Chapter 137: Aella’s Journey
Chapter 137:
Aella existed in a fog, until she suddenly found herself sitting on their couch, her wife staring at her with concerned eyes. The presence of the Moon dragon had faded, but she had no idea what had happened after Basiano had stormed off from the “family meeting”. Their hearth fire was burning merrily, the litters were nowhere to be seen. Alejo was curled up on a large cushion on the floor, holding Damara in one arm as the boy flirted with sleep. Egaz was reading to them both haltingly, the story about an adventurer who scaled a mountain to find a cure for an illness. The little lad was even trying to do voices like his mother did when she read. Nereida’s hand was resting lightly on her leg.
“Back with us, love?” The siren leaned in to kiss her head. The fog finally cleared as Nereida spoke, telling Aella about the words she had uttered before becoming still and unresponsive. “We figured you were keeping your passenger contained,” Nereida finished. “Mom is alright, though she was very upset by the moniker you placed on Bassi.”
“Not exactly my choice,” Aella muttered. She pinched the skin between her eyes, trying to ward off the oncoming headache.
The rest of the evening passed with relative calm. Aella was able to convince Alejo to go have a bath. A male servant accompanied him, when Nerieda ruled her son was too tired to be near water without supervision. The child spent nearly an hour in the warmed water, and when he emerged his colour had vastly improved. Nereida too, went to bathe, though she insisted on going alone. Aella let her have her solitude, and took that time to spend with Damara. The infant cooed and waved her arms around. Her eyes were more focused now, lacking the fuzziness of her earlier expressions. She seemed to recognize certain people. Aella wondered when her daughter would start calling for her mama. She was almost four months old now, surely it had to be soon! Aella told her daughter stories she vaguely recalled from her own childhood, though a few endings were fuzzy. She made up what she could not remember, and that seemed fine by the infant, who fell asleep curled up in Aella’s arms. It was such a peaceful feeling, holding her daughter, taking in her features and just being in the moment.
Holding her daughter, she could ignore her own grief that skittered through her brain like a rat on a ship, bringing ruin. It had not been lost on Aella that Camina was the same age as Epelda. She could not imagine saying goodbye to her daughter, laying her to rest. She’d go mad. She did not have the strength to withstand that kind of grief. And given the moniker that the Moon had given Bassiano, she worried he did not have the strength either. Long will he reign. But nothing on the kind of king he would be. Damara cooed in her sleep, and she forced away the borrowed worries. They had enough to do now. Like putting her daughter in her cot to sleep, and finding something approaching rest for herself. Nereida needed a port too, and she’d be no good to her family if she did not rest.
The next morning dawned bright and cold, not a cloud in the sky. Frost covered their windows, making beautiful patterns on the expensive glass windows. They all gathered in the large living room, keeping close to the hearth. The children wore wool vests over their mourning clothing, trying to keep warm. They sat playing with wooden puzzles, while Damara chewed on a wooden ring, drooling happily. Nereida’s foot was much improved, and she no longer limped. She sat crosslegged on the ground with her children, helping guide them quietly. She had managed to heal Alejo’s feet, and the boy was not in pain any longer, but his mood had not improved.
“Take another bath,” Aella suggested to the boy. “We can ask the servants to make sure it is warm, and you can soak as long as you want.” A knock sounded on their large oak doors, and then a servant entered. He was dressed in mourning clothes, but they were neatly pressed.
“Begging your pardon for the intrusion, Princess, Countess, but his grace Prince Leevan has requested your presence in the throne room for business with a foreigner who does not know our customs.”
“We will be there shortly,” Nereida replied.
“Do you require a litter or an escort?”
“Neither, the countess and I will go alone.”
“As you wish, princess.” He bowed low, and headed out. The children were placed with the nanny, and then Aella and Nerieda headed back to the throne room. Nereida took them a different route, so that they ended on the platform and not down with whatever petitioner was waiting for them. Leevan met them in the hall behind the throneroom. He was pacing about, his hair askew as if he had been running his hand through it. His shoulders were tense.
“There’s a siren in the throne room, with a baby,” Leevan said, without preamble or greeting. He looked at Nereida. “Bassi was handling all that and I… I just… I don’t know who he had vetted. I can’t… she’s so tiny, Nerry. I can’t take her.” Nereida pulled her brother into a hug. “I’ll be his voice today, Lee.” Aella made a face, hoping neither of them saw. She didn’t want her wife to be someone else’s voice.
The siren was waiting on the floor, holding an infant in her arms. She sat cross-legged, the baby latched on to her, feeding. She barely wore any clothing, though someone had given her an old wool blanket to guard her against the chill. Her skin was a deeper blue than Nereida’s soft blue skin, her hair done in respectable braids. When she saw Nereida enter from the back of the throne room, she jumped to her feet. “Dolphin’s Revenge!”
“Yes.” Nereida smiled at Aella reassuringly, then turned back to the siren before them. “This is my wife. I understand you are here because you have given birth to a Dolphin?”
“Ye-yes, ma’am.” The woman trembled. “I didn’t expect to see you in person. Just the prince.” The idea that Basiano was “just” a prince was bothersome. Why did they put her wife on a pedestal higher than a king? Had the story that Nereida was a Scion spread to unknown sirens?
“The Prince is soon to be King,” Nereida replied, keeping her tone gentle. Aella noticed the way Nereida stiffened, as if she were trying to wall in her own grief. “But we are in mourning. He will see no one.” There was a long, awkward pause, before the siren spoke again, her voice unsure and trembling.
“My son cannot breathe the water,” the woman looked stricken at this. “He is nearly a month old now. We have travelled so far. I… I thought it would be easier, once I could place my infant into someone’s arms. To know they would find a home, and not death.” She looked at the baby. “But now… I… I will have to return to my family in shame, knowing the Ocean did not bless us with a son we could keep.” She looked up at Nerieda, her eyes full of emotion. “Why, Great One, must we bear the shame of a child of the air?”
The air shifted. It was fast, so fast, that Aella did not have time to do anything other than step back. Her magic had given her no warning. When Nereida spoke again, it was not her voice that echoed in the empty chamber. The dragon's voice came from Nereida, her deeper voice full of anger. “There is no shame. The first Scions breathed air, not water. You question my gifts?” The siren squealed in fear, dropping to her knees and cradling the infant protectively. Nereida leapt off the raised platform, landing a hair’s breadth away from the trembling, terrified siren. She cleared three times her own height with a strength no mortal possessed. Cautiously, Aella headed to the stairs on the sides of the platform. She’d have to calm the Ocean, if such a thing was even possible.
“N-no,” the siren stammered, her head bowed over her infant.
“Good. Give him to me. I shall ensure the blood of the ocean is raised in the belly of fire.” Nereida’s form had not changed, thankfully, but the way she loomed over the poor siren was terrible to see. There was an energy in the room that filled Aella with dread; cold, deep and endless. She wondered if the poor siren could feel it too. The siren hesitated, and then, slowly, lifted her infant toward the Dragon in Nereida’s body. The child cried, loud and strong. He had good lungs, for all that he had failed to breathe the water. The Dragon of the Ocean took the child, holding him tenderly. He soothed, back in the warmth of someone’s arms. Aella stepped up beside the dragon, and placed her hand gently on her back, as if the touch could summon back her wife.
“Are we done here?” she asked softly. “I’d like my wife back.”
“Soon, my beloved’s scion. I will return her when I am done.” She did not turn, but she also did not pull away from Aella's touch. “And you, water-born, go home. Remember that any life is a gift, even if it is not the one you would like for your child. And you may sing, child, of my wrath. If I learn that any newborns are meeting their death to the waves because of “shame”, I shall visit without mercy, grace or understanding. Are my words clear?” The siren nodded vigorously, not able to voice any words. The blood had drained from her face. “Then go.” The siren did not need to be told twice, and she fled.
Aella waited until the heavy doors slammed shut behind the frightened siren. She moved to beside the dragon, waiting to see if the Ocean would let her wife return.
“Moon’s Daughter, how long have my people been killing their young?” The goddess sounded weary.
“Generations,” she admitted softly. “I couldn’t tell you anything more than that, I’m afraid. Even Nereida…. She was brought to the land by fate, by a kind-hearted parent or by a dolphin perhaps, but her fate should have been death.” She shivered, and could feel the strands of her magic tightening, as if they were trying to tell her something. She closed her eyes, felt the magic crawling on her skin, through her. “Five hundred and seventy years,” Aella said. She felt a wave of nausea. She would NOT allow herself to be sick in front of this god in her wife’s body. The Ocean lifted her hand and patted Aella’s head as if she were a child.
“Thank you, little one.” Her tone was fond, soft, but it hardened quickly. “Perhaps I should teach my followers a lesson, and see that all their children for the next five hundred and seventy years are born needing air.”
“No!” Aella admonished. She stepped in front of the goddess, her eyes hard, hoping that the dragon did not know how terrified she was in the moment. She only did this because she knew Nereida would weep for days if she let it happen. Her wife would break under the strain of yet more grief, especially if she felt she was the cause of others’ pain. “You will only teach them more cruelty. Great Ocean, I beg you, leave things as they are. Let your Scion show them the better way.”
“As you wish.” She smiled down at the baby in her arms. “He is small. I remember my son, at this size. You never know what they will grow to become, when they are like this.” She kissed the baby’s forehead. His skin went from olive to deep blue. “There. Now none will forget what you are, child. Grow well, and do marvelous things.” She placed the infant in Aella’s arms. “I will release my scion now, but remind your wife that Damara is mine as much as she is hers.” Aella heard the threat; let me see my daughter on your terms or I will see her on mine.
“Thank you, Great One,” Aella said, opting for politeness with the goddess. The Ocean rumbled with a laugh, before Nereida slipped to the ground. Unable to catch her wife and hold an infant, Aella could only watch as Nereida crumbled. After a moment, Nereida sat up, rubbing her elbow where she had struck the ground.
“One day, maybe, she’ll be less dramatic when she leaves,” Nereida huffed. She managed to get to her feet with very little grace. She gave Aella a tired smile. “You’ll catch me up?”
“After you find a home for this fella.” Aella made a face, feeling warmth on her hand that supported the baby. “He’s going to need a nappy change first though.” Nereida chuckled, and headed off with the baby, wet nappy and all, looking happier than she had since Camina’s death. She had someone to help, a compass sending her north, and was back on course… if only for this moment. Relief lifted a weight from Aella’s shoulders, and she headed back to check on her family. She hoped one of them needed something. She needed her own compass.