Episode 9 The Fates Must Hate Him
The Fates Must Hate Him
Elowyn gazes at Rominy and swallows. He looks so...free. And masculine. And utterly attractive, as if the heartlanding knew exactly how to present him to her to make her own heart’s pace increase.
If the heat in his eyes is any indication, her appearance is having the same effect on him. It’s no wonder, really. This gown is scandalous, even for an elf.
“It’s our heartlanding,” she says over the crash of wind and waves. “A private place that’s ours alone.”
“Heartlanding? So we’re not really here?”
Elowyn shakes her head. “It’s a place the heartbinding will send us where we can connect and find rest and solace in each other’s company.”
Rominy’s eyes travel over her, and his face reddens.
“The heartbinding is usually done to save a life, so the heartlanding is often a place of rest for the soul while the body heals,” Elowyn continues.
“But it can simply be a means for re-centering as well. From my understanding, it will always be the same place, and it will most likely transport us at night while we sleep.”
“Like a dream?”
Elowyn nods. “And while we can speak to others of its existence, the magic of our heartbinding won’t allow us to reveal anything about where it is or what we do while we’re here. It’s a safe place to talk or...or anything. But we’ll always be together when we’re here.”
Rominy tears his eyes away from her and looks out over the ocean as he grasps a rope above his head. The corded muscles of his forearms strain against the rolled cuffs of his sleeves as his sun-streaked light-brown hair blows in the breeze.
Whistling wind, he’s nice to look at without all those formal layers.
Her face heats at the thought.
“So what happened to us back in the castle?” Rominy asks.
“I imagine my father did his best to catch us. They’ll probably monitor us for a minute before moving on to perform the heartbinding between our siblings.”
“And we can’t control this? How long will it last?”
“Not more than a few minutes, though it will seem longer in here.”
Rominy glances back at her, and it’s impossible to miss the way his eyes slide over her before he looks away again. “So...what now?”
Elowyn’s gaze gravitates toward the stairs leading into the heart of the boat. “I’m not sure. We could explore.”
“You’re a curious elf, aren’t you?” His mouth ticks up at the corner, and she laughs.
“I’ve been accused of as much.”
“Lead the way, then, I guess. Unless you want me to go first.”
“Not a chance.” She hurries toward the open hatch and quickly descends the stairs before coming to an abrupt stop.
“This...is not a boat,” Rominy says from behind her.
Elowyn’s eyes travel over the tiny cottage. There’s a kitchen and a sitting area. A door to who knows where. Another door that seems to lead outside. It’s all cozy and warm as a fire crackles in the hearth.
“A home away from home, it seems,” Elowyn breathes. She continues into the cottage, glancing back at Rominy, who follows in his windswept attire.
Curious, she pushes open the closed interior door. Is it a portal to another location like the hatch on the ship?
Her eyes alight on a simple bed within a cozy bedroom to match the rest of the house, and she quickly closes the door.
So...not a portal.
“What’s in there?” Rominy asks from near the hearth.
“Just another room.”
With a bed. One bed. And there are no more doors other than the one leading outside.
Apparently, the heartbinding is trying to push them together.
Or something.
Rominy frowns. “A room? What was in it?”
“A...bed.”
Their eyes meet for a moment, and then Rominy clears his throat and looks away.
“Let’s see what’s outside.” Elowyn glides to the other door and pulls it open to reveal a garden. Just a simple garden. Lovely, but nothing special. She slumps a little.
That’s it?
Perhaps there’s something beyond the garden. They probably don’t have time to explore before the heartbinding takes them back to the real world.
“It’s beautiful,” Rominy says behind her, and she nods.
“Perhaps we can explore it soon.”
“There you go, being all curious again.”
When she glances back at him, he’s grinning, and her own smile grows to match.
Something about this place makes her feel...closer to him somehow. Unless that’s the heartbinding itself. Pera said it would draw them together.
She’s about to comment on the sensation when the garden and cottage transform into the small meeting room at the castle, and she gazes up at the ceiling as the chill from the stone floor beneath the rug seeps through her thin gown.
It’s disorienting at first, and when she turns her head, she sees Rominy lying beside her in his fancy coat and vest. The blond streaks are gone from his hair, which is shorter in the real world than it was in the heartlanding.
“Are you all right?” she asks.
“I think so. I feel a little dizzy. I’m not sure I should try sitting up yet.”
“From what Mother has told me, it should pass quickly.”
He nods. “So...your parents are heartbound, too?”
“Yes. It happened long before I was born. Before Tharios was born. My father was gravely wounded in a skirmish with...with...”
“With humans?”
Elowyn sighs. “Yes. My mother performed the heartbinding with him to keep his heart beating until a more skilled healer could save him.”
“Were they already married?”
“No.” Elowyn smiles. “Though my father was secretly in love with her. She was an orphan adopted into the royal family as an elfling. They grew up together, and my father made her his First among warriors—a general, I believe you call them? Mother likes to joke that he let himself become critically wounded just so she would bind with him.”
“They seem close now.”
“They are. We can probably get up.” Elowyn pushes herself into a sitting position and waits for the room to stop spinning.
“I wonder how Arisanna and your brother are doing.” Rominy crosses his legs beside Elowyn and leans forward against his fisted hands as if still dizzy.
Perhaps they should have waited a little longer to sit up.
“I don’t know,” Elowyn says. “Cerian is a good person. He enjoys his privacy, though. The thought of the heartbinding terrifies him, I think. But he will be good to your sister.”
Rominy sighs. “For her sake, I hope so.”
Cerian’s stomach roils at the words he and Arisanna repeat after his mother. He knows what’s coming.
And he dreads it.
The heartlanding.
Pain sears through him as the magic continues building, and Arisanna whimpers.
No one told him it would be this...intense.
From the corner of his eye, he sees Queen Yalisa move toward her daughter, but King Gerault holds her back.
It’s almost finished. Just a few more words.
Cerian repeats the Elvish words after Arisanna, knowing what will happen when he does. But he pushes through. This is his destiny. He won’t fight it.
Then it’s over. The pain vanishes along with the room as everything transforms into...a train?
Whistling wind, the fates must hate him.
“What just happened?” There’s an edge of panic in Arisanna’s voice, and her heart is racing. It’s an uncommon occurrence, but he easily recognizes the sensation.
“Arisanna—” He turns, and words escape him.
She stands in the aisle between the velvet-lined seats wearing some sort of elven huntress or warrior dress made of leather.
It’s black, and it straps over a single shoulder as the skirt splits high over her left leg, giving the gown a slanted appearance.
She carries a bow and a few arrows in a quiver on her back.
Her hair hangs in waves over her shoulders, held away from her face by a crown of flowers and ribbons.
It’s...not really practical attire for hunting or fighting. Did he conjure her in that?
Whistling wind, what is wrong with him?
Her large eyes follow his gaze, which he struggles to pull away from her.
“Well. At least I’m not wearing that monstrosity anymore.”
The urge to laugh surprises Cerian, but he suppresses it. There’s still a hint of fear in Arisanna’s voice, and she tugs at the skirt that covers...far less than it should.
She has gorgeous legs.
Cerian slides his eyes closed. The fates really do hate him.
“Cerian?”
How is he supposed to explain this to her? Perhaps someone should have warned her.
He should have warned her.
He exhales slowly and opens his eyes again. She’s moved closer as she eyes him with concern. And a thinly veiled look of...appreciation?
What in the Wildthorne Woods is he wearing? He was so enthralled with her—as much as he hates to admit it—that he didn’t even notice his own clothing.
He glances down, almost afraid to look, only to be met by his own elven leathers he usually wears in the woods. Though this version has no sleeves.
That’s not so bad.
“Cerian?” She runs her hands over her bare arms. If only he had something warmer to give her.
Then he spots a cloak lying over one of the seatbacks.
“Here.” He takes it and twirls it behind her, closing the clasp at her neck. It even has a split in it to allow access to her bow—though she probably doesn’t know how to use it.
She still looks stunning. In fact, the cloak only adds to the effect.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I have no idea why I’m only half-clothed. Or where we are or how we got here.”
He clears his throat. “It’s called a heartlanding.”
She frowns. “So you knew this would happen?”
“I did. Though I didn’t know the details.”
“You could have warned me.”
Before he can respond, the train lurches and slows, and Arisanna falls against his chest, elven huntress dress and all.