Kastali Dun

Claire blinked at her reflection, and for a few moments, the chaos surrounding her faded away. Gone were her fussing handmaidens, Desaree to oversee them, Madame Rosanne to make the final alterations to her gown. Her gown! It was all she could see, staring into the mirror, eyes blurred with tears. One slipped down her cheek. There came additional gasps and fussing as everyone noticed, but she was numb to it all.

To describe Rosanne's creation was almost a travesty, for it was unlike anything she could have imagined. Even the sketches hadn't come close to capturing the sight of it on her body. It was something seared into her mind, something she would remember for the rest of her life, impossible to forget.

This, like her ballgown, was strapless, putting her bare chest on display. The bodice was styled similar to a corset, but without ties; little buttons spanned the back. It had taken nearly twenty minutes for her ladies to do them up. It pressed her breasts to full attention.

The the gown's fabric was plain black silk, of good quality. It was meant to accentuate the careful beadwork—if one could call them beads. Because, in fact, they were miniature iridescent scales, sewn into the shape of a dragon's head that wrapped around her left side, pointing downward, maw open, breathing flames. Even the dragon's eye was done with careful thought; a silver gem, to match Talon's.

The flames were made of fine gold and orange beads, tongues of fire expelled from its mouth, flowing over her hip and downwards, all the way to the bottom of her heavy skirts. When she moved, the flames danced with her. She loved the way Rosanne had incorporated so much into the piece.

A gown intended to make a bold statement. It told a story about who she was, what she was, and what her bond would mean. Everything had been thought through with care. Golden flames, because women in Dragonwall wore golden gowns for their weddings, not white. Black because of the Drengr she bonded to. A dragon to symbolize that Drengr, breathing fire. Even the flames were symbolic, to signify her uprising, from an outsider to a queen.

The back of the gown was entirely plain, intentionally done, to accentuate her cape. She almost loved the cape more than the gown. It was a nod to her Spriten heritage. It, too, had scales on a portion of it, much larger than those used for the beads, that linked together like plates of armor. It started as a choker, encasing her entire neck, then winged out over her shoulders, curving into upward points. The rest of the cape flowing down her back was translucent black. Over it, swirls of Sprite markings had been embroidered, with the help of her Spriten handmaidens, to mirror her own, in shimmering thread the same color as her own. They were a stark message against the black fabric. And then there were the dragonscale cuffs encasing her wrists, something she'd purposefully requested.

She looked like a vengeful warrior goddess ready for battle.

When she next blinked, Rosanne had disappeared, dismissed to find her way to the ceremony. Only her handmaidens and Queen's Guard remained. They, too, were dressed spectacularly. Her Queen's Guard had donned golden capes over their starlight silver armor, because gold was the color of her escort party. Her handmaidens wore gowns of gold in the Spriten fashion, and Desaree wore one in the more popular fashion of Dragonwall.

"Frelikah javkain lerah ormahi, Ayas Drollaya," Selphie whispered, her eyes round, almost glazed. Too beautiful for words, Your Majesty.

"Shalaya," she managed, almost croaking.

Her hair was already piled into a beautiful mass atop her head, topped with a plain Spriten tiara that Desaree had found within the queen's closet where the other jewels were kept. They'd brushed her cheeks with blush, lined her eyes with kohl. All that was left were her shoes, which she stepped into, before they assembled.

Their little side conversations died down, until silence fell. It was a heavy moment, no longer filled with excited chatter. A moment that would carve its own place into history. They all felt the immensity in their hearts.

She'd stayed up late into the night with her handmaidens, Desaree, Jocelyn, and Saffra, and the rest of her Queen's Guard, including Feowen, within the confines of her portion of the tower. She and Talon had not shared a bed. He'd informed her of the tradition, which aligned with the one she was already familiar with. They'd kept vigil, staying up until nearly dawn, speaking in hushed whispers, sharing stories of love and adventure. It had been worth every minute, but she was eager to lay eyes on her mate, eager to get through this.

At the back of her mind—and everyone else's—was the threat of an oncoming attack. Blood bats, Saffra had explained, after elaborating on what she'd found in the library. It was almost too much to fathom. But she would think on that later. She wouldn't tarnish this experience, these moments.

"I'm ready," she said to them, squaring her shoulders. A messenger had already arrived—the king awaited. She was nearly trembling with nerves, hands clenched at her sides. "You have the stone?" she added, looking at Desaree. Desaree nodded, showing her the cloth bundle caged in her hands.

The stone, one of black seledonix, one one she'd requested from the queen's treasury within the heart of Esterpine. Her handmaidens had given her the idea when they'd surprised her with a tiara made of the same stone. She'd sent a messenger to the forest after arriving in Kastali Dun, knowing that the ceremony would require a stone for Talon's Sverak.

As a procession, they departed the king's tower. She took the lead, walking alone, followed by her lady in waiting and Spriten handmaidens. Her eight Queen's Guard decked out in their regalia formed ranks around them, just a step behind her.

Her feet felt heavy, but eager. Each step brought her closer to a change that was a long time coming. Did you ever think this would be my fate? she couldn't help but ask, deep within her mind.

A draconic chuckle that belonged to Cyrus, met her question. I often wondered, but no. There was never this much certainty to my suspicions. I wish that I could claim credit. In truth, you have carved this path all on your own, through your bravery, determination, and resilience. There was a hesitation and then, I am so proud of the woman you have become, Claire. I saw it then, but even more now.

An ache built in her throat. His words steeled her spine, keeping her upright, keeping her chin proud. I don't think I could have done it without you, she admitted.

You would have done just fine, Your Majesty.

The use of the title sent chills racing down her spine. She felt the confidence of his answer, wanted to argue with him about it, but decided to accept the praise he offered.

Thank you, she managed at last.

All too soon, she found herself descending into the lowest levels of the keep. It had been eerily empty up until now, and she saw why. The entire population of servants had lined the way leading to the throne room. They threw petals beneath her feet as she passed them. There were so many faces she recognized, people she had worked with after first coming here. She couldn't help but offer them small smiles, which they devoured wholeheartedly, grinning and nodding in return. Their expressions were open, eager.

Had Talon known, all those months ago, that forcing her into servitude would win them over? That she would make allies out of every one of them. She wasn't some far off queen, stepping in to rule them. She had been one of them, for a time, and that created a kinship that was more precious than anything.

She saw it in the way they looked at her now. Undying loyalty. It made the hairs on the back of her neck prick to attention.

Some whispered words of encouragement, others, words of fealty.

And then she reached the doors. They were closed. A memory flashed before her vision, of a time that felt so long ago, when she'd faced these doors in travel worn clothing, trembling with dread, steeling her nerves to face a king that hated her. She'd been so frightened. It was Cyrus who'd given her the courage she needed.

She felt his chuckle again, in the back of her mind, and despite his lack of words, she knew what he'd say. That it was never him. That she'd had that courage all along, deep inside of her, and had only needed a reminder of it.

Now she was facing the same king.

"Thevas amah mik nekahlla." Gods give me strength, she managed to utter. Her knees felt like jello. They all but wobbled facing the closed doors.

"Aya kunyn outah barihon, Ayas Drollaya." You are our queen, Your Majesty. It was Feowen's murmur, speaking for all of them. As if to say, "That is your strength." And then, "Verah kunyn leh aya."

We are with you, they all chanted, echoing his words.

"And I am with you," she repeated in the common tongue. To the statuesque guards who waited, she added, "Open the doors. I have a king to mate."

Someone huffed a laugh, but it was quickly swallowed up by the rapping of a spear against wood. The sound was loud and reverberated deep in her bones. The doors swung inwards, punctuating the silence as they glided over the floor. The throne room was revealed to her.

She sucked in a breath.

It had been transformed. Giant pots held massive trees and vines, turning it into a veritable forest. She shot a quick glance at the Spriten prince, who looked far too smug with himself. So, she hadn't been the only one planning surprises around this ceremony. For only a Sprite could grow such a thing in the span of a day. Her Queen's Guard must have been busy indeed, likely helped by Taylynn after she'd arrived last night.

"You did all of this for me? For us?" she whispered.

"We are with you," they echoed again, in the Spriten tongue. She blinked the blur of tears from her eyes, lifting her chin an inch higher.

"Shalaya," she said, softly thanking them.

Taking a deep breath, she strode calmly into the room. People were packed into every available space, dressed in their finest attire. A quick glance brought surprise. They weren't all nobility. There were commoners, some so poor their nicest clothing was threadworn and tattered. Someone had given even the lowest of birth access to witness this moment. Later, she would reflect on that, and realize that Talon had taken her words to heart, that a person's birth and blood wasn't grounds for exclusion. But for now, she hardly noticed them, was too distracted by something else.

Her eyes went directly to the dais, breath hitching. Dressed entirely in black, stood Dragonwall's king. His powerful figure swallowed the space around him. He stood tall, one hand braced on his Sverak, the other hanging calmly at his side. At this distance, his expression was unreadable. She couldn't make out the scars covering his face, but she could see them in her mind's eye, memorized as if they were her own.

For a moment, she couldn't breathe, couldn't think, as everything else faded away. Her vision tunneled. The sight of him swelled her chest, filling it with a heady mix of emotion. She wanted him, longed for him, loved him. She understood him better than anyone else in the world, a privilege so immense, she was drunk on it.

For an instant, just a pinprick of time, she saw their entire lives flash before her eyes. Years upon years together, the adventures they'd have, the children they'd raise, the kingdom they'd rule. It nearly bowled her over. He was everything, and he was hers.

"You look..." Talon's voice set the present back in motion. "Claire...you are so beautiful."

Swallowing, she forced her feet to move, each step easier than the last. Nearly a year ago, she would have done anything to flee in the opposite direction. Now, it was all she could do to keep from running straight for him, from throwing herself into his arms.

As she neared, she finally noticed his Shields, standing beside him for support, and Reyr, several steps up on the dais, to preside over their ceremony. She also noticed the whispers, gasps, words of awe that echoed in her wake, as those present took in her appearance. Her gaze stayed locked on Talon, on his face, until his scars were visible, and his expression readable. He looked at her with parted lips, pinched brows, wide eyes. A look of utter awe. His expression made her knees wobble, but she kept her steps steady.

"Talon..." was all she could croak, as she came to a stop facing him, her eyes searching his.

He wore a simple gold crown atop his head, the band had only a single point in the middle holding a black stone. His hair looked tamer than usual; she couldn't wait to run her fingers through it and mess it up. The stray thought made her skin heat, but the sight of him set her on fire.

They both simply stood, staring at each other, sparks crackling between them. Perhaps time stopped, or perhaps they managed to convey everything they felt for each other in an instant. A loud throat cleared. She finally managed a blink, pulling herself from Talon's spell. He seemed to do the same. His throat bobbed. He glanced towards Reyr.

"Let us begin," Reyr said, lifting his hands to quiet the audience.

Her pulse roared in her ears, filling the ensuing silence. Talon reached forward, taking her hands. Her eyes widened—he was trembling. She looked him over, taking him in, to see that he looked nervous, almost frightened, like he might be sick at any moment. He'd never looked quite like this.

"It's all right," she whispered, for his ears only, giving his hands a gentle squeeze. He managed a tiny nod. His gaze stayed locked on hers, as if looking away for a mere moment would be too much. He held her hands more tightly than usual, as if anchoring himself to her.

Her chest swelled. He was nervous, and it was the sweetest thing. She would be his strength, here and now, if he needed it. She would be whatever he needed, everything he needed, and more.

I never thought I would have you, his gaze seemed to say. I never believed you could be mine.

But I am yours, was the answering look she gave him. Only yours.

His expression softened, some of the nervousness fleeing.

"People of Dragonwall," Reyr said, his voice ringing out over the throne room. "Today, you are witnessing a part of history that will be spoken of for thousands of years to come. The joining of two great races. There has only ever been one such event, and it, too, changed history. Nearly fifty thousand years ago, our first king and queen came together on this very dais, to pledge their lives to one another, to declare their bond, and live as mates. King Eymar and Queen Isabella united to form the monarchy that has seen our kingdom through many times. Times of prosperity, times of war, times of decline, and now...times of change."

Her breaths began to slow. Talon looked calmer, too. They continued to gaze at each other while Reyr spoke.

"Today we are here to witness the bonding ceremony of King Talon and Queen Claire, a ceremony that will unite both the Drengr and Spriten races. A bonding that will bring our kingdom closer together. A year ago, our king believed he would spend the rest of his days alone, mateless. Our queen believed she would only ever live a mundane life, never to know her true heritage and identity. So much can change in a single moment."

Talon squeezed her hands. She swallowed, trying to push back the lump rising in her throat.

"Fate, it seems, had other plans, bringing these two together under painful, but necessary circumstances. While their beginning might have been a little rocky—"

She blew out a breath, partly a nervous laugh. Talon's lips twitched, no doubt remembering exactly how rocky their initial meeting was, what had transpired, and all the times they'd fought and bickered.

"—but in the end, they ended up exactly where they were meant to be. In each other's hearts. Now, all that is left is to declare their love, and speak the words that will bind them together."

Reyr hesitated, and the crowd waited silently, with bated breath. The back of her neck prickled with nerves. She squeezed Talon's hands this time, to reassure herself that they really were standing here, in this moment. That this was happening. That she wouldn't wake up back on earth, in her bedroom, to discover it was all just a dream.

"King Talon will now present his mate with her bow. Let her fly with him so that she may protect him in her own way."

Talon gave her hands a final squeeze, then dropped them, turning to Verath, who handed over a bow she hadn't noticed until now. It was accompanied by a quiver, the arrows of which had black fletching to match his color. But it was the bow she couldn't pull her eyes from. Its recurved limbs were carved and decorated with intricate swirling patterns that reminded her of Spriten weapons, of the bow Pelwyn had given her, inlaid with tiny black gems. Talon handed it to her and she took the cool wood, running her fingers over it, before smiling up at him.

She saw every bit of love he felt for her, echoed in his gaze.

Though she would be queen, this was a symbol of her status as his Rider. An age old tradition that every mated pair engaged in. She would fly with him into battle, and this bow would be her weapon, a way to protect him as they flew.

A throat cleared, reminding her of the words she was meant to speak. She licked her lips and said, "I thank you for such a fine gift and token of your love."

Talon's throat bobbed. He gave a tiny nod and stepped back into place.

"Queen Claire will now present her mate with a pommel stone, so that his Sverak may be complete, so that he may protect her in his own way." She felt a nudge at her back. In her nerves, she'd forgotten to turn. Heat washed her face. She quickly turned to Desaree, who opened the cloth, revealing the beautiful stone within.

She removed it and handed it to Talon. He hadn't seen it until now, but he seemed to know exactly how priceless it was. This wasn't like the common black stones that were often used in his crown or other adornments. This had come from the depths of the Gable Forest. It was rare and priceless. His lips parted for a moment, as his eyes darted between hers and the stone. He recovered and said, "I thank thee for such a fine gift and token of your love."

He removed his Sverak, then handed both the weapon and gem to Reyr, who set the stone into the empty place, muttering a word of magic, "Asamat," to fuse the stone into place. There came a bluish glow of magic, and then it was done. Reyr handed the Sverak back to Talon, who hesitated, looking it over, then looked up at her. It was the same expression of disbelief he often gave, when he was thinking that he couldn't believe he'd found her, that he wouldn't be mateless for the remainder of his life. She offered a gentle smile, a tiny nod. He replaced the Sverak at his side.

"King Talon, Queen Claire, take each other's hands. For it is time to recite the Drengr-Rider words we all know in the depths of our hearts. However, I would like to do something differently this time."

Talon's head whipped towards Reyr, brows drawn.

Reyr's lips twitched. "I would like our audience, and all those witnessing this monumental moment, to speak the words with you. Together, we will unite you in your bond."

For some reason, Claire's eyes caught on Taylynn's, who stood off to the side. It was then she noticed Taylynn's look of surprise, and even intrigue, as she watched Reyr make this pronouncement. She looked back at Talon. His expression seemed to ask, Are you ready?

She nodded, then opened her mouth to speak. He joined her, and after a single word, so too did the voices of hundreds, wrapping around them, surrounding them, and somehow deepening the magic that flowed through the throne room that day.

Rejoice!

A bond is discovered—

A lifetime destined by fate.

A commitment unbreakable,

Until Daudagher takes us.

A tender comfort to ease the hardship,

The other's labor has brought.

A love that takes root,

Encouraged by caring hands and gentle kisses.

A promise is made;

A promise is sealed.

A single mind from two combined:

A Drengr and his Rider.

She felt the shiver that raced through her, and felt Talon's all the way through his hands. Their eyes widened on each other's. Then they both smiled, sighing their relief.

"And so it is said, so it shall be," Reyr shouted, lifting his voice. Throughout the throne room, other voices echoed the same thing, before turning into cheers and stomping feet. She blinked, then blinked again. A happy laugh burst from her chest. She was just about to turn towards their onlookers when Talon growled, "Isn't your custom to seal it with a kiss?" And before she could stop him, he pulled her into his arms and claimed her mouth with his. Her entire body homed in on the place their lips met, blood surging. The cries of the crowed grew frenzied, hooting and cat calling. When Talon pulled away, she could hardly breathe. His face was lit from within, all but glowing.

"Now," he said, keeping a hand braced against her back, "let's enjoy our celebration."

She could only look at him as he swept her away from the dais and down the central aisle, past the cheering crowed, and out the throne room doors. 

⭐🌟 DON'T FORGET TO VOTE!!🌟⭐

Happy Friday Bookdragons! 

Oh, and happy bonding ceremony day! Cheers to the happy couple. I admit, this chapter didn't hit me hard last week when I wrote it. But, when I read through it this morning for final edits, it brought tears to my eyes. I can't believe Claire and Talon are finally bonding, after all this time. Some of you, who have been with me since 2015, have been waiting for nearly eight years! 

Next week will be from Talon's POV. I've already gotten a jump start on the chapter. I recommend you enjoy their happy moments while they last. Dun...dun...dun.....

That's not ominous at all.

Have a great weekend and I'll see you next week!

-Mel