The Goblin's Throne

Chapter Thirty Four: Scars

The too-bright sun beaming in through the windows of my bedroom was not what woke me the day of Midsummer. I hadn't slept at all. I had watched a bright day turn into the barrage of colors at sunset then fade back to a robin's egg blue as another day began, bringing with it the rising of the Sea's tide. Its waves crashed against my senses, tossing me about in its depths. It wrapped around me, pressed me down, drowning me. Though I struggled with all my might I couldn't bring my head above the surface. There was no surface to reach. 

The closer I came to Midsummer, the more difficult it became for my mind to turn off and rest. It had been months since Herod and Liber left with the rest with my allies for The Boughs to aid Knut in my rescue. Periodically, Aurora dropped by to let us know what she'd heard from them. It was never anything more than a reassurance that all was well and that they were working on a solution. A solution that never seemed to come. Days passed, then weeks, months. Looking back, it seemed like it went by in a blur but at the moment, the time had felt as if it passed at a snail's pace. No matter if time went by quickly or agonizingly slowly, Midsummer came too soon and the day that followed would mark the anniversary of my capture.

A year.

I'd been a prisoner for an entire year.

I missed a year of my sons' lives.

Magni would've been a year old tomorrow if he'd lived...

A year.

A year.

A whole god damned year.

These thoughts that reminded me again and again of my horrifying reality wouldn't leave me be. I'd missed so much and more things that were more precious than anyone could understand had been stolen from me the moment I was stolen from my family. These things I could never get back or replace. 

I laid on my side, holding my pillow to my chest in a desperate attempt to warm the coldness settling about my heart and guts as I tried and failed not to imagine what Magni would've been like now. I imagined a silver-haired toddler attempting to run from me only to topple to his knees and crawl onward, a giggling shriek bubbling up from his chest, finding fleeing from his mother hilariously good fun. I ached to scoop him up and kiss his chubby belly, his warm cheek, to feel living skin, to hear him breathing. I clutched my pillow tighter and sobbed until I couldn't stand to lay there anymore.

After cleaning my face I dressed in my usual gray uniform, combed out my now nearly shoulder-length hair and pinched my cheeks to get some color back into them. Then I meandered my way through the villa, my steps sluggish and dragging. When I came to the courtyard, I leaned heavily against a pillar, resting my head against the cool stone as I stared off towards the garden pool where the sun turned the water into liquid gold and a lone faerie lost himself in worship.

Naked, save for a single bit of cloth wound around his lower half, Lysander waded out into the water up to his knees. He tilted his head back and stretched out his wings and arms, basking in the sun's light. He glowed with blinding light, his power now at its absolute peak. His features were more striking, his eyes brighter, his skin warmer, his entire self more beautiful this day than all others. And more frightening too. At the end of his prayer, he lowered his hands and reached down to dip them in the holy waters and bring a drink to his mouth. 

As soon as he finished his prayers, he immediately sought me out. His eyes found me in an instant, shifting to where I hid in the dark shade of the pillars. "Good morning...or afternoon rather. You missed breakfast hours ago." He said, trudging from the pool towards me.

"I wasn't hungry," I muttered. 

"You've been saying that a lot lately. I thought you liked my cooking."