Rising from the Ashes

The walk to the village was long, quiet, slightly awkward, and very beautiful. The paths leading to the villages back home are cracked and forgotten about. Here the cobblestone is well kept and cared for. Even outside of the kingdom walls, there is nature at every turn and most of it is magical. Elenora can feel the magic beat through the lands as if it were her own body. It’s everywhere and Elenora cannot help but fall in love just a little. “You think my father was a better ruler.” King Stavros is not one for beating around the bush it would seem. The question came out of nowhere and so Elenora had no time to prepare for a good answer.

Elenora chooses honesty instead “I do think he was a better ruler.” Elenora confirms. It is not what the king had wanted to hear and it is written clearly on his face. Elenora merely shrugs and continues “There was a time I had loved you. I was proud to say you were my king and I had dreamed of meeting you.” Elenora had dreamed of telling him. She had dreamed that he might swoop in and save her. It had not happened. She had saved herself. “I had hoped I might meet you. I had hoped that Vermont -”

“Vito.” King Stavros corrects, his voice hard

Elenora stares at him for a good moment. He is angry. At her? No. He must be mad at Vito. Is he like her? Does he think about all Vito had stolen from him? Does he think about the way things might have been if Vito had not? Does he think about the lost possibilities? “It doesn’t matter what name he lives under now. All that matters is what he has taken. I thought you might save me King Stavros, but that never happened. I saved myself and then the man I thought you were crumbled before I could truly realize what was happening. I was forced to see that the loving, kind, patient king who never turns a blind eye had looked away as rogues were getting tortured.”

“Rogues are insane Muriel.” King Stavros shoves his hands deep into his fancy pants and turns away from her. It pisses her off though Elenora does not dare let it show. Instead she grabs his arm and forces him to face her. To look at her. To see.

“Some are.” Elenora admits “Most are.” She is quick to correct. She has not forgotten the rogues she came across just as she has not forgotten the packs and all they had done “But most were driven to insanity. Rogues become rogues for three reasons: King Stavros. They betrayed their pack and so they were banished. This is what people believe to be the most common reason. It is not. They left their pack because they prefer to be alone. Rare but it happens.” Elenora pauses just long enough to make sure he is paying attention. He will not turn away from this truth. He will not turn a blind eye “And the third reason is because they chose to run rather than take the abuse. They saved themselves because nobody else saw them. Then as soon as they turned rogue they were forced to realize they only prolonged their suffering-”

“Muriel-”

“I am not done King Stavros.” Elenora steps back and shoves her own hands in her pockets. She focuses her glare on the cobblestone instead of on him “They ran from the abuse only to get hunted by packs as if they were prey. Who cares if it is against the law? Who cares if the king said not to hunt them down because the king had already proven the word of a rogue means nothing. To report a pack is to be sentenced to death and so let the grand hunt begin. Bonus points if you manage to force yourself on the dirty little rogues you find. If you beat them to death nobody will bat an eye, in fact, you will be celebrated.” Elenora forces herself to look up and in her head she chants do not cry. Crying is for the weak and vulnerable and Elenora is none of those things. She cannot afford to be. “And so they become insane King Stavros because it becomes so much easier to survive if you fall into a different reality. Insanity becomes a gift.” Elenora forces herself to straighten up before she smiles up at the king and continues on.

All eyes are on her as she walks down the path. The street is silent and Elenora cannot decide if it is good or bad. “I was wrong and I am sorry it hurt you Muriel.” The king whispers and for a moment Elenora dares to think things might be different. Maybe he will change. Maybe he might help the rogues except if Elenora allows herself to hope she is also allowing herself to get hurt as soon as he proves her wrong once again.

When they reach the village Elenora forces the conversation out of her head so she can properly enjoy everything. It is not a hard feat to accomplish. Between the beautiful array of colors, the loud music, and the product samples getting shoved in her face, forgetting seems easy.

In fact, Elenora forgets all about it as soon as a kind older lady grabs her hand and pulls her into a fast paced dance on the street corner to ‘celebrate’ though what we’re celebrating had completely flown over her head. Truthfully Elenora could not understand a word the woman had said to her. It was a foreign tongue she spoke in. All Elenora knows is that she is very happy and she is a lot better at dancing than Elenora who stumbles through the dance but laughs all the same. It is not long before they are joined by children who seem to have mastered the dance as they hop and place their feet to match the rhythm almost perfectly. A young man grabs her hand and twirls her around before beginning to whisper the instructions in her ear. “It’s a line dance princess.” The boy tells her as he leads her “Do you know why we are celebrating?”

Elenora eyes the market around her while still trying to keep up. Why are they getting faster? “Because the bread is on sale?” The young man laughs and her eyes find the King, smiling at her and the answer comes to her just as the young man confirms.

“Close. It is because the lost princess has returned.” The boy grins and he hands her a flower before bowing and disappearing into the crowd just as the music slows to an end. It is far from the last flower Elenora receives. The children stick them in her hair. The elders passed them to her and wished her well. It got to the point where Elenora could not carry anything but flowers and she had to start giving them to King Stavros to hold onto. One child who had no flower to give but still wanted to hand her something had given her half a bar of chocolate though Elenora insisted she did not have to. She ended up taking it as the child seemed more hurt at her refusal than her eating the last of his chocolate.

“The people are smitten with you.” King Stavros chuckles

Elenora cannot help but wonder if they would be so smitten if they knew she was a rogue for years. Her hands are covered in the blood of those who suffered, of those she killed because of the fear they might do the same. The guilt gnaws at her and once again the king seems to see right through her. “They know where you come from Muriel.” Elenora faces him for the sake of arguing. No, they don’t. Because if they did they would not treat her so kindly. They would not show her nearly as much love as they are. “They know.” The king repeats, reading her doubt. “Talk spreads wide when it comes to Nakoa Bardrick and his rogue mate who just so happens to be the lost princess. The people here do not care about status, Elenora. They do not care where you come from so much as they care about who you are.”

“How is it that the people think like that but not the king?” Elenora did not mean to let that question slip. She did not mean to ruin the day like that. She had fun. A lot of it. If Charlotte were still here, Elenora would take her everyday because it is just the thing Charlotte would love. She would pull Mia along too.

The king looks away from her and eyes the sky. Elenora waits for him to look down, for him to answer her question and he answers just as Elenora is about to continue walking down the path. “Because the last time I trusted a rogue, that rogue had kidnapped my daughter from the crib and abused her for several years.” With that said he walks away. Elenora does not want to understand him. She does not want to accept what he has done or how he has hated for just one rogue and yet she cannot help it.

Elenora cannot help but understand how that hatred can grow as the years go on. She cannot help but understand that the more helpless you feel, the more you start to let it consume you. Charlotte was gone for a month and Elenora wants to hunt down a whole species and kill them all.

She was gone for twenty-three years -almost twenty-four and the only thing he could do was try and find a way to cope while still taking care of hundreds of thousands of people.

Elenora could not sleep, could barely eat, and she only wanted to find Charlotte. That desperation, that fear had frozen her in time all the while the world still moved around her. It worked around her. A month was what she had endured. Almost twenty-four years is what the king endured. Damn him. She didn’t want to understand. Understanding is so much harder than hating. Hating is easy. Hating keeps her from being hurt. Understanding leaves her conflicted. How could she so easily understand after the years she had suffered because of him? How could she so easily let go? The answer comes to her in the form of a warrior’s voice. If you hate how rogues are treated so much then be the difference. We do not need more people standing around and hating things only to do nothing about those things.

Wasn’t that what the warrior had told her in the tower? Hate doesn’t get anybody anywhere. Vermont’s hatred lost him his wolf, his mate, and his life though he is not truly dead yet.

The king’s own anger had come back to haunt him in the end. There is no mistaking the pain in his eyes when he looks at her. King Stavros had hurt Elenora though it was never intentional and he never even knew it until just recently. Even Nakoa’s hatred. He has his own regrets -his own demons to fight. Perhaps it might be better to take that step back and try to forgive what had happened to her. After all, doesn’t healing come from forgiveness and then a solution from healing?

It does seem a lot easier said than done. Elenora’s instinct while dealing with the king seems to be suspicion and wary. He does make it awfully hard to hate him. Even now he plays hopscotch with a group of children. Elenora watches a dirty little girl step up to him with a nervous smile and a crown in her hand. The king bows low for the girl and she places the crown atop his head with bright red cheeks and much wider grin. She grips her skirt before bowing her head in a curtsey.

It hits Elenora there and then she had been doing things wrong this entire time and nobody had told her a thing. It is men that bow and women curtsey. “Princess Muriel,” The small voice whispers, distracting her from the very embarrassing realization she had just come across. Even children know more manners than her.

When Elenora looks down she sees the same dirty little girl only this time the crown in her hand appears to be for her. “I cannot possibly accept that.” The girl seems crestfallen “Unless you help teach my father and I to make crowns as well.” The girl squeals before grabbing her hand and tugging her to the king. Elenora watches the king’s eyebrows raise as the little girl grabs his hand as well and starts to tug them towards what appears to be a garden. “It’s Uncle Sam’s place. He doesn’t mind.” The little girl plops down on the grass and stares at the both of us.

“We are making crowns, father. Flower crowns-”

“For Queen Vanya and Princess Lydia and-” The little girl leans in with flaming red cheeks and wide eyes “Prince Ardon.” She whispers “Dibs on his!” And just like that Elenora listens to her as she plans out a wedding with Prince Ardon even though she cannot possibly be older than eight years old. Her crush is clear as day and Elenora can hardly wait to tell Ardon about it. King Stavros seemed much amused as he listened to the girls’ strict instructions.

Unfortunately with the lilies and roses his flower crown turned out better. Not that Elenora tells him that.

After saying goodbye to the girl who’s name is Carolyn, they continue their walk down the stone path. Elenora takes the opportunity to ask him something she had been curious about “Is it safe to assume you have warriors shadowing me throughout the day?”

The king only pauses for a moment before looking her dead in the eye and nodding “Yes. It is a safe assumption.”

“Do I have the right to choose my stalkers or am I supposed to keep quiet and get what I get?”

The king laughs and once again he nods “I can gather a couple of them together so you can meet and choose who you want. You are given two warriors who rotate and it is usually ideal they do not already have families as it gets in the way. There are a couple I think you would like.” Elenora nods and wishes she would have gotten the name of the warrior who had given her advice. That is the one she wants. For now she settles on the one she had found.

“I have my choices already though I do not know one of their names. Warrior Dennis?” This seems to come as a surprise as his eyes widen for a very brief moment. Still he nods his agreement. “I don’t suppose we can end this walk with the introduction to a certain swordsmith can we? I would like to meet him if he allows visitors.”

King Stavros sighs “I suppose a visit to my father is long overdue.” With that he adjusts his flower crown and leads the way.