Page 24 of Atop the Faerie Throne (The Fifth Nicnevin #5)
Twenty-Three
Rhoswyn
I laugh through Dare’s antics at dinner with the rest of my Guard and family, share goodnight kisses with Lore before he disappears to ‘play in the dungeons,’ and wish Bree luck as he leaves for another session with Priestess Claudri.
I expected Drystan to order Caed back to a cell, but the dullahan merely banished him to his room, then left with a long, lingering look at me and a flicker down our bond that echoed with inexplicable uncertainty.
He’s probably sitting downstairs in their common area right now, just to make sure Caed doesn’t try anything.
I find myself listening for any sign of them below as Jaro curls around me in his wolf form. He’s been asleep for the last hour, his soft, wolfy breaths rumbling through me in a way I normally find soothing. Every now and again Wraith, at the foot of the bed, makes a small sleep-yip, and the wolf beside me twitches, stirring just long enough to make sure there’s no threat before allowing me to stroke him back to sleep again.
It’s comfortable. Soothing. I’m surrounded by soft silk, kept warm by the magic of my garden room, and the night is peaceful and still.
It should be laughably easy to embrace unconsciousness, especially when compared to nights on the road during my pilgrimage.
We’ve kicked Elatha back to the mountains. I forced the minor royals to acknowledge me as Nicnevin. We did it. My Guard is home, safe. So am I.
But at what cost?
Bram will never sleep in soft sheets in his own bed again, nor will Ascal, Kendel, Merith, Ghislane, and countless others. So many dead, never to see the stillness of an easy spring night like this. Never to hug the ones they love.
I don’t know when the first tear falls into Jaro’s fur. I try to stay silent, but either the moisture or the mating bond wakes him, and he shifts. Strong, calloused hands grip my shoulders, pulling me against his warm chest as he makes a noise of distress deep in his throat.
“Rosie, what’s wrong?” he asks, voice rough with sleep.
I shake my head mutely. My lips are fused shut, throat swollen closed with sobs I refuse to release.
Jaro pulls the covers around us as he leans against the headboard.
“Shh, hey, Rosie. It’s okay.” He might not even know why he’s comforting me, but it helps.
The reminder of his solid, dependable nature somehow makes my weeping worse.
“You don’t have to be quiet,” he whispers, wiping the tears away with his thumbs as soon as they come. “You’re not inconveniencing anyone by grieving.”
“It’s not that.” I draw ragged air into my lungs as my eyes burn and my mouth fills with the taste of salt. “I just… I’m being stupid. I should be happy, right?”
Jaro pauses. “You’re feeling guilty.”
No. Guilt is too simple a word for the venomous knot of shame and sorrow inside me.
His warm breath flutters softly over my scalp. “I can’t help but think, if I’d never lost the outer wall, we wouldn’t have reached this point.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I reply, automatically, then make a face as I understand his point. Quieter, I mutter, “It’s not the same.”
“We both made mistakes that led to a lot of deaths,” Jaro corrects. “Am I wrong?”
No, but…
“They should be here,” I finally confess. “Bram… Ghislane… the Knights… Goddess, those are just the ones I can name. There were so many fae in those camps. So many more died beneath the mountain. What right do I have to any of this?” I cut off, gesturing wildly at my beautiful, serene room.
I should’ve been stronger from the start, should’ve insisted on cutting short the stupid pilgrimage and demanded the minor royals swear their vows… But I didn’t. I didn’t try hard enough. Didn’t do enough.
“I sat in Siabetha for weeks, wasting time. I was such an idiot to believe—And I could’ve?—”
I’m not making sense, and frustration claws beneath my skin, culminating in an embarrassing squeak-sob.
Jaro’s bafflement and distress hits me down the bond, followed by a wave of his own grief. “All of them knew the risks, Rosie. None of them would want you to feel this way.”
That doesn’t make it better. In fact, their hypothetical forgiveness just makes me cry harder. Jaro huffs out a breath, then tries again.
“When I was young, I went through a phase where I blamed Florian for the death of my Pa.”
The words are a whispered confession, and I frown. Jaro? Blame Florian? I can’t believe it. He treats my older brother like his own.
“I asked Fionn and Oren how they could bear to be Knights of Elfhame, serving under him, when his orders were the ones Pa followed to his grave. I was a stupid kid, who’d never known his father, looking for someone to blame that on.
“My brothers boxed me around the ears for spouting that shit,” Jaro says, almost ruefully. “Then dragged my ungrateful ass back to our ma. Do you know what she told me?”
I can’t even imagine what you’d say to a child who was hurting like that, so I shake my head.
“She said that her mate died with pride, doing what he believed in, to protect and serve those he loved, and it wasn’t for us to dishonour his choice.” He pauses. “She wept as she said it.”
“Did it help?”
He huffs out a laugh. “No. I was a pretty dumb kid. All it showed me was that my mother was still crying because of a call Florian made.”
“Then what changed your mind?”
“Following my pa’s footsteps and joining the Knights. Every time I fought back against a Fomorian raid, I was doing it for my sisters, for my ma. I realised that if I died there and then, I wouldn’t regret it. He didn’t either.”
Jaro swallows, and I feel his chest rise with a ragged breath. “Bram, Pa, and the others died protecting those they loved. They’d come back and do it all over again.”
I trace a nonsense design through the curls on his chest, waiting for him to finish.
“Danu might’ve made the Guard immortal,” Jaro finally says. “But I would die for you in a heartbeat.”
A fresh wave of tears blights my cheeks, and I press a kiss to whatever skin I can reach.
“I love you,” I whisper to him. “And I would die for you a hundred times over.”
His arms tighten. “I love you too, but no more deaths. Feeling what you felt when you came back… Goddess, I never want you to go through that again.”
The two of us lapse into silence for a few minutes.
“My pa was buried on the wall… You summoned him with the others.”
Oh Goddess. “Jaro,” I whisper sadly. “I didn’t know.”
He never so much as mentioned…
“No. I’m glad you did. I got to fight alongside him. You gave me that.” He takes my chin gently between his large fingers, pulling my tear-stained face up to his. “Look, winning this war was never going to come without pain. I’m not sure if anything I can say will make it better, or ease the hurt, but I’m here, too, feeling a lot of the same things, and if you need to talk about it, I’ll always listen.”
Sighing, I kiss his full lips, then snuggle myself back into his arms.
“You’ve given me a lot to think about,” I whisper, clearing the lump of sadness from my throat. “And I’m sorry. It might’ve been good to fight with your pa, but I know it probably hurt, too.”
Just like seeing Bram’s ghost is a double-edged sword for me.
“It goes both ways,” I finish, lamely. “If you want to talk, that is.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but stops, frowning as he catches sight of something behind me.
“Redcap, if you try to bring those into this bed, I will personally shove them up your ass one by one, sideways .”
Lore whistles innocently. “What if they’re my emotional support arms?”
Turning in the sheets, I try to suppress a giggle-grimace. He’s holding three different arms against his chest, all of them severed and missing several fingers.
“Don’t get your furry knickers in a twist,” Lore continues, after a long moment of stony silence from Jaro. “They’re a treat for Wraith for being such a good puppy.”
Wraith, at the end of the bed, opens one sleepy eye, nose twitching. The barghest deliberates for a second, then flips onto his back, his lupine lips parting to let out a hearty burp before returning to sleep.
Lore pouts. “No fair, I picked the best ones for you, you ungrateful?—”
“Why don’t you get cleaned up and then come and snuggle me?” I ask, not quite managing to keep a hint of my earlier vulnerability from creeping into my voice. “It’s late.”
Those vivid red eyes shine in the gloom, and he blinks away. It only takes him a handful of minutes to return, still damp and completely naked.
Jaro lets out a deep sigh as Lore jumps onto the bed, then blinks beneath the covers, his skin cold against mine. The redcap’s hand instantly searches between my thighs, searching out his mark and covering it. Jaro does the same, kissing his mark on the side of my neck.
Despite my earlier belief that I might be physically unable to sleep, the comfort seeping through our bond from both of their touches helps.
Tiredness weighs down on me, and I’m almost asleep when Lore’s lips find my ear, kissing the point before whispering.
“I collected their heads for you, pet. They’re hanging from the city walls in pretty garlands.”
I’m exhausted enough that I don’t even question it.