Chained To Him [Editing]

Chapter Forty-Seven

The sun seemed to blind her even with her eyes closed, but Jayde longed for the burning warmth against her skin. It was hot for this early in spring, and the sun lifted green leaves of grass from old brown growth and drove the first purple crocuses from the ground. She was careful when she laid back in the grass not to crush any of the tiny flowers, and now she felt as though she were one of them, tilting her face toward the sun to receive its life.

It was all unfamiliar to her now—the simple act of lying back in the grass only allowed her thoughts to sweep violently back to her. There was too much about living that she had forgotten, or never learned in the first place. It was dangerous to hope that she might learn it now, that there might be some stretch of peace where she might seek happiness rather than survival. Happiness was a dangerous hope as well. The darkness in her was always welling up, just on the cusp of drowning her.

A pair of boots through the grass made her sit up quickly, brushing dried grass from her hair and skirt. Stepping over crocuses, Luther settled to the ground beside her and picked a bloom from her hair, spinning it between his fingers as he struggled to look at her.

"Are you sure you don't want to go down there?" How gentle his voice could be, even when the words ate deep into her. For a moment, she allowed herself to listen to the voices of the crowd in the distance below the hill. There were no separate noises, just a single roar like a wind tearing through Aésadel. On the hilltop, where the trees stirred with the wind and dry grass rustled in the undergrowth, it was a strange angry music.

"I'm sure."

He wrapped an arm around her and she leaned into him, realizing with a heavy weight in her chest just how long it had been since she'd sat with him like this and simply watched the flowers, the birds flitting through low branches of aspen and pine, a beetle making its way beneath the crocuses. Perhaps she'd never really sat with him like this before, though—perhaps they had only ever come to this place to sit with their dread and pretend a little while longer that they didn't have to face it.

"Luc..." Luther began, but he couldn't finish his words. She followed his gaze to the empty grave before them, shuddering with the knowledge that she couldn't say in all certainty that Luc truly was alive. But maybe he was watching the first spring flowers as well and wondering the same of her.

"He's alive," she assured him again, and she hoped that she was telling the truth. It was the only hope that she could hold onto now. "I can take you to him, but not just yet." It was difficult to meet his gaze, to absorb the pain in those eyes without being able to offer anything to remedy it. It was too soon to tell him about Luc. The way Luther and the other soldiers spoke of Greywood...the heat of the battle needed to settle first. Aylah had agreed to keep her secret as well, and together they bore the weight of Luc's identity. Eventually, Aésadel would recover some sense of peace. Villagers would return from across the sea, families would be reunited. The fields would fill with their own crops, and homes would be rebuilt. For now, Greywood would remain a ghost.

"I trust you," Luther managed finally. "And Jayde...thank you."

"Why?"

"You've never given up on me, even when you probably should have."

She rested her head on his shoulder and remembered how many times she thought she'd lost him, either to the Empire or his own drink. They were lucky to be sitting together at all. "I've been so afraid of losing you, Luther. And to sit like this now..."

"I know."

"I love you so much."

"I love you too, Jayde."

When the bushes rustled again, they both looked up. Standing in the clearing was Aylah, her face pale and stern, fingers knotted tightly in front of her. Jayde pushed herself quickly to her feet and tried to quell the feeling of panic rising in her, the dizzying urge to collapse again.

"It's done," her friend whispered, offering a soft smile. Jayde could only nod, looking between Luther and Aylah as the tears began to flow. There were no words to define this grief, and she was thankful for the silence that reined the hilltop even while the crowd below was swept in cheers. She pulled Aylah to her and soon they both began to cry, holding each other, shoulders shaking as they wept and laughed and realized simultaneously that they were truly free.

As they walked down the hillside together, it was as if a dense and invisible fog had lifted from the city. Jayde's gaze traced the edges of patchwork fields and crumbling roofs that belonged to no one now. In the streets, people gathered in throngs and moved in the disarray of a free city, a new city.

The crowd in the marketplace parted easily for them as they approached, and cheers gave way to a heavy sort of silence. Izzara and her generals stepped alongside Luther, and from the corner of her eye Jayde saw Kariyah and Derik walking toward them as well. They met along the row of long wooden boxes, each containing a figure bedded in golden hay with copper coins placed across their eyes. There were twenty in total, a neat row of bodies and faces that she recognized, that had enslaved her people and ruined her city.

In the center was Aragon, so horribly motionless and stiff in his final bed. She was glad for the copper over his eyes, but her gaze was still drawn to that face that she had come to know so well, that had haunted her for so much of her life. A dark red line drew up across his shattered neck where the noose had pressed, and Jayde found her fingers tracing up her own throat where his hand had once tried to wring the life from her.

Reaching into her pocket, Jayde withdrew the golden ribbon that he had given her in the garden. She let it curl across his chest, a glittering thing that would outlive his corpse.

"Close them up," she whispered to the executioners. Turning slowly to the crowd, Jayde glanced to either side of her at her allies, the men and women who had all lost a part of themselves in their fight against the Empire. "Today," she said, letting her voice carry across the marketplace. "Today, we are a free Aésadel."

She didn't expect the way the cheering crowd would draw both laughter and tears from her. She didn't expect the way her heart could fill and break all at once as her people surged around her. She let their voices consume her, wrapped herself in the arms of her friends and allies as they walked through the marketplace together again. Above, the sun beat down and drew sweat across her brow, and a warm wind stirred the smell of damp earth and mildewing stems of last year's planting. Wounded soldiers lounged beneath the trees while others danced and drank in the grass around them, and from the trees at the edge of town the cicadas began to sing.

The End

XX

The End. Well, not THE the end...there will still be an epilogue, and I plan to publish a few bonus chapters from different perspectives, including Chev, Aragon, and Maigi. 

Bless all of you fucking beautiful people. This story has been about 7 years in the making and my writing style (and what I want to write about) has changed a lot in that time. I'll be going back through some of the earlier chapters to do some light editing, but I have to say I am pretty damn excited to mark this story COMPLETE.

Thank you all so much for reading, for voting, for commenting your wonderful comments! I have to say the last 7 years of my life have been a shitshow at times and having the Wattpad community has been so huge. Thanks for everything!