Duality

by Renee Wildes

  He raised her to her feet with a hand that trembled ever so slightly. “That’s the first time you’ve called me Father.”

  She embraced him in a fierce, lingering hug. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  He took a deep breath and held her close. “Wouldn’t miss it. Your mother would be so proud. I’m sorry she’s not here for you, lass. The carriage is downstairs. Shall we?”

  The open carriage carried all of them to the temple, where Aletha awaited them at the top of the stairs in the flowing white robes of the Goddess. “Enter Her house for the last time as maiden, youngling.”

  Last time as maiden. Dara shivered as she placed the rose at the feet of the Goddess’ statue and followed Aletha into the temple antechamber. Verdeen straightened Dara’s train as Pahn and Sirona lined up ahead of Dara. When Aletha opened the doors, an unseen female choir began to sing a joyful hymn a cappella from a hidden balcony. Sirona and Pahn strode side by side down the long aisle to the front, where they were met by Cianan in his new Lady’s champion uniform, and Brannan, equally eye-catching in a red to match the women’s gowns.

  Hengist presented his arm to Dara. “Shall we?”

  Dara trembled. The enormity of what she was about to do shook her. Wife. Mother. Queen. What was she thinking? She wasn’t ready for this. She took a deep breath and tried to swallow down the panic.

  “Easy, child,” Hengist soothed. “You love him. Remember that always. That’s all that matters.”

  Her eyes swept the distant front of the temple, and caught Loren’s gaze. Above the Goddess’ white, his familiar leaf-green eyes blazed at her. He projected such certainty in the rightness of what they did her fear receded. She nodded. “I’m ready.”

  They walked down the aisle, Verdeen carrying her train in another open act of defiance. There were murmurs from some of the attendees at a servant being part of the royal wedding party, but they were quiet ones. At the front of the temple, Loren stepped forward to stand on the other side of Dara. Pari, in gold to match Lorelei’s, helped a frail Cedric, in flowing robes of Goddess white that matched his hair, to Loren’s side.

  Everett stepped forward. “Who gives this maiden to this man?”

  “I do, as her father,” Hengist replied.

  “And who accepts her as wife for his son?”

  Cedric cleared his throat. “I do, as his father.”

  “On this day, Dara Kahn Androcles and Loren ta Cedric have chosen to set aside their childhood and take their adult places as husband and wife,” Everett continued. “As a gesture of this transition, I would receive their tokens of childhood.”

  Pahn and Brannan stepped forward with closed boxes. Everett opened them and removed a cornhusk doll for Dara and a toy war mare for Loren. He turned to the altar. “Lady Goddess, receive these tokens of childhood, and with it, Dara and Loren’s pledges that they have indeed chosen this first step into their adult union.”

  The incense-scented flames licked at the toys and Dara watched a dimly remembered treasure blacken and curl. Fanny used to make those dolls for her. She’d had no idea any still survived. She looked at Hengist out the corner of her eye.

  He winked at her. Mag, he mouthed.

  Her eyes burned. Dear Mag.

  Everett turned back to the couple. “Thou stand here today on the brink of adulthood, no longer in the care of thy fathers. Gentlemen, I dismiss thee.”

  Hengist and Cedric joined Dara and Loren’s hands, and went back to sit on their respective sides of the temple. Hand in hand, Dara and Loren climbed the steps to join Everett.

  The priest smiled at them. “I would receive their tokens of adulthood at this time.”

  Sirona and Cianan bowed and presented two more ornate boxes. Everett accepted a knife and a small bundle of bound, dried herbs for Dara.

  “I bring to this union my skills as warrior and healer,” Dara announced.

  Everett took a small, symbolic shield from Cianan.

  “I bring to this union my vow to always protect you,” Loren stated.

  Unless I protect you first, Dara retorted silently.

  Everett laid the tokens at the feet of the Goddess’ statue. “Lady of Light, Mother of all life, accept these symbols of Dara’s and Loren’s eternal vows.” He turned to the gathered attendees. “If there be any here today who judge that these two not be fully prepared for this union, let him—or her—come forth.”

  No one moved; even a sour-looking Alani held her peace. Everett waited for a count of thirty. “So be it. Henceforth, let no one act against this union or seek to unravel these bonds.” Taking a shimmering silver cord from around his neck, he wrapped it several times around Dara and Loren’s hands. “Two bodies, two minds, two hearts, two souls—two halves of a whole. No longer apart, no longer separate.” He looked at Dara. “Dara Khan Androcles, why dost thou choose this man above all others?”

  Dara had eyes only for Loren. “You were there when I lost everything. You came for me when I thought I’d been left for dead. I left my homeland, yet find my true home here with you. You were a shoulder to cry on and a strong arm to lift me up. You accept me for whom and what I am. You gave me belief and strength when mine wavered. You’re my conscience, my heart and my soul.”

  “Loren ta Cedric, why dost thou choose this woman above all others?”

  “I traveled the world in search of I knew not what, until you rescued me—from myself. I swore life-debt to you, but you are so much more than that to me. You see not what I am, but what I can be. You push me, challenge me. You are my focus, my vision, my fire.”

  Everett beamed at them. “Dara Khan Androcles, afore this gathering, declare thy intent.”

  Dara smiled through her tears. I’ll never get through this. Her hands shook. Her voice was barely a whisper. “I come to you as human and dragon, healer, warrior and fire mage. I’ll fight by your side against all foes. I’ll counsel you, comfort you, heal you. I vow to be an equal partner and helpmate in your home and your kingdom. I’ll honor your friends and your family. I’ll be a good mother to our children.”

  “Loren ta Cedric, afore this gathering declare thy intent.”

  Loren’s grip tightened around her hands. His voice rang with conviction. “Today you have made me the happiest of men. I vow you shall be an equal partner in all things. Let there be no secrets betwixt us. I vow to give you time to study and room to grow. We shall face all things, together, side-by-side. I respect your vocations. I take your heart in my keeping and give you mine in return. I shall honor your friends and your family. I shall be a good father to our children.”

  “Who bears witness to these vows?” Everett demanded.

  “We do,” the entire gathering answered.

  “Dara, Loren, with the blessings of our Goddess I now declare this union sealed until thy last breath. Loren, thou may kiss thy bride.”

  Loren took both her hands in his as his lips captured hers in chaste but lingering kiss filled with so much tenderness that Dara’s tears spilled down her cheeks. When he raised his head she took a quick look around. She was not the only one crying.

  “My lords and ladies, I present Prince Loren and Princess Dara,” Everett pronounced. “Wish them well on their life’s journey.”

  Loren and Dara strode down the aisle, with the rest of the attendants and family in their wake. They formed a welcoming line down the stairs as the guests began filing out.

  Cedric embraced Dara with tears in his eyes. “Thou art perfect for him.” To Loren he added, “I was so blind for so long.”

  Loren embraced his father with his free hand. “I love you, Father. Be happy for us.”

  As Cedric moved on to Cianan, Lorelei hugged Dara. “Welcome to the family.”

  Dara held up their still-bound hands. “How long do we have to keep this on?”

  Loren grinned. “Just until this is over. Once we get in the carriage, we can take it off. Everett shall need it back.”

  Hengist embraced his daughter and Loren in an all-encompass
ing bear hug. “Damn me, but that was a fine ceremony. Never seen the like.”

  “A blending of both cultures,” Aletha said behind him. “Goddess’ blessings upon you both.”

  Hengist blushed to the roots of his hair. “Did I just swear in front of a priestess?”

  Dara nodded, trying not to laugh.

  “I need a drink,” the king muttered.

  “I can help with that.” Lord Elio bowed to Loren and Dara. “I rejoice in this day.”

  “Thank you.” The old man wasn’t so scary after all. Visions of him getting drunk with her father had her smiling through the rest of the “Parade of Nobles”, as she called the endless procession of nameless faces.

  Soon enough, Loren led her to the carriage, which they had to themselves as the driver reined the horses through the city on a winding route to the palace.

  “Hello, wife.” Loren unwound the cord from their wrists so they could wave at all the common well-wishers who hadn’t attended the wedding. He snuck in a few chaste kisses to their enthusiastic cheers, as well. “I love you,” he whispered in her ear.

  “I love you too, husband.” Dara smiled. “Do you think in fifty or so years we’ll ever get used to saying that?”

  He laughed and kissed the back of her hand. They arrived at the palace and were greeted by their wedding party. The reception was in the same courtyard as Pari’s birthday party, redone in flame-colored netting. Flowers in changling-glass vases from Sirona’s glass-blowing factory adorned every table, covered in pristine white linen tablecloths, red napkins and gold-edged china.

  Dara had insisted on round tables, so people could converse with each other, including the head table, much to the staff’s dismay. They’d compromised with a larger round table with the party seated in a horseshoe pattern—still visible to the guests, but at least Verdeen and Brannan didn’t have to shout all along the table to be heard.

  Wine and champagne flowed freely, with so many toasts by everyone from Cianan to Cedric and Hengist to Lord Elio, Dara wondered at anyone’s ability to remain coherent and upright. She herself ate and drank sparingly, nervous of what was to come despite what she’d told Lorelei to the contrary.

  When dinner was over, Pari stood up at the family table. “My gift to Loren and Dara is a show to be enjoyed by all.” An enormous boom followed his pronouncement, and a shower of golden “coins” rained down on them from the sky. A colorful noisy hour followed, with hearts, doves, fiery “waterfalls” and the usual starbursts. Dara was touched by Pari’s thoughtfulness, and her mind flew back to the last firework display she’d watched. Her gaze met Loren’s. So much had happened in such a short span of time, it still made her dizzy if she thought too hard about it. “We started with a show like this one.”

  He raised her hand to press a burning kiss to her palm. “Somehow it seems fitting.” After the fireworks, the orchestra tuned their instruments for the dancing. Loren drew Dara into his arms on the dance floor for the first solo dance. If anyone watched, Dara didn’t notice. All she saw was Loren’s face alight with love. His arms spun her about the dance floor until she was dizzy and clung to him, laughing, drunk on pure joy. The family and wedding party joined in on the second dance. After that Dara invited everyone to join in. “This is a party, not a show. Everyone should have fun.”

  At some point, her ladies disappeared with the table centerpieces. The women returned but were very secretive about where they’d gone.

  The gleam in Loren’s eyes, every time she caught him looking at her, made her swallow hard and shiver with mingled anticipation—and trepidation. If she’d had her way, Dara would have stayed to dance every dance until the orchestra collapsed from exhaustion, but all too soon she and Loren were cornered by their well-meaning family and wedding party. “Say goodnight to all your guests,” Falak said. In an audible aside to Loren, he teased, “I am surprised you lasted this long. Sirona and I had disappeared two hours ago by water-clock reckoning.”

  Dara’s face flamed as they were herded up the tower steps. Lorelei opened Loren’s door with a flourish, and Dara stopped and stared. The room had been transformed with her own linens and curtains. The flame-colored netting decorated the canopy, and the vases of flowers decorated every flat surface in the room. Rose petals were sprinkled all over the floor and bed. The honey-sweet scent of beeswax candles mingled with that of the flowers, a bowl of fruit and the sharp tang of wine from a pitcher on the bedside table.

  “It’s beautiful,” Dara whispered.

  Sirona beamed at her. “Now you know what we were up to while we were gone.” There was a flurry of hugs all around, then everyone began to retreat back down the stairs.

  Lorelei was the last to go. “Be happy, younglings.”

  Dara quivered at the heat in Loren’s eyes as he drew the bolt across the closed door, locking out the rest of the world. He leaned against the door. “So, wife, you have me alone and at your mercy.”

  Dara gulped at the word “wife”.

  “Do you think they’re really gone?” She kicked off her shoes and padded up to him in her lace-stockinged feet, her train scraping the floor as it dragged behind her. “It was a beautiful wedding. Thank you for allowing the changes.”

  “The wedding was a reflection of us, Dara, not you or me. It was unique. Perfect.” He cupped her chin in his hand. “My beautiful vertenya bride. My life began the day I met you.” He tilted his head down to kiss her.

  His lips lingered. A feeling of warmth and wellbeing swamped her, and Dara’s nerves vanished. Her arms stole around his neck as her lips parted beneath his. Time stopped as she melted into endless tenderness. When he broke off the kiss, just to hold her, she fought off the languid feeling and dragged her eyelids open. “Am I dreaming?” she whispered.

  “If we are, I never want to wake up.” His eyes glowed in the flickering candlelight. “I do not know why the Lady blessed me with you but I shall thank Her every day for the rest of my life.”

  Her heart was so full her eyes stung. She pulled him into another kiss, fingers tangling in his hair. His hands slid down her back. She felt their warmth through the beaded material of her dress. She wasn’t sure when warmth became heat, when desire became need. But it wasn’t enough. She trembled against him, her body burning beneath his hands, his heart pounding beneath her hands.

  His fingers fumbled with the tiny buttons at the back of her neck. A sudden sharp image of tearing material and tiny pearl buttons bouncing all over the petal-strewn floor flashed behind her eyes even as he muttered a soft, incoherent curse. She jumped back and stared at him, blinking. “L-Loren?”

  Loren’s smile was tight. “Caught that, did you?”

  She nodded.

  “Who invented this torture device?”

  Her lips twitched. “I’m fine.”

  “Not for you, woman—me.”

  She couldn’t help it, she laughed. “Don’t you dare rip this lovely dress. Someday our daughter might want to wear it.”

  His eyes heated. “Daughter, eh? Wife, if I do not get you out of this dress there shall not be a daughter.” He turned her around. Sweeping her hair aside, he kissed the nape of her neck.

  Dara shivered. Each button that gave way parted to another kiss. Slowly he rained a trail of fire down her spine, with feather-light caresses and butterfly kisses over her skin. Her entire body tingled. “Loren,” she gasped.

  Soft, so soft. He kissed his way back up, pushed the dress down off her shoulders until it pooled in a heap at their feet. His hands burned as they glided across her belly, up to cup her breasts. “So beautiful,” he whispered in her ear. Wife…mine, echoed in her mind.

  She reached around to caress the back of his neck; goose bumps rose at her touch. Her movement lifted her breasts into his hands. The tingle sharpened as his fingers teased her sensitive nipples to aching points, and she shifted back against him. “Loren, please.” Shyness was the last thing on her mind; her fingers itched to touch him. She spun in his arms. “No fair.” She f
umbled with his belt until it dropped to the floor and she was able to slide her hands beneath the velvety white tunic. Hot skin and hard muscle burned under her palms. He went rigid at her touch. “You’re a bit overdressed, husband.”

  He groaned. His lips devoured hers in a bruising kiss as his hands caught hers. “Stop. Dara, you must cease.” It was half-order, half-plea.

  “Why? I like touching you. You like it too.” She struggled to free her hands. “I feel you burn.”

  His eyes blazed, and he swallowed hard. “If you continue, this shall be over afore we begin. I want you too badly, elingrena. You have some catching up to do. Trust me.”

  Her cheeks flamed at the memory those simple words invoked. “I do.” She snuggled closer, and his arms came around her. “I want my turn.”

  “Later. Bold wench.” His lips crushed hers again.

  Dara opened her mouth, her tongue tangling with his. Blood pounded through her veins like liquid fire. Her body flamed as his hands caressed her skin, slid down to pull her against him. Her legs trembled until she wasn’t sure they’d keep her upright.

  As if he caught that, Loren swept her up into his arms and carried her over to lay her on the bed. Dara caught a sense of satisfaction—his wife, in his bed—as Loren followed her down. Then her thoughts scattered as his hands and lips resumed their magic. His mouth closed over her nipple and suckled. A surprising dart hit her in her lower abdomen, and with a startled cry she arched into his mouth.

  Loren’s hand slid up her lace-covered leg, squeezed her knee, then up to the pale skin above her garter. He suckled harder, teasing the very tip of her nipple with his tongue. Her legs shifted as she clutched his head closer. Her body wound tighter, muscles clenched and trembling. Her blood boiled, heat poured off her as her body strained toward…paradise. His fingers brushed the damp curls, stroking wet, swelling flesh until he touched that spot of sharp fire which made her arch right off the bed. Her head thrashed, tension coiling as he quickened his pace. Her breath caught for one heart-stopping moment afore the world exploded.