Blood and Apples: An Annora Park Novel: Book One

Chapter Twenty-One: Drinking From Death's Cup

The dress itches like hell.  The heavy brocade chafes and it weighs like a million tons.  All I want to do right now is tear the damn thing off and curse up a blue streak...but I had promised...I had made certain promises to the annoying arrogant Fairy King.  And one of those promises...that I'd wear the fucking stupid clothes he provided for me.
   "You look...I don't even have words for how beautiful you look, my beloved," Chamuel says, and his tone is reverent.
   "This dress is stupid, Chamuel, it's fucking stupid.  It has a Goddamn train for heavens sake," and I ignore his every wince at my words.  "I hate it.  I hate it so much, you can't even know how much I hate it."
   "Actually, I can.  I can feel what you're feeling, my amour, as well as hear what you're thinking."
   Wait.  What the heck? He could feel me now? Was that possible? Well, clearly it was.  "Wait, how's the possible, Chamuel.  We haven't finalized the link.  I thought we needed to do that before well, everything else."
   "The only explanation I have is that our soul link is stronger than anyone anticipated.  The more time we spend together, the closer the ties bind us.  Once we finalize the link it will be set in stone.  But for now, for now I can hear and feel you, my beloved."
   "Greeeaaat, so you know that I detest this awful dress...and...and..."I point to my head.  "What's with this crap on my head?" I frown, "I'm not a freaking Queen."
   "Yet, Chamuel says, and I give him a dirty look.
   "Why the fuck do I need a freaking crown."
   "It's not a crown, beloved, it's a circlet."
   "Circlet Shmurclet, it sure looks like a crown to me."  And it sure the hell felt like one too.
   Chamuel laughs then.  "Trust me, when Terrenel puts a crown upon your head it will be one of such brilliance it will put all other crowns in the history of the Fae to shame.  What you are wearing is a circlet, Fae nobility wear them.  It denotes their station.  Yours is ornate because you are royalty whether you accept that fact or not, amour."
   "I look ridiculous, Chamuel."
   "No, beloved, you look like the Queen that you are."
   "Just stop it, stop with the Queen shit right now, I cannot handle it." And I really couldn't.
   "And how do you know you look ridiculous? Have you even seen yourself, amour?"
   Hmmm...now that he'd mentioned it, I hadn't seen myself.  I hadn't actually seen myself once since stepping into this crazy Fairy Land.
"You haven't, have you, my beloved." He holds out his hand. "Come...come with me." I take his hand and let him lead me. We're halfway down another hallway from hell (these hallways are ridiculously long) when we run smack dab into Walker, who takes one look at me and starts to laugh so hard tears begin to run down his face.
"Oh...oh...oh my darling girl," he's clutching his stomach as tears continue to run down his face, "The 16th century called, they...they...they want their clothes back."
Oh Hell no! I begin to tug on Chamuel's hand to lead me back the other direction, but he holds firm.
"She looks divine, Romanoff. You have no idea what you speak of."
Walker snorts and wipes some tears from his eyes. "She looks like one of Henry the 8th's rejects wives. What the hell is she wearing? And is that a fucking crown on her head? Why in all that's unholy does she need a crown? She's not a fucking Queen yet."
"You see!" I shout at Chamuel. "See! I told you so! It's a freaking crown. And...and I look stupid. I knew I looked stupid. But no, you just had to go and pull me out of that massive room I was happy to hide in to drag me around this...this...this..."
"Castle," Chamuel says dryly.
"Yes, this stupidly huge castle, where of course we'd run into HIM," And I point at Walker angrily, "And yeah, of course he'd just have to confirm what I already know—that I look like a total idiot in this Medieval monstrosity."
"You look glorious, amour. You look like a Queen. And Romanoff, we've already established that he has no taste whatsoever. I mean, my beloved, look at how he lives...in that Haunted House of horrors."
Chamuel did sort of have a point there. But still... "I don't like it. I don't like it one bit, Chamuel," I say.
"You promised Terrenel."
"Yeah, and I'm already fucking regretting it," I mutter under my breath.
"Amour..."
"Come on darling girl," Walker pulls my hand out of Chamuel's and begins to draw me down the hall at a breakneck pace. I struggle to keep up, the train on this dress is ridiculous. When we come to the end of the hall there are two large double doors which Walker pushes open, dragging me through.
"Wow," I murmur. The room is beautiful. It's huge, like everything else in this massive place, and shines with gold from almost every conceivable surface. There are great, what appear to be chandeliers, hanging from the massive ceilings and mirrors everywhere. It's like the mirror room in Versailles just even more impressive.
"Look, darling girl, just look."
"Romanoff...." Chamuel says in a warning like voice. But I'm already shaking off Walker's hand and walking up to one of the full length floor to ceiling mirrors.
"OH MY GOD!" I scream. "OH MY GOD!!"
"Shhhh....shhhhh...be at ease, amour."
"OH MY GOD!" I shriek again, even louder this time. "Oh my...oh my...I...I..." my head begins to spin, "I...I...I...can't breathe." I try to take great gulps of air, but find I can barely get a breath into my air starved lungs. "I...I...I...can't...I can't..." And suddenly both Chamuel and Walker are beside me, one on either side. Both of them holding me.
"Breathe amour. You can do this. Take deep breaths, you are all right my beloved. You are just fine. Breathe in, and breathe out. You are fine."
"Birdie is right, darling girl, just breathe. You've got this. And sorry if I sprung that on you a little suddenly, just thought you ought to know. And everyone just beats around the fucking bush, it's fucking annoying. But you've got to breathe, Annora darling. You're fine. You're better than fine. You're a total badass remember. A little change in appearance doesn't change that fact, darling girl."
"A...a...a...little..." and I'm still light headed, "...little change in appearance?" I lean into the both of them. "...Chamuel...Walker...I...I...I'm not me."
"Now don't be ridiculous, darling girl. Of course you're you. It's like I said, ombré white hair and weird eyes don't a personality change. You are still you, just a slightly weird ass looking you."
And at that I laugh a slightly hysterical laugh.
"Romanoff is right, although I would have put it differently, amour. There is nothing weird about you, not even your appearance. You are absolutely beautiful, so beautiful in fact, that it almost hurts to look at you, my beloved."
"Chamuel, I...I have..."
"Goddess blessed features, my beloved."
"My hair...it's...it's...so white..." Somehow I hadn't expected it to be so damn white.  Half of my long hair was freaking white.  I looked like a grandma.
"Silver, your hair is silver, beloved." And Chamuel laughs.  "And you most certainly do not resemble a grandmother."
"And my eyes...they're so...so..."
"Stunning. They are stunning, amour. Do you see what I mean, my beloved. Do you see the swirling cosmos in your eyes?"
I move closer to the mirror and gasp. Just like the Warrior King Terrenel my eyes are a multitude of different colors, blues, purple, green, gold, midnight, amber, and indeed there are twinkling stars winking in and out of them, but most strange are the swirling streaks of silver that seem to dance within my weird orbs—cosmos—OH MY GOD.
"No...shhhhh...you will not panic again, amour. You have the eyes of the universe, and they are beautiful, just like you are." Chamuel hugs me closer, and I forget my anger for a minute and allow myself to feel comfort.  "This...this is how He saw you, and how She designed you.  You are and ever will be a miracle of true creation."
   I frown and step out of his hold and closer to the mirror again.  I pull strands of my long black and silver hair forward and make a moue of distaste.  "Soooo...He, being the big guy saw this, and She...being the Goddess 'designed' me this way?  Designed...like some weird ass test tube baby."
   "No, you were born in a womb, and grew up just like—"
   "Hmmmm....yeah...but I was a 'creation' something thought up and then set into place." I counter.
   "Uh-hoooo..." Walker laughs, and I see his reflection grinning in the large ass mirror.  "I recognize that look on her face...and maybe we'd better get outta the way, birdie."
   "I told you to stop calling me that," Chamuel says.
   "It's your funeral.  Don't say I didn't warn you!" Walker snaps back right before I execute (heavy ass dress and all) a perfect roundhouse kick right to the mirror.  I watch, smile growing, as it cracks and pieces begin to reign all over the gold floor.  I then move onto the the next mirror and the next doing much the same, until there is glass littered across the entire surface of the ridiculous room, and only when I'm heaving from the exertion of it all do I tear the stupid crown off of my head and toss it on a nearby pile of glass. 
   "Walker," I snap.
   "Yes darling girl."
   "I need a knife."
   "What in the Heavens do you need—"
   I cut Chamuel off with one pointed look and watch satisfied when he snaps his mouth shut.  Walker doesn't hesitate but walks over to me and hands me a wicked looking dagger.  I test the weight and smile.  "Good weight."
   "Yes, it is," Walker says, smile growing, it's like he knows exactly what I'm going to do.
  I take the dagger and begin to saw through the front of the dress.  When I've cut through a suitable amount, I take both sides of the heavy fabric and begin to rip it.  When it hangs in ribbons, and is torn beyond repair, I step out of the remains of the ruined gown.
   "I take it there is a story a to why my mirror room is ruined and my banrigh mo ghraidh, is standing in only her undergarments?" Terrenel is suddenly there, in the room, I hadn't even heard him arrive.  Sneaky, sneaky Fairy boy.
   I toss the dagger back at Walker who catches it expertly, and sheaths it.
   "Yup," I say, popping the P.  "Thought I'd do a little redecorating, you know," I quip, "...Oh and your clothes suck, so I took them off."
   "Redecorating..." Terrenel says slowly.  "And...the clothes I chose for you—"
   "Super duper suck, oh great majesty," I say angrily.
   "You said that you would—"
   "Did I swear on the Bible?" I snap
   "Well, no."
   "Did I swear on this Goddess you worship so much?"
   "Heavens no."
   "Exactly.  I said I would, but I didn't swear I would, did I?" I know it's low of me.  And I don't like making promises I have no intention of keeping.  But all this was too much, and the clothes well, they didn't help matters any.
   Terrenel's eyes narrow dangerously.  "Well you most certainly cannot walk about in your undergarments, no matter how fetching you look in them, milis."
   I do a series of perfect pirouettes—ignoring the stunned looks and gasps from the men around me—remember—more than a pretty face here—and when I stop I smile and shrug, "Whyever not? What's wrong with what I'm wearing.  Hell, it looks like an old fashioned night gown and it's light and not itchy like that stupid dress you had me wearing."
   "Because...because..."
   "Aweeeee poor king, is the Oh So Great One, at a loss for words?" I snap at him.
   "It's a shift!" He roars finally.
   "What's a shift, like a shift change, like at the station when—"
   "—NO!" Terrenel shouts, and a bit of color suffuses his pale porcelain skin.  "What you are wearing right now, it's a shift.  You cannot walk around in your shift, milis.  You might as well be walking around in your human undergarments for all that you're wearing."
   "Oh no, believe me my human undergarments as you call them, are much, much, tinier than this thing," And I think back to my black and red lacy bra and thong I have back in my apartment and hear Chamuel groan, actually groan.  Ooopppsss.....that's right...he knew exactly what I was thinking...could he "see" too? Now that was a rather unnerving thought.
"You are uncouth and vulgar, and completely inappropriately dressed to go—" His voice trails off, he must see the look that I KNOW is on my face right now.
Walker laughs. "And now...now you're going to see why we love our darling girl here so much..."
I advance on the arrogant asshole king. When I'm standing but a mere inch or two away from him I begin to poke him in his chest, "And you, are a complete and utter shithead, Mr. Shithead. An arrogant, egotistical, sonofabitch that I'd rather fight than ever even consider marrying. God, marrying you would be like swimming and wading through the seven circles of fucking Hell. I think I'd rather face Cerberus himself, Hell, I'd rather face Lucifer than ever tie the knot with you, you shithead."
Terrenel appears confused. He looks over at Chamuel and asks. "What is a shithead?" Walker throws back his head and laughs uproariously.
"You, you're a shithead. And I have to say I completely agree with my darling girl. With the exception of the bloodletting. You are pretty much a sonofabitch."
"Do you understand now, Mr. Oh Great and Mighty King? Have I made myself clear?" I continue to poke his chest. "You and I...you and I we're NEVER going to happen. I'd rather tie myself to Lucifer himself than ever get it on with you."
"Now....amour, do not say things that you'll—"
"Regret, regret, regret, yes, you've said this before, you've said his a hundred times before, Chamuel. Don't say things you're going to regret, Annora beloved. Don't say things you don't mean, Annora my love. Don't say things that you'll come to wish you hadn't said...well, you know what, Chamuel. Fuck you. Fuck you and the freaking wings you flew in on." I turn to Walker then when I realize he's still laughing. "Ohhhh and you, you think this is all one big ol' joke, you psychotic Warlock? Well you can go and fuck yourself too!"
"I'd rather fuck you, darling girl," Walker quips. "You're absolutely glorious like this."
I give him the middle finger and turn back to the king who is staring at me like he's never seen me before—perhaps he hasn't. But this, this is me. the REAL me.
"You know what?" I snap, "The hell with all of this. I'm going back to Earth. I'm going back to Garrett, to my station house, to my captain and I'll figure this out without the three of you idiots. I don't need you. I've never needed you. I was doing just fine without you three fuckfaces in my life and then, then...the second you dropped in my life went to total and utter shit." I begin to turn away from Terrenel when he grabs my arm. "You're going to want to let go of me, like, right now, oh great and stupid majesty." I spear him with angry eyes. "I'm really, really, pissed right now, and I won't be held accountable for what I do if you don't let me the fuck go."
Terrenel leans forward until he's practically in my face and I can feel his sweet breath caressing my skin. "Never," he breathes. "I will never let you go, banrigh ghaisgich mo ghraidh."
"What did the big ape just say, Chamuel," I ask.
"He called you his beloved warrior queen," Chamuel answers dryly.
"Wow, you just really don't get it, do you?"
"The part where I do not get what I want? No, I do not get it," Terrenel replies, tightening his grip on my arm. "You. Are. Mine, mo ghraidh. You were, I see it now, always meant to be mine. I despaired...for so long I'd despaired, for me, for my people, for our race. And now...now I see that the Goddess had her plans all along. It was a test. And I almost failed. But here...here you are now, standing like the true Warrior Queen you were and are meant to be. Mine. You are mine, mo ghraidh, and I do not let go of what is mine."
"Well Mr. Neanderthal, you're gonna have to let go of this gal, because I don't fucking belong to anyone." I tug at my arm and give him an annoyed look when he refuses to release me. "Let go!"
Terrenel laughs, he actually laughs, and says, "Never," right before he plants a big fat ol' kiss on my stunned lips.