SPELLBOUND (ONC2022)

Chapter 5- Of Lots and Fate

Penny 

"Eithne, you must know that I only wish to protect you."

The princess is earnest, her eyes covered by a film of desperation that strikes fear in my heart. Her expression is intense, her brown irises anchored to my face, observing me closely until she is certain I understand the gravity of our discussion.

Nodding, I clasp my hands around her own, noting the tension in her muscles. Her fingers twitch beneath mine, but they remain put. I search her eyes for a clue, something --anything-- to hold onto as she wills herself to explain the circumstances of my illness, but find nothing except thin lips and drawn brows.

Seeing her like this, distraught, anxious, unsettled-- it causes my heart to still in pain. The Lovelish princess is not known for her nervous disposition. Her name is renown across the provinces of Lovely and Dolor for her valiance and skill in battle. Even arrogance is far from her, despite her being the subject of tales and songs describing her keen wit and glorious exploits. But fear? Fear is not something I was aware she knew existed. Until now, that is.

Her nose flares, tainting rose as a flush overcomes her features. Moving her hands from mine, she reaches to place her palms on my shoulders, bringing me to her, drawing my cheek to her chest and her lips to my hair. 

"Promise me, swear upon the Fates that you will return to me regardless of circumstance."

My heart skips a beat. Whatever the reason behind my illness is, if it causes someone as brave and impassive as Allura to angst, then perhaps I should reconsider my desire to discover more about my identity. Would it be so awful to allow myself to be loved and pampered by the heir to the Lovelish throne, even if I know not of my past? Truly?

I tug my upper lip with my lower teeth, chewing it lightly in thought. 

Can I truly be happy if I don't know who I am?

Gathering all the courage I can muster, I decide that I can not. One thousand crowns could not quench my need to recover from this mysterious ailment, to know why the words Penelope Sanchez were scribbled in haste on a torn piece of scroll. Shifting in her arms, I draw back, placing my index finger beneath her chin.

"Allura, my love, I must know. Could you ever forgive me for omitting your identity to you? Tell me the truth."

Shaking her head, the princess' flush spreads below her neck, tinging her skin a wonderful blush as she moves to grab one of my hands and brings it to her cheek, kissing the edges of my palm before kissing the rest of my hand and each finger with immense desperation.

Tears form around the corners of her eyes, spilling onto my skin, eyes glimmering beneath the moon's muted light.

"I would if I knew that the mere knowledge of it would tear me from my beloved."

My breath hitches at her confession, pronouncing the sudden warmth that possesses my heart at its ardor. I can not stop myself, I fasten my hands around her shoulders and bring her to me, embracing her while my lips begin their inexorable search for her rosy ones.

She tastes of bitterness, of harsh truths and inescapable fear-- however soft and yielding her lips themselves may be. Her tears mingle with her kiss, their salt a stark reminder of what I need her to tell me. Pulling from her, I rest my forehead atop hers, allowing our breaths to mingle between us, blighting the fresh, night air with our worry.

"The heavens can not keep me from you, Allura. The Fates may stall our joining, but even they can not erase my adoration. Please, tell me what befell me, I must know."

The princess nods, swallowing a lump of emotion as she hesitantly draws away from me. Her eyes glaze with the echo of her memory. 

"I met you beneath this very tree, Eithne."

I hold my breath as she continues.

"The night was still. Solemn," she sighs, "The stars knew what you were intent upon, and so they hid their faces from the moon and vast skies in melancholy."

Nodding slowly to herself, looking elsewhere but my face, she becomes silent, if only for an instance.

 "You had stolen your mother's sword as evening fell upon the province, a token from her battles from the younger days of Lovely's war with Dolor. You came here, your heart resolute as you hid yourself from the village walls and stood below the tree's shelter. You held the sword between your breasts, pleading to Hades below that your soul would not be punished for dying at your own hand."

My lips part, my eyes trained to the look of suffering on Allura's fair features. 

"It was then I chanced upon you. I too, was intent on escape. I was burdened by a crown and a greater responsibility to protect Lovely. That day had been the first of many to come in which I joined the field of battle. That day, I struck and killed a Dolorian soldier, my first and last."

I bite back a gasp, taken aback by her telling. I knew Allura was in the frontlines of Lovely's war, I am not naive, but to hear her tell me herself that she has killed sheds a new light on her turmoils as princess. 

"Guilt plagued my heart. It struck me that I could not go on enjoying the spoils of my mother's war. I could not return to a palace while my comrades in battle lay slain. War was too steep a price to pay for peace. So, that night I gathered provisions and stealthily fled the village. I intended to travel faraway, someplace far from Lovely and Dolor and the man whose life I so brazenly stole."

Tears form in the corners of my own eyes as I recall an evening a fortnight ago when the queen accused Allura of being selfish and cowardly in front of all in the dining hall. As newly named commander of infantry, the princess had instructed her troops to injure, never kill, for although Dolorian soldiers fought on the opposing side, only Fate had the power to take life. 

The queen, of course, was none too pleased. She claimed she could not believe the Fates had punished her with such a wayward child, not after all she had done for the Lovelish empire, after all she had done for her. That night, the princess' lovemaking was rough, her teeth painful and fingers strident as she took me in her own chambers, leaving behind violet and olive traces of her anger upon my breasts and inner thighs. 

Her mother, although capable and astute, can also at times be cruel and governs with an iron fist. To Allura's disdain, this approach to power often translates onto her methods as mother. My heart aches for the princess, she does not know the difference between mother and queen, as that boundary has been blurred since birth. However noble.

 It is no wonder she'd fled that night. The fact she so greatly differs from her callous mother is a marvel of itself.

"What stopped you?"

My voice is a whisper, my question empty. I know the answer before she even replies.

"I chanced upon you that night. I arrived just as a lone maiden knelt before this tree and held a burnished blade to her heart, nestled between the two most glorious breasts I'd ever seen."

I bring a hand to my lips, stifling a giggle as even in seriousness, the princess can not prevent her attraction to me from surfacing. I suspect she does so to lighten the burdens of her knowledge, more so since she's not yet finished her retelling. She sighs.

"I could not bear to watch someone, even a stranger, die by their own hand. Something about your air drew me as a moth to a blaze, something beyond your beauty. It was as if you sheltered something within you that called me to stillness. Something bigger than you, than me."

I sit in silence, waiting for her to go on and cure my illness by dose of truth.

"I stopped you from piercing your heart, and asked you to tell me what ailed you. I demanded it from you, as your princess. You, of course, refused at first, stubborn as always. I swore upon the Fates that I would finish the job for you if you did not elaborate, but instead of yielding, you said I should bless your family if I did so. 

I was so taken aback, I promised to tell you what troubled me, the Queen's heir, if you told me of your hardship. At my offer, you told me of a curse which befell your family upon your birth. A gift which stole from you your agency and happiness, and your family its ease."

Knitting her brows, Allura looks to her entwined hands.

"Your family had been chosen by the Fates to receive the Sun's gift, the one fashioned by the Heavens. And the lots all pointed to you."