Twisted Ever After

by Celeste Thrower

Lucan placed one hand on Ari’s hip and the other on her thigh and easily lifted her into the mare’s saddle before climbing up behind her. He pressed his legs into the horse’s sides and she sprung into a canter. They galloped across rolling green hills and through thick, green forest until they came to a river. Its waters rolled gently against the stones jutting forth from the bubbling surface of the rapids and Ari found the scene soothing. She slid down from the saddle and walked toward the river.

  “Here,” Lucan said after dismounting. She turned and he handed her a sack. “There’s soap and clothing.”

  “But-”

  “I will be nearby, standing guard. You’re safe.” He turned and trudged off over the rocky, riverside woodline, his horse’s reins in hand.

  Ari was nervous, being out in the open, but as soon as she dipped her fingers in the cold rushing water, her body began to relax. She found a deeper part of the narrow river and set the soap and the clothes near the edge before diving in. The cool water shocked her body at first, but by the time she resurfaced and gulped in a breath, it felt good and soothed her sore muscles.

  She scrubbed the lavender and mint soap in her hair and over her body and was stunned by the grime that came away in the water. It had been a long time since she had been permitted to bathe, and she never had the luxury of scented soap. Now that she had it, she didn’t want to go back to the way things were before.

  For a few minutes after she finished scrubbing all the filth away, Ari floated in the water. When she was a child, the Queen had taken her to the river often for several summers until the King put an end to their trips. Halldora taught her to swim, to respect the water and to love it.

  After Ari pulled herself onto the bank, she sat on a mossy boulder and let herself dry just as the sun began to peek out from behind the clouds. Its rays filtered through the opening in the canopy created by the river’s passage through the forest. Although the cold had soothed her muscles in the water, the warm sunlight relieved some of her pain and soreness as well.

  Once she was as dry as she could be, she stood and picked up the pile of clothing from the sack Lucan had given her. She paused when she shook them out and found a loose black tunic and brown breeches.

  “Lucan,” she called out, holding the clothes to her chest and trying to cover herself.

  He poked his head from the woodline and looked at her. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

  “These are men’s clothes, Lucan.”

  “Yes, I know. Put them on.”

  “But I’m-”

  “You’re no longer to think of yourself as a lady. You’re not royalty, and common women wouldn’t be trained in combat. You’ll wear what a warrior wears.”

  She was stunned and as he turned his back to her, she looked down at the clothing. As uncomfortable as she was with wearing men’s clothes, Ari found them to be quite comfortable. She didn’t want to admit it, but these clothes felt more comfortable and freeing than any of the rags she had worn before.

  Combing her hair back with her fingers after lacing the tunic and breeches, she called for Lucan.

  He turned and started to walk to her, but hesitated. His cheeks grew red and his mouth fell open. Ari’s face grew hot but she bit her lip and presented herself.

  “So, what next?”

  Lucan shook his head. “Put these boots on and follow this path until you find me.” He pointed back the way he had come.

  She nodded and sat down to slide her small feet into the boots and lace them up. It took longer than she imagined but the leather was soft and wrapped around her feet and calves like a hug. Still wet from the river, her black hair bounced against her shoulders as she stepped onto the path and walked into the woodline.

  “Lucan,” she called out for him.

  Only the chirping of birds answered her.

  As she rounded a bend in the path, something slammed into her chest and she fell on her back. Even with the wind knocked out of her, she threw her feet over her head and rolled backward before she could be struck again. She leaped to her feet and readied her hands.

  It was Lucan, with a staff in hand, his feet in a combat stance. “You let your guard down,” he said, the disappointment obvious in his voice. Hearing it stung her deeply and her ears were hot with embarrassment as she clenched her fists.

  They began their training again immediately. He attacked her with his staff and she danced out of reach, ducking every blow, unarmed. Then he ordered her to try to break through his guard and land a strike. It took everything she had, but she ducked a swing that barely missed her head and stepped into his space before slamming her fist into his cheek.

  Lucan dropped the staff and wrapped his arms around her. “Good, but now you have to escape.”

  She was so close she could feel his breath on her cheeks but she squirmed.

  “Just drop,” he said, shaking his head.

  Ari let her legs go limp and she slid from his grasp before pushing herself into a backward roll and out of his reach once more.

  “Good.” He nodded and rubbed his cheek where she struck him. “You’re getting better. Your footing is good in the forest. We need to practice in other places.”

  He led her back to the riverside and tested her balance on the wet, slippery, and mossy boulders that lined the river’s banks. When her movements and reflexes adjusted to the possibility of imbalance, he gave her the sword she had been practicing with. Now that she was used to its weight, he made her practice moving, striking, and defending in various types of footing, from the slippery boulders and the forest, to the gravel and mud of well-worn paths.

  By the time her muscles failed her again, she was more filthy than before she had bathed in the river. Lucan led her to the river and washed her clothing while she bathed. As they rode back to the castle in darkness, Ari relaxed against Lucan, his arms reaching around her on either side to hold the horse’s reins. His warmth called to her, cold as she was from the evening bath in the cold river water and the cool air against the wet clothing that clung to her body. He took the reins in one hand and with the other, he pulled her closer.

  “Rest,” he whispered, his breath warming her hair. She closed her eyes and rested her head against him. He kept the horse at a walk and the gentle swaying lulled her to sleep. Her father was there waiting for her in the abyss of unconsciousness. He smiled, and she believed he was proud of her.

  “Ari,” Lucan’s whisper woke her from the peace of her dream. “Don’t speak.”

  When she opened her eyes, the area of the castle where they had exited the dungeon was posted with armed guards. A group of men with spears and crossbows crowded beneath the torchlight of the once-forgotten entrance.

  Thankfully, Lucan had stopped his mare too far from the castle for the guards to see, their night vision limited by the nearby torches. He turned the horse east, away from the castle, and they rode through the forest until they reached a tiny, darkened hovel. As they approached it, Ari shivered, her wet clothes still clinging to her skin in the early autumn air.

  Lucan squeezed her gently. “We’ll be inside soon.”

  He dismounted first before helping her down from the horse. He put her sword in her hand before grabbing the rest of the supplies and leading her inside. It was pitch-black but Lucan knew his way. Ari waited at the doorway, fighting the shivering that racked her body until she heard the clicking of flint and saw sparks fly. In moments, a fire was lit and Lucan sat her near it before piling on kindling and wood.

  After dropping a blanket around her shoulders, he offered her bread. “I need meat,” she said as she chewed through the hard bread.

  “I’ll hunt in the morning.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “It’s too risky. Considering the guards at the entrance to the dungeons, I think the King is looking for you.”

  “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Stay here until the Queen sends for us.”

  Ari said nothing more, shaki
ng as she finished her bread.

  “You’re still cold?” he asked as he added another log to the fire. She nodded before rising to scoop drinking water from a bucket nearby. “You need to change.”

  “I don’t have any more clothes. We left my old ones at the river.”

  “Dirty old rags,” he scoffed. “Undress. I’ll hang your clothes to dry and you can lie in bed.” He pointed to the straw mat not far from the fireplace.

  “In front of you?”

  “Not a lady, remember?”

  As much as he might insist on it, she couldn’t grasp the concept. Especially as she had grown accustomed to his face and eyes, and delighted in the time she spent training with him. Her body felt different near him and she couldn’t deny that she felt a fire within her burning for him.

  “Please turn,” Ari insisted before unlacing her boots and taking them off. He complied, his focus on stoking the fire as she untied her wet tunic and breeches and pulled them off. She raced into the straw bed and pulled the covers over her naked body. Lucan placed her boots near the fire and hung her clothes over the mantle.

  “Warmer now?”

  “Not yet,” she said through chattering teeth.

  Lucan rifled through a pile in the far corner of the hovel and pulled out a large, black fur.

  “Bear,” he explained as he held it up for her to see. He brought the fur over and laid down behind her. She was safely under her own blanket when he added the bear fur over both of them and pulled her close. At first, she was nervous, unsettled by the stirrings within her, but his breath was even and his hands never wandered.

  The crackling of the fire drew her into a deep sleep.

  The next day, Ari woke up alone and was relieved to recall that nothing had happened between her and Lucan. As she warmed while laying next to him, she fell asleep and he had been the gentleman all knights should be. While she waited for him to return from hunting, she practiced with her sword, mindful of the limitations in the closed space.

  Her feet danced around and over the various objects as she practiced striking, blocking, and parrying. She was surprised by her strength now, as she was able to practice until Lucan returned with two rabbits. After cleaning the rabbits and rinsing the vegetables, she prepared a stew. While it cooked, he introduced her to another aspect of the fight: armor.

  The armor in his hovel was a spare set, his first, that he had kept for nostalgic purposes after the Queen gifted him a new set. Now, he helped Ari don the tarnished chainmail, although the fit was terrible for her body. When the armor fit as secure as he could make it, he took her outside of the hovel and they sparred until she could not lift her arms and legs. Ari finally collapsed outside under the weight of one of Lucan’s attacks, but she had winded him as well. When they finished, he helped her remove the chainmail and she limped inside while he carried it behind her.

  A week was spent training in the chainmail armor while Lucan, wearing plate armor, attacked her with a slew of weaponry. Lucan kept them fed with meat and foraged for root vegetables while Ari rested her body. Now, she could fight at length in active sparring with Lucan. Even he would be sucking in ragged breaths by the end of their sessions.

  One day, an older man approached the hovel on horseback and Ari was shocked to meet Lucan’s father, Sir Ulfrafn. He came with a message from the Queen and a set of black armor specially designed for Aaricia. It was a combination of plate and chainmail, providing the best protection in the torso and crafted to better fit a woman’s body.

  “Tomorrow, at daybreak, you must be at the lake. The Queen stole the King’s sword last night and returned it to the goddess. She wishes you to come in your armor. One of Lucan’s brothers will meet you both before sunrise so you’ll have your own steed.” Ulfrafn’s wispy gray hair belied his youthful eyes and powerful body. His eyes flickered between Lucan and Ari. “Have you behaved with the Queen’s favorite?”

  Lucan nodded. “Yes, father. I have not touched the Lady.”

  Ari raised an eyebrow at his use of the word ‘Lady,’ aggravated after all the grief he had given her about it.

  After the men said farewell and Ulfrafn departed, Lucan ushered Ari back into the hovel, forcing her to eat as much meat and as many forest potatoes as she could handle before insisting she lay down and sleep. He hummed at first, then sang an old battlefield prayer to help her fall asleep faster.

  When she dreamed, she was greeted by her father once more. Her mother was there too, but she always stood behind Ari. There was love radiating from her mother, and a fierce independence and will power that Ari absorbed like raindrops in a dry meadow. Her father took her hand and, even in her dream, Ari could feel her body vibrating with energy as if he were infusing his own spirit into hers. He gave her strength and clarity of mind. Ari’s face was wet with tears as she thanked them both and wished them farewell when her dream began to fade.

  Ari was more comfortable alone in the saddle than she imagined and her steed responded easily to her amateur cues as Lucan instructed her. When they arrived at the lake, the birds still slept in the trees and the pair chewed on a bit of soft bread that Lucan’s mother sent. As the sky lightened, more knights and a few ladies arrived. Neither the King nor Queen were yet in sight.

  When the sunrise finally broke red and purple over the mountains and reflected on the lakes’s placid, glassy surface, the Queen rode a gray horse to an outcropping on the water and dismounted. She glanced toward Ari and tipped her head before kneeling at a small stone altar.

  “Wait,” Lucan warned quietly. He was right to warn her. Ari wanted nothing more than to run to the Queen and kneel beside her. Instead, she waited as instructed, and it was well she did. The next figure to approach the altar was the King. He limped toward the Queen. His body language made Ari nervous, but he knelt beside the Queen and bowed his head. The surrounding knights and ladies dismounted their horses and kneeled as well. All bowed their heads.

  The ground began to shake and a roaring sound erupted from the lake. When Ari dared to glance, something broke the surface. It looked like a massive woman, though she was beautiful and radiated with light. At least until the rest of her body emerged from the water. The woman’s lower-half looked like that of an octopus, with many long tentacles protruding from her torso, whipping around and moving her through the water as she approached the altar.

  Its voice sounded like a whisper, but all gathered could hear and were shaken by it.

  “The usurper kneels before me,” she hissed.

  “Great Cea’tae, I was meant to be king.” Grindan proclaimed, though his head remained bowed.

  “Fate does not grant righteousness.” The goddess’s visage shimmered red as her anger rippled through the gathered crowd and the water rumbled. “Present your champions, Halldora.”

  “Goddess,” Grindan interrupted. “I present myself.”

  Cea’tae paused before unleashing a burst of gurgling laughter, reminding Ari of the sound of river rapids. “You are not my King, Grindan. You may challenge the one I select, and if you win I will give you the sword.”

  Grindan held his tongue and the Queen spoke. “Cea’tae, I believe I have a worthy champion to be your king.”

  “Present him.” The goddess’s hissing voice rolled like a wave over the crowd.

  “Aaricia,” the Queen called.

  Grindan laughed but it was not a sound of amusement. He turned his head to look at her and even from a distance his hatred could be felt.

  Ari flinched but she was too stunned to move, disbelieving that the Queen had called her before a goddess.

  “Go,” Lucan whispered hoarsely as he nudged her.

  Rising to her feet, Ari put one hand on the hilt of her sword and wove through the crowd of people. Knights were kneeling in the crowd that were five times her size, experienced men with better weapons and better armor, and she couldn’t help but be intimidated as she moved swiftly between them.

  As she approached the altar on the Queen’s side, Halld
ora reached up and grabbed Ari’s hand, squeezing it gently. She didn’t know why the Queen did it, but she squeezed back before continuing forward.

  “Present yourself,” the goddess’s hiss thundered above her.

  “Kneel on the altar,” the Queen whispered.

  Ari stepped on the marble altar and kneeled as a rumbling erupted beneath her. Two of Cea’tae’s many tentacles emerged from the water holding a boulder. Embedded within it was the sword of kings, Sunniveh. The sapphires and emeralds in the hilt glinted in the morning sunlight as the goddess placed the boulder before the altar.

  “Rise,” she commanded. “Pull the sword from the stone.”

  Ari rose, thankful her black helmet hid her face from the shimmering goddess. Now that she was close enough, she could see Cea’tae’s eyes, which were terrifying death-black orbs.

  She leaned forward and reached for the hilt, her hand hovering just above it for a brief moment of hesitation before she grasped the handle. An electric charge seared her hand and traveled up her arm before dancing through the rest of her body. Ari groaned against the pain but refused to let go.

  Opening her eyes as her body shook and the pain racked her body, she saw her father on the other side of the stone. He nodded and his mouth formed words, but she couldn’t make them out. Seeing him steeled her and she roared as she pulled the sword free from the stone and held it above her head with both hands.

  The electric feeling dissipated and in its place, a new feeling emerged: power. Ari could hear, see, and feel beyond her natural ability. The sword was light in her hands and her armor no longer slowed her movements.

  “Bring the first challenger,” the goddess thundered.

  Ari stepped down from the altar as Halldora and Grindan left the outcropping.

  The first challenger was one of the giant men. His silver plate armor gleamed and nearly blinded her with reflected sunlight.

  The darkness is your friend. She remembered Lucan’s words and knew the Queen had ordered the armor blackened to intimidate Ari’s enemies despite her small stature.

  The knight laughed as he approached. “It’s not fair to cut down a woman.”