The Unborn
ASH
"Your incessant pacing is going to get us found, little Prince," Bregda growls from his place beneath the shelter of a long thistle frond. "And I would consider it a personal slight to offend her majesty so soon after her return."
"We're not offending her, Bregda! We are protecting her. How many times must I say it?" I hiss, eyeing the comings and goings of the woodland folk as they prance about the courtyard and stone pebble paths. The entire place is alight with laughter tonight. Every window on every tree is bright with a lantern's glow. Doors are open, homes are being decorated, giggling can be heard across every stretch of the land. It's much like Fury Rekyr, except without the corruption.
I wonder if my people will show my mother the same love and respect once her waking is revealed.
She was a good queen. A beloved one.
But not humble. Not like Daphne.
"I thought you said that after feeling the pulse, many would be headed here," I complain, scanning the grass that circles the Golden Oak for any sign of a ripple.
"And I thought you said you wanted to protect her, but instead of teaching her how to wield the sword of the dead so that she can protect herself, you seek to undermine her. To leave her defenseless."
Anger erupts in my body as we face off against each other and I growl, "She is the Queen of Hidden Fae, she is hardly defenseless."
But I will not risk losing her to the Meadow King.
Bregda snickers, attempting to circle me the way he did Ansel when we first arrived, but I am not some farmer turned pretend soldier and when he moves to get behind me I shove him with a pulse of dark energy that throws him toward the Golden Oak as I flip around.
"You're afraid," he hisses, his eyes glowing red as he steadies himself. Flashing his razor-like teeth in a macabre smile, they fire to life in the low light of the moons. "You think to keep her beneath you because you fear that if she does not need you anymore, that she will not want you anymore."
The truth in his words has my spine stiffening and lightning tingling at my fingertips, but when I call upon my power to strike, not to maim him, just to roast the ground about his feet, it does not answer me as keenly as I'd like.
Bregda takes a deep whiff of the air and laughs. "This is a sacred place, little prince. Your magic will be muted by the protections on the land."
Rolling my eyes, I quip, "Now who's defenseless?"
Bregda sidles up next to me, the pair of us eye the oak with tired sight. "Perhaps we should cease waiting and race toward the Woodland Keep, me in my natural form and you as my... rider." I meet his eyes with wild delight, leaving the shock of his admission painted upon my face. He shrugs and hisses, "What?"
I can't help but laugh. "You would do that? Let me ride you like a pony."
He doesn't smile. "I would do anything for my queen. No matter how," he send me a scathing look, "demeaning it might be."
I too lose all form of amusement, throwing out my hand so that we can link arms. "In that we are the same."
He grins, wagging his eyebrows. "So tell me more of this... Klyesque."
"Ahaha," I chuckle. "She is a fearsome, maneater of a female. Her teeth may not be as sharp as yours, but I assure you, she bites harder. And I don't believe she rides ponies."
His eyebrows draw together and if I'm not mistaken, he actually blushes. "I'm not a Goddess damned pony, prince. I am a kelpie. And I can take on any shape she'd like if she does not favor this one."
"Oh. My. Goddess," I hiss, dumbfounded. "You have a crush on my Captain of the Guard."
His eyes light up, chest puffing out and he rasps out, "She is your captain? Truly?"
I nod. "She is."
Then he frowns, "Do you not think I'm handsome enough in this state?"
I blink. "I'm not into handsome. But just out of curiosity, who's state... are you presently in?"
He flinches. "My state, fool. My faerie state. Were you not aware? We that are Hidden Fae have two, at least."
I am once again, shocked. "No. I did not know that. All kelpies?"
He shakes his head. "Only the Hidden. Such was gifted to us long ago, when one of the queen's ancestors fancied herself in love with one of my kind. She gifted us a great magic. One that cost her dearly."
"Well," I say, stunned, "imagine that. What, pray tell, did it cost her?"
He shakes his head sadly. "The life of their unborn child. For many do not know it, but the unborn of High Fae yield incredible power."