Page 6 of Fated (Lords Of Time)

A DOMINA FINDS HER ONE

Eris wakes the next day to Ribbon hissing her cheek.

“Good morning Ribbon.”

“Good morning love. Are you ready to continue?”

“I suppose I am? I must, either way.”

“Yesss, you mussst. We’ve naught but a week to fix what’s gone awry, sso we mussstn’t ssstop!”

Eris rises and walks out into the forest, pulling fresh water from the well pump, and, “duck,” she warns, before splashing her face so Ribbon can hide in the thorny locks. She collects eggs from the subdued quail in the coop, milks the crooked cow, and pulls a few mushrooms from the earth.

When they return to the hovel the cats seem to be calmer, somewhat friendlier.

Eris sits at the table chopping up their meals and serving each in its’ own little dish with a gentle scratch under the chin.

She fixes herself a small plate of small eggs, cooked, and leaves one in the basket for Ribbon, raw, still shelled.

Then they return to the well.

She once again lifts the fabric to her lap, secure from the edge. First, she searches for Francine and Gideon, but she can’t find them in all those threads, they’re once again lost in time to her.

“As it should be, I suppose.”

She smoothes the fabric, searching for the knots she’d made.

She found one, strong with purples and blues and she inspects her hands looking for the length of it there.

It starts at her index finger and travels down to her palm and across her lifeline to her wrist, fading into the blue vein at the center of it.

She holds the thread next to it and searches the fabric for another.

“Oh!” she says as her crown tips forward on her head and Ribbon slips, righting himself when she straightens.

“Apologiesss, I was a bit too invesssted.”

Eris laughs then, smoothing a hand across his scales, “Of course you were, Ribbon, you see everything I see. You know, too, how important this is.”

Ribbon hisses. She leans forward once again, “Careful now.”

She runs her finger down the first thread, closing her eyes and searching.

A man appears— abused, outcast, alone. He lived on the fringes of his family, his life.

He hid who he truly was from everyone around him, the pain of his reality so deep he’d not a soul to share with.

He walked through life, solitary, angry, quiet.

He honed his fighting skill, became fearsome and feared.

Scarred. No matter who tried to embrace him he was distant, apart, never belonging anywhere, regardless of his title and command.

The pain was his sole companion. The pain helped him survive, helped him face every new dawn, helped him to live.

He leaned into it, became more and more reclusive.

More and more alone, until the only comfort he carried was that physical pain. Without it he was lost.

“Warrick,” Eris said, “Oh, Warrick, what I’ve taken from you, I’m sorry.”

She runs her hand across the fabric, her eyes closed until her finger catches on a tell-tale lump. A spark of violet shoots up her finger and she stops, leaning in.

A woman, alone, searching. Eris takes a sudden breath at the recognition of this woman who could be her twin. Her heart reaches for her, wanting a connection with a woman who’s her match— save the thorns, the flames, and the snake.

“Oh, Erisss, love.”

“I know,” she said, “I know.” A love she would…

never know but longed to, desperately. How could she ever be close to someone when she’s covered with thorns?

She didn’t even have the freedom of existing fully in her own skin, much less sharing it with someone else.

Eris takes a deep breath to cleanse her mind and concentrates on the woman who reflects her so much it hurts.

“But she’s not me, Ribbon, and I must return her. ”

Lulu felt unsafe her entire life, and she chose to lean in to power. She became a dominatrix, a Domina, never letting anyone get close to her. She maintained all the control, all the power, but retained none of the intimacy.

Eris pauses, takes a breath, begins again.

Lulu believes she’s happy, that this is the life she’s meant to. She doesn’t know what she’s lost, what could have been. She doesn’t know who she’s lost. She doesn’t know that she’s the one who was truly lost, and he’s been searching his entire life to find her.

Eris ties the safety cords on the two threads, her fingers shaking, her nerves tangled and on edge. Ribbon watches intently from her crown, his eyes wide and excited.

Lulu stepped up to the man, Oliver, on his knees, his back bare, a bullwhip in each of her hands.

She struck in tandem, a pattern forming on the skin of his strong, broad back.

Wings. Wings of flesh, and finally, blood.

Two tiny rills of it from beside his spine trickle down to the edge of his hips pooling in the little dimples there.

His head bowed she stepped back to her camera to capture the moment— he’s beautiful, everything Lulu had ever wanted— but she still felt hollow, like a reed, whistling in the breeze. Inconsequential.

In the other thread Warrick caught his fiancée as she fell to the floor, after stamping out the fire from her dress.

Saving her from pain, from tragedy, he held her— ashamed that he angered her in such a way that she’d be so careless.

Angry with himself for following the order to marry her in his brother’s place. She doesn’t deserve someone like him—

Eris cuts the threads. Reties them together. Holds them against her heart. Lulu opens her eyes in Warrick’s arms his face so raw and angry she’s instantly lost in his pain. One look and he was done, undone, he felt… everything.

The thread pulses and straightens, strengthening, slipping, returning to the fold, disappearing as Eris collapses on the floor, exhausted, lost to a deep sleep.

Warrick and Lulu’s story can be found in the illustrated novel: The Duke and The Domina.