Written in her Stars

°☆•Two•☆°

Enya

Her thoughts were so preoccupied with Lear that Enya didn't notice the strange emptiness of the courtyard until she stepped into the dark Entry Hall. 

Normally, several guards would walk along the bright, sunlit walls, while a couple of maids would lurk in the shadows, waiting for her in order to escort her quickly into her chambers to help her bathe and make herself presentable to attend the pompous dinner that her father held in the Great Hall every night, where she would most of the times steal in, sometimes unnoticed, long after it had started.

The cold emanating from the ancient stones redolent of moss, horses, and even the people who passed through them daily, surrounding her like a tomb on all sides, made her shiver and she, with a click of her fingers, produced a purple orb of light and sent it floating above her shoulder, illuminating her way. Just like the coldness penetrated her body, dark thoughts which she always did her best to suppress during her moments with Lear started to seep into her mind like a tide, flooding away the last trace of elation which spending those few hours with her mate had caused her. She was back in her reality, in her other life, which wasn't as simple and pleasant as she made Lear believe. 

Enya didn't take more than a handful of steps into the purplish darkness before she spotted the most unexpected and unwelcome sight-- her father waiting for her in person in the arched doorway at the end of the hall, his tall figure silhouetted by the quickly fading light of the day from the second courtyard which lay beyond.

"Has anything happened, Father?" she muttered, inhaling the scent of the damp stones deeply, feeling suddenly worried about her twin brothers. 

She knew her father's changing moods and quick anger too well and disliked leaving them behind for however brief periods of time. Even though he was normally happy to take his rage and frustration out on her, she wasn't entirely sure that it wouldn't change at some point, that he wouldn't punish them for her faults, to make her suffer more. And yet she could not resist her pull to Lear and would leave her little siblings occasionally for entire afternoons with their nurse, hoping that her father would be happy with punishing her upon her return, inflicting pain for her disobedience in ways which left no visible signs to arouse suspicions of the suitors he obliged her to meet, no signs that even Lear's keen eyes could trace. And Enya couldn't tell him, a conflict between werewolves and magicians was the last thing the kingdom needed and Lear, with his father being the alpha of the largest pack, an equivalent of her father in the realm of the werewolves, was influential enough to stir up just that should he find out. The scars multiplied unseen upon her heart and soul and Enya allowed it to continue, she had no other choice while she lived under her father's roof, but it would soon be over, she would become of age and run from home if he refused to give her hand to Lear voluntarily... even though it meant leaving her brothers behind...

"Where have you been?" he hissed without any preamble, ignoring her question, disturbing her train of thought. The iciness of his voice made Enya's skin crawl. Something was different about him tonight; she could scent the anger, frustration, and the desire to make her suffer for making him feel like this emanating from him in waves.

"With Lear!" she called. Hearing the echo of those words rain upon her from the ancient walls lent her the courage she didn't possess, not anymore, and she hated herself as she felt her body shrinking with fear in front of him, trembling, covardly, wanting to make itself invisible, just like the sphere of light and any trace of magic she possessed flickered out of existence when she was afraid, when she needed them most. 

It was always the same, the questions followed by the punishment, and knowing what would ensue made it so much worse... And yet he knew about her and Lear, about their bond, he had to accept them, Enya asked nothing of him but letting her marry her fated lover and let her leave with him the moment she was old enough according to the kingdom's silly laws... King Magnus' laws may be perfect for magicians like himself, but they were wrong and unjust for both the non magical folk and werewolves, and their pure or mixed descendants inhabiting the kingdom. They were a minority but their rights and needs were equally important...

"I told you not to meet him again!" he thundered, scattering her thoughts. His hand vanished in her windswept hair as soon as she stepped within his reach, plucking a few leaves and stems of grass, then fisting around her waist-long waves, hurting her. "A future queen can't debase herself with a werewolf!" he growled in her ear, the stench of his rage taking her breath away, his arm lifting her by her hair so that only the tips of her toes touched the cobblestones. 

Panting with pain, knowing that she should just remain silent as she always did and suffer through the punishment he had prepared for her, she growled at him, unable to stop the unfiltered words from tumbling from her mouth.

"But you could have done so, right? This didn't apply to you when you were a prince... the future heir of your father's throne, and conceived me with a werewolf whom you never deemed good enough to marry... whose name you have never even told me... but whom you apparently cared about enough to take me in as your daughter when she died, after you married Leonore... who for many years couldn't have a child, long before you finally fathered the twins."

The feeling of triumph and release after those words filled with regret, accusation and a sensation bordering with hatred which she had kept inside for so long left her lips, was almost stronger than the pain he was causing her, but it was short-lived. For the first time ever he dragged her by her hair all the way to the tower where he usually submitted her to long hours of torture caused by magic, that power she struggled to master and fight because of her werewolf side. 

"Who told you that?" he kept asking her that night until his voice became raw and broken but was met with a wall of resilient silence. Long time ago did Enya learn to escape into herself from anything he could do to her, to shut her senses in his presence, and only give in to the pain he had caused her as she reached her chamber once he released her, and cry herself into exhausted sleep.

"You are never to meet him again or shift. If I find out you disobeyed even this time, I'll punish both of you. And it will be worse than anything you can imagine, Enya. I have other plans for you than to let you marry a filthy wolf! You are a magician!" he warned, his shouted words followed by another surge of pain.

The warning reached her mind through the haze of agony hovering around her, closing in on her as she dragged herself towards the stairs as he finally released his grip on her, and she replied in a voice so feeble that she wasn't sure he would hear her, "You can't hurt Lear, he won't let you. You can't break our bond, Father, together, we are stronger than you."

She walked heavily out of the room without looking back at him then, forcing her mind to keep the onslaught of pain at bay as she stumbled down the spiral staircase of the tower, then walked through dark halls lined with rows of flickering candles and motionless guards, and another staircase, this one wide and torch-lit, finally reaching the floor where her chamber and her brothers' nursery were situated. She directed her aching legs towards their room, only starting to breathe freely when she found them peacefully asleep in their beds, their nurse dozing in an armchair by the fire.

Without waking the woman, feeling her strength waning with every breath she took, Enya walked into her chamber, finding it empty. Apparently, her maids had been forbidden to attend to her tonight. But the good souls had brought her some food and prepared the bath for her, risking to experience the force of the king's anger upon their own skin. 

Enya shed her clothes and stepped into the cooling water gingerly, even as her tears started to spill, all the pain she had gone through threatening to pull her under, making her wish she would faint and only come to her senses again when she was healed and free of the memory of this night. But it didn't work like that; her father chose his charms with care to make her suffer the most for how her disobedience was making him feel.

No matter what he did, though, he couldn't break the wolf within her. She wouldn't obey him, she never had, she couldn't breathe without Lear...

As for her weaker human half... it was starting to feel like she couldn't go through many more of her father's punishments... without going insane.