FWFW 3 - 62

Some machinations of the Fae here. Does it seem too contrived? I know it looks obvious what I'm doing with regard to Bronwyn and Olivia, but I have a twist or two up my sleeve.

-Plum

Bronwyn pushed against the queen’s hips, trying to get out of her embrace, and though Aestasia’s arms were strong and resisted her at first, she felt them give and release, and Bronwyn pulled away. She looked up into the impossible perfection of the Summer Queen’s eyes and said, “What does any of this have to do with Olivia? What do you mean?”

Aestasia frowned, somehow becoming more beautiful with the show of emotion, and said, “Is it not enough that I warn you? That I tell you to do this in order to benefit your love?”

“No! If I can’t understand the reason, I won’t be able to live with myself. If it means killing Soft-fur, maybe I don’t deserve love all that much.” Bronwyn felt tears spring into her eyes at her suddenly fatalistic thoughts.

“I will explain then, but only because I favor you greatly, daughter.” She reached out a hand, and Bronwyn took it. Standing there, looking up into the queen’s eyes, she couldn’t help but marvel at the warm tingle of fathomless Energy beneath the flesh of those fingers. “When you slew the villain Thun, you corrected an imbalance on Fanwath. His departure from this plane and your emergence brought us into equilibrium with the Winter Court.”

Bronwyn had questions. She wanted to ask what the queen meant by ‘this plane,’ but she held her tongue, waiting for more explanation. The queen continued, “Should you slay the troll matriarch and allow Soft-fur to fulfill her birth-quest, it will be a great victory for Summer. I won’t explain how, but it is something that I want you to do with all my heart.”

“Then why shouldn’t I?” Bronwyn asked, tears slipping down her cheeks as she pleaded.

“Winter is aware of your presence here, and they have parlayed with me. They’ve shown me that they have an agent in place, working to trap the powerful human, Olivia Bennet. They intend to take her and twist her to their cause. Failing that, they will slay her in a drawn-out, horrific ritual that will ensure her spirit knows no rest. The offer was made: leave the trolls to their business, and their agent will withdraw from the scheme involving Olivia.” The queen spoke softly, matter-of-factly, but her words hit Bronwyn like a hammer.

Bronwyn dropped her gaze, staring at the ground, tears of frustration and despair dripping down her nose to splash against the rich, wooden interior of the Umbrilak tree. “Is there . . .” she started but shook her head. She wanted to ask if there was any other way, but she knew there wasn’t. She was stuck in some sort of a ritual, no, a game, that the Summer Fae played with the Winter Fae. “If you know Olivia’s in danger, why won’t you help her? Let me help Soft-fur, and you help Olivia.”

“Should I do that, what would stop my counterpart from waltzing into First Landing and slaying or taking every human? We have rules for a reason, daughter.”

“Isn’t there . . .” Bronwyn took a ragged breath, squeezed her eyes tight, brushed the tears away with the back of her hand, and tried again, “Isn’t there a chance Olivia will win? That she’ll see the trap and destroy the Winter agent? She’s strong, Queen Aestasia! She’s so much stronger than I am!”

“In terms of raw power, perhaps, but you have some growing to do yet. To answer your question, daughter, there is always a chance. Humans are surprising creatures—it’s one of the things we love so much about you.” The queen let go of Bronwyn’s hand then and reached up to grasp the sides of her head, turning her face so that they were staring into each other’s eyes again. “There is a third option, though it will likely bring you pain. Would you like to hear it?”

“Yes!” Bronwyn said, desperate for any way out of the dilemma.

“I can bargain for one day. You are of greater value to me than the Winter Court’s agent is to them. In that one day, if you can stop the trolls, perhaps by slaying their matriarch, then your friend, Soft-fur, will be saved.”

“Really? You can do that?” Bronwyn wanted to rage, wanted to ask why this option wasn’t offered to her first, but she just focused on the release of stress. One day—she could do it.

“I can, but there will be a price.” The queen’s words brought Bronwyn crashing back to the ground.

“What price?” she asked warily.

“I’ll be gaining a day while the Winter Court will take their agent off the board immediately. They’ll want a price. They’ll want you off the board for a time.”

“Off the board? This really is a game to you, isn’t it?” Bronwyn’s emotions were surging, and she couldn’t figure out how she should feel. She’d gone from despair to worry to euphoric relief to anger, and with each shift, some of the prior emotions lingered, and she was starting to feel insane. She reached up and pulled at her hair, her eyes red and strained.

“What the fuck have I done?” The thought came out of her mouth, and she focused on it—would any of this be happening if she hadn’t made a deal with the Fae? If she hadn’t agreed to work with them? Would this be happening if she hadn’t killed Thun? Was the Winter Court targetting Olivia because of her?

“It’s a cruel way to speak, Bronwyn; I’m sorry. We try to maintain a balance, though the heroics or horrors our agents, for lack of a better word, perform can tip the scales for a time. If I strike this bargain, if I allow you a chance to save the Urghat scion while asking the Winter Court to keep their agent at bay, then they’ll want a price—both of our agents off the board for a time, mine for much longer.”

“How long,” Bronwyn asked, her voice a bare whisper.

“Ten years. This isn’t what I wanted, Bronwyn.”

“So you already explored this option? You already made this bargain? You knew I wouldn’t be able to let Soft-fur die?”

“I wanted to come to you with options, child. I’m trying to protect your heart. I feared, no, I knew you wouldn’t take the first option. I knew you would rather lose your love than permit a child to die, even one as disparate from you as an Urghat. So I made the best bargain I could. Winter knows how much I value you, Bronwyn. They know I’m losing a great deal by having you leave Fanwath for ten years. Far more than they are losing, believe me.”

“And if I leave your service?” Bronwyn sniffed, allowing some of her anger to seep into her voice.

“Then I will lose everything. I will lose a daughter that I love. I will lose my ability to bargain with Winter in this affair, and they’ll run amok with their plans. I suppose you could still challenge the troll matriarch, though you’ll be much weaker, having lost all you’ve gained in my service. You could try to race to Olivia to warn her, though it will take days. Even this I cannot help you with—our conversation is made possible because the Umbrilak and I have bent time. Nearly nine days will pass before you walk out of this tunnel.”

“What? What the fuck? Nine days? Even if I agree to your ‘bargain?’” Bronwyn turned, pacing back toward the tunnel she’d come through, then threw her hands up and growled in frustration, turning around and stalking toward the queen.

Queen Aestasia stood still, watching her movements without any hint of judgment, and when Bronwyn stood before her again, she said, “Yes, Winter and I circle each other warily while we bargain. After you and I have spoken, the decision will be made known, and things will commence apace.”

“Make it two days,” Bronwyn said, sniffing and wiping her eyes a final time. She stood up straight and stared at the queen, daring her to argue.

“Two days?” The queen raised an eyebrow, her eyes unfocused in contemplation, but before Bronwyn could break the silence, she continued, “I can do that, Bronwyn. As a payment, I’ll need to keep you away from Fanwath longer, but I can arrange it. Why, might I ask do you want another day?”

“One day to kill this troll matriarch, and another to say goodbye to Olivia. Where will you send me?” Bronwyn almost didn’t ask the last part; she almost didn’t feel like she deserved to know. She was so angry with herself, so upset that her involvement with the Fae was the probable cause for all this trouble, and her heart was torn at the realization that her time with Olivia was almost over. “Over before it started,” she muttered as the queen began to answer her.

“If you truly wish to see your love again before you leave, I’ll need to help you facilitate that. I will do so,” she nodded archly, as if she offered to do something utterly benevolent and kind. “As for your other question, I will send you for more training, daughter. I will help you to become a great heroine, and when you return, the world will shake with your presence. Winter will rue this price they’ve extracted from us.”

#

“Well, Arthur, I wish I could say it’s been a successful journey for me and the Skybreaker, but it looks like we only were able to recruit a handful of your people to come and work with Lord ap’Gravin.” Gella stood at the flat area on top of Bronwyn’s Hill. He’d asked Arthur to meet him there, preferring not to get bogged down in a lengthy discussion in the council chambers. He wore his uniform and had the collar buttoned smartly, happy that the weather had turned and the sun, though high and bright, wasn’t doing much to warm the light chill in the air.

“I’m sorry to hear about your troubles, Captain, but, as I told you before, our populace is rather driven to create a successful colony here. We were selected for that purpose on our homeworld, so it doesn’t surprise me that most want to stick around. I’m sure you’d have more luck with the next generation! Why we have quite a few expecting families already!” Arthur hooked his thumbs in his belt and arched his back, stretching it with a slight groan of pleasure as he slowly surveyed the town—a proud father looking at his children as they built sand palaces on the beach.

“Well, Lord ap’Gravin is a very long-lived man, that’s true. His vision stretches beyond what I could imagine, and he might very well take you up on that. I, myself, will hopefully be retired before that recruitment drive!” Gella laughed good-naturedly and rubbed at his belly. He’d put on twenty pounds over the last month, eating his stress. Thank the Ancestors for magically resizing clothing!

“Is there anything the council can do to ease the burden of your empty vessel? We’re happy to entertain talks of trade agreements or delegations between your employer and us. I’m sure I could find a representative willing to make the journey with you. Perhaps you needn’t leave completely empty-handed . . .” Arthur trailed off, gazing over Gella’s shoulder at the long line of crew hauling crates, sacks, and barrels toward the Skybreaker’s berth at the northeast tower.

“Ahh, yes. I see you’ve noticed we’re taking on a lot of supplies. I’d like to throw a party for your town, Arthur. Not many of your people have been aboard the ship, though many have expressed interest. We’ll be hosting a deckside feast and gala in a few days for any of your people that would like to come by. How does that sound? We’ll be hoisting sails and heading home the next day. Come, Arthur, surely you’d like to see what our ship is like. From what I hear, it might not be long before your engineers make one of their own!”

“Hmm,” Arthur rubbed his chin with a thoughtful smile. “Why, yes, I think I would enjoy a tour of that vessel! I’ve heard good things about your kitchens as well!”