by Fiona Cavell
“I want you to meet my parents,” Sicarus said solemnly, “but don’t be shocked; they are not like me. They enjoy using their powers and may be birds when you meet them as they like to test things.” He told her they would not come to the wedding out of principle, as they liked being birds whereas he preferred his human form. He hoped she would understand and respect their wishes and be polite and not make a scene. He then led her to a clearing, where she was shocked indeed.
Two large black birds were fighting over a giant worm. They were squawking and digging their talons into the ground, uprooting the earth, sending soil and stones flying. A stone hit Fiona hard on the leg, making her cry out. This caused the birds to turn around to look at her and momentarily drop the huge worm. The worm was only half alive, battered and covered in blood, squirming and wriggling slowly, attempting to find a way underground, away from its predators. Fiona gasped upon seeing the birds’ faces, their greedy beaks splattered with blood and chunks of flesh, their beady black eyes reflecting their murderous souls. They squawked and looked away from Fiona and Sicarus, pecking again at their target, the dying worm, and finally ripping it savagely into smithereens, blood oozing into the earth.
Sicarus told Fiona she should be polite and introduce herself. She was, after all, to be their daughter-in-law. Fiona choked back her tears and tried to retain her good manners, claiming she was pleased to meet them, and she would make Sicarus happy when they married.
The large black birds ignored her, still covered in blood, and squawked to their son, “What about Guinness?”
Sicarus bowed to them and nodded. He later explained that they were having trouble accepting Fiona as his future wife and had wanted him to marry his last girlfriend, called Guinness, as she was one of them. That was all Fiona’s future parents-in-law could say. They wouldn’t acknowledge her, try and be polite, or even look at her. She wasn’t good enough in their eyes; their black, beady, murderous eyes.
Sicarus led Fiona silently away, sobbing in disbelief. He transformed without a word and she climbed on his back, her leg still stinging from the stone. On the journey home she tried to concentrate on the beauty of the stars and breathe the still night air. She could not understand how someone as beautiful and magical as Sicarus could have come from those horrible creatures. It made no sense, so all she could do was forget it and put it down to a freak of nature; after all, Sicarus had already told her he was not like them, and how honest he was in showing her his terrible embarrassment, revealing all to her as he must love her so much.
The wedding was to be the following day, and when they returned to her village Fiona spent the night with Sicarus, allowing him to bathe her bruised leg with soothing tenderness, taking control of her every need. She had never spent the night with him before and was worried that she wouldn’t know what to do, or he might do something she didn’t like, but the experience was perfect, peaceful, seductive, smooth, but also exciting, stimulating and revitalising. She realised now why women wanted to marry; it was the most natural, normal thing in the world, an inevitable consequence of life. She could hardly remember why she hadn’t wanted it before, why she’d felt she would rather be alone. Her body felt complete now, she had finally grown up and become part of nature, even if it was with a magical and almost unnatural person. She cuddled up to his mystical body, pondering these things until she finally fell into a peaceful sleep.
*
The wedding was beautiful, and Fiona felt proud to be with such a handsome, exceptional stranger. She forgot all about the horror of his parents, the worm they tortured and how they had ignored her. She was just happy he had chosen her and not his last girlfriend to be his wife. She felt privileged.
After the wedding feast, Sicarus announced that Fiona would be living with him in his house made of sticks high above the treetops, and she would have everything there she needed; all she had to do was ask. Although Fiona had accepted that on her marriage, she would leave her parents’ hut, she hadn’t actually thought about giving up her occupation of looking after the village animals, losing the ability to trade in her own right, and her independence. She had assumed that they would be given a hut in the village that Sicarus had now become a part of. A village that had made her feel safe all her life. She did not really want to leave her parents, especially now they had become proud of her for finally finding someone to marry. She did not want to leave her animals either.
Still, she had chosen Sicarus now and she was happy that she would have the type of life she had always dreamt of, living in a faraway place with someone adventurous. So she said goodbye to her parents, the villagers and her animals, whom Sicarus had arranged to be looked after by her mother, and left hand in hand with her new husband.
“Don’t forget to come back and visit.” Her mother smiled behind tears of joy to see her daughter’s dream come true. Fiona also had tears, but they were of sadness for leaving the village, and the villagers mourned Fiona’s departure.
Chapter Three
As soon as the village was behind them, Sicarus transformed into a bird once more and they soared high above the trees and landed in a little house made of sticks, isolated high up in one of the tallest trees. As Sicarus transformed back into himself once more, Fiona couldn’t help but be impressed with the house which was now her home. It was comfortable and spacious with spectacular views of the whole forest. For a while she was happy with Sicarus in her treetop home. Occasionally he would transform into the bird and they would set off on adventures together, or he would go alone and bring her back beautiful presents of exotic fruits or flowers. Her life was complete, and happily she discovered she was having a baby, and nothing pleased her more than to think they would be their own little family. Again, she smiled to herself, thinking how wrong she had been not believing, a few months earlier, that she would ever be married.
She did still miss her parents and her animals and wondered how they were. Whenever she suggested to Sicarus that they should go back to visit he always came up with other, lovelier things to do: a flight to see the cool blue ocean or the snow-capped mountains.
Before their first baby was born, they had a beautiful flight beneath the stars. Just as Fiona was trying to climb off the bird, she lost her centre of gravity. Her belly had become heavier and as she fell, she reached out and grabbed hold of the bird’s wing. Immediately the bird reacted and threw Fiona off, stamping on her belly with his talons and scratching her chest. He then squawked off, leaving Fiona in a bloodied huddle. She was shocked and hurt. How could her beloved Sicarus have done that to her and, even worse, their unborn child? She broke down and cried. She had never felt so scared and alone.
A few minutes later Sicarus returned full of remorse, reminding Fiona she had promised never to touch his wings, and this was the consequence which she had brought upon herself. Fiona wept bitterly both for herself and her unborn baby but felt guilty that perhaps she was responsible for what had happened as Sicarus suggested. He told her repeatedly that she was to blame for his actions, and even became cross at her for hurting their baby as a result. He demanded an apology, which Fiona freely gave, still in a state of shock. He warned her again never to touch his wings as he could not control his reaction when under pressure. They were his magical wings which had given Fiona everything, and she needed to respect them. Fiona was full of remorse.
Following this incident, Sicarus refused to let Fiona fly again while she was pregnant. “You will probably spoil it again and grab on to my wing,” he said firmly. “I don’t want you causing me any further difficulties.” Fiona begged to let them fly again, but he cast her aside and told her she was selfish and there would be no more flying until he could trust her to do as she was told. She begged and begged, but nothing would change his ruling. Fiona finally gave up and bitterly regretted her actions. Without the flying she felt trapped above the treetops, and she wanted more than ever to visit her parents but Sicarus would not allow her to l
eave.
Fiona felt imprisoned. For the first time since she had been there, she realised she could not leave the house unless he took her. She was scared. “What if you have an accident one day and I am unable to get out?” she tried to reason with him. “What if we are struck by lightning while you are away?” Sicarus told her nothing like that would ever happen, but she began to fear more. Deep panic set in. If she tried to reason with him he wouldn’t listen. If she begged him, he wouldn’t listen. If she cried, he wouldn’t listen. So, she had to try a new tactic: give him what he wanted so that he might just listen to her.
“What can I do for you to make you happier?” she asked him softly, choking back her tears. “So that you will trust me and let me have an emergency escape route to come and find you to help you if you are hurt and unable to fly?” She suggested a simple rope or ladder so that she could climb down to the forest floor and promised not to use it other than to help him should he ever become injured and unable to fly. “I would do anything for you,” she vowed as he smiled selfishly.
“As you want me to make you this rope ladder, there is something you can do for me if you are serious about doing anything for me.” He grinned. “It’s a tiny favour compared to what you are asking of me,” he continued, his grin widening.
“Anything,” Fiona promised. “Please let me have the opportunity to do what you want.” Her heart sunk inside her chest as she knew she had sunk lower than she ever would have wanted. She had compromised herself, like she had always promised to herself from a young age she would never do for anyone, let alone a man. She knew what he would ask. And here she was begging him, like one of the girls from the village she had always said she didn’t want to be like. Going against her instincts and her own sense of worth to please her husband in the hope he would do something for her. Sacrificing herself for his ugly, selfish pleasures and begging him for the opportunity.
“All right then.” He finally gave in to her begging, grabbed the top of her head and forced her to her knees. “If you insist.”
Fiona tried not to vomit by swallowing hard and breathing slowly. She hoped it would be over soon. Sicarus clearly enjoyed every minute and did his best to make it last for as long as possible. Fiona got the impression that the more upset she was and disliked what was happening, the happier Sicarus became. He became most excited by her dread, torment and fear. Realising how he appeared to gain energy from her pain was difficult for her to process, but her own survival mode took over and she learned to pretend she enjoyed doing such a disgusting act. This was the only way, it seemed, to lessen his depraved gratification in hurting her. To get through what she had agreed to do, simply to move on to the next day.
*
A few weeks later they had a beautiful daughter they named Gabrielle. Sicarus was a devoted father, seeing to Fiona and Gabrielle’s every need, although Fiona was still essentially unable to go out. The tree house now had a rope ladder leading to the ground, but it was dangerous enough for one person to climb down, let alone with a babe in arms. But the baby brought her a new lease of life and Fiona was even happier with her new family. The baby was quite demanding, though, and required Fiona’s constant attention, and one day an unexpected thing happened.
While Gabrielle was crying, and Fiona was trying hopelessly to calm her, Sicarus suddenly started shouting and pacing the tree house faster and faster, and then his feet transformed into talons and he turned into the bird. Not because he intended to fly them on a stargazing flight around the yellow moon to soothe the baby, but because, it appeared, his anger and impatience had simply transformed him.
Fiona held her breath, and somehow the baby sensed her fear and stopped crying. All was silent as the bird looked at her with his beady black eyes and started to peck at her. Fiona was holding the baby in her arms, and so all she could do was to hold her tightly to her chest and let herself be pecked and scratched by the bird’s talons. The horrible hard beak stabbed her skin several times, hammering into her with thudding pain; the talons were sharp knives piercing her skin with burning pain. The pain was so intense and unexpected she was in shock and simply froze, allowing the bird to hurt her as much as he desired.
The bird then flew away. Fiona was left bleeding. Her flesh was torn, and huge purple bruises started to form beneath her skin. She felt lifeless, abandoned and unable to understand what had just happened. Sicarus had attacked her on purpose because he was angry. He had transformed into the bird without magic or wonder, but out of hatred and apparently involuntarily. Fiona had always believed this magical transformation was something he could stop and start whenever he wanted to bring them joy, but she did not feel joy now; she felt in danger.
Tears streamed down her face. How could he let the bird take over him out of anger and attack her? Worse still, how could he attack her with their baby in her arms? What if he had hurt the baby? She looked down at Gabrielle, still in her arms. She looked just like an angel, and Fiona’s heart was filled with love. Then she noticed tiny red specks of blood on the baby angel’s white dress; Fiona’s blood had splashed her when the bird had attacked and pecked at her arms. Fiona gently tried to wipe the blood away, but the tiny dress was also wet with her tears, and the more she tried to wipe it, the more the blood mixed with the tears and they became one, larger blots of salt-watered blood absorbing into the white fabric, turning a pretty pink colour to match the angel’s rosy lips. Fiona kissed those perfect lips and felt peace. She sat there, babe in arms, the baby still quiet, unable to move while her body began the process of healing itself.
A few hours later Sicarus returned, not as the bird as he usually flew into the tree house, but as a man, climbing up the rope ladder carrying a large bunch of forest flowers and delicious fruits. “I am so sorry,” he said. “I can normally control when I transform; I don’t know what happened. It must be because I was overtired with not sleeping because of the baby. You really need to get that baby into a better routine, so it sleeps through the night.” He then went over to Gabrielle and started playing with her, making her laugh.
“Dada.” She said her first word, which made Fiona beam, despite her horrific injuries. Sicarus picked up Gabrielle and changed her clothes, dressing her in a golden gown he had brought for her and throwing the bloodstained dress away without a word, and played with Gabrielle for the rest of the day.
*
Sicarus was kind to Fiona after that; he looked after Gabrielle while Fiona rested, allowing her injuries to fully heal. The bruises faded, and the cuts scabbed over, forming new skin underneath. While her body healed, her mind could not heal itself of the ill caused to it, keeping Fiona awake with terrifying thoughts, dreaming that Sicarus would harm her again or, worse still, harm Gabrielle. Some days Fiona watched Sicarus playing with Gabrielle and seemingly showing her love and caring for her, and she began to feel guilty that she could even dream that he might hurt his own child. Perhaps what had happened was truly a one-off, something out of the blue, and they could be a happy family again.
As Gabrielle grew, Fiona wondered whether it would be helpful for her to have a playmate, a brother or sister to have fun with and share experiences together, although deep down she did fear Sicarus’ reaction to a crying baby. But she felt Gabrielle needed this, so she went on and had another child, this time a boy she named Jegudiel. Sicarus was surprisingly agreeable to the idea of having another baby, and even boasted about his potency. However, during the pregnancy, he became unsupportive and told Fiona that because the baby was her idea, she would have to deal with the consequences. By the time she was almost due to give birth, he told her that she would have to do this alone and look after Gabrielle, as she had wanted this, not him, and he had more important things to do than look after Gabrielle at her request. Fiona bitterly regretted getting pregnant, and realised she was on her own. She begged Sicarus to help, but he tormented her and agreed only to look after Gabrielle during the birth as a favour to her, provided
she would do a small favour for him. Fiona reluctantly agreed as he forced her to her knees. “What have I become?” she wept bitterly afterwards. She had become his slave.
During Jegudiel’s birth Sicarus assisted Fiona and carried out his promise to look after Gabrielle. After the birth he even held his son and acted the proud father.
But whilst Jegudiel brought fun and laughter he also cried, and this once again set off an accidental transformation on Sicarus’ part when he ended up annoyed by the crying baby and started pacing, pecking and scratching Fiona. This time the attack was more brutal. The bird dug his claws into Fiona’s face and arms while she was trying to feed Jegudiel.
“Please don’t kill our baby,” she pleaded as she tried to shelter the child from his father. The beady black eyes looked back at her with no remorse, no emotion, and the scaly orange claws struck at her again, tearing at her skin, ripping it apart, bright red blood escaping from within. Fiona feared the worst, and frantic thoughts of a dying, bloodied baby filled her traumatised mind. “You will not have him!” she screamed at the bird as she hunched her shoulders, lowered her head and engulfed Jegudiel with her body so no part of him remained exposed. She knew this meant exposing herself and braced herself for excruciating pain. The bird was happy to have a target and jumped on her shoulders, clawing down her back, creating crimson tracks, marking a mother’s sacrificial love. Her right shoulder was hurting beyond any pain she had previously felt, and she could feel the hot blood gushing from the cruel gash caused by one of the talons sticking into her flesh and becoming entangled in her shredded skin. Eventually the bird flew off and Fiona remained on the floor, holding baby Jegudiel for a few moments until she was able to struggle to her feet and put the sleeping baby to bed in the room he shared with his sister, who appeared to have slept through the whole attack.