Blood & Fire

Regret filled me as I realized that the only kisses I'd ever give were the ones I had given on our wedding night. Water filled my eyes, again, but I wouldn't cry for this. My tears were reserved for worse things, I told myself sternly. I had not finally escaped my father only to become the kind of woman who cried over every little thing.

The little girl inside me cried out, but kisses aren't a little thing! I ruthlessly shoved her down, just as I had since I was 10 years old. That part of me was no more. I could never show that kind of weakness to my father, and I wasn't going to start showing it now.

Carefully, deliberately, I crinkled my eyes just the way they would if I smiled. I raised my fingers to my husband's newly wet eyes and brushed the tears from his lower lids. I shook my head, don't cry for me.

Carnen's face hardened and he nodded, understanding. Bending his own will, he smiled at me grimly, "I've had you for less than a week and already I've hurt you more than your father ever did, haven't I?"

I shook my head vehemently. I would a thousand times choose to be here, with someone who cared about me, who touched me, than back as a living ghost, the shunned abomination. Besides, I carried scars aplenty from my father. Perhaps he had not seen, in the dark tent.

I struggled to stand, I must show him, I thought. I must make him understand that he should never think that I'd be better off without him.

Carnen frowned and helped me to my feet when my intentions became clear to him. My side hurt and I felt dizzy, but I pushed myself anyway. Once I was standing, I began lifting my dress. It was slow because every movement shot pain through my side and face, but I had to do this.

Seeing my determination, my husband helped me lift my dress off my head, trying his best to avoid touching any of my bandages. He tossed the garment on the bed, and I was naked before him. This time, it was daylight, and the thin white fabric tent did little to block the light of day, allowing him to see my body clearly.

My pinky toes on each foot were broken and splayed. There were scars of varying lengths and intensity that dotted my feet and ankles, where the tough leather of shoes could be turned to a weapon. Most of my legs were unmarked, but my hips to the underside of my breasts were covered with small scars. The bandage that protected my arrow wound only covered an area the size of a palm, so most of the scars were clearly visible.

Each one was a reminder to keep my face still, my back straight, to keep up faster, to stay further away. Each one marked a time my father had used his skill to snap a piece of boning from my corset and dig it into me. My father hadn't minded the constant repair and replacement of corsets that his habit had necessitated.

Carnen examined me carefully, taking note of each scar, "Your father did this?"

I nodded.

Anger replaced the last vestiges of sorrow that had marred his expression, "I will kill him, m'Lady," he stated with finality.

I nodded simply. It was better, I thought, to feel anger than guilt and sorrow. I hoped he could expunge his regret in patricide. I stumbled, having exhausted my energy.

Gently, Carnen caught me and laid me on the cot. Then, starting at my pinky toes, he kissed each of my wounds gently. I felt as if he was truly claiming me, stealing back each bit of my body that my father had damaged, with love.

When he ran out of scars to kiss, my husband sucked each of my nipples gently into his mouth before moving down to my nether region. Worry pricked at me as he bent his head to lick that same spot he'd licked before. I pushed his head away.

This time, he didn't push back, instead turning worried eyes to mine, "Doesn't it feel good?"

I nodded; it did feel good.

"Why, then? Do you think you don't deserve to feel good?"

I shook my head, that wasn't it at all. Frustrated, I tried to mime peeing. I put my hand in my folds and stuck one finger out and wiggled it.

"You wish you had a penis?" Carnen asked, bewildered.

I shook my head. I saw a glass of water with a hollow reed emerging from it on a table next to me. I gestured at the glass and mimed drinking.

"You're thirsty?"

I shook my head and mimed drinking again, then passed my hand down over my chest and stomach to my nether regions and jerked my finger up again, wiggling it like water.

"You need to pee?"

I slumped my head back on the bed and shook it roughly, then winced as this caused a spike of pain. I pointed at Carnen's mouth then my pelvis then made the peeing mime again.

"My mouth makes you need to pee?" He asked slowly.

I nodded happily.

"My wife, my love, that's not what that is."

My whole body buzzed when he called me his love and my nipples hardened.

"That liquid that comes out when I lick you is just your fluids of arousal," Carnen said.

I cocked my head, confused.

"The sensation is similar to peeing, but it is not pee. It tastes different and there's far less of it. It just means you are really excited by sex. It's a good thing. I love when I can make a woman release her fluids."

I wrinkled my brow but nodded in understanding of this strange concept.

"Did it feel good, when I licked you on our marriage night?" Carnen asked.

I nodded.

"I want to make you feel good," Carnen said. "This is something I can do for you. Will you let me?"

I shrugged and nodded. Just having him here, telling me he cared, made me feel good, but that was too much to explain. So, I would let him do this if it would help ease his guilt.

My husband went down to my clit again and licked it gently. He was slower now, than he had been the other night. When that same feeling like I had to pee came over me, I tried not to fight it, instead letting the spurt of fluid go. And with that spurt came the same shuddering of my whole body that had happened before.

It was a good feeling, I decided. Well, it was until I moved my head back and pain shot through my face. I winced, but quickly suppressed the reaction as my husband lifted himself and crawled up my body to look in my eyes. I didn't want him to see the pain that he had unintentionally caused me.

I waited for him to push his penis into me as he had before, but it didn't happen. Instead, he kissed each of my eyelids gently, staring down at me with a soft expression. Could it be love? I wondered.

"You cannot go in!" A voice shouted from outside the tent.

There was a clang of steel and several thumps. Then the tent opening was swept aside, and a man stepped inside. Carnen had jumped to his feet when we heard the noise and was now facing the opening. His hands were engulfed in flames, ready to cast if the interloper was an enemy. As soon as Carnen saw the man who entered, he threw a fire ball towards the intruder. The man twitched his hand, and the fire was engulfed in a clump of dirt that starved it of oxygen. The dirt thudded to the floor.

"Ferdan." Carnen said sourly.

"Father, there is important news," Ferdan cast me a look of distrust. "Please grant me a private audience."

I pulled the thin blanket around me, feeling unnaturally exposed.

"No. I will not keep secrets from my wife. Tell me."

"Your wife?" Spat Ferdan angrily. "You just met the woman!"

"And she saved my life, and yours too, son. If she meant to betray me, all she had to do was nothing. Instead, she's been injured on my behalf and disfigured by my own hand. We all owe her."

Ferdan huffed, but didn't argue further, "The navy has occupied Enerte. Prince Jadeth's ships are docked in the harbor with only minimal visible protection, but there are signs of hidden guards. They have taken the bait, father."

"Ahh... Thank you, son. We must move, then. Make the signal."

Ferdan hurried out of the tent purposefully. Carnen collected my discarded dress and helped me into it. He kissed me lightly on my brow.

"I must go, my wife. If all goes well, I'll be back in a week, and you will be a queen."

My husband turned to leave but I held his wrist and pulled him back to me. I cocked my head at him and raised my brows, willing him to understand my question.

"I will return," he said firmly.

I squeezed his wrist, shook my head, and lifted my shoulders. But what if you don't?

"If I am not back in a month, then take whatever you need from my tent and leave this army. Go and find yourself a village and a nice young man. No one will recognize you."

My husband caressed my ear sadly as he gazed on my bandaged face. Such a disfigurement would render me unrecognizable even to my own father, I thought.

"No one knows who you are except the men who were there, and we all go into this fight together. Well, my grandmother knows, but she will help you, whatever you need. You are free, no matter what happens now."

I closed my eyes to conceal the pain in my heart. I loosened my grip and Carnen slipped free of my grasp. When I opened my eyes, he was gone.

~~~~~

Three days later, the flesh mage arrived. She was bent over with age, her skin dripping from her bones. Her white hair floated in a wispy cloud around her head. But her eyes were sharp and bright with cunning.

"Alright girl, take off those bandages," She said to me, her voice as grating as sandpaper.

Even after three days, changing the bandages frequently, the skin still stuck to the cloth as I pulled it away from my face. I winced as I unwound it slowly. Once my face was uncovered, the old mage leaned in close to examine me.

"Hmm... Yes. Well, the light burns in the areas that were protected from the fire will be simple enough to heal, they are nearly healed already. This flesh around your lower face though, it is a challenge.

"There are two choices, I think. Yes. I can focus on appearance or function, but I doubt we'll get both. Well girl, do you want your beauty, or do you want to be able to chew food? Maybe talk too, but I hear you don't do that anyway..."

The old woman stared at me while I tried to figure out how to mime that I'd rather eat than be pretty. I shook my head, then nodded, answering her questions in the order she asked them.

"You want function?"

I nodded vigorously, then winced as pain shot through my face.

"Good choice, girl. You're a sensible one, I had hoped so," The old lady chuckled as she went to touch me.

I suppressed a flinch and let her hold my hands. Warmth flowed through me from my hands up to my face. The pain that had been constant for days receded. I felt my shoulder relax as the tension I'd been carrying, working to keep my face as still as possible, faded too.

"You're not done yet. We'll be doing this every day, for at least a week I reckon."

I nodded and worked to make my eyes smile for the woman, trying to communicate my intense gratitude.

"Well, now that's out of the way, I suppose I should introduce myself. I'm Freja. And you're Elibeta."

I nodded, thinking. I had heard that name before, associated with a flesh mage. I reached back to the old tales my mother would tell, and when I found the right one my eyes shot open in recognition and awe.

"I see you've heard of me," Freja laughed.

Well, of course. Everyone had heard of her, and every healing mage revered her. She was the only daughter of King Grendor. That would make her Carnen's great grandmother, and nearly 150 years old!

It was said that she found a way to turn her flesh magic to immortality, but refused to give that gift to anyone, even her own sons that she'd outlived. But the best story, the story that endeared her to healing mages everywhere, was about the time she'd become tired of healing the victims of one of her brothers, a powerful ice mage.

The story went that she, no more than a teenager at the time, crept into his room and stabbed him through the heart while he slept. With his dying breath, he froze her in place. Which is how the servants found her the next day. She'd been pronounced dead and enclosed in the family tomb. But she was a healing mage, after all.

Less than a day after she was entombed, she was banging on the catacomb gates demanding to be released. Her father had threatened everyone in the castle to never talk of the fratricide or her rebirth. But rumors went wild.

She'd been feared by men and loved by women ever since and had proved as resilient and honorable an adult as that story had painted her in childhood. I could think of nothing else to show my gratitude and awe than to bow, deeply and humbly to her. I kept my head low until she touched my shoulder lightly.

"There's no need for that. After all, we're family now."

She was right, I realized. I sat down heavily, overcome with emotion. Suddenly, the meaning of being married to a prince became real to me. I was among the nobility now, among that class of people about whom songs are song and legends are told.

Freja sat next to me on my cot and rubbed my back gently.

"It's alright dear," She chuckled. "I can see that you're strong enough to be a queen. The people will love you as they loved me."

I glanced at her in shock. How had she known just what I'd been thinking?

"I'm not a mind reader," She cackled. "But I've raised enough children to get a bit of the knack for it."

I studied my hands thoughtfully. If I was going to be a queen, a real queen, then I had to be able to communicate, somehow. Glumly, I pointed at my mouth.

"You want to talk?" She asked.

I shrugged.

"Well, can you write?"

I shook my head. It had not interested my father to enable me to communicate. He preferred to keep all his secrets locked inside me with my voice, where they were safe and could not damage him. My mother had taught me to read before she died, but there was not much that could be used to teach writing at sea.

"Ah well, we'll start there."

Freja was a patient teacher. From somewhere, she had managed to procure a slate board and a bit of chalk. Even without writing, the board made communication much easier as I was able to draw pictures.

We spent the days practicing writing and each morning, she healed a bit more of my face. On the seventh day, Freja announced that I was as healed as I would ever be. She produced a mirror and handed it to me.

Nervously, I looked at my face. I was surprised to see that I still had lips. It was not so bad as the blood mage had made it sound. I smiled and frowned experimentally and was delighted that my mouth moved and showed each expression.

My cheeks and chin were covered in ragged scar tissue, but that didn't bother me. I could barely remember what my face had looked like before. I almost never looked at my reflection. I wondered if Carnen would still be attracted to me. I wondered if he ever had been, or if he was just motivated by blind lust that first time, in the dark and then later, by gratitude.

My thoughts turned to my missing husband. He'd said he would return in a week, and it was beyond that now. I put down the mirror and picked up the slate.

"Carnen?" I wrote, glad that this one of the words I knew how to write.

Freja shook her head, "Still no news."

I frowned at my board and wrote, "He said he'd be back in 7 days."

"I am worried too, but there isn't much we can do. We don't know his plan and we might do more damage than good if we go rile things up."

I nodded, understanding her point even if I didn't like it.

"Why is Carnen alone, and not with his army?" I wrote.

It seemed to me that he should have taken his army to win a war, not left them behind like a great useless lump.

"The boy has always cared too much about his people. I told him, if he dies, then what good does that do the country? But he thinks himself invincible."

I smiled as Freja described a man twice my age as a boy. What must it be like to be older than everyone else, I wondered?

The days passed slowly, and with each new dawn, Freja and I grew more quiet, more concerned. Finally, on the sixteenth day, one of Carnen's six personal guard stumbled into camp. Everyone stared as he passed, but he didn't stop until he reached Carnen's tent.

He slumped over into the fabric door, slipping inside. I jumped up from my writing lesson and rushed to him. We pulled him inside and flattened him out so we could check for wounds.

Seeing none that were obvious, I grabbed a glass of water. I stretched my legs under his upper back, propping him up so that I could pour some water into his throat. Meanwhile, Freja had taken his hands in hers. The man's eyes popped open, and I recognized him as the eagle shifter.

He wet his lips and stared at us wide eyed.

"What has happened?" Freja asked.

"We were ambushed and separated. Five of us were trapped in a sea cave. It took days to make a hole large enough for only a bird to escape. I dropped in some fish for the others, and there is enough water they can survive another week, at least.

"Once I got out, I searched for Ferdan and Carnen. I found them chained in a ship's brig, their hands encased in iron so they cannot cast their magic. I couldn't get to them, couldn't help them at all..." The man looked anguished at the admission.

"Prince Carnen told me to tell you he is sorry that you will not be queen. He sent me to look after you, make sure you were safe."

I gaped, struggling to understand what he was saying. But there was only one thing clear to me. My husband was alive and being kept prisoner. And I had his army.

I grabbed the slate from the ground and wrote, "We go to war."

Freja nodded, "Yes."

The eagle shifter frowned, "That is not what Prince Carnen wanted."

"Jadeth is a monster. He must not be king. We will free Carnen, and he will rule. There is no price too high," I wrote.

The man gazed up at me and his expression shifted from despair to hope. He nodded.

"What are you orders, my Queen?"

"Gather whoever is in charge of the army now."

With new vigor, the man pushed to his feet and left. Feeling a bit overwhelmed with what I was about to do, and yet determined, I looked to Freja for support. The old woman beamed at me with pride, and I knew I was doing the right thing.

I knew Prince Jadeth, had watched him for years in his private meetings with my father. I knew how he thought, what he wanted, how he behaved. He would destroy what remained of our land, casting thousands to their deaths through neglect and outright sadism.

I hadn't known Carnen long, but I had seen enough to know he was good, better than I'd dared hoped he would be. If a thousand or more must die to make him king, the loss would still be far less than the cost of letting Jadeth win. I would not let Carnen's honor and compassion become the country's death. All of our fates were in my hands now.

The eagle shifter returned soon with a group of hard-looking men. They eyed me with suspicion as they filed into the tent.

"Tell them," I wrote, regretting that I had not yet learned the eagle shifter's name.

The man repeated what he'd already said, adding only that I was Prince Carnen's wife and their Queen, and they all owed me their allegiance. It was a nice touch, and I was surprised when the gruff men all bowed their heads towards me, accepting my authority. I had expected there to be more trouble. Well, they probably respected the eagle shifter, and having won his allegiance, they followed suit, I figured.

"Report on the status of the army," I wrote, grateful for Freja's lessons.

I listened as they spoke, but I had absolutely no idea what most of it meant or what was the best way to make use of the information. Instead, I watched them as they presented. It was easy to identify the one man who they kept looking to for approval. He was the one who would know what to do.

Thankfully, each of them had given their name and rank as they began, so I could at least address them by name.