and in search of silver lining,
we discovered gold
They met in a city.
A southern harbor upon the cusp of a sea, whose markets reeked of fish and saltwater. All the things that the opaline woman had left behind, nipping at her heels in the form of ocean foam and a breeze kissed with brine. The boats that came had deposited them on separate days, and yet the fated furls of wind had sent their sails colliding.
They met in a city, and yet Aelin wanted nothing more than to lead him to a bed of flowers. To sit within the dappled sunlight of a glade, to close her silvery lids over her eyes, and to bask in the buttery glow of iridescent happiness. So much, too much, had been lost already: worlds left behind in ash and ruin, homelands ransacked of the peace they so desperately deserved. His skin was heavy with scars, their spines burdened with war, and yet the Fair could think of nothing to do but to feel the tickle of grass upon her cheek.
He deserved more than the harsh cobbles of another city beneath his hooves. He deserved the weightlessness of starlight beneath his soles, the sweet release of running water to joyously slosh about his feet. He deserved for his igneous tines to light up an oceanic cove, where they pored over the little rocks and gemstones she’d gathered for the day.
Aelin lead him onward with a brush of her wing. There was no telling how long they had travelled, she knew only of what goodness could await.
She felt it in her chest: a garden of hope that budded anew, little blooms entangling with her ribs, mending the fissures of all that had once broken her apart.
Jahra and Aehra were here, somewhere. She would find them, soon.
But she knew, too, that they were safe. Her heart sang too softly for them to be anything but.
Caressing his side with the tip of a translucent feather, the cerulean stardust of her wings shattered around them, kissing the sunset sky with an array of freckled, cobalt light. Aelin only cared for how it bathed him in a preternatural glow, brushing over the slopes of old scars and aged tattoos—ones the plush of her lips knew how to delicately trace.
By the time the meadow came into view, they were walking shoulder to shoulder; and all the mare’s fantastical daydreams came to life. Already, a smile crept up the grey of her muzzle, and an igneous eye flashed to meet his own from her periphery.
Home lay ahead, somewhere beyond this flowered road. And though she ought to have been exhausted from their travels, the silver mare knew she had weathered far worse pilgrimages—for far more painful prizes.
Already, Aelin was tipping her head back to reach for his cheek, a forelimb lifting with delicacy as she nudged his jawline. Spools of silver hair unfurled from her nape, careless and wild where each curl spilled over her crest. A moonlit waterfall caged by a petal hairclip.
“What about here for the night?” she inquired softly. The smile of her eyes spoke legions more than lips ever could, and laughter danced in the finer intricacies of her expression. "Or would you rather I have asked that five miles back?"
All my agony fades when you hold me in your embrace
As at last peace had seemed within touching distance, more than the ephemeral whisper of some oceanic siren intent upon luring them into a false hope for the future, adventure beckoned once more. The open road was lit with the sunny rays of joy, a thread that could not be ignored as it pulled them forth from the languid depths of Edana. Jahra and Aehra had left first, the delight of exploration too sweet a nectar to be ignored and with their departure, so too had a piece of Aelin’s heart wandered with them. Lumaris could not deny his lover’s happiness and when the day came that they, too, were to leave Edana, he went upon willing hooves with gladness in his heart.
It had taken some time to come to terms with the birth of Aehra, an undertaking that he’d allowed himself only to do in privacy. It had not been anger that his soul wrestled with- the stallion could not imagine ever being angry with Aelin. No; it had been hurt at first that she had not consulted him, if only to alert him to her intentions. Call it old fashioned and male of him, but he’d wanted to be the first to bless her with children. And granted Aehra had not been the product of an ordinary birth, but rather a strong friendship that culminated in Aelin’s mystical wish to see her friend happy, it had still taken time for the stag to wrap his head around it. But he had come to realise that Aelin’s desire to help her friends, her kindness and selflessness were so great that she had used her power to create life. And were those not the qualities he so admired in her? In truth he was blessed to have a mate so benevolent that she used her magic to create a daughter for her friend. And when that realisation had graced his understanding, the steed had come to terms with it.
All Lumaris wanted for his selfless mate, who had given so much of herself to help others, to save others, was for her to find home and happiness. He’d hoped Sovereign would be their home, its Kingdoms living peaceably with one another beneath Aelin and the other Fates’ watchful gaze. But the Darkness had crept forth, an all-consuming, insurmountable force that threatened the lives of every citizen. Aelin had given herself then, stared into the open jaws of death with the defiance of a goddess and sacrificed her life for them all. Borne upon tempestuous waters and sentenced to amnesia and the vile cunning of a shaman man, Aelin had been returned to him. For some time, Edana had become their hope, and yet as the denizens departed from the threat of Laela it become the ghost of a home, haunted only by those few whose happiness was enough to abate the ever looming shadow.
Yet there was something finite about this road as the pair wandered side by side, following the invisible map of their hearts. As though whatever land lay at the finish might at last be their final destination. Their home. Though in his soul, Lumaris knew his home was wherever Aelin went and though she had seemed apologetic for drawing him into another adventure he was all too willing to follow her.
The last rays of sun haloed Aelin, culminating in an enchanting array of blues and yellows as they met the cerulean membranes of her feathered wings. Not for the first time that day, Lumaris found himself watching her, the fire and ice of his gaze softened in a way that it only did for her.
“I’d rather you’d have asked me that somewhere where there was no one to hear us for miles,” he growled softly, the look in his eyes speaking his intentions far more clearly than his tongue. For indeed, as they delved deeper into the sunlit meadow the stallion had become aware of the scents of other horses, both fresh and stale. He nudged her playfully, a devilish smirk upon his dark lips. Piece by piece, Aelin had melted the ice around his soul and day by day Lumaris found himself learning what it was like to be young and in love. Even if he was only one of those things. “But here is fine.”
and in search of silver lining,
we discovered gold
They had met in a harbor.
And yet, enfolded in his embrace upon the cusp of each night, Aelin had never felt more as though she were being washed gently ashore the nameless lands of home. For a wanderer such as she, it was difficult to imagine laying her silvery head upon the same pillow each night. But she could, with absolute simplicity, envision the careful slope of her cheek tucked safely against the corded blue of his chest. By now, that was idyllic.
By now, it was all she could ask for.
The Fair had never been much by way of warrior. No, her talents lay within the capacity of her mind, and the too-pretty picture her colorful mind invented.
In her youth, Aelin had been pliant and naïve, her hunger for knowledge outweighing her sensibility for danger. Through the eyes of her dreaming heart, it was as reflexive as breathing to see the softness in a wolf; to envision the talons of a slashing panther as errant comets; to pretend a splash of blood was the opened petals of a rose.
And though she was wiser now, she still peered into the heart of warriors and saw their tenderness. Their trembling dreams and their burdened spines, beholden to the weight of blood that was not their own. It was, inevitably, the nature of her lover’s character that had drawn her to him. Insatiable in her curiosity, she had heeded the allure of him with gentle eyes, dissuading his roughness in favor of promising him a safe place to lay his head for the night.
As it were, their paths would cross as they unraveled the tangled string of their shared fate. Together, they tugged and yanked upon the crimson tether that bound them—ceaselessly enduring the acrobatics of their dreadful, separate lives. Safety undoubtedly lay in their unity, and the joint glow of their passion seemed enough to drive back any flame.
It was when they were apart that the pieces began to break.
Her eyes were aglow with love as she watched him, a youthful smile playing along the corner of her lips as her words brought them to pause.
(It was easier to breathe now, than it had been months ago. Simpler to outstretch her wings and feel the breeze, rather than the crushing doom of a collapsing sky.
Easier to closer her eyes and to pretend the world held her betwixt promising fates. That doom didn’t await her every step.)
Happiness, her tremendous heart insisted. By all the Gods, they would find it here. His reply made her weak kneed and light-headed, and Aelin’s outstretched wing kissed his spine with benevolent tenderness as she coaxed him forward. A cozy throng of trees awaited them along the meadow, creating a delicate copse through which she knew moonlight would filter nicely.
Try as she might, there wasn’t enough wit in her silvery bones to think up a remark to put him on his knees. No, she could only dwell upon the stretch of skin his muzzle had nudged, setting her alight with fires that could rival suns.
“To hear us wonder after what these new lands will bring?” Aelin demurred at long last, her words a breathy, enchanted interlude into their quiet. She’d known exactly what his intent had been, and the words had still summoned a storm within her rabbit heart.
A pearly smile stole its way toward him, a slash of her hoary tail lightly catching upon his hocks.
The outcropping of trees was bedded with soft grass, shorn low in a way that told her another wanderer might have, not so long ago, let their weary head lay here. Aelin occupied the space with flared, curious nostrils—placated by the solitary scent of soil and weeds.
“Here, then.”
Within the safety of their stilled limbs, Aelin let her wings lay flat against her body, dwarfing the opaline rivers that sloped down her shoulders. Her posture was inviting, and she dared a step toward him as her head tipped back, piebald eyes wide with gratitude.
Aelin’s heart had long made its resolve that she would not see them parted again. She knew, too, that Lumaris had made a similar promise. Nonetheless, it didn’t detract from the meaning of his company.
“Thank you,” the woman’s words imbued the quiet with love, and the gentlest deviation of playfulness. “For coming with me, you scoundrel.”
Her head shook slightly as she watched him, an airy huff of laughter echoing her voice. “I would thank you further, but I would rather not suffer your ego.” Her smile broadened as she stepped nearer to him.
“I meant what I said, though. Tell me,” she tipped her muzzle back, unable to close the distance of their heights, but knowing he would bow his head closer to hers if she dared to tempt him enough.
“What awaits us here?”
Tell me happiness, her mind whispered. Tell me hope.
He set the world on fire but never let a flame touch her
Lumaris had never really been a wanderer and yet he had always been cursed with a wanderer’s heart. Perhaps it was because, after the death of his wife and parents, he never considered the Elven or Fae realms home. Or maybe, as his grandfather sent him from land to land, kingdom to kingdom, it was because he’d never stayed in one place for more than a year. Conceivably that was why it was Aelin, rather than a place, who had become his home. He found himself falling into the lilac and honeysuckle of her eyes, coming to rest each night with her scent in his nares and her head on his chest. Surrounded by the towering depths of her power, slumbering as it was, felt that he belonged. Wherever the ocean-winged mare went, he was sure to follow; for returning to her always felt like coming home.
It was with that mind-set that he looked upon their travels with an air of optimism, knowing that no matter how far they strayed from Edana, from Sovereign and Alanaris, he would never feel more at home than he did by Aelin’s side.
As though it were only yesterday, Lumaris could remember their first meeting upon the shores of Hesperia. The way the crowds had instinctively parted for Lumaris as they beheld his intimidating visage, felt the knee-weakening depths of his suffocating power. The way Aelin had wandered between them, a veritable angel gliding elegantly toward him. While others had shunned the steed she’d had the courage to approach him and the kindness to buy him a room out of her own purse. At first he had been but bemused that someone might talk to him, perhaps more than a little surprised by her innocent kindness. All those centuries in Alanaris and no one- not immortal warrior or lowly farmer, had ever showed him that sort of kindness. Those with more guts than sense treated him with disdain- King Durann’s beast. And those without- they cowered in their homes when the Circle wandered through, knowing they could level an entire city with little more than a blink if they so chose. And had done. More than once. To have someone so gentle, so fragile in comparison simply start up a conversation with him as though he were no more than her neighbour had been humbling.
Without hesitation he follows Aelin into the sun-lit glade, the tree leaves painted in hues of red as the sun passionately kissed the distant mountains. He might have once compared the colours to blood, a field soaked like the aftermath of a battle. And still his warrior’s soul was restless, unused to the peace after centuries of fighting. But Aelin’s tender presence calmed the fire in his heart and melted the ice that once encased him. A once renowned General neither mortal nor immortal could fell, brought low by the smile of an innocent woman. And he would have it no other way.
His gaze was bemused, yet filled with adoration as he beheld the innocence to her words and the playfulness behind them. “Of course,” he purred, inclining his head and flashing his brows as a gentle laugh accompanied it. They had been playing this game for months now; coy glances, intent guised behind joking statements, a flick of a tail here, the swat of her wing there, stealing moments in the night to simply enjoy their safety in silence. Alas, time had not been kind to them and it seemed as soon as one trial ended another tribulation began. Yet Lumaris was content to continue it, loathe to hurry or pressure Aelin when they had only just found some semblance of peace and balance. But, like hungry wolves, a certain word ate away at him. Mate. He knew it in his heart, and he believed Aelin knew it to, but neither had voiced it, despite how much Lumaris longed to do so.
“There is nowhere else I’d rather be,” he replied seriously, eyes gleaming bright with complete adoration as they met her purple and amber ones. “Though I’ll have you know I’m a Prince, not a scoundrel.” The mock disdain lacing his words was imbued with humour, gently running his prehensile tail against the back of her hocks teasingly.
“My ego,” he laughed, that collected smirk becoming a bark of true mirth, “I’d have you meet my sister and then see what you have to say about egos.” Like a candle flame the humour danced in the bi-coloured depths of his angular eyes, quietly fizzling out as he considered her softer statement. Gently, tentatively, he dips his head and presses his lips to her brow. “Home,” he breathes into her fur.
and in search of silver lining,
we discovered gold
His laughter was a rare treasure, and Aelin could recall with clarity when it’d been like drawing venom from a too-full wound. The Fair had always been gentle in her handling of him—if not wily and playful, yet with all the tenderness of the healer she’d once aspired to be. Her words had been a bandage upon old wounds, her jokes a careful distraction from the sorrow she oft saw in his eyes, and her love a suture to knit his pieces back together. And yet, in so many ways, his laughter had saved her, too. It came easier now, as hearty and warm as a mountain breeze, and filled the sail of her wings with steadying winds. A constant elevation that let her soar homeward bound, where ribbons of white clouds awaited her against a curtain of blue silk, leaving her untouchable to all but the whims of heavens. He was home and hearth: the sturdiness of log walls and the sleepy rumble of undying embers; the fortitude of a strength beyond her understanding.
She hoped, one day, to let a family kindle amid those hopeful flames. They were but puffs of yellow and orange among to soot now, but they nursed them to life with each passing day, and Aelin was glad that neither of them had forfeited their dreams long ago. It would have been too easy to submit to the misery that stalked them as they felt their way through dark corridors, the pads of their fingers bruised and bleeding with the sharp points they touched.
And yet, in the shadow, she’d heard his soul calling out to her own. The missing verse within her sonnet, the rich timbre of a melody meant to accompany the frolicsome lyrics of their joined lives. Her chest didn’t feel as terribly empty now that they’d found one another, now that the sun rose and set without terror of impending ruin, and her beloved filled the gaps fate had carved into her marbled chest with molten prosperity. Love, adoration, hope.
It was a flower that razed her in the terrible anguish of being wanted; the incomprehensible knowingness that, at long last, she wanted in return. It was the belonging that was so perfect it stung her eyes with tears; the tempest that stormed through her soul with a fabulousness that was too lovely to behold.
A smile lit up her features as he answered her, her heart full.
She loved him, she loved him, she loved him—
Home.
Aelin swallowed, her throat bobbing through the rich thickness of emotion as her eyes fluttered shut, the silver length of her latches catching upon the lavender splash that masked her gaze. And , as subtle as a sliver of moonlight upon the sea’s surface, as divine as a singular star against the radiant night, a joyous tear fell from an eye as she smiled.
His lips were warm upon her brow, chipping passed the hurt and the fear to reveal the woman she’d once been; who she longed to be again. He was a bridge that spanned between her past and her future, the link that tethered her to youthful hope and undying dreams.
She remembered when she’d parted ways with Campion amid the ruins of Edana, when his hopelessness had nearly burnt her to ash—when his submission to failure had carved the ambition from her chest, left her in want of only all things hollow and broken. When she had, if only for a heartbeat, craved the defeat that came with darkness. To stand, perhaps, in solidarity with her defeated friend.
But subservience to the shroud of loss had not been the answer. For Aelin, it never would be.
Her once ally in Warden-hood, the father of her almost child, had failed her in unthinkable ways. Lumaris would not.
“Home,” Aelin echoed, letting her sooty lips travel to the pulse along the latch of his throat. Her breath parted with a kiss, lost in the softness of that intimacy as she smiled against his skin. “The world owes us too many promises. I hope it makes good on them now.”
A year ago, she would have said she were undeserving of such good fortune. In some ways, if she dared to let herself slip beneath the swell of shortcomings, she knew she would feel that way again.
“I want so many things with you, Lumaris. So many things for you,” and tender as she could be, sweet as she was, Aelin knew how to rend the world apart. She had seen it happen too many times before.
And for him, she would do anything.
Their love went largely unspoken, their devotion scarcely framed into words. It was a superfluous thing to do, when their souls danced so closely. And yet she said, with certainty:
If I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Lumaris could remember, not all that long ago, the way his soul had been burdened by pain, beholden to the misfortunes of his extensive life. The world had been but leeched colours, a visage of lifelessness that spoke to the grey in his heart. Ensconced in his pain, his eyes had been the only windows into the hurt he felt every day. For frozen was his heart, wrapped in a layer of ice so thick and cold he had become little more than an emotionless weapon in his grandfather’s terrifying arsenal. He had been a whisper of the passionate wildfire that had once bloomed within, a creature rendered blank by the winter of his despairs.
And though the stallion could tell you exactly what had coaxed him forth from his frozen cage, he could not put a hoof on the exact moment it had all stopped hurt. Yet somehow his soul felt like one of the cyan feathers adorning Aelin’s form- light and ever glistening come day or night. It had been gradual a first- a smile here, a laugh there. And then it had been sudden, as though something had been switched off. One moment the worst moments of his long life felt as though they had occurred but yesterday and then the next they felt like distant memories lost in depthless pools of lilac and honey.
Sovereign, however, was not a distant memory and Lumaris could recall too easily the utter agony of Aelin’s death and how his world had once more been plunged into greyscale. Aelin was not fragile, she had proven that on many occasions and he would not treat her as such. Yet the Prince couldn’t help but worry that by drawing her into his life he was bringing her that bit closer to danger. There was nothing he would not give to see her safe. His life, his soul- he would become a monster to save her. Whether she’d hate him for it or not, at least she’d be alive and that was the most important thing to him.
But such thoughts sullied the serenity of the evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and lovingly wrapped Aelin in shades of yellow and red. There were many moments Lumaris simply found himself staring at her. At the pale silver of her coat, the way it gleamed in beneath the sun and glowed beneath the moon. At the iridescent blue of her wings and the soft tickle of them across his coat. At the warmth and kindness in her eyes, a light that he would make sure never died. She truly was beautiful, an angel caged within the skin of a mortal. Yet it was always her kindness that drew him in, the melodic way she laughed, the selflessness with which she cared for those around her. He felt like the dim to her light, the demon to her innocence and whatever he’d done to deserve her love he did not know, but he would never take it for granted. They had borne their souls to one another once upon time, rent open the darkest pits of their hearts. Aelin’s iniquities had paled in comparison to the pain and suffering Lumaris had once caused. The cities he had burned down, the armies he had torn to pieces. The innocents who’d died as a result of his actions- whether direct or indirect. Yet she insisted there was more to him, sought the light in his darkness. That hope, that refusal to believe he was as lost to the shadows of his past as he believed.
“If the world does not grant us those promises Aelin, I will. Whatever happens, I will make sure you find peace and safety and happiness.” Gently he lips at the path the tear had taken down her silvery face feeling that divinely familiar spark where her skin met his lips. “And I want them all for you. For us.” He felt those words within the weight of his art, the adamant behind each one. “We have suffered enough, we deserve a quiet life, my love.” And he hoped against hope that this time it would be true, that this time the universe would find it in her omnipotent heart to give them this soft epilogue, to let their lives be mundane and happy.
I am yours. As you are mine. The words were like little flames in his heart, kindling the fires of his soul. Their unspoken devotion was insurmountable, immeasurable yet light all at the same time. His soul had come to know hers with such intimacy it left him breathless. It felt as though he’d known her presence all her life, even if the time they’d spent together was but a fraction of his immortal existence. And though their powers had dimmed, their lifelong souls rendered mortal by the powers of each and every land they passed through, Lumaris felt immortal in her eyes, ageless in her embrace.
“Forever and always,” he whispered back, his voice brimming with that same certainty, “no matter what awaits us, we will always be together.”
and in search of silver lining,
we discovered gold
It was easy to believe that Lumaris held their stars, their fates, within his palms when he spoke with such certainty. Her eyes slid shut, the hoary cast of her lashes brushing her cheek as his lips swept a path across her skin, chasing the drop of starlight that’d fallen from her eyes. There were times that she marveled at how she could deserve such tenderness, after the ruin she had wrought; the pain she had allowed to pass. The lives lost were more than a pinprick upon the fringes of her heart—they were a heady, incessant beating that pumped alongside her heart. A thousand lives, a million wounded, forever set alight with remembrance by she that had failed them.
She remembered Campion’s testimony to her upon the ruined shores of Edana, before she had pieced herself back together and reunited with the remnants of their fragmented family. He had been so certain that the shadow that passed through the worlds was one of their own making, painted upon the breadth of stone and soil and sea by a brush in their hands. Aelin refused to believe that, could not bear to damn herself with the weight of complete ruination.
But there were times when believing she was not a curse was difficult; when she looked upon her reflection with a gnawing uncertainty of what lay beneath the silver garb of flesh.
And there were simpler times, too, when Lumaris’ words kissed her skin with a divine sort of adoration, imbuing the rich timbre of his voice with his love for her. She soaked it in, rarely greedy, and let the silver spools of her hair coil at the latch of his throat as she buried close. Her eyes slid shut.
“Thank you,” she whispered. Aelin believed him, as she always did—she neither doubted his determination nor his capabilities; his willingness to wrench the stars from the heavens if they did not dare offer what they deserved. Her eyes squeezed shut, her heart a heavy weight upon her breast, as she drank in the scent of him.
“Thank you, for following me through so much ruin,” she withdrew a step, tipping her head back to let the plush grey of her lips map a path over his cheekbone, straining to kiss the fluted shell of his ear, filling the fissures of old scars with unabashed affection.
“I love you,” she murmured. “Forever and always.”
The meadow did not feel like an epilogue to their tragedy. It felt, to her, like a beginning.
