by C. E. Olson
Something changes in his brother, and aside from the fear seeping from his pores, he looks determined. “I’m not a devout man. I don’t have faith in most of the world... but I have faith in you.”
Aine hugs him so tightly she feels larger than she is. “I won’t stay back this time. Please let me be by your side.”
“Of course. Keep Trystrel close to you just in case. Laix?” Varis shifts, wanting to let the love of Reeve’s life have a say in this, too. “What do you think?”
“I think there’s no other choice, and I’m sorry that it’s fallen on you. I know you feel the burden because of your actions, but you were just doing a job. You shouldn’t shoulder this. But you aren’t alone. We will all be there behind you.”
He nods, kissing Aine’s temple. “Alright then. It's settled. I'll go talk to the King.”
Walking away is harder than he thought, but he only makes it halfway to Balian’s tent before his henchmen snatch him and drag him there, anyway. Varis tries and fails to explain that he’ll go on his own, and when he's dumped unceremoniously in front of Balian, he realizes that his compliance doesn't matter much.
“Varis Kester, you have be—”
“I'll do it,” Varis interrupts. “I overheard the offer. I'll do it... but I have some conditions.”
Balian leans forward with a sneer. “You don't get to make conditions.”
“I do. You don't want to be known as the king who let his people down, do you? I can either fight for you and Ostusen the way you trained me, win, and ensure that your name has a place in our history for generations to come... or, I can go out there and let him kill me. What an embarrassment that would be,” Varis says slowly. “It's your choice.”
“You wouldn't,” he mutters.
“Wouldn't I? If it means saving the people I love, I would. I'd do anything for them, including letting my opponent take me out. I'm not asking for much. If I win, you swear you’ll leave Aine and the Sun Court alone. You release me of my oath to you, and Reeve and Laix are both pardoned for whatever crimes you think they've committed. We’re allowed to walk out of here unscathed and live out our lives as we see fit.”
The King grinds his teeth in an almost animalistic way, but he knows he doesn't have a choice. He values glory more than anything else despite his penchant for hiding when there's glory to be had, and this is no exception. “Fine! You win, you all go free. I'd rather not look at your face every day for the rest of my life, anyway. But if you lose....”
Varis doesn't need him to finish that sentence. The threat the King levels against the people he's working so hard to protect goes without saying, and yet, hearing what Balian will do to them if he fails makes him clench his fists. He’s taking quite a gamble agreeing to this fight, but when he steps back to look at the larger picture, he knows there isn't another option. He wins, and everyone he loves gets to go home. He loses, and it won't be his problem anymore. “Deal. When?”
“Right now. They requested the duel to take place when the moon is highest in the sky. You've got ten minutes to prepare.”
His eyes widen. “Oh. Why put off till tomorrow what you can do right now with no preparation? Brilliant strategy. Do you know who my opponent is?”
“Rakan.”
The name sounds familiar, but he's unable to put a face to it, so Varis simply shrugs it off and leaves the tent without bowing. One way or the other, his relationship with Ostusen’s monarch is through, and Varis can't help the smile that spreads across his face as he rejoins the others. “I don't have much time, but he accepted my terms. If I do this, we’re all free. The Sun Court won't be in danger, either.”
Aine wraps her arms around his shoulders and buries her face into his neck. “You’ve saved so many lives today.”
He doesn't know whether to feel good or bad about her being right. Win or lose, just agreeing to this is saving lives. “I'm glad you're looking at the silver lining in the clouds. Must be the Sun Court in you.”
“I’d rather have more of the Fae Hammer in me,” Aine jokes, but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “It’s just another Fae in your way. One last Fae and you’re done.”
“She’s not wrong.” Reeve pulls him away from Aine for a tight hug. “Hammer the bastard. You’ve got this.”
“Did you use my two least favorite nicknames as a pun on purpose?” he asks, pulling back from the hug to get a good look at his brother's face. “That's low, Reevus. Even for you.”
“You better not die. If one of the last things I hear from your damned mouth is ‘Reevus,’ I’ll follow you into the afterlife and kick your arse.”
Rolling their eyes, Laix hugs him as well and lets Aine jump back into his arms. “He chose the moonlight because he thinks he’ll have the advantage. Use it against him if you can.”
“What do I know of the moon?” Varis says softly. “My heart belongs to the sun.”
He can feel her smile into his neck as her grip tightens. “I love you, too.”
Varis pulls back and gently hands Aine over to Reeve, taking one last moment to study the three of them just like this. Smiling, hopeful, trusting. Hiding the fear he knows they all feel. He takes a small amount of comfort in the fact that Reeve and Aine have both threatened to follow him into the afterlife now if he dies, and if anyone in the realms is capable of such a thing, they are. “Take care of each other. I'll be back as soon as I can.”
THIS IS THE LAST DAY I'll ever be the Fae Hammer. No matter what, this ends today. Varis Kester, Fae Hammer of Ostusen, is walking into this pit — and never coming back out. He lets out a slow breath as he finishes cleaning his sword and makes his way into the chosen arena. Reeve, Laix, and Aine are nowhere to be found, but he prefers it that way, at least for now. Echo skirts in and out of the crowd around them and brings him a small level of comfort, which he reminds himself to thank the shadow cat for if he survives this. Trys is gone, too. “If you can hear me, Trys... if I lose, get them out of here. All of them.”
“Don't lose.”
He smiles to himself as he ditches his armor. Logistically, he knows it doesn't slow him down or make it any harder to move, it's just cumbersome. Dying in a metal tomb doesn't sound appealing, and he wants to be free. Unless it kills me.
When the opposing army begins to cheer and stomp their feet, Varis shoves aside thoughts of freedom and armor, and instead scans the crowd for any sign of the last Fae he’ll ever fight. Part of him assumes the worst, which helps prepare him for when the worst actually happens — Rakan comes into view and recognition slams through Varis' system. He's not just any Fae soldier. He’s the soldier that drove a sword through his back.
“That's my axe,” Varis says by way of greeting. “I appreciate you bringing it for me, I feel a little naked without it.”
Rakan smirks. “Oh, you'll get it back... when I bury it in your chest.”
As the announcement is made regarding rules and their purpose here, Varis starts to pace. Seeing how cocky Rakan is brings him comfort — the more confident he is, the more likely he is to make a mistake. “I'd like to see you try. Really. Go ahead.”
Varis spreads his arms in invitation as the horns blow to signal the start, and Rakan doesn't waste time. He sends a blast of power at Varis that smacks him in the gut and sends him flying back, startling him. The blows he's used to absorbing aren't this strong. “Hells,” he coughs out, but he stays on the ground instead of getting up, knowing he needs to draw Rakan closer.
“Giving up already?” the Fae asks in a disapproving tone. “I thought you'd be a little harder to kill after the show you put on with our late King. I see I was wrong. How utterly disappointing.”
Rakan bends over him to see if he's still alive, and Varis makes his move. He rolls violently fast to knock Rakan over, and the moment he hears his axe thud against the dirt, he scrambles to grab it and leave the sword behind.
“Not as graceful as I'd have liked, but effective nonetheless,” Varis says breathlessly, and hope surges through him as
his fist flexes around the handle of his beloved weapon. “Good thing I'm not here to put on a show. Get up.”
“Of course you are,” Rakan counters as he gets to his feet. “Our bards will sing of the day I killed the Fae Hammer for longer than your human mind can comprehend. If this isn't a show, I don't know what is.”
“Ahh. Explains why I don't care for it,” Varis quips as he stalks forward and twirls his axe. “I’ve always preferred musicals.”
The clang of his axe clashing with the sword he'd discarded sounds a little like music to his ears, and Rakan goes on the defensive instead of responding. He blocks Varis’ attack and sends another ball of sheer power toward him with his free hand, causing Varis to throw himself to the side to avoid it this time. There's no pause before Rakan is on him again, driving him back and striking over and over until Varis’ arm feels like molten lead. Even with his axe, he's outmatched, and fear creeps in for the first time. He's killed me once and he's about to do it again... and maybe I should let him.
Each strike brings a memory to the surface of Varis’ tired mind. The night Reeve snuck into the castle to see him the first time. The feeling that spread through his system when Aine told him they were mates. The look on his father’s face when he gave him up. Over and over, flashes of those he loves steady his resolve until he's sure that his attachments aren't burdens at all, but gifts. Things to be cherished and fought for.
But it's clear to Varis that he won't win this based on brute strength. Rakan has at least a couple of inches and thirty pounds on him, and this is far from Varis’ preferred style of combat. The only real course of action he sees isn't ideal, but if he pulls it off and can get to Aine quickly enough after... it'll all be over. Oh, fuck. I'm the dumbest person I've ever met.
Bracing himself, Varis sets out to piss him off. “You're really the best they had?” he goads breathlessly, blocking a blow that would’ve ended him for sure. “You've already failed once, why'd they give you a second chance? You bend over for your King? Or maybe it's the King that bent over for you.”
The hypocrisy of that statement is lost on Rakan, but the rage it induces is not. The Fair Folk are proud — the insult to the King does exactly what he intended it to, and Varis sends a silent prayer to any god that will listen to stay with him in the coming minutes. He dodges, parries, thrusts... and when the time comes, Varis allows his axe to just miss blocking the tip of the sword as Rakan drives it into Varis’ body.
He sputters, coughing and wrapping a hand around the blade to stop it from being driven deeper at all costs, and falls willingly to the ground not far from the stone barrier between them and the crowd. Rakan cheers, turning to raise his fists in triumph toward the watching Lunar Court. Varis hears Aine's scream and knows he can't wait. He thanks every god that Rakan took the bait and pulls the sword out of his body, then holds the faces of the ones he loves in his mind as he stands, grabbing his axe and taking off at a run toward the barrier just to Rakan’s back right, then jumps and launches himself off the wall and brings his axe down with an unstoppable force.
As Rakan’s head tumbles to the dirt, Varis follows, coughing blood and shaking from the surge of adrenaline it had taken. He panics, thinking somehow Balian will stop Aine from getting to him — but when he sees the flash of her powers, he knows that nothing will stand in her way. He slumps with relief before she even reaches him, barely hearing a word she says once she does. All he knows is that he's safe, he's won, and this war is over.
They're free.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Aine
The rest of the night is a blur. Aine heals Varis, and any fear she has that the King will take back his promise disappears when he lets them leave. It seems Balian is just as eager to see the back of Varis as Varis is to leave Attarand for the last time, and they part on less than good terms. Still, Aine isn't afraid. Varis proved he's willing to risk his life to do what needs to be done, and that's not something a cowardly king wants to trifle with.
Once they're safely back at Reeve’s, Varis raises a glass. “To all of you, for giving me a reason to get stabbed in the belly.”
Aine chuckles in spite of herself. “You’re completely mad! You know how many humans I had to force out of my way?”
“You shoulda seen her, brother. Men cowered out of her way after her first blast.”
“Men,” Laix huffs. “Admit you’re one of those men.”
The look on Reeve’s face makes all of them laugh, and Aine climbs into Varis’ lap. “Don’t scare me like that again.”
“I make no promises. I'm getting kind of used to getting impaled and making you save me. Feels good,” he jokes. “But I have no doubt you were exactly as scary as they say.”
“I’ll show you how scary I can be next time you worry me,” she teases back, kissing him softly and then getting off his lap for a drink. If she stays, she’ll want to ride him right there on Reeve’s couch, and as much as she thinks Reeve wouldn’t mind, they have to celebrate together first. She holds up her glass and sighs. “What comes next?”
Reeve shrugs. “Whatever we want. Maybe a trip to the coast? Varis complains about Epriven, but they've got the prettiest beaches in either realm.”
“You just like them because clothing is optional,” Laix points out. “It's a good thing I know you love me.”
“I do. And I’d show off all your bits to the world just to make them all jealous.” Reeve lifts Laix up and presses them against the wall, so Aine returns to her spot on Varis.
“Seems adrenaline is coursing through all our veins. Maybe we should take a while to relieve some of it before we make actual plans.”
Varis’ eyes darken as he slides his hands up her thighs. “Mm. I agree. But you should be warned, Your Grace... I’m not in the mood to be tied up.”
“No?” Aine leans in to nip his chin, then whispers into his ear, “Prove it, Varis Kester.”
He lifts her up and barks to Reeve to stay put, then carries her into the bedroom and kicks the door closed behind them. “Dangerous words spoken to a dangerous man, my Queen.”
“You are a dangerous man, I’ve seen it firsthand... so now I know you’ve been taking it easy on me.” Aine shivers from anticipation when he tosses her on the bed.
“I have. But now, I know what a dangerous little thing you are, and I don't have those same reservations.” Now, it's Aine who feels like prey as Varis roughly strips his clothes, and she rushes out of her own as the tiniest prick of fear sends a chill up her spine. It feels so good she moans without him even touching her. “Gods... Var...”
“Shhh,” he whispers as he climbs up slowly and hovers over her. “Don't move, Your Grace. I want to see how still you can be for me. If you move, I stop.”
“Bloody hell,” Aine whispers as he kisses below her navel. She knows exactly what’s coming, and yet when his lips touch her skin even lower, every single muscle tenses. Varis is a man of his word, and if she moves just to test him, he will do as he said, and the thought of his tongue leaving her settles her resolve.
She can do this.
Until she can’t. The moment he sends her over, her back arches off the bed as she tugs on the sheets with a long, drawn out moan. The smile he sends her way is smug and proud, but with how quickly he gets her to orgasm it’s surely earned.
Aine tugs on his hair and pulls him up, not stopping her movements until he’s straddling her chest. “My turn... remember how durable I am? Give it to me.”
His eyes flash with something like uncertainty, but it fades when he hooks his thumb in her mouth and helps her open. “Tap me if you need me to stop. Understand, Your Grace?”
Aine nods quickly, flicking his thumb with her tongue to show him how sure she is. She’s never done this before, and yet she knows she needs it, needs to feel Varis come unglued above her.
Within seconds of him entering her mouth, he groans in pleasure, making her smile around him and suck to toy with him. He sets a pace then, and even though he’s h
olding back, she doesn’t complain. They're new to this. One day, she’s sure he’ll make talking after a struggle, but today is all about finding that line and riding it together.
The first taste of him she gets has her reaching up to grip his ass to pin him deeper, and he loses it just like she’d hoped he would. Hearing him call her name as he releases sets her on a high she doesn’t believe she’ll ever come down from, and truth be told... she doesn’t want to.
“You didn't stay still,” he says with a breathless chuckle. “You cheated.”
She pushes him off with a grin. “Shut up.”
Eventually, they find the strength to return to the living room, but Aine is actually glad they’re still alone. She has something she needs to get off her chest. “Var... I don’t want to go back.”
“To... where? I don't have any plans of ever returning to Attarand, if that's what you're worried about. I’ll never be trapped inside that stone again,” he says. “Is that what you meant? Attarand and Balian?”
Aine shakes her head as she pours them both a drink. “I mean to the Sun Court, Varis. I don’t want to be the Queen anymore. I want to be here, in this realm... with you.”
Surprise flashes across his features as he sets his glass down and pulls her close. “Are you sure? If it's just me you're worried about, I'd follow you anywhere. I get stabbed too often not to,” he says with a soft smile. “I mean it, though.”
“I know,” she replies honestly. Deep down, she knows he would have followed her to yet another place he’s hated, but she could never do that to him. “I was never happy there. I thought I wanted to be queen when I was a girl, but since the day I became queen, I just felt hollow. That void was never filled until you came along.”
Varis visibly bites back an inappropriate joke, then kisses her. “I'm still going to call you ‘Your Grace.’ I hope you know that. What will happen to the Sun Court without you? I assumed your absence was temporary.”