A Kind of Magic

Fifty-Seven

Finally, after long hours which the small company spent in the saddle, urging their horses to move faster and faster across the infinite Black Forest as the sky above their heads, visible through accidental holes in the canopy spun of uncountable tree branches, darkened prematurely with the pledge of a stormy downpour Fiona could not hold away any longer-- a thing Leodhais' mind hadn't entirely accepted yet-- the vampire chateau glowed whitely at the end of this stretch of their road.

He didn't possess any magic, Leodhais mused, his eyes seeking, quite unknowingly, his Annwyn. In Silmarea, only the dragon shifters possessed magic, and their powers were always tied to fire. And the Highlanders, of course-- no one knew exactly what they were capable of. And the dark wizards, but their powers were lesser than those of Emrys, Alaric's inseparable friend, the last wizard-- according to the court gossip at least-- of the ancient line of wizards as old and rare as the one Alaric's line of ancestors was, the line that made the current King of Silmarea the last scion of the half-fotgotten gods, a man who possessed great magic, which he never displayed, never took advantage of himself. 

Not the last anymore; there was Fiona, of course, and Freddie now... It should not feel surprising that they both possessed a kind of magic. The boy could foretell the future, apparently, and his mother could influence the weather...

He jumped in the saddle as a sudden thunder shook the air around them, making Annwyn, riding close behind him, laugh.

"I know... Fiona and her son are simply riveting," the half dragon said as if she could read his mind in a low voice, not wanting Freddie, riding in front of Gilderoy who rode with Alexandra right before Leodhais, to overhear. "I can't blame my brother for falling for her. She's just... wonderful, and unique."

"You are unique," Leodhais said as Annwyn brought her horse to his side, his eyes boring into hers. His breath caught as he relished the almost imperceptible shiver his words caused to ripple through her frame. She was perfect, he had never met a woman like her, he... fast as it was, had fallen in love with her.

"I love you, Annwyn," he muttered, bringing their joined hands to his lips, even as Gilderoy called them from the white walls of the chateau sprawling in the distance, making him realise that they had fallen behind, and it was beginning to rain.

"I love you too, Leodhais," Annwyn said, making his heart soar, before she urged her Firefoot into a canter to catch up with their company. 

Leodhais liked the vampire family that welcomed them in the Entry Hall of their magnificent chateau, the whiteness of the stone it was made of making it glow in the dark emanating from the churning, leaden storm clouds. The vampires were beautiful, polished and polite, and dressed according to the latest fashion, just like the courtiers he was accustomed to seeing at Alaric's court.

For the first time since he had left Alaric's castle, he missed his home... Would Annwyn ever get used to living at court? He mused as they all followed their hosts through torch lit corridors and halls, listening to the storm raging outside, obliterating the sound of their footfalls and conversations. He didn't think so... but for her, he would give it up. He would go back and live with her in The Gate; he would reinvent himself as the inn's landlord if that was what she wished. 

One thing only loomed threateningly in his thoughts, spoiling his present happiness. His reckless past and its most recent event-- Auriel. He couldn't promise anything to Annwyn, demand any promises from her, until he made sure that his past lay in the past, buried and forgotten, without casting shadows over his future happiness.

Peregrine smiled at his companions' badly masked surprise, which their noble, regally behaved hosts politely ignored, at being served a proper dinner upon their arrival.