The Blessing of Equinox

by Kathryn Reynolds

  “That was the mistake you mentioned,” Marsilia said, realization starting to light in her eyes.

  “Aye,” he said. “When we found the lair where he was conducting his dark magic, she turned on me, stood with her father. I begged her to stand down; told her she didn’t have to fight him, just not to stop me. She refused, attacked me.”

  His gaze darkened as he spoke, his grip tightening on the metal goblet until it began to dent and he forced himself to stop. Taking a deep breath he let it out slowly.

  “She meant to kill me. It was either her or me, so I did what I had to, to serve my king, to protect my people. I killed them both, and it shattered my heart.”

  “Oh, Fjell,” Marsilia breathed, rising up on her knees to rest her hand against his cheek. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine…”

  Setting his goblet aside, he took her hand and kissed her palm before leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers and closing his eyes. “I can’t tell anyone else the truth,” he said quietly. “Her mother, Lady Vada, is innocent in all this, but she would be murdered by a mob, for the dual association, if the truth gets out. Promise me ye won’t tell anyone.”

  “I promise. I will share this secret with no one unless you give me permission,” Marsilia whispered without hesitation, and leaned in, giving him a feathery kiss.

  A trace of magic tickled his lips and Fjell jerked back, eyes wide as he stared at her. She smiled gently in return as his eyes widened further in understanding.

  “Ye bound yerself,” he whispered.

  “To your permission to speak of this, yes,” she answered, settling back to her seat on the ground and looking up at him.

  “Ye didn’t have to do that, Marsilia,” he frowned. “I trust ye, or I wouldn’t have told ye.”

  “I know,” she answered, rising up on her knees again, still holding his hands, blue eyes wide with concern. “But I haven’t had to keep a secret this big before… I haven’t really had to keep any secrets before this quest, and we see how well I’ve done on keeping Eudon a private matter. I don’t want to ruin everything you’ve sacrificed with a misplaced comment.”

  Sighing, he freed one of his hands from hers and leaned in, kissing her forehead as he held the back of her neck. “Fanden, seidkona, elskan min,” he muttered, resting his forehead against hers as he ran his fingers up into the back of her golden locks. “Yer mind and heart are always turned to others.”

  “Stop, this isn’t about me right now,” she said, leaning in to kiss him lightly again. No magic tingled across his lips this time.

  “But it is,” he answered, untangling his hand from her hair and sitting up, his other hand still held in hers. “Ye know the truth of me now. Ye know what I face going forward, and what I might be dragging ye into.” He paused, searching her eyes, watching the furrow of her brow and the small frown that pulled at her lips. “It’s for ye to choose, knowing all of this, if ye still want me.”

  There was no hesitation. Marsilia, his white witch, his seidkona, took his face in her hands and pulled him down to her, kissing him gently, tenderly. Blood pounded in his ears and he resisted the urge to sweep her up in his arms, to lavish her with his affection and longings. Instead, he raised his hands to brush across her cheeks, her neck, returning her kiss.

  After a moment, an eternity, she pulled back, her eyes shining with affection. “I choose you,” she said, “now more than even before. You are honorable, loyal, and steadfast; willing to sacrifice to protect the innocent; willing to give yourself for just causes. I choose you, cariad.”

  Even as his heart swelled from her choice, his brow furrowed as his thumb traced down her cheek. “Cariad?” he asked, unfamiliar with the language.

  “Lover,” she answered, turning her face to kiss his hand. “It’s Welsh. ... Elskan min?”

  Fjell chuckled, taking her hand in his to kiss it. “My love. We’re ridiculous, aren’t we? Hiding what we’re saying behind other languages.”

  “I like it. A myriad of languages to tell each other the same thing,” she answered, rising up to kiss him again.

  The flapping of wings drew their attention away, and Fjell only caught a glimpse of the raven flying out the open window. “I guess Astud is satisfied with our agreement,” he said, turning his gaze back down to her.

  Leaning in for just a peck of a kiss, Marsilia stood and went to the window, closing it. Standing as well, he followed her. As she turned back around, he took her in his arms, leaning in to kiss her deeply, passionately. Her breath caught at the first kiss before her arms wound around his neck again and she pressed herself against him.

  Trailing his lips off of hers, he kissed slowly down her neck, listening to the shudders of pleasure enter her breath, feeling her pulse quicken beneath his mouth. The lavender and sage scent of her hair engulfed him as he pressed her back against the window ledge. Her fingers spread across his back, his neck, running up into his hairline, clutching at the cloth of his shirt. His lips returned to hers, pressing her mouth open and she returned his kiss with equal passion, her hand gripping the hair at the base of his skull.

  Shifting, he lifted her off the ground with utter ease and turned, carrying her over to the bed to sit her on the edge of it. Pushing her skirts up her thighs and pressing himself between her knees, he continued to kiss her for a long moment more before breaking it off, breathing heavily. He leaned his forehead against hers, taking a moment to regain himself. She leaned in, trying to return to his kiss, and he raised a hand, placing a finger over her lips.

  “Ye are sure this is what ye want,” Fjell said, opening his eyes to gaze back at her. “Ye are sure ye want me as yer lover. Tonight.”

  “Yes,” Marsilia answered breathlessly, pushing his hand aside to kiss him deeply once more.

  Pulling her hips against himself, he pressed her back against the bed, kissing her neck, along her collarbone, down her chest, as he finally allowed his hands to roam freely. She returned his fervor, arching to meet his touch as she began unfastening his belt.

  Chapter 38

  Marsilia awoke with the dawn, wrapped in Fjell’s arms. She remained still, listening to his steady breathing, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against her back, remembering the night before - the intimacy, both physical and emotional, the bond forged in honesty, the pleasure and passion. He had quickly proven himself an incredibly attentive and ardent lover. For one brief moment, she considered rekindling that passion to wake him.

  Until she remembered what the day was to hold.

  A pit of fear and uncertainty welled in her stomach. Today they would face the dark witch, and either save her pa and her woods, or lose everything.

  She must have shifted or tensed with her thoughts, for Fjell’s arm tightened around her, drawing her closer. He pressed a tender kiss against the back of her head as he stirred.

  “Good morning, elskan min,” he said quietly.

  A smile drew across her lips despite her worries, and she closed her eyes, relishing in the comfort of his embrace.

  “Good morning, cariad,” she answered, turning in his arms enough to kiss him over her shoulder.

  His fingers traced slowly up her body, between her breasts, along her neck to her jawline, sending a tremor through her as he kissed her in return. Taking his hand in her own, she pulled it back and drew away from the kiss, opening her eyes to meet his gaze.

  “You tease,” she said with an amused smile, feeling heat begin to creep into her cheeks.

  “It doesn’t have to be just teasing,” Fjell answered, mischief dancing in his brown eyes.

  “We have a lot ahead of us today,” she sighed, releasing his hand and turning over to face him fully.

  “Aye,” he sighed as well, returning his hand to tenderly caress her cheek. “Guess we should get up, then.”

  “Unfortunately,” Marsilia said, nerves beginning to sink in her stomach once more. Her brow furrowed and she dropped her gaze for a moment before looking back up at him. “Fjell, I’m…
I’m kind of scared. Of what we must do today. Of how it will go.”

  His expression grew serious and he cupped her cheek in his hand. “That’s normal, Marsilia, and it’s alright for ye to have some fear, eh? It means ye understand the gravity of what we face.” Pausing, he drew her closer, kissing her forehead, his beard tickling her nose. “Just don’t let it dominate ye. Yer clever and more powerful than ye were before. We can do this.” A small smile pulled across his face. “Together.”

  Curling back up against his chest, she tucked her head under his chin, holding him as he wound his arms around her again.

  “Together,” she agreed.

  * * *

  “What are you planning to sacrifice?” Marsilia asked as they followed Trien through the Keep to where Lady Isabel awaited them.

  Fjell glanced down at his seidkona and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “As ye gave the memory of yer first kiss, I’ll do the same,” he answered. “It feels appropriate and ye can’t get much more of an even sacrifice.”

  They were both dressed in readiness to depart, he in his full armor, her with her bow slung over one shoulder, Astud perched on her other shoulder. A part of him was still wrapped in wonder by the night before, despite what they were on to now. Even as he turned his mind to the tasks before them, his heart was filled with more joy and contentment than he had felt in what seemed like an eternity.

  Through a door at the rear of the throne room, they emerged into the Lady of Autumn’s private garden. The stone walls that held it in privacy were barely visible beneath an overgrowth of vines sporting vibrant crimson leaves and a heavy bounty of dark purple grapes. A cluster of aspen trees dominated the center of the garden, their white bark and gold leaves standing in stark contrast to the dark grapevines. The ground was littered in red and gold, completely obscuring whatever grass or stone lay beneath.

  Lady Isabel stood before the trees, her hands folded neatly at her waist as she awaited them. Fjell paused just past the doorway, bowing low before her and Marsilia dropped into a curtsey at his side.

  “Good morning, yer grace,” he said politely.

  “Good morning to you both,” she answered, inclining her head. “Are you prepared to make your sacrifice, Master Fjell?”

  “I am,” he answered, releasing Marsilia’s hand to remove his gauntlets and glancing aside at her. “Would ye mind holding these?”

  “Of course,” she answered, taking the gauntlets from him.

  Leaning down, he brushed a kiss across Marsilia’s forehead before turning back and following the Lady to the far wall of the garden. With a wave of her hand, the vines parted, revealing a ledge in the stone wall much like there had been in Spring’s garden. Trien stepped up beside her, seeming to have materialized out of thin air, and offered her the Unseelie blade, hilt forward to allow her to easily pull it from the scabbard.

  As the Lady laid the blade upon the shelf, there was a commotion behind them, the flap of wings, the tearing of cloth.

  “Astud! Stop, what are you doing?!” Marsilia exclaimed and Fjell whipped back around to see what was happening.

  The spirit raven clutched to her belt, ripping open the silk bag that held the rose carved ruby as Marsilia tried to get it off of her. As soon as the ruby tumbled to the ground, the raven hopped off and began nudging the gemstone through the leaves towards them.

  “Ye alright?” Fjell asked, taking a few steps towards his seidkona.

  “Yes,” she sighed in exasperation, bending down to pick up his gauntlets from where she had dropped them. “What was that about Astud?”

  The raven continued nudging the ruby closer to the dwarf and Lady. Confused, Fjell glanced aside to find Lady Isabel frowning in consideration. Taking a few steps forward, she bent, picking up the large ruby and turned it over in her hands.

  “Is this your work, Master Fjell?” the Lady asked, turning back to face him. At his nod, she considered the piece again. “What did you imbue it with?”

  “Protection from disease,” he answered, his brow drawing down. “Why?”

  Lady Isabel considered the gem for a moment more before speaking. “I may be able to work this into the blade alongside the Blessing. If it succeeds, your blade would have whatever the fates grant it along with this enchantment, but the gem would be destroyed. If it fails, the enchantment and gem would likely both be destroyed but I don’t think it would affect the blessing or your sacrifice. However, I cannot make any guarantees.”

  Fjell frowned, rubbing a hand across his mouth before looking over to Marsilia. “What do ye think, elskan min?”

  The seidkona frowned, looking down at Astud. “Is that what you were trying for, Astud? To add this to the Blessing?”

  The raven bobbed and ruffled its feathers in reply before taking wing to alight upon Marsilia’s shoulder again. Biting her lip, she looked back at Fjell.

  “If Lady Isabel doesn’t think it will affect the Blessing, I don’t see why we shouldn’t try,” she finally said. “If the dark witch calls another nuckelavee or the like, it would be a serious boon in our fight.”

  “Alright,” he said, nodding to her before looking back to the Lady and approaching the stone shelf again.

  Laying the blade upon the shelf, Lady Isabel placed the ruby atop it. “Keep your focus tight on the memory you wish to sacrifice,” she warned. “Remember every aspect of it that you can and do not allow your mind to wander.”

  “Aye,” he answered evenly, raising his hands to lay atop the ruby and blade.

  As the Lady of Autumn laid her hands atop his, he closed his eyes and remembered. A cold winter night before his beard had fully come in; the winter solstice feast and young Lady Ingrid, delicate and pale, her dark hair shining in the light of the fires as her eyes glowed. How he had nervously asked her to dance, and she agreed. How he had snuck in the kiss at the end of the dance, half expecting her to slap him for it. Instead she’d kissed him back despite the crowd surrounding them. He had been sure his heart was going to pound out of his chest, certain that he could feel every eye present focused upon them—

  The memory vanished and he felt the ruby shatter beneath his hand. Jerking his eyes open, he looked down. The grapevines that covered the wall pierced through Lady Isabel’s hands, through his own hands, wrapping around the blade and carrying pieces of the ruby with them. There was no real pain, only a strange pressure, but as the vines continued to carry the fragments of the ruby with them, they began to wither. Up the wall, the withering continued, grapes drying and falling, leaves turning dead brown and floating to the ground.

  He looked to Lady Isabel. Her eyes still closed, her brow was drawn together, her jaw clenched. The strange pressure began to move closer to pain and he gritted his teeth against moving, closing his eyes. He tried to draw forth the memory again but it was already gone. Something was not right.

  As the growing ache from the magic began to move into sharp pain, the vines shattered. Lady Isabel jerked her hands back with a hiss and leaned against the wall, but Fjell’s gaze was locked upon the blade. Ignoring the magical scars left on his hands, he picked the sword up. The space left between the etchings Spring’s blessing had left were not etched as he had been expecting, but were as red as blood.

  He looked back over at the Lady as she righted herself, frowning at the blade as well.

  “Did it work?” he finally asked, hearing the crunch of leaves as Marsilia approached behind them.

  “It did something,” Isabel sighed and reached over, laying her hand upon the blade. Only then did he notice the blood that trailed down her fingers.

  “Yer injured, yer grace,” he said quietly.

  “Very astute,” she answered dryly, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, she pressed her lips together, looking between them. “The ruby enchantment was transferred and the Blessing holds, but it still hasn’t formed into a resolved purpose.”

  “I don’t understand,” Marsilia said even as she began drawing out a vial and bandage
s from one of her bags, his gauntlets tucked under her arm. “What does this mean?”

  “It means we’ll have go into this fight without relying on the Blessing,” Fjell answered, frowning.

  “May I, your grace?” Marsilia asked, holding her hand out to the Lady.

  “Don’t bother, child,” Lady Isabel said, shaking her head and wiping the blood from her hands, revealing the wounds already closing on their own. Glancing at the other blade on Fjell’s hip, she nodded to it. “We could try again with that one, but it would mean traveling back to Lady Ylva, and then returning here. Even with my husband’s aid, it would take another couple of days that I imagine you don’t have to spare.”

  Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Fjell looked down at Marsilia. “Up to ye. I’d be willing to give my blade for this, but we’re running out of time.”

  Marsilia looked back up at him, her face etched with distress. “I don’t know,” she answered. “I thought since Astud suggested this it would be fine. If we take another two days before even returning to my woods, it might be too late for my pa by the time we find the dark witch.”

  Astud ruffled its feathers on her shoulder and spoke in her voice. “Too late. It would be fine.”

  Fjell gave the raven a dark look but Lady Isabel spoke before he could address the spirit beast.

  “There is magic in the blade, still. The Blessing of Equinox took hold,” she said. “It just hasn’t formed its purpose yet. It may be that it will do so as you travel.”

  “We have to press on,” Marsilia said quietly, staring at the blade. “We’ll just have to make this work with what we have.”

  Chapter 39

  Marsilia and Fjell followed Lady Isabel through the Keep and into the front courtyard. As soon as they came through the front doors, Lord Ailbhe took one glance at his wife’s bloodstained hands and rushed to her side. While the Lady reassured the elven lord that she was alright, Marsilia remained lost in her own thoughts.