Spoiler Fanfiction
Notes:
• Yay! Some Arthundelle and a bit of fluff. Both Artham and any readers are going to need that… things are going to start picking up soon.
• There’s a song that I think goes really well with the Arthundelle scene and just them in general. Willow, by Arcadian Wild. (In case you haven’t noticed, yes I love Arcadian Wild) I thought it would be something like the song the musicians are playing in this chapter, but faster and more upbeat. It also just really fits their relationship well. ALSO I didn’t realize until I was writing this chapter that it is literally about the willow tree, from Rhu & my story collaboration. HOW IS THAT SONG JUST SO PERFECT!?
• Previous Chapter
Chapter 35-On the Edge
Artham couldn’t remember ever being so purely, simply happy as he moved with the rhythmic, dancing crowd, his eyes locked on Arundelle’s laughing face as she whirled with the dancers.
Even though he hadn’t realized it until that moment, talking with Arundelle like he had for the last half hour had lifted a huge weight from his shoulders. To share all of his fears and expectations and thoughts with one of the people he trusted most in the world had come as nothing but a relief to him. Her presence was always so full of a quiet, simple gladness that before he knew it she had somehow dissolved his fear and the constant worry that had overshadowed him and replaced it with her bright spark of joy.
He didn’t know how long it was going to last, but with the rhythm of the music beating in his heart and the sound of it whirling around him, made more beautiful by the wondrous girl he danced with, his heart soared.
The last time he had danced had been at his brother’s coronation, during the following days of celebration. And even though it had been a glad time, he had been overwhelmed by an enormous sense of responsibility. He did manage to overthink things quite frequently, and the knowledge that he was now not only protector to his brother, but to every single person he saw at that celebration, had managed to take quite a bit of enjoyment from that day, even though Esben had had the time of his life.
He almost laughed now, realizing that these were far worse circumstances than those had been, and somehow he was still managing to enjoy it to the fullest. Perhaps it was even because of the situation that this moment of gladness seemed so amazing and precious.
The sudden, unexpected peace and joy were a welcome bright spot in the uncertain darkness he had been making his way through. For the first time in months his thoughts weren’t consumed with his brother’s safety and anger at the Wanderers and at the Bunges and at himself for somehow not being able to fix things and desperately praying that everything would be alright. Of course it also helped that he had made sure he knew where Esben was before the musicians had begun playing.
Now though, he was completely caught up in the dance and with Arundelle, entirely unaware that his brother was dancing as well and struggling with something no one else knew about.
The dance was almost more like a fast-paced game, with each person knowing where they had to step next to touch hands with their own partner or someone else’s. Artham hadn’t danced like this in years, and he was grinning and his heart was beating faster in a desperate attempt to remember what steps and what direction came next but something inside him seemed to remember, and soon his feet hit the ground in time to everyone else’s, adding to the quickening beat. The entire dance became an excited, warm, colorful blur, as if the whole world had gone out of focus, punctuated by rhythmic claps and the dancers shouting in unison. Arundelle’s face was flushed and she was laughing, her eyes sparkling as she constantly sought him out among the dancers, her happiness expressed in every graceful movement of her body.
Whenever her hands brushed against his the gladness inside him rose and it continued throughout the dance until the final note when everyone finished with who they had started and suddenly she was holding his hands and close to him and in his arms and for a beautiful, fleeting moment, everything in him rose to a joyful crescendo and it seemed like everything in the world ceased to exist except for him and the girl in his arms.
*
The dance came to a stop far too soon for Artham in a sudden burst of glad shouts and clapping. Both he and Arundelle were panting slightly, and they stood together for just one more second, her gentle hands on his arms and his around her waist.
Her eyes still sparkled, made to look brighter by her flushed cheeks, and she laughed, seemingly just for the pleasure of it. Her laughter was contagious and Artham laughed too, just to see the smile on her face. Then she stepped away, one hand lingering on his while she caught her breath.
“I have to go, I’m playing the next song with my father,” she said, then paused. “Thank you for the dance, Artham. It was wonderful,” she finished with a deep curtsy.
“Oh the pleasure was all mine, Lady Arundelle. Thank you,” Artham murmured, never taking his gaze from her face, bowing and kissing her hand before she turned and made her way through the crowd, and then he watched her for a moment, holding on to the feeling of joy she never failed to stir inside him.
He then looked around quickly, realizing that another dance was probably about to start. He enjoyed dancing, but only with Arundelle. He was always courteous to the other girls, but their conversations frequently became very uncomfortable, very fast. He knew why, in fact, once several years ago a girl had actually fainted because he talked to her. He cringed at the memory, again desperately wishing he could erase it from his mind because it had certainly been the most awfully embarrassing moment in his life, made worse by the fact that he had been with Arundelle.
Thank the Maker Esben hadn’t been there, and Arundelle had promised not to tell him, and she rarely ever mentioned it.
So, though he would never, ever have called it hiding, he managed to conveniently slip away from the crowd and toward the booths of food before any young maiden saw him and somehow created a situation in which he was obligated through common courtesy to ask her to dance.
He found a good place to sit and watch the crowds on one of the huge roots of the Tree, that was conveniently near the fire and half hidden all at once. But of course if anyone saw him there they wouldn’t think he was hiding.
He stared thoughtfully into the fire until he heard someone behind him. He turned around quickly, smiling and standing up when he saw who was behind him.
“Malik!” He exclaimed, clasping hands with the smiling young man who had come seeking him out.
“Good to see you, Artham,” Malik answered in his calm, steady voice. “It’s been a while.”
“Our last visit to the Hollows was more than two years ago,” Artham answered, leaning against the tree.
“Well you’ve certainly changed,” Malik said, and Artham thought he detected something strange in his tone of voice. Malik paused, hesitating. “How’s the High King?” He finally asked. “Has your brother changed much since last time? I don’t think I’ve seen him since you’ve been here.”
“Being king has changed him,” Artham answered slowly. Malik’s questions had something strange about them. Anyway, he had scarcely known Esben, since he and Artham had been in the higher group of Durgan guild the last time the brothers had been in the Hollows, going out on short patrols while the younger group was still training. Malik nodded as if processing the information.
“How have you been?” Artham finally asked.
“Fine, I’m an official Durgan since last year,” Malik said shortly and absentmindedly, a line of worry forming between his brows. Artham was surprised, since this was news that his friend would usually have relayed with much more excitement.
“Congratulations,” Artham said, clapping Malik on the shoulder.
“Thanks,” Malik answered. Again, he barely thought about the answer he gave Artham, only looked with concern at a specific spot in the now dancing crowd.
“Malik, is something wrong?” Artham finally asked awkwardly, after a moment of silence that was too long for comfort.
“Nothing is wrong,” Malik answered. He paused thoughtfully, as if trying to figure out how to say something, then looked toward Artham.
“Can I ask you something?” He asked slowly. Artham tilted his head, and only paused a second before he answered, shrugging.
“You can ask, but that doesn’t mean I’ll answer,” He said, then raising his eyebrows. “Whether or not I give you an answer depends on what the question is. Ask away,” he finished.
For a second, Malik looked decidedly uncomfortable.
“Do you know who that boy is?” He asked quickly, as if he had almost decided not to ask.
“Who?” Artham asked.
What trouble has Aro gotten himself into now? He thought, shifting position so that he could see the crowd, ready to go help resolve whatever scrape the kid was in now.
“Red cloak,” Malik said, gesturing. Artham looked to where he pointed.
“Of course I know, that’s my brother,” Artham said quickly, surprised and a little confused.
“Esben?” Malik asked, his expression now grim and determined, though by his tone Artham thought that he had already known the answer, and Artham had only confirmed whatever he was thinking.
“Do I have another brother you know of?” Artham asked, because he didn’t know what was going on and Malik was acting strange and somehow it had to do with his brother, and all of that annoyed him. Malik just nodded and stood thoughtfully, frustration or maybe even anger showing on his face while he watched Esben and the girl he was dancing with.
“Is that your sister with him?” Artham finally asked, just to break the silence.
“Cousin,” Malik answered shortly, turning to leave.
“Thanks Artham,” he said, stepping over a root.
“Hey Malik,” Artham called after him. Malik stopped, tilting his head.
“Is my brother in trouble or something?” He asked in growing concern. Malik paused.
“No, he shouldn’t be.” He answered coldly.
“That…doesn’t really answer my question.” Artham said, getting more worried by the minute.
“Bye, Artham. It was nice to see you again,” Malik said. Artham stepped forward to follow him when he left, but the crowd had already closed around him again.
So he simply watched, and thankfully Malik went in the opposite direction as Esben. That relieved Artham a little, but not much. He watched Esben and the girl-he thought her name was Nia-finish the dance together. Both were smiling and laughing. Then, Esben said something to the girl and they went over to the food. Artham started making his way through the crowd. It didn’t occur to him at that moment to watch Esben’s interactions with the girl for something strange, but as he walked closer to them he realized that something was very definitely wrong with his brother.
As soon as he had turned from the girl to buy something, his face was overshadowed with worry and maybe something like fear. He turned back to her and forced himself to smile, though Artham could still detect the worry in his eyes.
But then the girl was smiling and she said something to him that made his smile turn real, and he bowed dramatically, handing her something he held in a napkin. She laughed and said something else, something that made Esben’s face flush red and he put a hand on his neck, laughing awkwardly.
Their conversation continued and even though Artham desperately wanted to barge right into that conversation and figure out exactly what was going on, something inside him told him to wait.
So he continued watching, absentmindedly leaning against the wall, again instinctively choosing a spot half hidden from the crowd.
As he watched them, a slow realization came over him that he desperately tried to push down, telling himself not to jump to conclusions and that Esben would tell him if something-
Who am I kidding he’d never tell me that.
But he told himself that if course he couldn’t judge just by watching his brother and this girl for just a few moments-
But he has been acting strangely lately…
A crowd of other young men and women about Esben’s age clustered around him and Nia, laughing and talking and then Artham could barely see his brother.
But then the crowd shifted, and even though Esben was talking and joking with everyone, Artham saw the shadow of concern and worry flicker over his face, and every time he turned to look at Nia.
He seemed to have become somewhat of a favorite in the crowd of friends, but still his eyes always followed that girl.
Then someone said something and the small group turned to leave. Esben said goodbye to everyone, at least that’s what it looked like, and then slowly said something to Nia. Her cheeks flushed pink and she said something back that made Esben smile, then she realized the crowd had gone on without her. She turned and said a hasty goodbye to Esben, somehow not noticing that his face had twisted in worry and he had opened his mouth to say something else. Then she was gone.
Esben had put out a hand as if to try to make her stay for just a moment longer, to tell her whatever it was he needed to say, but he let his hand drop slowly back to his side and watched her walk away with a long, disconsolate sigh.
No, there’s no way this can be happening, Artham though. But it was. He was sure of it. Oh Maker, why now, of all times? Why here? Then another thought washed over him, bringing another realization of his responsibility as Throne Warden, and a small dose of panic. What in Aerwiar am I supposed to do about this!?
Then the fact that had been trying to force its way to the surface of his thoughts finally made its way through.
Esben is in love.
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