The Plan Commences

by Kristen Ashley

  “I’ll send the one I least like,” Xi offered.

  I started laughing again and nodded. “It would be appreciated.”

  He gave a slight bow and murmured, “Anything for my queen.”

  He then resumed on his path away from my husband and I watched him eventually call out to a man who rushed to him. Xi spoke some words, the man did not look happy, but he nodded to his superior officer and started to trudge toward his king.

  I avoided his eyes as he got near me, pressed my lips together in order not to smile, and made my way over the sand to the lapping sea.

  In the ensuing days since I showed my husband my magic, I had made many overtures to his men, most especially his closest lieutenants, and had been rewarded beyond my wildest dreams.

  They were good men and their fun-loving, close nature that I’d been witness to these last many weeks being something I, myself, finally could enjoy was like being awarded a precious gift.

  Though I did not kid myself.

  The joviality and courteous attention I now enjoyed had naught to do with these overtures and everything to do with the fact that Aramus and I were not only getting along, he often held my hand when we’d stroll the beach. I also endeavored greatly to make him laugh as often as I could (and succeeded frequently). Further, we had all our meals together, and when he left me, I’d made a habit of pressing my body to his as well as my lips.

  This had the result of, in the beginning, making Aramus cheerful, and his men, attuned greatly to him, noticed it.

  However, more recently, with many a night spent together, this had the result of making Aramus noticeably frustrated, and this Aramus made noticeable by being increasingly irritable.

  In the resultant confusion (for Aramus was good-humored with me and our tent rang with his laughter in the evenings), I had taken a chance and shared with Xi and Bond what was occurring (or not, as this case was). Further, I shared what was their king’s wish to do about it. And lastly, how I wanted to rectify this as soon as possible when we resumed our journey.

  Including forward planning.

  The men were all in hearty accord.

  Thus, the rider Xi had sent to scope a spot where my husband and I could consummate our marriage (finally) and do it in a manner that would make him happy.

  Though I had plans, that evening, to do what I could to ease the tension, as it were.

  Who knew how long it would take to find something that Aramus approved of for our “splendor?”

  Something had to be done.

  For him.

  For his men.

  And for me.

  When I made the edge of the waves, I flicked out the toweling in order to set it on the sand, thinking I probably should stop cuddling my husband with intent when we were abed in the evenings. Kissing his neck. His chest. Pressing to him. Making him groan and roll into me so my hands could roam him as his roamed me. Offering my mouth to his enjoyable plunder.

  But I couldn’t help myself.

  My king was just that delicious.

  I settled my rear on the toweling, my knees to my chest, arms around them, and gazed at the sea, the breeze ruffling my curls and wafting the thin material of my dress about my thighs.

  I did this smiling at my thoughts.

  This smile faded as I realized the sea would be behind us tomorrow.

  No more night swims.

  But it was more.

  I had not yet told my husband I was mermaid.

  He knew I had Mer blood, but he did not know the fullness of that.

  When he was with his men, doing captain things and kingly things, outside of thinking how handsome he was, how much I was coming to like his lieutenants, how much I enjoyed my husband’s company and how it seemed I would very much enjoy the “splendor” we would share, I thought about that.

  About how beautifully Aramus had reacted to learning of my magic.

  But he did not know the half of it.

  He would ask questions of my father, my auntie, my village, the things I did in Nautilus when he was at sea, and he would listen to my answers with the utmost attention, as if learning every morsel of my life was as delicious as his kisses.

  And I shared with him even the minutest morsel.

  But as each day passed into the next, and I withheld that from him, it felt just like that.

  As if I was withholding something, something important, from my husband.

  Keeping it a secret.

  Not trusting it to him.

  For he gave me his laughter freely. His attention admiringly. Time with his men. Tales of his father. His mother. His grandparents. His exploits on the sea. He did it openly, weaving rich stories that would have me enthralled.

  But I was keeping the most important part of me from him.

  I needed to share all of me with him.

  I had decided the best way to share was to show. To find a boat, row out, tell him and dive into the sea, surfacing as mermaid.

  But we were leaving tomorrow. If I did it, it would have to be tonight. And I had other activities planned for that night.

  Could I do both?

  Should I do both?

  Would he allow me to do both (precisely, the second part) once he found out who I truly was? Would he wish his wife, his lover, his queen, the mother of his children to be a mermaid?

  Or would he find me fantastical and abhorrent in some way because of it?

  He’d mention mermaids before and told me, if I was one of them, he would protect that knowledge and me. Like he said he would do with my magic.

  But speaking of it when he did not think that it was the case, and it being the case, were two different things.

  My mother and father and auntie and grandmother and all of our people held this truth about ourselves as the utmost of secrets. No one around us knew who we were, what we were.

  We’d learned.

  But now, could I trust my husband?

  A husband who was also king of the seas?

  I started when I heard a thump in the sand beside me.

  I looked that way to see Aramus’s boots there. His socks landed on them before I tipped my head back and then twisted my neck, for he was moving behind me.

  He settled in there, his long, muscled legs on either side of me bent, his heels in the sand in front of the toweling, his arms snaking about me to pull me back against his body.

  Thus, I settled into him, turning to face the sea and resting my head on his shoulder.

  “You’ll miss it,” he said in my ear.

  He was speaking of the sea.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “Notting Thicket is far inland. But Sky Bay isn’t. We will make our way there immediately, once True and Farah are wed,” he promised.

  I smiled a small smile at the waves before I changed our subject.

  “You’re being too hard on your men.”

  “They must keep sharp. If this bloody Beast ever appears, it’ll be the mightiest thing they’ve fought. In the meantime, whatever happens in Cassius’s realm will likely not be pretty. It’s important they’re ready.”

  I had never been to Sky Bay.

  I’d heard the beaches of Airen were black.

  But what I knew of Sky Bay, it was all rock.

  They did not need to be drilled on the beach.

  I twisted to catch his gaze.

  “I know nothing about soldiering, but my impression is that this is not normal drilling.”

  His brows drew together. “Have my men been complaining?”

  “No,” I somewhat lied.

  “They best not,” he muttered, his attention drifting to the waves.

  I twisted even farther in his arms and put my hand on his chest.

  “Husband,” I called.

  His eyes tipped down to me. “Wife.”

  I grinned up at him because I liked that I was that…to him.

  Though I was not that, not yet, not entirely.

  It was time to get on with that.
r />   The “entirety” part.

  Thus, hesitantly, I began, “I think that tonight we should ask the men who have tents closer to us to move them a bit away so—”

  “No,” Aramus denied, before I even got my suggestion completely out.

  “But—”

  “No, Ha-Lah. We leave tomorrow. I’m sure there will be some settlement or village or something along the way that will prove fit for our needs.”

  “But we can—”

  “No.”

  “What I mean to say is, not going through with the whole—”

  “My queen,” he gave me a squeeze, “no.”

  I felt my face screw up. “You aren’t even listening.”

  “Will what you say make me hard?”

  I paused to consider that.

  “Right,” he muttered.

  “Aramus!” I snapped, also slapping him lightly on his chest.

  “Ha-Lah,” he replied.

  I persevered, “I could just…with my mouth. And then you could, er… with your mouth. Or fingers. Or, say…both.”

  He tilted his head back and said to the skies. “She wants to kill me. She actually does. My wife wishes my death.”

  I turned fully in his arms so that I was sitting on a hip between his thighs and thus could press both hands to his chest, hard.

  “Husband, we need to ease the tension.”

  He again looked to me. “And we will…properly.”

  “I do not know. I have not had much experience. The fumblings of youth. But I’m relatively certain I can suck your shaft…properly,” I stated as he glowered at me. “With a little supervision,” I ended on a mutter.

  “Can we make a pact?”

  “A pact?” I asked warily.

  “A pact,” he asserted. “This pact including you not mentioning your experience, however not much there was. And I will do the same, even though mine could not be construed in any way as ‘not much.’”

  Considering his simply sharing his “could not be construed in any way as ‘not much,’” made my blood get hot, I felt it wise to reply, “Absolutely.”

  “Now, if my men are such ninnies they cannot handle sand drills from an exacting captain without making their discontent known to their queen, I will meet you in bed this eve after I’ve found some privacy and taken care of things.”

  I shifted against him as a very certain visualization consumed my mind at how he would go about doing that.

  “Ha-Lah, stop staring at me like you want to take a bite out of me,” he grunted.

  “I sort of do,” I whispered, staring at his mouth.

  “Months, she’s a cold fish. When I can’t bed her, she’s a hot tart. I cannot win,” he groused.

  I ignored that and asked, “Can I watch you take care of things?”

  Aramus was back to grunting. “No.”

  I pouted.

  He pressed a swift kiss on my mouth, lifted away a few inches and declared, “There is much we need to talk about, and this is not it.”

  “And what would be it?”

  “Tonight, we must show my men your magic.”

  I grew stiff in his arms.

  Those arms tightened, and his voice lowered. “Ha-Lah, you can trust them.”

  I knew this, for Aramus trusted them. I also knew this, for they’d been showing me I could from the moment we started our voyage to Firenze with their service and regard of my king.

  It still worried me.

  “Is it only the sea, or all waters that you command?” he asked.

  “All waters, though my power, all my magics, Aramus, are stronger when I’m close to the sea.”

  He nodded.

  “Saltwater,” he deduced.

  “Yes,” I confirmed.

  “But you still command fresh,” he went on.

  “I cannot call down the rain. But yes, a lake, a pond, river or stream, there is power there for me.”

  “Therefore, should we see a lake or pond, we can separate from the other men and you can show my brothers, when you are ready.”

  I gazed at my husband.

  That was it?

  I’d stiffened, I didn’t make even one verbal protest, and he decided we would wait?

  “Aramus—”

  “And now, I must ask about your powers. I felt your magic on the way to Fire City. Does it debilitate you to use it when you are not close to water, fresh or sea?”

  I took us back to our previous subject, saying softly, “Aramus, we can show them tonight.”

  He shook his head. “No. You aren’t ready. We will do it when you’re ready.”

  “Do you trust them?” I queried.

  “Yes,” he told me. “With my life. But more, with yours.”

  Then it was decided.

  “We will show them tonight.”

  “Ha-Lah, if—”

  “Aramus,” I pressed into his chest with my hands, “we have no idea what the future will bring. If it is needed that I call upon my magics, they should not be surprised by them. If you trust them, then I trust them and tonight, they will learn about me.”

  His face gentled and he bent to give me another swift kiss.

  “If you’re ready, we shall,” he said when he pulled away. “If the night comes and you find you are not, then we shan’t. It is your magic, your gift, your choice, Ha-Lah.”

  “Thank you, husband.”

  He shook his head again. “It is naught for you to express gratitude for, my queen. It’s yours to give and it is you who must feel comfortable in the giving.”

  Somewhere along this journey, I had earned the love of my husband. He had not told me this, but I knew.

  And it must be said, he was earning mine in return.

  Very swiftly.

  Especially when he said things like that.

  I pressed to him and it was me this time who touched my lips to his.

  When I slid away, I answered his earlier question.

  “And no. It does not debilitate me to use my magic when I’m not close to water. Though, it is not as strong when I’m not close. And like any witch, the more I use it, the less of it I have. It has to regenerate, and it does, but if I’m not close to water, not very swiftly. This happens faster when I am near lake, pond, river, or stream. And even faster, when I’m close to the sea. Indeed, it’s almost immediate and the magic is nearly indefatigable when I’m in the sea. It would take great works and onerous feats for it to dim when I am in the sea.”

  Something passed over his face as I said this, making it appear as if he was not looking at me even when he was.

  “Aramus,” I called.

  “That is very Mer.”

  By Medusa.

  How did he know that?

  “Pardon?” I whispered.

  “The merfolk. Their magic comes from the sea, so when they’re in it, it’s nearly inexhaustible.”

  “How d-do you…” I cleared my throat, “know that? The merfolk have been gone for centuries.”

  Something shifted in his eyes I could not read before he gave me a squeeze, straightened me in his arms and said, “I am King of Mar-el. King of the Sea. My father passed on to me many things others do not know, as his father shared these with him, and his with him, and so on for millennia.”

  I did not think that was it.

  Or not all of it.

  “My king—”

  I said no more for something else changed about him and his head jerked to the side.

  It was then I felt it.

  And heard it.

  There was a restless feeling about the beach and loud murmurings of the men farther up the shore.

  I heard a call.

  Then a shout.

  And more shouting.

  After that, I was up.

  All the way up, in Aramus’s arms, and it seemed he was intent on running up the beach with me.

  I understood why. There was a great shadow coasting down the beach, blocking the sun.

  By the seas, what could that be?<
br />
  There were even more shouts, and as Aramus started running up the beach, Xi, Nav and Bond were suddenly there, surrounding us, all with their sabers unsheathed.

  “Get the bounden under the trees!” Aramus bellowed, and I looked where he’d directed this order and saw Nis turn on his boot in the sand and go running back up the beach.

  We’d almost made our tent when I heard what came next.

  Aramus heard it too but he did the strangest thing.

  And the craziest.

  He halted.

  “Aramus!” I shouted. “Put me down! We need to run!”

  From what, I did not know.

  I just knew we had to run from that sound.

  I squirmed in his arms and he released my legs, but he did not release me.

  He held me close to his body with one arm.

  “Aramus!” I struggled against his hold, terror filling me. “We need to run!” I screamed.

  He was looking up to the skies.

  I tried to pull him with me but noticed his men around us were all also looking to the skies.

  And they were all smiling.

  The others, not his closest brothers, were not smiling. There was a good deal of shouting mostly drowned out by the noise coming from above. And I could feel the frantic activity.

  That noise was getting louder.

  Closer.

  The shadow all but covering the beach.

  The noise was flapping.

  I heard the screams and may have done the same myself when the first showed over the horizon.

  And then another.

  And another.

  More.

  Dozens.

  By the sirens.

  Dragons.

  “Aramus,” I whispered pitifully, pulling at his hold.

  He looked down at me, still smiling.

  “Frey arrives.”

  I stopped pulling and blinked.

  “Calm them,” Aramus ordered, Xi nodded, and he and the others jogged up the beach to what seemed like chaos.

  As it would.

  Because…

  Dragons!

  Aramus did not jog us up the beach (not that trees were going to be of any assistance, I’d never seen a dragon, but I’d heard stories, and their fire could melt iron and disintegrate stone).

  He moved us down it, toward the water, as colossal, mighty dragons filled the sky, their flapping wings a cacophony of terror. And those wings were so strong, I could feel the stiff breeze wafting down from their command of the air about them.