The Vampire & Her Witch

"Easy lass," Sybyll said, tapping the table with a loud -THUNK- to get the Oak Witch’s attention. "I know it’s rotten. Me own uncle drank ’imself ta death ’fore I could kill ’im," she said bitterly. "He didn’a suffer enough by half ’fore he died. But dead is dead, an’ dead by ’is own son’s hand is a bad way ta go. Nightweaver venom isn’a a kind way ta go neither," she reminded the brooding witch.

"Virve," Heila said, reaching out gently to rest a hand on the bearish woman’s furry forearm. "He might linger on for months if the humans send their miracle workers to care for him," she offered, even though the odds were poor for a man of Bors Lothian’s advancing age. "And Dame Sybyll is right, the poison will only grow more painful once the madness takes hold. Even if he doesn’t fall under your claws he, he won’t meet a peaceful end. He’ll suffer for what he did."

"Aarrgg, I know," Virve grumbled. "I want to tear him limb from limb for what he did, but I’m not so cruel that I’d poison him to watch him writhe for months. I just wish I could look into his eyes once before he dies. I want him to regret tearing my family apart with his petty war for gold and jewels... But there are others still with our blood on their hands," she said as she clenched her fists. "I’ll just have to make do with them."

"You’ll get your chance for that, Virve," Ashlynn said as she strode into the great hall. "And soon."

Everyone sitting around the table stood as Ashlynn strode toward a seat at the front of the large square table. For Heila and Virve, it was the first time they’d seen her since Ashlynn had learned the truth of who betrayed her and for others, they hadn’t laid eyes on the powerful Mother of Trees since the betrothal ceremony when she’d stood before them as a radiant maiden filled with love for Lady Nyrielle.

But the Ashlynn who entered the great hall now was neither the vision of love and devotion they’d seen a week ago, nor the shattered and distraught woman who had brought down a tempest in her grief and outrage at her sister’s betrayal. Instead, she walked with a heavy, determined gait, as if she were a mighty cypress tree that had hardened her layers of defenses in order to weather the storm.

"Your Dominion," Thane said formally, saluting with his hand forming a claw over his heart in the Eldritch style as he bowed. Around the table, the four commanders and Nyrielle’s progeny mirrored the gesture, along with Virve and Ollie, while Heila offered a simpler curtsy even though she wanted nothing more than to dash over to Ashlynn’s side and wrap her arms around her lady in a fierce hug.

For a moment, Ashlynn looked at the pair of thrones on the dais and debated about taking her seat there. The dark throne with its back carved to resemble feathered wings was a comforting reminder of Nyrielle’s presence, even though her lover had stepped back to allow Ashlynn to command the forces of the Vale, just as she’d promised she would at their betrothal ceremony.

But, while taking her own seat on the pale throne carved to resemble the trunk and crown of a mighty cedar tree would have sent a clear message about her authority, it also would have felt too distant from the people she considered to be her family as well as her allies.