Points And Daggers

One

Celsa Tulay Lian awoke drenched in cold sweat. She sprung upright as a scream escaped her lips. Celsa clutched her chest, trying as hard as she could to catch her breath. She could hear her heart pounding, causing a ringing in her ears. Her mind was racing. Her vision was blurred, all she could see was overwhelming darkness surrounding the young queen. The memory of her nightmares replayed in her mind. The blood, the gore, the screams, the bodies, the overwhelming feeling of being helpless. It was unbearable. Breath, she commanded, talking to herself as if she was one of her own soldiers. But as hard as she tried, she could not control her terror. Not when her dream had been so vivid. She hated how her mind took her memories and twisted them to be worse than the already horrible truth.

For six years she had been plagued with these nightmares. For six years she had been the sole ruler of her kingdom. For six years, she had been left to make the hard decisions for her nation. For six years she had cried out in the night for relief that never came. It was six years after the massacre, and things for Celsa had not even begun to recover from it.

Some nights were better, and she could get a grip on reality, but tonight was not one of those nights. Her senses were numbed. She could do nothing but breathe loudly and uncontrollably. She felt like her lungs would give out. Her chest ached, and she was overwhelmed with the sense that she was going to die in this bed. She could not escape her mind. Celsa let the darkness overtake her.

Suddenly she felt something grab both her forearms. The ringing in her ears began to subside, and she could hear a familiar voice even though she could not make out the words they were saying. The rough and calloused hands rubbed up and down her forearms, trying to comfort her.

"You are safe," The voice said, still shrouded in darkness. "Breath, Celsa. You have to get control of this."

The voice belonged to Edward Dae, the queen's general and closest companion. With his grounding, Celsa forced herself to calm down, her breath still hard and cumbersome. Her body shook as she fought to put the darkness back inside of her.

Celsa tried to focus on what was real. She focused on the hands holding her arms, visualizing them as anchors to reality. Slowly the darkness began to lift. She took slow deep breaths, inhaling the scents of the warm summer night's air. She could smell Edward. He smelt of the sun. A smell that can not be described, only experienced. It is the smell that lingers on the skin of one who has laid out in the sun and the scent that clings to the summer air. Celsa loved that smell, as it reminded her of her father.

After some time of the two sitting together on Celsa's bed, the darkness subsided. Celsa could see her companion, his cropped golden hair was a mess and he was missing a shirt. She stared deeply into his sky blue eyes. His tanned skin glowed, even in the moonlight that shown from Celsa's window. Edward's sword hung from the belt around his waist. She could not help but chuckle at the state of her General.

"I heard you scream," Edward explained, without her having to ask about his state of undress. "I couldn't be sure you weren't being attacked. It's my job to keep you safe."

Celsa could not bring herself to speak. Instead, she nodded. She understood and was grateful for Edward coming to her aid. It had been a long time since she had let her emotions get so far out of hand. She prayed nobody else was aware of it. Her image was essential to maintain. Celsa lifted the golden sheets of her bed and motioned for Edward to join her. He placed his sword against the wooden posts of the queen's bed. He laid down next to her. She squeezed his back tightly, nuzzling her face into his neck.

"Ed, it was a bad one tonight," Celsa admitted to her friend when she could finally find the words. He already knew she meant her dream. He had these types of nightmares as well. He had lived through the massacre.

"I know." The golden General responded, running his hands through her snow-white hair. "But, we'll get through it. We always do."

That was all Celsa truly needed, just his physical presence to remind her that she was not alone with her demons. This had become almost a ritual of theirs. They took care of each other, taking turns helping the other get through the nightmares.

Edward was Celsa's best friend. The only person in the world who seemed to actually understand her and put up with her true self. They understood each other's trauma better than anyone else, for Edward, had been there six years ago and he had significantly lost too. Edward too had watched helplessly, unable to save anyone. He had been only seventeen at the time. Edward was just starting his training to become a general when the rebel forces had invaded the castle. There was little he could have done even if the attack had some kind of warning.

Six years later, Edward was twenty-three and had become the youngest General in the history of the continent. He was already twice the warrior his legendary father had been, and even Celsa would admit that he was twice as handsome. The pair had grown up together. Edward had trained with Prince Ryeon, Celsa's brother, and they had teased Celsa mercilessly as children, causing Celsa to feel bitter towards both boys. But over the years, Edward's teasing had become more akin to miserable attempts at flirting with the princess.

By sixteen, Ed was no longer the awkward, long-haired, lanky boy, Celsa had grown up with. He was a charming young man and a trained soldier, with a body that matched. Edward was much taller than her; his muscles perfectly toned for combat. His long ash-blond hair had cut so that it was neat and shaved carefully to his scalp: A warrior's haircut. Ed was a favorite among the young ladies of the court and could easily make any of them his wife, yet it was no secret; it was the beautiful princess he had his eyes on. Celsa, on the other hand, had no interest in any male except her favorite and eldest brother, Prince Valian.

Not long after the massacre, Edward and Celsa realized romance was not in the cards for them. She was a girl trying to keep up a front as a strong queen, and he had to put her army back together. Still, their friendship blurred the boundaries of what was considered reasonable or appropriate for royalty.

Celsa often felt shame as she laid beside him on nights like this, for many reasons. Sometimes it was because she felt like she was leading Ed on, other nights it was the shame for needing him so much. She expressed those to her friend often, and he always reassured her that he'd gotten over his crush on her. Edward told her that now only saw Celsa as a younger sister and his queen who it was his job to protect and care for. But Celsa never told him of the shame she felt for her damage to his reputation. She knew how it looked. It was no secret her General was her best friend, and many people wrongly assumed her consort. Older generals dismissed Edward's skill as a general because of this, claiming he only got his position as general for servicing the queen.

Celsa knew that was her fault. She was the one who let the young General into her bed. She was the one who needed him to get her through the evening. As innocent as it indeed was, no one understood her intentions. She was far more traumatized than she let on. Only with Ed's help was she able to get the nightmares to the point where they were as manageable as they were now. He was her primary source of support and her confidant. He knew everything about her. The good the bad and the ugly. And there was a lot of ugly in Celsa's small body. She'd done many things in the name of revenge, some she was more proud of than others. Many had come at a tremendous personal cost.

The massacre had awoken the gift she had received as an infant. The darkness. The same power that had overtaken her bedroom. That power given to her by a demon had allowed her to wipe out all the rebel forces in her home, saving herself and Edward. Only he knew the lengths she went to put her kingdom back together in the civil war.

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AN: I seriously need feedback on this chapter! I've been rewriting it for almost three years and I think its time for me to finally share it. 

-Ro