Chapter Two #2
And I’m jealous. I want to have desires.
But I don’t. Hard to have desires without someone to enact them with.
I don’t understand how so many couples are marrying outside of their own species and kind! Wedding a human? How many magical beings have been killed by humans over the centuries?
And no, it is pointless to point out that it was probably the other way around in olden times when Orcs and gargoyles left invading armies a mass of stumps and skeletons.
Now, in the modern world, there are two options—peaceful relations or avoidance.
“No one said start getting hitched,” I mutter as I sort.
My phone pings.
It’s my mother reminding me that she emailed me Kelyn’s binding vows.
Saying Kelyn wants me to text her pictures of the work in progress.
Wants pictures when it’s done. Reminding me to make it as beautiful as possible and to make sure to include our clan’s name and motto in order to ensure the human groom would be properly bound, not just to Kelyn, but to us.
Purely because I don’t want to be disturbed every hour by an inquisitive (read: annoying) nudge from my mother—and God forbid my aunts get in on it—I decide to tackle Kelyn’s heartstone first.
I close my eyes and let my talons work. Held just right, they’re sharp as knives. Held another way, and I could change a newborn’s nappy.
My talons chisel and chip as easily as a human would write. My eyes fall closed and in moments, I’m just writing the vows that Kelyn wants, while imagining this heartstone is for my mate.
Like this sacred stone, unbreakable and true, I give my heart eternally to you.
From this second onward, your enemies are mine, my blessings are yours.
Take the shelter of my wings, I, the security of your doors.
For the strength of my talons, I ask for the warmth of your hands.
Where you rise, I will meet you. Where you fall, I will take my last stand.
I ask you to be my true love in war and peace, in want and wealth, in famine and plenty, and in illness and health.
With these words, we our souls bind. Let bodies, minds, and hearts now intertwine.
I’M NOT CRYING. YOU’RE crying.
“Ugh.” I wipe my eyes hastily. I can’t believe how incredibly easy this was to create—and yet it is truly my finest work. I flex my claws on it. Nothing—and I’m very strong, even by gargoyle standards. I whip my tail across it.
“Fuckin’ thing!” I hiss, hopping backward. “Not overburdened with brains at the moment, are you?” I shake out my tail, which feels like someone just hit it with a mace.
Yep. This is a real heartstone. It feels so perfect. Strong, smooth, unbreakable. I swallow hard. My talons itch to wrap around it and pull it tight to my chest.
“Not mine. Kelyn’s. This is for Kelyn. Keep saying it.” I exhale and push the thing away from me, onto my worktable. Squinting, I try to find some flaws so I don’t yearn for the damn thing—and what it symbolizes—so much.
“Well. It’s clearly not a proper one.” I work up a mild scoff. “‘Take the shelter of my wings, I, the security of your doors.’ He doesn’t even have wings for her.” I roll my eyes. “‘For the strength of my talons, I ask for the warmth of your hands.’ Ha! As if gargoyles ever needed warmth.”
Time to get back to work. I fight off a sudden shiver that feels very much like the cold a stoney creature of the night isn’t supposed to notice.
I suspect it’s just loneliness. And I wonder...
I wonder if that’s what’s happened to Kelyn, too?
Maybe she doesn’t really love that human, even if he’s lovely, charismatic, heroic, and knows his way around a chisel.
My body aches as I start making another small, delicately chiseled heart for Gloria’s order.
My eyes close as my talons move again, carving and kneading stone like a weaver handles their wool.
Wouldn’t it be lovely to have someone—anyone—to feel beside me in the night?
To feel warmth wrapped around me? To feel her stone form sleeping in the sun beside me all day and sense her presence touching mine as we wait for sunset?
(Gargoyles are asleep, but not entirely insensate in our stone forms, you know.
Especially just before sunset, when we begin to stir inside our outer shell.
It’s rather like being in a foggy dream when you’re half-awake.)
My hands move faster, my body feeling tighter—especially in one region.
I’m flesh right now, but one part is unexpectedly hard as stone.
Mating instinct comes naturally when a gargoyle thinks of his intended.
It’s not my fault I made a heartstone and now my body thinks my wedding night is just around the corner.
Or that I can suddenly only imagine how soft and warm the inside of a female must be, how her tail would twine with mine, how her breasts would press into my chest...
I swallow hard and look at the heart I’ve made, eyes popping open.
Oh. “Oops.” I swallow and quickly stamp that piece to rubble under my hard, almost spurred heel. I don’t know why in the world I made that particularly... amorous carving, but it’ll never see the light of a White Pines banquet table now!
Ping!
“For fuck’s sake.” I look at my phone with a frown.
Yep. My mother.
Ma: How are you coming with Kelyn’s heartstone? Have you made a start? Do you think you could mail it this week? Are you sure you left out the verse “Wing to wing we glide”? Because if not, it won’t bind properly for Logan. He’s not got any wings.
Genesis: No shit, Ma. He’s a hu
I erase that and try again.
Genesis: I put down exactly what you sent. I left out any of the traditional verses and used the altered version she sent.
Ma: You will try to make it to the wedding, won’t you? Please? I miss you. We all miss you.
I look up. I know we were all made by the same Creator, but geez...
I will try not to turn into a horrible old bigot. I will try to accept my cousin’s choices. I will try, I will try, I will try...
Genesis: I’ll try, Ma.