KING OF STARS AND SMOKE
His Stormsinger watched the shadows comfortably, as welcome in their embrace as he was, every dip and slide of light over her dark skin turning her more exquisite — more storm than woman. Silence reigned, sliding gentle fingers around Reichenbach's gold ringed ears as he moved to stand beside the woman he seemed irrevocably bound to. As she remembered their first meeting, so did he — it had been the evening of his coronation, a completely un-traditional affair (most were, in Denocte) full of music and flames, laughing, dancing and, as always in their fair city, drinking.
She had caught his eye immediately... like lightning before the storm she had looked beautiful and utterly wild amongst the swaying bodies. A hurricane wrapped in shadows, unmistakably gypsy even as his argent gaze had fallen upon her ice-blue eyes. He'd known her as Rahilah moments later — known and felt the grin growing to match the excitement within his great chest, he'd only ever known the Gypsies of his home through stories, and to actually meet one.
Neither of them could have guessed that they would end up here, together.
Together.
She confirmed, and Reichenbach turned his long lashed eyes to his Regent, dipping his rough-hewn head. His brow furrowed slightly as they moved, the sensation of muscle sliding and shifting strangely magnified as he thought about what lay ahead.
Of course he knew the history of Denocte and the Rahilah — he knew that he would be the first Sovereign in too long to step foot within a Rahilah camp. The knowledge did not settle him, did not fill him with joy or pride... instead he found himself filled with a nervous fire, marking the first time he'd been unsure of himself in years. These were his people. Not just because they were from Denocte and so fell under his protection, but because they were gypsy.
If they were all like Aislinn, would he be able to leave?
A thundering filled the air, so familiar and yet so alien — the drums of the Rahilah. They thudded along the inside of his great chest, vibrating along each cracked rib, building and building as they drew ever closer, The King of Denocte and his Regent. The King Crow and his closest friend. His family.
They crested the hill.
Before them lay a sea of stars and music, violet tents and orange flames setting the campsite alive even without the beautiful women that danced and sparred and sang. He wanted to see everything, and so he did. His moonbright eyes gathered every detail and memorised it, drinking in the family that were not family — as far as he knew.
For the King of Stars and Smoke did not know his heritage, did not know that his mother had been Rahilah, or even gypsy. The name Nadja Shadowsong meant nothing to him.
It meant something to the Rahilah, though.
"Welcome home."
Aislinn's voice was as soft as he'd ever heard it — content, proud. The words she utters so calmly send his heart chaotic, his insides churning with a strange sense of belonging and yet... not. The fact that she had welcomed him home. It wasn't a word he'd had much association with, especially when to him home meant anywhere he could see the stars — but it felt right.
Cinnamon and nutmeg wafted subtly upon the night air, swallowing The Night King and turning his eyes slightly hollow. Somehow, that smell reminded him of those blurry memories, the feeling of a loss so great he should have died. Reichenbach swallowed, trying to bring some moisture into his suddenly-dry mouth.
"Thank-you."
It came out rougher than he'd intended, a husky song, but then he'd never been able to control the emotions that ran havoc upon him.
"Time to meet the family."
And, finally, he grinned.
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