. “You know my rank; why did you put me in this position? I don’t want to be Lady Cymrian. You know my birth status. I’m not qualified.”

Gwydion laughed. “Obviously the Council doesn’t agree with you, since you were elected unanimously. Must be nice; they argued about my suitability for hours.” Rhapsody’s face grew hot and she looked down into her lap. Ashe stopped laughing and took her hands. “Rhapsody, I’ve been trying to tell you all along, there is no one who could make even as good a leader for these people as you; certainly there is no one better.”

“That’s a sad statement.”

“Beware,” Gwydion said seriously. “You are talking about my Lady, as well as the woman I love. Didn’t you once tell me that we had a responsibility to help in whatever way we could? Who but you could have calmed that rabble, got them to talk to each other civilly for the first time in centuries, perhaps ever? The members of the First and Third Fleets were hanging on each other like old friends, toasting your health and reign mutually. Can you fathom the significance of that? Who but you could silence Anwyn, could banish her back to where she belongs, without a hint of rancor, then sing a tribute to her? Could make her cry for love of you?”

“I seriously doubt that Anwyn would agree with your assessment of her feelings.”

He took her face in his hands and regarded her seriously. “Who would have carried the hideous belief that you have, a possibility you would have died because of, in order to make it through for people to whom you felt an obligation, even though you had no vested interest in power over them? Gods, Aria, if that doesn’t prove your worthiness, I don’t know what could.

-

I did not make you my wife so that you would be the Lady Cymrian, nor did I make you the Lady Cymrian so that you would be my wife. I did it because, for each of the roles, there is no other possible candidate; none whatsoever. And I am here to help you. I will handle, at least initially, while teaching you about, the annual fisherman’s catch rights, and planting cycles, and taxation rates on oxen in the Orlandan provinces, and armament procurements—”

Rhapsody sighed comically. “I can’t wait. I don’t already have enough of that nonsense in Tyrian.”

His face became solemn. “Rhapsody, are you going to forgive me? Can you find it in your heart to take me back? Neither of us could foresee what would happen since the night we married; I knew you would face terrible pain, but I had no idea how much. Do you still love me?”

She sighed. “Yes. Always.”

“And is that enough for you?”

She regarded him seriously. The pain had been excoriating, the lies had almost destroyed them both. But the lies had not been theirs, and now they were the leaders, the ones to decide how the power would be used. The memory of their wedding came flooding back unbidden, the incredible happiness she had felt and seen in his eyes as they promised themselves to one another; the tenderness of their lovemaking as their souls touched and were joined completely in the total knowledge of who they were; the giddiness of unabashed laughter beneath the covers, sharing secrets and plans that night; the hopes they told each other of. It had been her first taste of true and utter joy, and that realization brought back another voice of wisdom to her. She could see the smile on the face of the Patriarch in her memory.