Page 56 of Dreams and Dragon Wings (Clean Fairytales for Adults #2)
Aurelia
M y heart threatens to flutter straight from my chest as music finally trills to life beyond the safety of the sitting room we are using for my bridal suite.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror, despairing over the fact that I currently burn like the evening star, making it impossible to see the extraordinary gown I wear.
And after my fathers both worked so hard on it, too.
Calm. I must be calm, I remind myself.
I breathe in through my mouth and out through my nose. Finally, my glow dims just enough that the frothy confection of alabaster silk, lace, and delicate floral embroidery draped on my form can once again be seen against my luminous skin.
“You can be whatever you want to be,” comes Bene's voice across our bond, a hint of amusement threading through the words. “You are the Queen of the Flora Vale and soon to be the Queen of all Drakara. It is your wedding day. Who can deny you anything?”
“Oh, hush,” I chide him, fighting against a laugh. “Stay out of my thoughts, Na’theryn . It is bad luck to see a bride before the wedding.”
“I cannot see you,” he answers me at once, warmth and love radiating through the link binding us. “But I count the moments until I can.”
“It is time,” Papa announces as he steps in close. Groaning, he lowers himself to his knees to fuss with my gown's train again. The late afternoon light streaming in through the window illuminates his still somewhat gaunt form. A year of his strange illness has left Giles Weaver looking weak.
But time spent soaking in the Living Waters has made him whole.
The silver hair atop his head has a bit of shine to it now. His warm brown eyes are once again bright with life as he stares at the gown he designed, but that my birth father helped craft with weaves of Earth.
I swallow hard against the rising lump in my throat and try not to cry at the sight.
Thank you, Na’Eruv, for helping him.
“Lord Rowan!” Papa worriedly calls.
My birth father appears at once and joins Papa in his crouch.
No longer a twisted husk of his former self, Rowan val’Anasi looks every inch the elf the Great Weaver showed me in the pool within Castle Illume’s chapel. Tall. Strong. With chestnut skin, eyes like spring, and umber hair streaked with hints of gray.
“ Vaei , Master Giles?”
“I thought we finally agreed these should be purple?” Papa frets, rubbing his thumb against the pink roses embroidered along the edge of my wedding gown’s train.
Father frowns at him. “But our daughter’s favorite color is pink.”
“Yes, yes, but the royal color is purple. Surely the dragons will take offense if their future queen is not wearing their color.” Despite his words, he sounds uncertain. “Will they not?”
And thank you , I add to my prayer, smiling down at both of them, for blessing me with these two wonderful fathers.
Rowan tilts his head from side to side in a so-so gesture before sending out a delicate thread of Earth that changes the embroidered roses, the pink diamonds about my throat, and the crystal flowers pinned in my hair from their dusty pink hue to a rich purple instead.
The moment he does, Velda, Brisa, and Glorana flit into the room through the open window, nervous energy crackling off the three of them.
Delicately, Velda explains, “We came to make sure all was well. The people are growing anxious for their first glimpse of the Therya’kai .”
But it is Brisa who gasps at the sight of me. “The roses!” she points at the train of my gown. “They’re supposed to be pink!”
My fathers share a glance.
Clearing his throat, Rowan begins to say, “Yes, but Master Giles thought—”
Brisa doesn’t listen. “Change them, Glorana!” she demands, grabbing her sister’s hand and waving it at me. Scowling, the plump pixie explains, “Bene is wearing a pink rose. The garden is filled with pink roses. Therefore, the roses on the gown must be pink .”
With a sigh, Glorana sends out a thread of Earth to change the embroidery and my accessories all back to their original hue. “For once, my sister’s logic is sound.”
Papa rises from his crouch and draws himself up to his full height. “Now, see here, ladies. While I appreciate your concern, Lord Rowan and I are the designers of the Therya’fey ’s gown, and we think, as the future Queen of Drakara, she should be wearing the royal color. Which is purple.”
My father nods once, clearly in agreement, and sends out a weave of Earth to change it all back from pink to purple.
Brisa scowls at both of them.
But Glorana is quick to point out, “Their logic is also sound.”
Velda looks at me and shakes her head, as if exasperated by her sisters’ antics already. Even so, it is easy enough for me to see the smile dancing in her eyes.
Finally, I speak up. “As the future Therya’kai , it is my desire to represent both who I am today as well as who I intend to be tomorrow.” Glancing down at my gown’s train, I decide, “The roses should be both pink and purple.”
Rowan and Glorana stare at each other for the span of a single heartbeat before they nod in unison and turn their attentions toward my attire.
With joined weaves of Earth, they expertly transform my accessories into a shimmering display of otherworldly jewels that dance between shades of rose, lavender, and plum.
Even the flowers stitched upon my gown now gleam with iridescent threads, rendering them either pink or purple depending upon the way the light falls against them.
“Perfect,” Papa whispers, tears in his eyes.
My father agrees with a quiet, “Vaei,” and presses a gentle kiss to my cheek.
Brisa sniffs and dabs at her eyes before she opens the door for us with a weave of Air.
With Giles Weaver on my right arm and Rowan val’Anasi on my left, I step out of the sitting room and pass through the glittering open-air ballroom where the reception is to be held later, and then further still, to the yawning stone archway that leads out to my favorite place in all the Aerie—
The Sky Garden.
Thunderous cheers echo through the windcourt when my fathers and I finally appear in the archway and gaze across the multitude of floating islands hanging suspended there, each coated in lush flowers and verdant greenery.
Upon the one furthest away, standing beneath a bower of pink roses, is my dragon king, resplendent in a suit of purple with a single pink rose adorning the lapel—the very rose I gifted him the day we met.
The Corona Ignis flares bright on his brow, wreathing him in arcs of kaleidoscopic power as beautiful as the depths of the Living Waters themselves.
Mama stands in a place of honor at his side, where Bene’s own mother should be, beaming as she plays the role of the late Queen Serenity in a sparkling gown of rich purple and a crown of amethysts to match my groom.
Bene’s eyes burn in their fixation upon me. Even from that great distance, his gaze is for me and me alone. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming, Na’therya ,” he teases me across the bond.
As he speaks, he unfurls a weave of Air toward me—a lavender bridge across which I am meant to walk to signify my leaving behind my old life and making the journey toward my new.
Toward him. Toward Bene. My oldest friend. My best friend.
My future.
“Never,” I vow to him as my fathers each kiss my cheeks and then let me go, leaving me stepping out into the open sky alone, with nothing to support me but the swirl of Bene’s magic beneath my feet.
Dragons roar when I take that first step.
Pixies clap and fling multi-hued sparkles into the air.
Elves weave flowers into being and toss them at my feet as I float past, step by step, like a woman caught in the most wonderful dream.
Lord Reginald Lockhart—the only human beyond my adopted parents invited to the wedding—cheers loudest of them all.
“I have made a vow of Always to my future husband,” I remind Bene, luring a brilliant smile to his lips. “And I do not intend to break it now.”
The hint of mischief that sparks to life within my drakir ’s heart is all the warning I receive before the bridge of Air beneath me shifts into motion, bearing me swiftly the rest of the way toward the final island where Bene waits to receive me.
Our wedding guests cheer again, clearly approving of their king’s impatience. But then again, I suppose they are impatient, too. They have been waiting for this moment a long time—for my mother’s prophecy to finally come to fruition.
For Drakara to know an era of peace and prosperity once more.
“ Na’therya ,” Bene greets me as the Air beneath my feet gently deposits me on the soft turf before him. His eyes crinkle at the corners with his cheeky smile. Under his breath, he adds, “Have I ever told you that you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen?”
My glow flares brighter, no doubt blinding all. But I cannot help it. My happiness is beyond containment now.
Her cheeks already agleam with tears, Mama takes a single step forward and calls out, as we rehearsed, “I see one before me who is worthy of joining my son in marriage.” Another Air weave from Bene sends her voice winging into the heavens so that all may hear.
I call back on a weave of my own making, “I see one before me who has forged my drakir into a great Theryn’kai. ”
Fingers trembling, Mama removes the crown she wears and waits for me to sink into a curtsy before she places it atop my head instead. “I love you, sweetheart,” she whispers for my ears alone while leaning in to kiss my cheek.
“I love you, too,” I mouth back, my gaze following her as she steps aside, letting the ceremony continue.
Bene’s hand wraps around mine, warm and secure, as Lord Mercy—our master of ceremonies—descends from the sky and shifts into his human form to oversee the exchanging of vows.
My vision mists with happy tears, blurring the scene before me.
But even through the shimmer of my joy, I can still see the flower that drifts toward me on a warm breeze, as if borne all the way from the high mountains ringing the Aerie just so it could be here today. For that is the only place where such extraordinary flowers can be found.
It is an aetherbloom, one of the rarest of Drakaran flowers.
I reach out my free hand and let the beautiful lily settle in my palm, its petals swirled with streaks of blue and gold alongside silver freckles that sparkle like starlight—just like the one Bene gifted me all those years ago when we were children.
But I know this one is a gift from someone else entirely.
Thank you , I send up in yet another prayer as the first of my tears fall. For watching over me. For keeping me safe. For… for everything .
The Aether twirls around me as if in reply, though it does not speak. It does not need to.
I know now my God is with me always, even when He is silent.
Lord Mercy’s voice floats toward me, drawing me back to the present when he prompts, “Do you, Benevolence of House Radiata, Theryn’kai , take Aurelia Weaver val’Anasi as your lawfully wedded drakira ?
To cherish and protect from this day forward?
For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, ’til death do you part? ”
Across the bond, my dragon king’s love burns bright.
Slowly, my gaze lifts to find him looking down at me, tears in his own eyes. “ Vaei ,” he says, his voice strong and ringing out for all to hear. “ Tir’anor .”
“And do you, Aurelia Weaver val’Anasi, Therya’fey , take Benevolence of House Radiata as your lawfully wedded drakir ? To love and honor from this day forward? For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, ’til death do you part?”
“Vaei, ” I somehow manage around my trembling lips, luring another radiant smile to Bene’s visage. “ Tir’anor .”
No sooner do I utter the words than I find myself within my husband’s arms, being swept up into another of his breath-stealing kisses. Around us, the sky thunders with the cheers of our people. Lord Mercy’s final words proclaiming us Theryn and Therya’kai are lost beneath their celebration.
Through the bond, we share an effervescent happiness.
Upon our lips, tears and joy mingle into one.
Already, we have endured so much together, Bene and I. Years of longing and friendship. Weeks of nightmares and dreams. But in truth, our adventure is only just beginning.
My husband and I have made a vow of Always and we have no intention of breaking it.
Not now. Not ever.
Only curses are meant to be broken, after all.
But our love?
Our love endures.
The End