Alwyn

Alwyn stepped onto the balcony and into the early morning dawn. Fog coated the palace grounds making it appear as if she were still at sea. A canopy of clouds set the stage for a somber day. Sleep had eluded Alwyn, her thoughts rolling like the tide, never settling.

The fog broke and Alwyn spotted a lone figure at the training grounds, sword swishing through invisible ghostly adversaries. She hesitated for a moment before reentering the palace and finding her way through the hallways. Mist dampened her hair as she approached Lydia. Even as she stopped, Alwyn wasn't sure what she'd say or even why she'd felt the need to come.

"Is Zavier training you?" Alwyn asked.

Lydia spun around, startled. Alwyn retreated a step in case her presence wasn't wanted. Letting out a breath, Lydia swiped at her brow.

"Yes, he is," she said. The caution in her tone told Alwyn that she was worried Alwyn wouldn't like this fact.

"Though Zavier knows how to handle a sword," Alwyn said. "He is also a man, they can fight with the strength of their upper body. For us, it's not the same."

"Oh?"

Lydia perked up and Alwyn felt safe coming closer.

"For us, our whole bodies need to be our weapon, our support. Our strength comes from our arms, torso, and legs. May I?"

Lydia handed over her sword and Alwyn noted that it was smaller than an average weapon. It felt lighter and more proportioned to a woman's hold. Alwyn looked from the artfully designed handle to Lydia.

"Did Zavier have this made for you?" she asked.

When Lydia nodded, there was again a hint of hesitation. Alwyn couldn't fault her, when they'd first been on the ship Alwyn had been angry at Zavier and Lydia, mistaking her for Vienna. Now Lydia and Zavier were betrothed, it made sense Lydia would be wary. At that moment, Alwyn wanted to kick her old self for being cruel. There was nothing to do now but make amends.

"Watch how I go through the positions," Alwyn said.

Alwyn moved with exaggerated slowness, allowing Lydia time to observe each step and how every thrust engaged every part of her body. Brow pinched together in concentration, Lydia studied Alwyn's form. Alwyn stopped and held the sword out to Lydia.

"Now you try," she said.

Lydia mimicked Alwyn's flow but without the gracefulness that came with years of practice. Still, Alwyn had to admit she was more capable than she'd expect from a Princess. As Lydia continued, Alwyn corrected her mistakes lightly, hoping she didn't sound too harsh.

"Have you been coming out here early for a while?" Alwyn asked as Lydia grew more comfortable.

"No, I had a nightmare I couldn't banish," Lydia said. "And I didn't have..."

She stopped and faced Alwyn. Though she looked uncertain, she stood straight as if trying to find courage.

"I must be honest with you, Alwyn," she said. "Yesterday, Zavier and I...we signed the arrangement alliance. In the eyes of both Kingdoms we are...our Kingdoms are joined."

That was why Zavier had given her the plant because there was no turning back. Last night had sealed what Alwyn already knew, the future with Zavier she'd planned, hoped for was no longer there. Still, hearing the finality of it hit Alwyn differently.

She sat down on the grass, staring at the thinning fog. What did she feel? Anger? Hurt? Resignation? Nothing? But she did feel something, she simply couldn't put a name on it. What did one feel when a conclusion they already saw coming, came?

When Alwyn didn't respond, Lydia took tentative steps towards her. Still, Alwyn didn't move and so Lydia claimed a spot beside Alwyn. They remained sitting there, watching as the fog shifted around them.

"He had the chance to refuse," Lydia said. "I thought...I thought maybe he might because of..."

"Of me?" Alwyn said, turning her head. "If he had he wouldn't be the man I fell in love with." She let out a sigh. "To refuse would mean leaving you alone to fight for your Kingdom. He would never do that. He's honorable. A trait I admire and at one point hated."

Lydia laid her sword over her crossed legs and ran her thumb over the leather of the handle.

"Do you think I'll have times of hating it?" she asked.

Alwyn let out a breathy laugh. "No, he has other traits you will find irritating."

"Such as...?"

For a moment, Alwyn didn't want to answer. What she knew of Zavier had been learned over the years through friendship then more. Sharing felt like somehow giving him away. She mentally shook herself, but what did it matter when he was no longer hers?

"He snores," she said.

Lydia chuckled. "Oh?"

"Yes, having the misfortune to share a crew's quarters with him was enough to know that he snores as loud as the other sailors."

"Snoring," Lydia murmured.

"He is competitive, which I blame on his brothers. He can be stubborn at times. He can overthink things."

Even as she spoke of Zavier's traits that annoyed her, Alwyn smiled, each of them connected to a memory. Years of knowing each other had created so many and each of them felt precious to her. She knew they always would. Not together didn't mean forever apart.

"You will have to watch out for this one, but he gets restless easily," Alwyn said.

"Something we have in common," Lydia said.

Alwyn grinned. "I worry for the Kingdom then when you both decide to run off."

Instead of joining in, Lydia sobered, dropping her head as she traced the side of the blade. Alwyn felt a twinge of sympathy. What Queen could run off?

"He will make a good husband," Alwyn said. "Even if he snores."

The statement brought Lydia out of her darkened thoughts.

"Thank you, Alwyn."

"For sharing Zavier's bad habits, therefore turning you against him before he could do it himself?" she jested.

"No, for not fighting this, for not trying to pull him away." Lydia gripped her sword handle. "Without this alliance, my family's Kingdom would be lost. Without Zavier, I would be helpless to do anything. I know that he cares for you deeply and I thought he might change his mind."

"Honorable, remember? He would not go back on his word."

Alwyn didn't want to think of Zavier's feelings and whether she'd had the power to change anything. It felt daunting to think because of her own want, she could've indirectly caused a Kingdom to fall.

But no, she knew Zavier. Before a Kingdom had depended on the marriage alliance, he'd agreed to marry Vienna. For whatever reason, he'd chosen to hold to the duties his title laid claim on. He wouldn't have run from a situation that he could help fix. She loved him for that.

Lydia picked up her sword's sheath and slid the blade inside. The action seemed to bring their talk to a close.

"You should train while wearing your scabbard," Alwyn said. "It will help for when you do fight with it."

Lydia rose. "Thank you, I will. And thank you for helping me." After storing away her sword, she motioned to the palace. "I should return, I don't want Wilder to worry."

The pair headed towards the palace, the fog melting away, leaving the air clear. Overhead breaks in the clouds sent faint streams of sunlight down on them. As they walked, Alwyn turned over a thought in her mind, one focused on Wilder. Before they climbed the stone steps, she stopped.

She knew Wilder needed a friend, someone to comfort him. No one should be alone with such a heavy burden. Who better to offer that comfort than someone he cared about?

"Lydia," she said, stalling the Princess. "I think you should know...Wilder's father is alive."

Lydia gasped, covering her mouth. "Commander Ror is alive? But Wilder didn't say anything. He didn't tell me."

As Lydia said that, Alwyn hoped she hadn't made a mistake in sharing with the Princess.

"Why isn't he here?" Lydia said.

"He is being held," Alwyn said, not wanting to describe the condition the Commander was in or where he was being held.

Lydia hurried up the steps and into the palace, Alwyn close behind. Concern came off Lydia in waves and Alwyn hoped she'd done the right thing. When they entered the foyer, Wilder and Zavier were descending the stairs.

"Wilder, your father," she said, rushing towards him.

Wilder threw a look at Alwyn before he focused on Lydia. She reached out to him, but he caught her shoulders, keeping her at bay.

"Alwyn told me and-"

"Ly," Wilder said, cutting her off. "Stop, it's all right."

"But your father, he's-"

"I'm serious, Ly do not dwell on it. You don't need to think about me. Do I look worried?"

Lydia relaxed. Wilder appeared completely calm, not a trace of grief or concern. It contradicted what Alwyn had seen in the tunnels.

"You have enough to think about, you don't need to think of this. Worry about taking care of yourself."

Lydia nodded and Wilder managed a small smile. With a glance at Zavier, Zavier stepped forward, the two men seeming to have silently communicated. Zavier held out his arm to Lydia.

"You look like you could use something to eat, Princess," he said.

Lydia stared at Wilder a beat longer and still he showed nothing but calm. Seeming to be encouraged by this, Lydia accepted Zavier's arm and the two walked off.

When they were out of sight, Wilder closed his eyes and the mask of control cracked. He looked haggard, haggard in a way that no one as young as him should.

"Wilder," Alwyn said, inching towards him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told her."

Wilder dragged his hand down his face. There was so much weariness in the gesture that Alwyn felt pained for him.

"She doesn't need to worry about him," he said. "Already she is facing enough, she shouldn't think about what they are doing to him. Wondering whether one blow will be the last one he can handle. Struggling with knowing there is no way to move faster but knowing that time is running out. Hating every minute that isn't spent working to getting back to him. Fearing that she might lose him for the third time. She shouldn't..."

So much pain and dread laced his words. Alwyn did something she feared would be marked as one of her dumbest decisions, she hugged Wilder.

Wilder tensed underneath her touch and Alwyn started to pull away.

But before she could let go, Wilder held her to him. He buried his face in her shoulder, his powerful arms clinging desperately to her in a way she hadn't thought someone so strong could.

"It's going to be okay," Alwyn murmured to him. "We will save your father. I promise it will be okay. You are not alone."

Alwyn knew her words weren't written in stone but she knew Wilder needed to hear them. Second by second, he relaxed against her as he accepted her comfort.

Everyone needed to be comforted now and then, reminded that someone cared for them. Alwyn hadn't thought she'd be that for Wilder. But with how tightly he held her, she was glad she hadn't rethought her rash choice.

Eventually, Wilder loosened his arms and Alwyn retreated from his hold. He stared down at the marble floor as if embarrassed by his show of weakness. Alwyn noted the shadows under his eyes, the stubble on his chin.

"Did you sleep at all?" she asked.

"Not much," he said. "Instead, I planned out how we are going to reclaim the West Isles."

Despite the positive nature of the statement, Wilder didn't seem optimistic.

"That's good news," Alwyn said.

"Yes, the problem lies with not being able to do it all myself. I must trust others, people I have known only for a matter of days."

Alwyn touched his arm, bringing his gaze to her.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

His stare was intense in a way Alwyn hadn't noticed before, as if when he looked at her, he saw everything there was to see. The good and the bad and he accepted it all.

"Yes," he said softly. "I trust you."

"Then trust these people because I trust them. You are not alone in this and they will prove that to you."

Wilder let out a slow breath. "All right. Because you trust them."

*****

Alwyn sat back in her chair unable to stop herself from admiring Wilder. Standing at the head of the table in the war room, the hurting young man from before was nowhere to be seen. He was a man in control, composed, his posture commanding. To someone who struggled to control her emotions, she knew the strength it took to hide them. Wilder did it flawlessly.

"Thank you for being part of this meeting," Wilder said.

The room was filled with the Royal family, Alwyn's family, Lydia and her uncle, as well as Sparrow.

"The path before us is a difficult one," Wilder said. "And one that will take all our efforts." He paused and Alwyn could see him again finding the courage to trust everyone. "The plan I've devised will need speed and coordination. The main challenges we face are getting soldiers into the West Isles, getting into the palace, and protecting the people in the city."

Everyone nodded. Wilder spoke with ease and authority, banishing the overwhelmed feeling that had hung in the air in the previous day's meeting. Somehow his cool assurance infused the room with hope.

"Our tasks are going to be broken into three groups," Wilder said.

He motioned to Nolan who, with the help of Quinn, covered the table with a detailed map of all the kingdoms. A collection of miniature ships were placed before Wilder.

"One of the main things we've discovered about King Titus is that he has maintained the charade that Prince Corwin is still alive, though recovering. This means King Titus doesn't want it known he's in control of the West Isles. The way he'd managed to subtly take over is under the guise of the North Isles offering aide. We are going to use that to our advantage."

Wilder took three of the ships and placed them at the Lorian ports.

"Three Lorian ships filled with soldiers will sail to the West Isles under the guise of ambassadors offering aid," Wilder continued. "If King Titus is to maintain his illusion that he is there to offer help, then he will not be able to turn aside a nation wanting to offer the same. The soldiers on those ships will help secure the city."

Simple, yet brilliant in its creation. Alwyn understood how Wilder's father wanted him to be Commander, he was born for the position.

"The next group," Wilder said. "Will be sailing with Prince Kristoff." He paused for a fraction then placed a single ship at the West Isles port. "Lydia and I will travel with him. With a small contingent of guards, we will face the King."

Wilder held himself together well, but Alwyn could see the tension in his shoulders and the way he curled his fist. It was not ideal, far from it, but it was the best plan.

"The final group will travel through the Whispering Forest. At the palace ruins, the group will divide, one person needs to ring the bell and warn the people to find safety. The rest of the group will use the escape tunnel to bring more soldiers inside to help fight."

Wilder set the final ship at the lagoon they'd sailed to. He stared at the divided collection of miniatures before raising his head and gazing around the room. He looked older, war-weary before the war had begun.

"This is not going to be easy, every soldier will be outnumbered."

Across from her, Alwyn noticed Lydia. She looked pained, her face pale, her fingers knotted together. Alwyn could imagine her thoughts, how many would die to right one King's wrong? Beside her, Zavier slowly reached out his hand, untangling her fingers so he could lace his with hers. Though Lydia didn't even glance at him, Alwyn saw as the tension eased from her body and she let out a quiet breath.

A weird spark of pride filled Alwyn. She'd always known Zavier was a man worth loving. But this one action seemed to reaffirm it. Instead of resisting his future, he walked willingly into it.

"Timing and speed are of the essence," Wilder said, drawing Alwyn's attention back to him. "I need...help with that part of the plan."

"I can help you there," Isla said, calmly. "We use the Currents. Each member of my family knows them. Raif and Cyrus will guide the Lorian ships." A flicker of a smile flashed across her lips. "Raif knows how to handle himself, he can play the part of Lorian ambassador. I will travel with you and Princess Lydia. Alwyn can travel with the final group to the lagoon, she knows where it's located." She leaned forward on the table. "Knowing that and calculating how long each journey will take, we can predict when each arrival time will align."

From there the room broke down into discussions over details for each group, what part who would play, which ship they would be sailing on, and revisions for parts that didn't seem to work. Hope, even the small flame of it, grew as each piece was solidified.

By the time the meeting drew to a close, everything was settled. Dinner was agreed upon, a final meal with everyone before the first group departed on the following evening.

As everyone filed out of the room talking, Wilder approached Alwyn. His manner was intent and she wondered if he worried she wouldn't be up for her task. When he spoke, she'd been correct in reading his thoughts.

"Will you be able to handle your part?" he asked.

"I spent enough time in the West Isles, I know my way around."

Alwyn thought of the bell tower and slipping through the city streets with Wilder. Thought of time at the docks, the prison, the taverns. She knew where to go and what to do.

"You can rely on me," she said.

Wilder held her gaze, his manner shifting to something deeper. "I know I can."

**********************************************************************

"I can see what's happening!"

(If you finish these lyrics I will LITERALLY reach through the screen and hug)

Now, I can see what's happening, but can you? Thoughts! Ponderings! Musings! Puzzlings! Pensive...nessessssss! Yeah, I lost that one. Anyways tell me your thoughts. 🧜🏽‍♀️⚔️🛡

Who saw the hug coming:

Me!

Not me!

Took me so much by surprise I fell off my bed, dropped my phone on my face, spit out my ice cream!

All three! Man what a whirl wind life you lead!

Since I am the writer and know what's going to happen 32% of the time, I thought I'd bring in some who has been through this before.

Isla, Raif, it's great to have you with us. How do you feel this is going so far?

*Silence*

I think it's great, everyone knows how a single journey on a ship can change things. *nudges Isla*

*Isla fights a smile*

Well that is almost so adorable its sickening. Thank you for your input Raif. Isla, from your glare I can tell you're about to leave me- oh! And there she goes. Well, this has been fun, we should do this more often.

Not likely.

Fair enough.

You heard it from the experts! Something is happening...Okay, they didn't share much but it's the thought that counts. What that thought is I don't know anymore but I'm sure it counts for something. I know my thoughts count for at least half of my current state of insanity, so there's proof, thoughts count. #ThoughtsAreImportantToo

Also hold onto your hats, tighten your lifelines, cling to a castle guard because we are ending into the end of the book and you know what that means.... CLIFF HANGERS!!!

I know, you're so excited I can hear your screams from all the way here where I'm hiding in your closet. Because I have to know your thoughts somehow!

And on that disturbing note, don't vote, don't comment, don't follow cause clearly I wasn't lying about being insane!

GOOD NIGHT LONDON!

Also I've decided to cast Austin Armstrong as Zavier

With shorter hair of course.