Chapter 32- Fallen and Found

Diplomatic Dance of Doom

Liam’s POV

The clang of metal against crystal jolted me awake, sending a shock through my system that was decidedly unpleasant. I blinked, trying to clear the fog of sleep from my mind, only to be greeted by the sight of my mother standing outside my cell. Fantastic. Just the wake-up call every prodigal son dreams of.

She was as breathtakingly beautiful as ever, her ageless face betraying only the slightest hint of her true years. Nearly 60 eons old, but still as radiant as the day she’d first graced the Seelie Court. Her silver hair was pulled back in an intricate braid, and her eyes – the same emerald green as mine – sparked with a mix of disappointment and… was that concern?

“Mother,” I said, trying for a roguish grin. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this early morning visit? Come to admire the court’s latest crystal decor?”

Her lips thinned, and I felt my bravado wither. Even after centuries, she still had the ability to make me feel like a naughty child, like a toddler caught finger-painting on the walls. At least Rosebud wasn’t here to witness my humiliation this time.

With a wave of her hand, my mother cast a silencing spell around us. The ambient sounds of the dungeon faded away, leaving us in a bubble of privacy. Oh joy. A private scolding. How thoughtful of her.

“Is it true?” she asked, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. “Did you really encounter a saintess and, in your infinite stupidity, bind her to the realm of the Iele?”

I winced. No point in denying it. “Guilty as charged,” I admitted. “Though in my defense, it was an accident.”

She let out a long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Liam. What am I going to do with you?”

“Let me go with a stern warning and a promise to never do it again?” I suggested, hope coloring my tone.

Her glare could have frozen hellfire. Right. Humor. Not the best approach.

“Why the Temporal Tether?” she asked, ignoring my attempt at levity. “You know as well as I do that it won’t completely halt the transformation.”

I ran a hand through my hair, the weight of my actions settling on my shoulders like a lead cloak. “The ritual… it wasn’t entirely my doing,” I explained, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. “Her saintly magic, it… influenced things. I think… And now…” I trailed off, the image of Kate’s confused, hurt face flashing in my mind. “I promised her, Mother. I promised I’d find a way to give her more time. A few years, maybe decades, to spend with her family before she fully becomes an Iele.”

My mother’s expression softened, just a fraction. “Well,” she said, her tone marginally less frosty, “it seems you might have grown up a little after all. At least you’re not thinking solely of your own wants and needs for once.”

I tried not to let the backhanded compliment sting. Progress is progress, right?

She continued, her voice taking on a more serious tone. “We’ve confirmed that your arrival was indeed caused by Iele magic. There’s no trace of your own power in the breach of our barriers.” Her eyes met mine, worry evident in their depths. “This is a grave matter, Liam. The Iele have been our allies for millennia. This… interference… it could spark a conflict we never imagined possible.”

My stomach dropped. “Surely they wouldn’t–“

“The council is divided,” she cut me off. “We had an emergency session this morning. No one can agree on how to proceed. We’re hoping for an explanation from the Iele, but you know how fickle they can be.”

I nodded, a chill running down my spine. The political ramifications of my little “accident” were starting to look more and more dire.

“Some council members,” my mother continued, her voice lowering, “are calling for your execution. Breaking banishment is no small offense, Liam.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. “Execution?” I croaked, my usual wit deserting me. “Isn’t that a bit… extreme?”

“I’ve managed to stall any decision for now,” she said, and I could have sworn I saw a flicker of maternal protectiveness in her eyes. “At least until we hear from the Iele.”

Silence fell between us, heavy with unspoken words and centuries of complicated history. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, I asked the question that had been gnawing at me since my encounter with my father.

“How’s Rosebud?” The words came out softer than I intended, laden with guilt. “I… I didn’t know. About her scar, I mean. That she was hurt so badly that day.” I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet my mother’s gaze. “I’m sorry. Truly. If I could take it all back–“

“But you can’t,” she interrupted, though her tone had lost some of its edge. “What’s done is done. She was lucky, all things considered. She survived, and unlike some others, she wasn’t infected with demon venom.”

A thought struck me, wild and desperate. “Mother,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, “do you think… could saintly magic heal them? The ones who were hurt?”

She hesitated, uncertainty flickering across her face. “I… I’m not sure. Saints and Fae, we’ve never exactly been on the best of terms. I can’t recall a single instance of a Saint healing one of our kind.”

“Kate healed me,” I said, the memory of her touch sending a shiver through me. It had been like liquid sunshine flowing through my veins, warm and vibrant and impossibly pure. For a moment, I’d felt more alive than I had in centuries.

“I won’t force her,” I added quickly, seeing the look on my mother’s face. “I’ve ruined her life enough as it is. But… if I can get the Tether, if I can bring her here somehow… maybe she’d be willing to try. For Rosebud, at least.”

My mother opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, the sound of running footsteps broke through her silencing spell. A guard skidded to a halt outside my cell, his face flushed with excitement or fear – it was hard to tell which.

“My Lady,” he panted, “Iele representatives have arrived. An emergency court session has been called.”

My mother’s eyes widened, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of fear in them. She composed herself quickly, every inch the regal Fae noblewoman once more. “Very well,” she said, her voice steady. “Bring him.”

As the guard fumbled with the cell door, my mother fixed me with a look that was part warning, part plea. “Behave yourself, Liam,” she said softly. “For once in your life, please.”

I nodded, my usual quips dying on my tongue. As the cold metal of the shackles closed around my wrists, I couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was about to happen in that courtroom would change everything. For better or worse remained to be seen.

With a deep breath, I stepped out of my cell, ready to face whatever fate – and the Iele – had in store for me. After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

Don’t answer that, universe. Please.

The journey to the grand hall was like a parade of shame, each step a reminder of my mistakes. The corridors were lined with a mix of curious young Fae, eager to catch a glimpse of the infamous Liam and his spectacular fuck-up, and older Fae whose faces were twisted with anger and pain. These were the ones who had suffered due to my Woodstock fiasco, and their hatred was palpable.

I felt myself mentally shrinking, the urge to run almost overwhelming. I’d known people would be mad, but this… this was beyond even my wildest expectations. The consequences of my actions were gathered here like a living, breathing testament to my failure. It was all I could do not to curl into a ball and disappear.

As we entered the grand hall, my mother took her seat among the council members. I was led to the center of the room, painfully aware of all the eyes boring into me. The Fae King and Queen sat on their crystal thrones, their faces impassive but their eyes sharp with judgment.

My gaze darted around the room, landing on my father and Rosebud in the crowd. My sister’s single good eye was wide with a mix of fear and concern. Then I spotted them – the Iele leader and her two companions, their expressions unreadable. My heart leapt to my throat, searching for a familiar face among them, but Kate was nowhere to be seen. Relief and disappointment warred within me as I tried to decipher what her absence might mean.

The King’s voice boomed through the hall, officially opening the hearing. One of the council members – ah yes, good old Thorian, who’d always had it out for me – stood up, his face twisted with barely concealed glee.

“Liam of the House of Eldrin,” he began, his voice dripping with disdain, “stands accused of breaching his banishment, returning to the Seelie Court despite being forbidden to do so for another 27 eons.”

Before he could continue, my mother’s voice cut through the air like a whip. “As we have already established in this morning’s council gathering, Liam did not come here of his own volition. He was brought here by Iele magic.”

The Queen raised a hand, silencing them both. “Which is precisely why we are gathered here now,” she said, her voice cool and measured. “To get answers on why the Iele saw fit to deposit Liam at our doorstep.”

I couldn’t help but smirk as I watched the Iele. They stood there, completely unbothered by the pomp and circumstance of the Seelie Court. It was a stark reminder of just how formidable they truly were. Sure, we Fae liked to think of ourselves as the top dogs in the magical food chain, but the Iele? They were the apex predators pretending to be housecats.

Our alliance with them had always been one of mutual disinterest rather than actual friendship. They didn’t care to expand their territories, and they knew – they knew – that they had nothing to fear from us. Even their small numbers could probably wipe out a whole Fae army if they chose to without even breaking a sweat. They had spells in their arsenal that would make even the most battle-hardened Fae warrior wet themselves in terror.

The Iele leader finally deigned to acknowledge the Queen’s words, her voice like silk over steel. But when she spoke, it wasn’t in the common tongue of the Fae court. No, she addressed the assemblage in the lilting, musical language of the Iele, a blatant display of superiority. They all knew she could speak the common language if she chose to, but this was a power play, pure and simple.

“We did indeed bring Liam here,” she said, as casual as if discussing the weather. “He had… overstayed his welcome, shall we say. But more importantly, he has a promise to fulfill to one of our own.”

As she continued to speak in her native tongue, I could see the frustration and indignation building on the faces of the council members. Some of the older Fae could understand her, their expressions darkening with each word, while others were left in confused silence. It was a masterful move, sowing discord and asserting dominance in one fell swoop.

The word ‘promise’ sent a ripple through the assembled Fae, transcending the language barrier. Even I felt a chill run down my spine. Promises were serious business for all Faery-folk, but for the Iele? They were practically sacred.

One of the council members, a portly Fae with a beard that looked like it was trying to escape his face, leaned forward. “What promise could be so important that you would risk our alliance over it?”

The Iele’s smile was sharp enough to cut. “Liam needs to acquire the Temporal Tether,” she said, her eyes flicking to me for a moment. “To slow the transformation of a human to Iele after he… how shall we put it? Stupidly performed the binding ritual without even knowing what he was doing.”

I noticed immediately that they didn’t mention Kate’s sainthood, just referring to her as human. A quick glance at my mother confirmed she’d caught it too. I silently prayed she’d keep that particular detail to herself for now. The last thing we needed was to throw another fireball into this powder keg of a situation.

As the council erupted into shocked murmurs, I couldn’t help but wonder: what game were the Iele playing? And more importantly, where did that leave Kate… and me?

The Iele’s words hung in the air for a moment, their impact amplified by the audacity of her linguistic choice. Then, like a dam breaking, the grand hall erupted into chaos.

Council members leapt to their feet, their voices rising in a cacophony of outrage and disbelief. Some shouted questions in the common tongue, while others, more versed in the Iele language, hurled accusations and demands for clarification.

“A binding ritual? Impossible!” “How dare they interfere with our justice!” “What human could be worth risking our alliance?”

The King’s face had turned an impressive shade of purple, his knuckles white as he gripped the arms of his throne. The Queen, usually a picture of serenity, now wore an expression that could have curdled milk.

“Silence!” the King roared, his voice cutting through the din like a thunderclap.

The room fell quiet, but the tension remained, thick enough to choke on. The King fixed the Iele leader with a glare that would have sent most beings cowering. She merely raised an eyebrow, looking almost amused.

“You overstep, Iele,” the Queen said, her voice arctic. “You cannot simply drop a banished Fae into our realm and make demands. There are protocols, agreements-“

“Agreements,” the Iele leader interrupted, switching to the common tongue with a smirk, “that pale in comparison to the sanctity of a promise made to one of our own.”

I could practically see the gears turning in the heads of the court members. This was a diplomatic nightmare of epic proportions. On one hand, letting me go would be seen as a sign of weakness, a capitulation to the Iele’s demands. On the other, preventing me from fulfilling my promise could spark a conflict with beings that even the Fae feared to cross.

My mother stood, her face a mask of careful neutrality. “Perhaps,” she said, her voice steady, “we should discuss this matter further before making any hasty decisions. The implications of this… situation… are far-reaching.”

The King nodded slowly, his jaw clenched. “Indeed. We will recess to consider this new information. But make no mistake,” he added, his eyes boring into mine, “this is far from over, Liam of Eldrin.”

As the court began to disperse, murmuring in tense, hushed tones, I couldn’t help but feel like a pawn in a game of celestial chess. The Iele had played their hand masterfully, but the Fae were far from checkmated.

And somewhere in the middle of it all was Kate, blissfully unaware of the political storm she’d inadvertently caused. Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a stiff drink and a time machine right about now.