The Dying Moon ( Feyd Rautha )

Chapter 31

Hawk had often wondered what face the gods death took. She had seem them in so many various forms that it was impossible decipher their true nature.

The man with an axe.
The beast and its teeth.
A woman with her finely sharpened nails.

There were no wedding dresses in the Alican. Marriage did not exist, and pacts were made with haste and small ceremony. She wore a crimson shroud and a necklace composed of mooncat claws, because that is what she would worn to her own funeral. Wedding the god of death called for the same garb.

Collette led the vows, which were entirely composed of language that lacked affinity. A political binding, a convenience. There were no guests in attendance, not Caros or Sempir. No gallery of Alica, merely the stars and the wind that whipped across the peaks.

At the end, Eidan leaned down with his newly strong hands and cupped her face. He kissed her, and she let him. He tasted of lemon and berries, of blood and hubris.

"You are bound," Collette said, "by decree of a Bene Gesserit."

Hawk peered across the landscape, where the palace grounds were too far to see. The darkness no longer felt like a prison, beings did not creep from the shadows and dart for her ankles. All that was to be feared or revered stood with his hands on hers, or otherwise loomed at her shoulders. All of the women in her line arrived to watch her wed. They whispered, and she whispered back with closed lips.

There was so much comfort in knowing the world was mere inches from one's grasp.

The chimes of morning had yet to resound over the halls. Eidan led her to a chamber in order to unclasp the collar away from Collette's prying eyes. Hawk figured that the woman assumed both her body and soul would be chained to Eidan. If Hawk truly believed in the sanctity of marriage, that may have been true.

Hawk dropped to her knees atop the rams hides as Eidan approached and stood above her. He clasped both hands behind her neck and she breathed slowly. His eyes spoke of wickedness, of treachery and the end of times. There was a darkness inside of him, so heavy and vacant, that she could not pull it from him.

There was also a lightness, one that emanated in his gentle fingers. Hawk did believe that he was more than a man, though the specifics of religion escaped her. She knew a god when she saw one. Her only hope was that he strayed on the side of existence that kept his promises and bred more freedom that pain.

Pain was her job, and the reason that she let him trail his hands over her jaw.

"You are actually beautiful," he said, thumb over her mouth.

"And here I thought that was the only reason you married me," she deadpanned.

Eidan dropped to his knees and kissed her again. His teeth did not grate on hers with passion or defiance. It was what a kiss was supposed to feel like, she assumed, lacking bloodlust.

Hawk was a tactical girl, a liar and a calculated killer. But, she was still human. Eidan moved his hand between her legs and pressed at a spot that lulled her head against his shoulder. He kept pressing, moving in circles until her mouth gaped and sound cascaded forth. He rolled his other thumb into her mouth and then to the back of her neck.

Hawk could not immediately decide which was more pressing, ensuring that the collar came off or that he didn't move his hand. She rocked against him until a blurriness took over her vision. Eidan smiled into the side of her head, breath hot on her neck.

"There is still pleasure to be found in an empty marriage," he cooed.

He fingered the clasp of the collar with a singular hand, she felt it hitch. Her breath hitched with it. The collar dropped into her lap and Hawk dropped to the stone, thoroughly flushed and embracing his job incredibly well done.