Sword & Succession - A Darklina AU Fanfic

Chapter 16

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𝔸𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕒 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕠𝕧

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My hands were no longer shackled, but I was still no more free than before. With my help, we'd crossed through the Fold safely and I was being held in a large tent surrounded by Grisha. There was no escape.

So I sat alone on my bed, awaiting the General's arrival. I was told he'd be coming and I prayed that my son would be with him. It'd been weeks, almost a month since I'd last seen him.

My hand gripped at the bedsheets beneath me and my other massaged the spot where the stag's antlers were hidden beneath my skin. I looked up at the sound of a long, high pitched cry. It was an animal's cry, the sea whip's cry. Every time I heard it, it made my skin crawl.

Suddenly, I heard voices. Then the sound of hoofs beats. I listened in intently.

"It's the General!" Someone shouted. "Clear the way!"

My heart thudded and I nervously stood up, walking to the entrance of the tent. I peeped out just enough so I wouldn't be noticed. The first thing I saw was the number of Heartrenders stationed all around my tent. Then I spotted the black carriage.

The door opened and I almost fell, I was leaning so far forward. Aleksander was the first to emerge. The picture of nobility and strength. He looked regal and mysterious as always in his dark kefta and long cloak hanging just above the ground.

His hair was slicked back neatly and his eyes scanned the crowd gathering around them, bowing their respects.

Next, to my dismay, a giant Inferni jumped out, causing the carriage to sway a bit under his weight. He landed firmly on the ground, looking around with excitement and pride. He was incredibly tall for his age and his light hair and skin suggested some Fjerdan heritage.

The Inferni exchanged a few short words with a young, female Heartrender who'd ridden in on horseback. I made a wild guess that they were somehow related. Maybe siblings? They sure did look similar to each other in a few small ways, despite the obvious height difference.

Finally, Reagan appeared. My heart rose, then dropped like an anchor. It was Reagan, my Reagan. He was still thin a pencil, with jaw-length hair and clear quartz eyes. But there was something different about him.

Maybe it was the sudden grace in his steps. Or the slightly guarded look in his eyes. Or the way he followed his father like he was his shadow. Or maybe it was the way he was sporting his brand new kefta. Bright silver, with gold and black embroidery. The first of its kind.

Whatever it was, it shocked me for a second. I had to back away from the door, biting my nail as I paced. I had to shake off whatever this feeling was churning in my stomach. I was glad I'd refused to eat that morning. Otherwise, I might've thrown up right then and there.

I turned on my heel as someone entered the tent. I froze upon seeing Aleksander. He froze too.

We stood there, staring at each other for a long while. Neither of us speaking. Neither of us moving. As if we were afraid that if one of us moved or said anything, the other would disappear.

My eyes finally diverted from him to Reagan standing in the entrance, looking at me with clear uncertainty. "Reagan..." I breathed, relieved to see he was okay. I instinctively held my arms open for him, expecting him to come running.