Chapter Text
(Sarkan)
I arrived just this afternoon, the day of the valleys’ harvest festival. I told everyone I meet along the way that I had come to collect the taxes. But of course I had come for another reason.
The months I spent in Kralia had really taken their toll on me. I suppose I had neglected that, ‘another reason’ for far too long. As I looked at myself in the mirror of the small room I was renting at the inn in Olshanka - where I actually did collect the taxes mind you - I saw that my lavish outfit did nothing to hide my thinner frame or paler face.
Although I felt better then I have in months, I still was running on very little sleep. The shadows under my eyes a telling sign. Before I arrived, I was so nervous thinking of how I would explain myself; my abrupt departure, my lack of even a short letter. I spent half my nights thinking of what to say, and the other half crafting my little savior should my words fail me.
I stuffed the bit of magic in my breast pocket and took one last look at myself, running a hand through my hair and straightening my dragon embroidered jacket. I gripped the wash basin bracing myself as I swayed a little with exhaustion and nervousness, taking in a final steadying breath.
“Time to go make a fool of yourself,” I said to the sickly looking, absurdly over dressed man in the mirror as I spelled myself to Dvernik.
(Agnieszka)
“Come and meet my mother,” I said. I reached out and took his hand.
It was just as I remembered it, the strength of his clasp, the unusual warmth that penetrated his skin and the way those long pen-callused finger tips brushed the underside of my wrist. My heart did a happy flutter as I pulled him over to my mothers chair. The sociable smells of fire roasted meat and good spirits still hung heavily in the air. The harvest festival rebellious to wind down even in the sleepy orange glow of the setting sun.
He was definitely not in his element, dressed for the fancy ballrooms of Kralia rather than our rustic festival. To see him among the throng of our celebration was so perfectly out of place, needless to say, he turned more than a few heads. I could tell he almost wanted to pull away but wouldn’t dare with the eyes of the entire village on him, standing out like a swan in a coup of barnyard chickens. His lips thinned in prickly mortification as we stood in front of my mothers’ chair, pink touching his cheeks.
I didn’t feel sorry for the pink, however. He hadn’t written and left without much explanation. I almost wanted to be mad at him but couldn’t. I suppose his little bit of embarrassment was the only small punishment I could muster.
After all, I had no doubt that he was not just here for the taxes and for that I was glad, the suspicion in my heart confirmed. Certainly, the taxes where collected in Olshanka. He had no business in a small village like Dvernik. And of course if he were worried about the effect of the river water, he would have at least stayed away for another ten years or so, and hired a representative to do the collecting for him.
“Mother, I would like you to meet Sarkan, lord of our valley.” He gingerly pulled his hand free from mine to shake my mothers, each of them bowing to the other respectfully. There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence until Sarkan finally found his words. Through all his obvious unease he still spoke eloquently as ever.
“You must be very proud of your daughter. Without her help I’m sure I would have failed more than once to protect this valley from the Woods corruption. She has been invaluable to us all. If you or any other member of her family should need anything at all, I am personally at your service.” It was so strange to hear him give me such high compliments after all his reprimands when he first started teaching me magic. I couldn’t help the smile that tugged on the corner of my lips. I took up his hand again, feeling him stiffen slightly with nervousness.
“I am honored, my lord.” My mother bowed again, but he waved her off and motioned for her to sit back down in her chair.
“Just Sarkan will do.” My mother nodding in response. “I don’t feel I deserve to be honored however.” He spoke a little louder seeing that many of the villagers had gone quiet, listening to him speak to my mother, too drunk on beer and dancing to be polite. “Agnieszka had informed me that some of you thought I was taking the girls to… That my reasons for taking them were...” Eloquence failing, I was now even beginning to feel sorry for his mortification. The low light of the evening fire unable to conceal his fully flushed face.
“I have explained this to my mother and all the villagers already. You only took us to cut off some of the Woods power. We all have a connection to this land through drinking the Spindle's water and that could be used as a channel to weaken the Wood.” A look of relief flooded his face as I saved him.
“Thank you, Agnieszka but I still owe your mother an apology.” He put his other hand on the feasting table next to my mother as if he were fighting to support some tremendous weight and leaned in slightly towards her. “I was so bent on doing anything I could to stop the Wood, I didn’t think to explain myself. I didn’t think of how it might look. To say, ‘I’m sorry’ is surely not enough but I am deeply sorry. I only hope that you could forgive me one day.”
“If you truly mean what you say, then today I can forgive you, my lor- Sarkan. I just have one question.” My mother bit her bottom lip, unsure of herself.
“Anything,” Sarkan coaxed.
“Why girls?”
“I took girls because we live in a society that generally favors a male heir,” he explained. “The valley is mainly made up of farmers and merchants. Most boys, at their coming of age, begin to learn the trade of their fathers so that they can eventually inherit their business. While girls will just begin courting and probably get married off anyhow. I didn’t feel I had the right to disrupt a families way of making a living. If I thought – well I suppose I wasn’t thinking, but if I thought you all saw me as some kind of...monster, I would have found a different way or at the very least explained myself.
“Of course I won’t be taking any girls anymore. I hear the Wood is Agnieszka’s charge now. If half the rumors are true she’s doing a far better job than I ever could.” I couldn’t help but smile at the unmistakable pride in his voice.
I caught my mother now eyeing our clasped hands – a sign of courtship, with questioning eyes. I was surprised at how quickly she became at ease around Sarkan because she didn’t let her eyes be the only part of her that did the questioning.
“I am glad you do not need to take girls from the valley anymore, but you do seem quite taken with my daughter,” gesturing at our clasped hands. In some situations my mother possessed an even sharper tongue than Sarkan. I could feel him trying to let go of my hand subtly but I only held tighter.
“Well we… I… Agnieszka and I haven’t even discussed anything yet.” All his initial eloquence out the window.
All formality abandon, my mother looked to me. A hint of excitement in her voice. “So when did this all begin?”
Sarkan and I really did need to discuss things first, and though in my heart I was sure of his reasons for coming back, I needed to hear it from him before I could confirm our courtship. However, some small remnant resentment churned deep within my belly at the way he had left. I knew I wasn’t corrupted but perhaps some of the sorrows still hidden in the Wood had affected me and I needed to see him squirm with embarrassment just one last time.
“Well Mother, it all started the night Prince Marek attacked Sarkans’ tower,” I said sweetly, knowing Sarkan would surely let me go no further. Memories of that night in his bedroom flashed before my eyes heating my cheeks and churning my core. I was taken aback by just how much I was effected. During his absence, though I cared for him deeply and did miss him, I tried not to dwell on the idea of him coming back. I kept myself busy with my work in the Wood and was very content with my life. But now the full force of just how much I did miss him was rising to the surface. Even my magic seemed hungry for his, humming close to the surface of my skin.
His interruption on cue, “Agnieszka!” he said far too loudly. “I promised you a dance and if I’m not mistaken I think the band is on their last set for the evening,” his face had gone paler than parchment.
After some parting words to my mother and a promise that I would talk to her more about it tomorrow, Sarkan directed me towards the music.
“What were you telling her you, reckless renegade?” The moment we were out of ear shot.
We walked past the row of serving tables, full of crumbs and picked clean of the best foods. A few happy flies buzzed about the ravaged remains, beginning a feast of their own. Sarkan only scowled at the mess.
“Did you actually think I was going to give my mother details of the night we spent together?” I teased.
“Well of course I didn’t!” his feathers ruffled, his nerves getting the better of his usual quick intelligence. “But with you, one can never be too sure,” he amended. We walked slowly towards the music as he listened intently while I explained to him how I was cleansing the Wood. He was curious to hear the details but still a little worry crept into his features. I knew it would take him some time to fully trust that I was handling the Wood.
We stopped and stood at the edge of the circle, the last orange rays of sunlight illuminating the tops of the trees. We watched the bustle of flowing skirts and quick steps pass us by in whirls. The music at a fast paced, lively beat. The grass had already been stamped into oblivion with happy feet.
We stood side by side watching the dancing for what seemed like a long time. I caught Sarkan eyeing me with a look I couldn’t quite decipher. A look I could only describe as fascinated concentration, as if he were working one of his more intricate spells. A memory of the almost passionate spark in his eye when his face caught the spell light.
Every now and then, I saw many of the villagers give him sidelong looks as he stood with me on the edge of the dancing circle, curious to see if he would actually dance. The Dragon participating in a festival was so new to us I understood their reasons for staring. I saw two of the boys I had danced with earlier on the other side of the circle, pointing at us with unbridled interest.
“Agnieszka,” he said, a note of worry in his voice. “Can I talk to you some place more… private.” I think he was starting to feel the eyes on him.
“No,” I said flatly. “I’m not letting you off the hook that easily. I believe you promised me a dance.”
“That was just to stop you from saying something vulgar to your mother you, impossible creature! Anyway, I don’t think it would due well for my toes when you start stepping on my feet,” more tease than insult.
“Well Kasia’s brothers thought I was a pretty good dancer.”
His eyes narrowed in defeat, maybe even a hint of jealousy. “Fine.”
With his unusual strength he pulled me to the center of our makeshift dance floor. We positioned ourselves further apart to accommodate for the quick step of the lively beat but as soon as we did the music changed to a slower melody. Sarkan looked up and scowled at the sky as if someone up there decided to annoy him at every turn today. The quieter tune forced our bodies closer as we swayed to its lazy sound.
At first Sarkan’s movements were a little ridged, while mine were a bit clumsy. As he predicted, I almost did step on his feet. Almost. But after our initial moment of awkwardness, we began quickly to compliment each other. It reminded me of the way we would work a spell together. Though our magic was very different, each came together and filled in where the others was lacking to form something perfectly complete.
Before long, his rigidness made me seem more graceful, while my clumsiness made him appear more loose. Our dance was becoming just as powerful as our combined magic, beautiful and whole, something greater than the sum of its parts. His hands gently rested on my waist. The familiar warmth of them quickly penetrating my light sundress. While my hands gripped his thin shoulders.
As I held on to him I noticed his shoulders felt even thinner than usual. And when the firelight illuminated his face from the blurry dusk around us, I saw shadows under his eyes as if he were very tired or had been ill. Yet, his expression seemed soft. A look of relief flooded his features despite his tired eyes and thinner frame. I half wondered if he used his elaborate dress to hide his slightly stricken look.
As we turned and swayed the music took us under its’ power too, like wind takes fields of grass in the breeze. The music having its own kind of magic. Sarkan and I caught in the wind of its spell. A spell so powerful it was as if the music was only for us. Our dance on a separate plane entirely from the rest of the festival. We were dancing so beautifully for a moment I thought maybe he really was using magic to move us so.
“Of course not. You forget I was raised in Kralia where it is practically mandatory to be a good dancer.”
When the music stopped our hands seemed to find one another on instinct. Suddenly I felt the warm prickle of his magic run up my arms. I saw his shoulders stiffen with surprise as I was sure some involuntary magic of my own had reached out and touched him as well. A sudden urge to kiss him almost over took me despite the curious eyes of half of Dvernik on us. The quiet heat of his stare spoke of similar feelings. Our faces slowly drifting closer on opposing currents set to collide.
“I really missed you.” Speaking before his gaze could catch me on fire.
Without warning he pulled me flush against his chest and I felt the sudden whirl of his transportation spell.