The Crowned Captive
The Stolen Princess

Three months. Barely three months it had taken to go from a ragged orphan, fighting for survival, to a princess betrothed to a lord she may just love. The smile had not fallen from her face all night. Currently, she twirled in front of her mirror, staring at the unbelievable gown. She looked like a living flame, with layers upon layers of gold embroidered leaves on delicately draped chiffon. Her every movement shot dazzling lights off the metallic thread, making the dress so much more magical.

Her tiara was brighter than she had ever thought possible, a gift from her father. Enchanted rubies, collected from the spine by someone far braver than her, shone and danced with ever-present light along the crown. Between them, the diamonds shone like twinkling stars against the golden frame. Hundreds of them littered the metal, ranging from pinpoint gems to the size of her thumbnail. The piece of jewellery was heavy, straining her neck, but she put the thought from her mind. Rubies shone in her ears, dripping from the stud like blood-red tears, but only her mother’s necklace sat upon her neck. Despite the king’s disapproval, she had simply refused to wear anything else; if her mother could not be here in person, she deserved to be there in spirit. It did not matter to Morana that the woman who raised her did not own the necklace her whole life, because regardless that is whom she associated it with.

Giddy excitement was pent up in her every muscle as she awaited Rowan’s arrival. She had been told it was traditional for her betrothed to be the first to gaze upon her, but she hated the waiting. Knowing Rowan, he would attempt to take her right there and then and make them both terribly late to their own event. So she began pacing, the anxiety killing her. What would his family think of her if she was late? Would they care? She knew they and Rowan had a very strained relationship - would they ever approve of his potential marriage to her?

She stopped her pacing when a knock sounded at the door, hurriedly fixing her skirts. It seemed like a century had passed between the second she acknowledged it and the second it finally opened, but her heart stopped dead once it did. Never had she expected Rowan to dress so finely. His russet hair was delicately braided in what must have taken hours, gold loops entwined with each braid and all pulled back with another heavy band of gold. His tunic had been perfectly tailored, obviously made for the occasion with a dark green velvet embroidered with twin dragons. His wrists were stacked with simple gold cuffs of varying widths, and each of his fingers had its own golden ring. Had he had a simple gold crown, though Morana could have easily thought him a prince.

“If I had known I was to be given to a goddess tonight, I may have dressed slightly better,” he breathed as he stood in the doorway, and Morana could not help but roll her eyes.

“You are a flatterer, my prince,” she breathed as she walked closer to him, ignoring the want to knock that smug grin from his face.

As soon as she was within arms reach, he leant down and kissed her with a passion unmatched. She smelt it then, that chocolatey-rich scent of lust and love intertwined. Her lips turned up into a grin as he kissed her once more before pulling away, his cheeks flushed. That was all the proof she needed, all the proof she ever needed that she had made the right choice. She wrapped her arms around him once more, savouring the scent of citrus and spice.

“Come on, princess. Let’s take one last walk as guard and princess before we are officially partners,” he said, grabbing her hand gently. She followed obediently, knowing if she did not that neither of them would leave this room.

Despite winter truly setting in now, the temperatures well below freezing, she did not feel a single bite of the cold as she walked through the halls with him. Even as they opened the doors, the wind lashing the world in sudden gusts around them, she was completely protected from the elements as they walked. They meandered through the gardens, her pointing out exactly where she had collected the ingredients to brew her paralysis poison and Rowan showing her where the better plants stood. Finally, they came to stand in front of the pond, now frozen over. As if on queue, the wind died down, and tiny little snowflakes began to fall.

Her smile was childlike as she watched them floating down from above. Rowan laughed, a sound of pure amusement as she stuck her tongue out to catch one, then frowned as it simply evaporated the second it heat his shield of heat. She fixed him with a glare as he shrugged at her, grinning at her with that damned half grin that showed off his fang. Her voice caught in her throat as she was struck with his beauty once more then, fire and life against a background of night.

“Hey, Mor. Rowan,” a voice called from behind them, and Morana’s face immediately fell. Knowing Rowan was already snarling beside her, she turned. Indeed, after his weeks of absence from her life despite her sending letters and asking after him, he was there. She did not miss the fact that he was clothed in heavy leathers with a thick fur-lined cloak wrapped around him, nor the fact that he was armed to the teeth. Strapped to his back was another sword, wrapped in a cloth to protect it, and a heavy leather satchel. Her heart stopped at the sight of it.

“Cordan-” she began, wanting to beg him to stay.

“I just came to say my goodbyes. No need to threaten me, Rowan, you’ve won. King Victor himself has found me a job that pays far too much on the rebellion borders so I am out of both of your hair. Let me just say goodbye, please.”

Morana turned to Rowan, her face pleading as his remained completely hostile. He looked down at her, tears threatening her perfect makeup, and the animosity dropped from his glare. With a frown, he finally nodded, retreating to the safety of the castle once more. Thankfully, her guard followed, giving her the privacy with Cordan she so desperately wanted.

“I’ve been trying to talk to you, Cordan. I have been trying to explain everything to you, to try and keep our friendship together, and you have blocked me at every turn. Not once has anybody known where you were, no matter how hard I begged and pleaded,” she said, watching as the snowflakes fell atop Cordan’s raven hair. With a sigh, she brought up her shields to protect them both from the cold, proud they were now solid enough for the snowflakes to gently rest atop.

“I needed space, Mor. I am sorry for worrying you, truly, but I just needed my time to sort everything. This is for the best. I’ll come back to visit occasionally if our new princeling doesn’t ban my presence.”

“Please don’t leave.” Despite her telling herself nothing was going to ruin this night, tears indeed hung at the borders of her eyelids, threatening to drag her eyeliner down her face. She turned her head upwards, blinking them away.

“Do you know why I have to leave, Mor? If you can answer that, I won’t. I will stay here no matter how much it pains me.” She looked at him, lost for words. He sighed, shaking his head. The words seemed to stick in his throat, a long moment passing before he could finally speak.“I know you don’t know enough of our world to realise it yet, but you are my mate gods damn it. How do you think it feels to watch you reject me and go and get betrothed to the first fae asshole you met without even giving me a chance? I can’t stand around and let that pain hang over me for centuries, no matter how much I love you. And I can’t ask you to choose differently, because as a princess he is exactly who you should be with.”

The tears came unbidden now, streaming down her face before she could even try and stop them. When she tried to speak, a broken sob burst from her lips instead. Gods, she was a fool, a damned fool. Remembering Rowan’s words, she reached out with her mind, seeing if she could find that tether that she had felt binding her and Cordan together. She pulled on it, something halfway between a sob and a laugh bubbling from her mouth when Cordan flinched in response. Without hesitation, Cordan pulled her in tight, wrapping his arms around her. She buried her face in his jacket, breathing in the scent of the leather and his pine and earth aroma. She was safe there, safe from all the world’s hurts.

Arms still around her, Cordan cursed. He planted a kiss on her forehead, then another on her cheek, attempting to wipe away her tears and ruined makeup. She merely clung to him, unable to do anything else. She was too deep in this mess, and she could see no safe way out.

“Mor, darling, do you trust me?” Cordan asked, his voice gentle and soothing. All she could do was manage to nod into his arms. “Follow me into the forest, just a little way. I have something I want to show you okay? You’ll be safe with me.”

Her heart was too raw, too shattered to try and protest. She simply nodded, allowing Cordan to drag her away. She did not care that her makeup was ruined and that despite that she would be late for her betrothal. She did not care that Rowan was likely getting antsy waiting for her to come back inside. She had not lied, she trusted Cordan completely, and knew whatever he was leading her to was going to help.

As the castle melted away in the darkness behind them and only the tree trunks stood watch, she wondered if this was truly such a good idea. Still sniffling, she walked obediently beside Cordan despite the hairs rising along her neck. When they finally stopped, Cordan stiff beside her himself, she felt she had made a mistake. She was just about to open her mouth and say something, ask what was happening when he materialised from the darkness.

“Why hello again, my pretty little princess. So lovely to see you tonight! I didn’t know if you would make it with your betrothal and all,” Raeth said in a sultry voice.

Knowing all of this was wrong, everything was wrong, Morana slammed up her shields as quickly as she could, feeling a wave of power crash against them. Raeth merely smiled in front of her as she grabbed Cordan’s arm, trying to pull him backwards.

Just as she was about to turn and run, to try and get back within the reach of safety, she felt something crack against her head and her world tilt. Like a marionette with its strings cut, she fell to the ground, crumpled in a heap.

“I’m sorry, Mor. I am so, so sorry,” Cordan whispered from somewhere beside her. She lashed out in the direction with whatever she could, knowing this was his fault. He had used that damned bond to trick her into coming here, ruining everything. She should have just done as Rowan wanted and she would be safe.

As she tried to stand, to get back to safety, the world still spinning, she felt hands grab the back of her dress. She screamed, a blood-curdling scream loud enough to wake the dead, and then something covered her mouth. One strangled breath against the cloth was all it took. Her body stopped working, her limbs too heavy to move, her eyelids heavy to open. And she collapsed into those hands, the last of her fading dregs of consciousness knowing she was completely alone.

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