Chapter 74
Avice
Three Moon cycles later.
Bramble scratched excitedly at the cottage door. Avice! he whuffed. Are you ready? Everyone is waiting!
“Then they can wait a moment more,” Ashling retorted, zooming around her head. “She is nearly done.”
She spun on her toes, tossing up the fresh petals woven into the hem of her skirt, and spreading her arms wide. “How do I look?”
Much had changed in Lamorna-of-Avalon for Avice, her family, and her friends.
Many of the villagers had left, Lucille amongst their number, while others – the ones who had spoken out in her defence the day she was brought to trial – had remained.
Joan adopted Epona and became the official messenger for the village.
Avice learnt half the Wulver alphabet, held two clinics at her cottage, and taught four lessons to Hati and Nell.
The human parents finally met their Faerie marked children, who had been brought above by their adoptive Good Neighbour families.
It had been a tearful reunion, but the children would have the benefit of two families, and – happily – all the parents and children would be in attendance today.
Today was a special day for Avice and Trewoofe.
“You look perfect,” Ashling explained.
She beamed back at him. “Thank you, my darling.”
Avice looked down at the off-the-shoulder emerald gown she wore.
It was secured at her collar bones with delicate ribbons.
The dress dipped low on her front and back, hugging her curves, and trailed down to her bare feet.
Her pendant sat proudly just above her cleavage, her raven tresses framed her face, and she wore a lush wildflower crown of lavender and primrose on her head.
Everything had been prepared for them by their friends, so Avice only had herself to prepare for their Tail Tie ceremony.
It was all rather excessive, but she knew they deserved it.
Avice! Bramble barked.
“Yes, yes!” she responded. “I am coming.”
She threw open her cottage door.
Everyone Avice cared about was there.
Humans, Good Neighbours – who allowed themselves to be seen by those without the sight today – and the changed children milled around chatting, playing, and generally having a fantastic time.
They had dragged logs into Avice’s garden and placed boards over stumps for makeshift tables and chairs.
The darting Pillywiggins had woven flower garlands through the trees and scattered petals on the ground.
A small choir of Caps and Knockers gathered at the base of a fruiting and blossoming apple tree.
They crooned joyful melodies that mingled with the happy sounds of her guests.
Her garden was a cacophony of scents: cooked meats, baked bread, honey cakes, and more fruit than they could possibly eat.
John and Nell sat together, without Treth, as he was still waiting for his Morgowrling to hatch.
Joan let Epona loose to graze on a crop of grass nearby.
Matilda, Emma, and Catherine mingled with their husbands and children, and braved chatting to the friendly Wulver.
All thirteen of the Wulver had come, and Boarden bounced between his adoptive mothers, and his birth mother, Matilda.
The Piskie Prince Consort brought up Hope and Mary.
Mary’s transformation was the most drastic.
The skull that hampered her breathing was gone, but her skin was still green, and her hands and feet were now webbed.
None of their mothers cared how their children looked.
They simply embraced and loved them just as they were.
Bramble butted her hand, breaking Avice from her study of the motley gathering. She knew she was so lucky to have them. Each had – in some way – changed her life since Hope had been marked.
Trewoofe had not yet arrived, and her chest tightened at his absence.
She insisted that they spend the night apart so she may get ready and surprise him with the gorgeous gown Catherine had made for her.
He pouted about it, of course. These days, he never wanted to be more than a few strides away from her.
As though sensing her anxiety, Ashling drifted over and perched on her head. “Do not fret. He will be here.”
Avice curled her fingers into Bramble’s fur. “I may have upset him when I asked to spend the night apart.”
His love is not so fleeting. It is more likely he got his horns stuck in his clothing as he dressed, Bramble interjected.
Avice suppressed a snort at the observation. Trewoofe did remarkably well in his human skin, but he much preferred his Knucker shape. Bramble froze under her hand, his nose twitching, before he pointed into the woods.
He is here! he whuffed excitedly.
With that, Trewoofe dashed into the garden.
His cheeks were flushed and his hair was tousled.
He wore his dark tunic, purple hose, and his feet were bare.
Petals littered his hair and flowers snagged in his horns.
His shell amulet jingled merrily as he snapped his head right and left, grinning at everyone who had come to celebrate with them.
Everyone silenced at his arrival. It was so quiet, Avice could have heard a pin drop. He was scanning the small gathering, looking for her… Then, their eyes met. His face was radiant as he raked his gaze over her. It was as though he were starving, and she was the feast he had been waiting for.
A blush crept up her chest and neck.
She took a wobbly step towards him.
Like lightning, he crossed the distance between them. She let out a bright, loud laugh as he swept her into his arms, and spun her through sparkling air.
“The sight of you…” he whispered into her ear as she slipped down him, “…steals the breath from my body.”
Avice landed dizzily on her tiptoes. Bramble trotted over to them with Ashling floating close behind. Trewoofe kissed the top of her head before turning to address their boys.
“Hello, my darlings,” he greeted, patting the Grim’s head and scrunching his nose at the Wisp’s flames. “Forgive my delay. I had a mishap with my horns.”
Avice, Bramble, and Ashling exchanged a look, and burst into fits of laughter. A line appeared between Trewoofe’s eyebrows, and he lowered his lips to Avice’s ear, his breath making her skin prickle.
“What is so amusing?” he asked.
She patted his cheek. “We made a joke that your delay was because of a ‘horn incident’.”
The lines on his face switched from a frown to a grin. “It happens a lot, does it not?”
“It does,” Avice agreed, and pecked his nose. “Are you ready?”
“I have been ready for many Moon cycles,” he grumbled. “It was you who wanted to wait so long.”
That was true. Avice had wanted them to wait. To allow things to settle and make sure it was safe to hold a gathering where humans and Good Neighbours could mingle freely. She wanted to delay until after she put Eostre into her slumber, a short time before her Summer sister would take over.
Avice had correctly sensed that there should be a buffer between the two Goddesses, to allow one season to ebb before the other could flow.
It was a cycle, just like that of the tides and Moon.
Avice knew that meant things would not be on a schedule like a human would expect it.
Instead, it would be on instinct, intuition, something she would do when it felt right.
While humans, Good Neighbours, and Dragons marked and celebrated the Solstices and Equinoxes, the Goddesses did as they wished.
Of course, Trewoofe had escorted her on the journey to see Eostre.
After she had done her duty, they confirmed the Birthing Tree and Spriggan were settling in well to Knucker Glade.
In total, they had been away for a week, as instinct drove Trewoofe to check the Sidhe.
When they had seen that translucent purple wall, it pulsed powerfully with magic.
Once their duty was done for this turn of seasons, Avice was more than ready to Tail Tie with her sweet Knucker.
Ashling floated into her eyeline. “Shall we proceed? Everyone is waiting.”
Avice turned to the audience that had been curiously watching their exchange.
“Thank you for coming,” she croaked. Clearing her throat, she continued, “My Lord and I invited you all to witness our Tail Tie. It is a Knucker tradition to show our love and commitment to one another. There is no priest or official, we simply state the words in our hearts.”
“The only thing that matters!” John called out. He grunted when Nell elbowed him into silence.
“Quite so,” Trewoofe agreed, before nodding at Avice to continue.
“We have our own words, and will say them to each other now,” she finished.
Trewoofe took over. “Then, we will tie our hands together. They will stay that way for the rest of the day and night.”
Bramble returned with a strip of linen bandage in his mouth – with all the excitement Avice had not even realised he had left. Trewoofe grinned down at him and retrieved it.
You need something to tie together with, he said.
Avice could not believe she had forgotten that part. “You are a good boy, Bramble.”
“Thank you, little familiar,” Trewoofe said.
Bramble and Ashling went to join the crowd. Her familiar went to sit at Joan’s feet, while she bounced Hope on her hip. He enjoyed all the fussing as Ashling perched contentedly on Joan’s shoulder.
Avice sucked in a breath, trying to calm her racing heart.
“May I go first?” she asked.
“Whatever you wish,” Trewoofe replied, handing her the bandage.
His smile lit up the garden, fangs glinting in the warm afternoon Sunshine.
Lightning sparked between their skin when she touched his wrist. She undid the ribbon holding his sleeve in place and rolled it up his forearm.
Avice caressed his raised scars, echoes of when she found him dying at the bottom of Knucker Hill.
Avice wound the bandage around his wrist.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Deliberately.
She spoke the true depths of her feelings for the kind, wise, sensitive, and handsome Knucker before her.
“You do not own, for I belong to myself.” Her voice shook.
Trewoofe cupped her cheek with the hand that was not being tied.
She drew strength from the heat that kindled between them.
“But I give you all that which is mine to give. I shall be yours in all the ways you require. My heart, my body, my soul. Our lives will be as sweet as honey cakes, and all the sweeter from my hand.”
Avice secured her end with a pretty, ornate bow. She knew it would not come apart easily; there was no chance she was letting her King go. Trewoofe ran his thumb around her eye, and then her lip, lingering on her scars. He took the end of the bandage which was his to tie.
He rolled up her hanging sleeve, crinkling the delicate green material. Then, he began to tie his knot. He furrowed his brow in concentration as he began to speak.
“Yours will be the eyes I smile into each morning when I wake. Forevermore, you will have the first drink from my river and the first bite from my hunt.” Avice grinned at his very ‘Knuckerish’ vows.
“Ours is a match of equals, and I will love you until the Sun goes out and the Moon falls from the sky. This is my oath to you, my beloved Queen.”
He completed his knot and tugged it to ensure its integrity.
“That is going nowhere,” Avice teased. She tugged on the bandage, there was some slack to the length that allowed them to move somewhat freely but still be close, pulling Trewoofe forward so their bodies were pressed together. “And neither are you.”
He traced his claws along her jawline. “You may regret that. You will never be rid of me, little witch.”
Avice lowered her voice. “What do we do now?”
Apparently, she was not that quiet. Matilda, with Boarden bouncing on her knee, called out from the small crowd.
“You kiss!” she shouted.
The humans laughed loudly and the Good Neighbours looked confused.
“A kiss,” Trewoofe purred, “is a fantastic idea.”
“Do not get too carried away,” Avice scolded playfully. “We have an audience.”
He waggled his eyebrows at her. “That did not stop us last time.”
Her cheeks burnt at the recollection. Swallowing down her embarrassment, Avice grabbed his tunic front and tugged him into a smouldering kiss.
His mouth slotted easily over hers, hot and eager for her attention.
He tasted of healing waters and new shoots, and smelt of petrichor and fallen leaves.
He gripped her biceps, pulling her closer, as though he wanted to press her under his skin.
Avice felt his tongue lick the seam of her lips, and a fang nibble her scar.
She pulled away, scorching hot, before they actually did get carried away.
She cleared her throat before turning to address the small gathering.
“Thank you for coming—” John started to clap, followed by Joan, then by all the other humans in attendance.
The Good Neighbours clumsily followed suit, slapping together their paws, claws, and hands.
Avice grinned and waited for the applause to peter out.
“Now, please, eat, drink, talk, sing, and dance!”
Trewoofe tugged her back into a crushing embrace and pressed what felt like a thousand kisses to her forehead. He pressed a final sloppy one to her cheek, before sliding his lips to her ear.
“Let us get honey cakes,” he whispered seductively.
Avice laughed brightly as she ambled behind him, the linen tie slack between them. She scanned the gathering as they made their way over to the feasting table. Everyone she cared about was here. Her chest was warm, as though her heart were a Sunlit meadow, and wildflowers bloomed there.
“Little witch!” Trewoofe said out around his mouthful. “These are your best honey cakes yet!”
His enthusiasm broke her reflection, and she smiled so wide that her cheeks began to ache. She joined him, breaking up a honey cake, tossing a crumb to Ashling, who floated beside her, and the other half to Bramble at her feet. Finally, she took a bite of her own.
Trewoofe was right, they were her best honey cakes yet.