Awake (6 page)

“Do all of your warriors own a weapon
belonging
to them?”

“No. There are so many warriors and not enough weapons.” Gideon continues to touch the sword as he speaks. His voice is almost sad. “A warrior is very fortunate to be able to find his true weapon. The odds are very small to be one of the lucky ones.”

“Are you?”

Gideon glances back up at me when I speak.

“One of the lucky ones? Do you possess a special weapon meant for you?” I ask curiously.

He shakes his head. “Sadly, I do not. I have been training for only two years, though, and am still considered quite young among the fae, as I am sure you understand.” He gives me a knowing look, and I nod in agreement. We are both very young in fae terms, still considered children by many.

He stares back down at the sword he is holding before continuing. “I do try every new weapon the queen sends to us in the hope of finding a match. When I saw this one, I had hoped…well, I'm sure you understand. This sword is quite amazing, and I can sense the power it holds. I hoped the sword was mine but, unfortunately, it was not meant to be.” He gazes at the weapon in his hands longingly one last time and then places it back in the cabinet. “The true owner of this sword will prove to be a fierce warrior and an even better fae. I just hope to be around to meet them.”

I also had felt the power of the sword as soon as the cabinet opened. But I am not sure if that is what drew me initially. Something about this sword feels familiar, as if it calls to me, but I know the weapon is not meant for me. The pull is different. My thoughts stop when Gideon draws my attention back to him.

“I've seen your daggers. They were fashioned for you as well, weren't they?” he asks, continuing our conversation. I am surprised to find Gideon easy to talk to and comfortable to be around.

“Yes, they were. They were a gift when I began training, but I do not know if they were fashioned with the same intent as your weapons. As far as I know, the king does not do such favors for his court.” I have to catch myself before my voice can betray too much indignation.

“Well, I'm sure they were. You are quite amazing with them from what I've been told— as if they are a part of you. I would imagine you had a very hard time relaxing without them.” He gives me another knowing look, and I reluctantly admit he is right.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. I felt as if a part of me was missing." I tell him, remembering the feeling of relief I felt when I held them in my hands once again. I was able to take my first relaxing breath since arriving at the seelie court.

“You feel this way at the unseelie court as well?”

“Well…yes, but you know the unseelie. They can be unpredictable. Every fae must always be on guard there.”

“True” is all he says before he closes all of the weapon cabinets and begins to lead me to another one of the training areas.

I follow along almost blindly, hearing small bits of what Gideon is saying, making sure to comment when I should, but
m
y thoughts are now consumed with my weapons and if I am their one true owner. I have tried many other weapons over the last few years—both by choice and by force—and none of them ever compared to my daggers. No other weapons gave me the same confidence in a fight. But this thought confuses me, because I know the unseelie king does not have weapons fashioned for particular fae. I know there are no weapon-makers in the unseelie court that would even bother to do such a thing for any other fae. And even if they did,
they would not
just give it away. No, such a weapon would come at a very high price. I must have become the owner of my daggers by accident, a very fortunate accident for me.

I am pulled from my contemplations when Willow approaches. She lays her hand on my forearm, and I meet her questioning gaze. Of course, she can tell something is troubling me.

A subtle shake of my head tells her not to voice her question. When I return my attention to Gideon, I see his expression is different, a bit hopeful and nervous. Now I am uneasy. Embarrassment at not paying attention begins to set in and I can feel my cheeks begin to heat slightly. While I was lost in thought, he must have asked me something and—by the look on his face—I am sure I am not going to like what it was.

“I am sorry, Gideon. I was lost in thought for a minute. The anticipation of fighting has me side-tracked. Could you repeat your question, please?”

“I understand. I was just wondering if you would like to join me for dinner tonight, after our sparing session, of course.” At my questioning look, he clarifies, "Maybe we could talk more about how you've trained at your court?" He shifts nervously from one foot to the other and wipes his palms on his pants. His smile is polite, and I realize it would be rude of me to turn him down. However, I am still not convinced of his motives.

“That would be wonderful! Willow and I would love to join you. Right, Willow?” I turn to her with a bright smile but a very serious look in my eyes. “We can take care of our business after the sparring session and then get ready together. This will be so much fun!” Although I
do not
want to give Gideon the wrong impression, I cannot deny how nice it will be to be around others for a change. I also find the idea of getting ready with Willow rather appealing.

Willow stammers for a moment but finally looks at Gideon, her voice hesitant when asking, “Umm, well, if it's all right with you…” She trails off, unsure of what to say and whether she is welcome.

“Of course you're invited, Willow. I would love to have dinner with the both of you. I'll also ask Thorne to join us if that would be okay with the two of you.” Gideon nods toward his friend that had been sitting with Willow while we took our tour of the training room. Willow seems happy with the suggestion, so I nod my approval as well.

Gideon beams at both of us. “Wonderful. I look forward to our dinner. But for now…” He gives me a calculating look and walks to the center of an empty sparring area. Silently accepting his challenge, I follow.

I glance back at Gideon who is smiling brightly again, but this one is in anticipation. The usual shifting in fae features begins to happen making our appearance match our mood and I watch as his sharp features begin to take shape on his face. As I do, I sense my own transformations begin. The anticipation begins to build as my heart rate picks up. I bounce on the balls of my feet and begin to shake my muscles loose.

Gideon winks and asks, “Shall we fight?”

I take my battle stance and nod once.

Then I attack.

I attack Gideon with an intensity I do not usually use when training. My eagerness outweighs my caution, but I soon notice my mistake. Slowing my movements, I begin to pull back until I realize Gideon is not only keeping up but enjoying the fight as well. The intense gleam in his eye is a clear indication of this as he almost lands a roundhouse kick, but the intensity does not mask the clear enjoyment there. By the look on his face as well as my constant need to block punches and duck away from kicks, he is not pulling his punches; he is truly fighting with me. The fact that I did not need to prove myself before he started treating me like an equal is both a relief and encouraging. It shows much more of his character than anything else has so far. In a matter of minutes this fae has gained my respect.

Now that I do not have to slow my pace, I increase the force I am using, pushing him toward the outer ring of the sparring circle. He allows this for a moment, falling back toward the outside as if I am besting him, but before I know it, he is pushing back. Every punch I throw, he blocks then counters with one of his own. Every kick or stunt I pull, he mimics or blocks, but I mirror and block his punches and kicks as well. Due to the fact that we both seem to be matched quite well in fighting skills, neither of us seems to be able to get many blows in. This will prove to be a long and much-needed training session.

As we continue to fight, my muscles loosen further. Sweat begins to drip down my face, neck, and back. Soon the dampness will soak through my clothing. A few cuts and scrapes open up, and I can already feel where I will have bruises tomorrow. These occurrences are not only normal but welcomed. This is how I have always trained, normal clothes, hand-to-hand combat, the best way to always be prepared for a battle, so the feelings are almost comforting. The sensation feels wonderful and freeing. I focus on my fighting, which allows me to begin to drift into a zone of utter calm. My instincts take over and although I am very aware of what is happening around me, a few distant thoughts creep into my mind.

Willow, Gideon, the queen, Reed, and Rho all swarm around in my head, making it hard to concentrate on just one of them. Questions swirl around, images flash in and out, and confusion sets in. Usually I can spar on autopilot, but with so much going on in my head, I get distracted and Gideon lands a sharp blow to the left side of my head.

My head snaps back, and the image scatters, returning me to the present.

In an instant, Gideon stops fighting and takes a step toward me. “Poppy? Are you all right?” His concern and confusion are both obvious. He knows he should not have been able to land that blow; I am a better fighter than that.

“Oh yes!” I say almost too brightly. I straighten, making sure not to call attention to the side of my head, which is now throbbing. Gideon would have never gotten in such a good hit if I had been paying attention. All the chaos and confusion from the past few days finally caught up to me and I let my guard down, but I do not plan to let it happen again. I school my face and my voice before speaking once again. “I am great. That was a great session, but I think that is enough for today. I am sorry, but would it be all right if we stopped? Can we pick this up again tomorrow?”

He still looks concerned but does not question me further. “Of course. Would you like to postpone dinner as well? I would understand if you were too tired.”

Although he meant well by the offer, my back stiffens, and I raise my chin. “I am more than well enough for dinner. I just wish to take the training slowly. Willow and I will meet you in the dining hall at seven o'clock. Will that be fine?”

“Yes, yes, that would be fine. I'm sorry, Poppy. I didn't mean to sound as if I think you're weak. I merely wanted to make sure you knew I wouldn't be offended if you canceled.”

“I do not wish to cancel. Willow and I will see you this evening.” I turn quickly to make my way over to where Willow is sitting, patient and quiet, observing all of the other warriors training. She must not have observed my little scene with Gideon, because she did not notice me approaching her until I was a few feet away.

Upon seeing me, she jumps up and makes her way toward me. “Oh, Poppy!” she gushes. “You were amazing. I've never seen anyone fight as well as Gideon. He's so strong and fast, but you matched him all the way. That was incredible!”

Yeah, until he almost took my head off,
I think ruefully to myself, but my bad mood has softened at her enthusiasm so instead I say, “Thank you, Willow. How did you enjoy watching all of the warriors train?”

“It was wonderful. I've always known in theory what the warriors do, but observing them is very different. They're so intense and strong. I was concerned more than once that someone would get hurt, but they don't seem to get injured at all.”

“No. We do not. Between our extreme ability to fight as well as our natural healing abilities, it is very rare for a fae to get injured during a training session. It is why we are warriors.” She nods in understanding, and I smile. It is nice to talk to someone like this. “Now come. How about we go get ready for dinner?”

She claps her hands together twice before she loops her arm through mine, and we begin to walk back to my room. I start to pull away from her because I know I am sweaty, but she pulls me back. As if reading my mind she says, “It's okay. We're both changing anyway.”

“Yes, we are. So…” I begin hesitantly. We have not had a chance to speak since the dinner invitation, and I want to make sure she is not concerned with the arrangement. “How do you feel about going to dinner with Gideon and Thorne? I know I did not give you much of a choice, but I was not comfortable going alone. I am sorry.”

“Don't be sorry! I'm very excited! I've never been invited to dinner before. This will be so much fun!” There is a pause, then her face falls along with her enthusiasm. “Oh no,” she sighs.

“What is going on? What is wrong?” I take a quick glance around for any possible danger, but when I perceive none, my gaze shifts back to hers.

She looks up at me with tears in her eyes. “I can't go.”

I am a bit baffled by the quick mood change. “Why not?”

“The queen hasn't given me permission, and I have nothing to wear.” Her eyes get misty, but she hurriedly clears it away with a few blinks of her eyes, giving me an unsteady smile. “That's okay, maybe next time?” she asks. The hope in her voice makes my heart break a little. The fact she has never even been invited to dinner is bad enough, but the thought of her being unable to go now is even worse. She is so sweet and caring, she deserves this.

“Nonsense,” I say forcefully, taking her arm back into mine so I can tug her down the hall once again. “I have plenty of dresses you can wear. I will let the queen know you will be attending dinner with me. She will not object.”

“That is very sweet of you, Poppy, but I couldn't wear one of your dresses. They are very special. They're meant to be worn by royalty.”

This time I am the one who stops abruptly. “Royalty?”

“Oh! Um…well, you know…the queen…she…” Willow is looking everywhere but at me. It
is
obvious she
is
very uncomfortable and maybe even a bit scared, but there are too many odd things going on, this one topping the list. She
is
not getting off the hook that easily.

“She…what? Why do I have dresses that are meant for royalty? I know I am a guest, not a prisoner, but this is a bit extreme. She does not treat all of her guests this way, does she?”

“No, of course not. Poppy, you are special.” She looks at me desperately, as if she is willing me to believe her and stop asking questions, but I cannot. My instincts are screaming at me, telling me there is much more going on here than what I am being told. I am determined to get to the bottom of it.

“How? How am I special? I should be the enemy!” I begin to grow frustrated with this entire mess. I am tired of being treated with so much freedom, and explanation as to why.

A new voice cuts into our conversation, “You are special because you are a fierce warrior, an amazing fae, and a loyal friend. Those traits are very hard to find in someone. This makes you very special, Poppy.” I had whirled around at the sound of the queen's musical voice and now I stand staring at her as she gives me her explanation.

One that is total crap.

And apparently I said this out loud, because the queen raises her eyebrow at me, and I hear Willow stifle a laugh behind me.

Great. When I see Reed again, I will need to remember to yell at him for instilling such bad habits in me.

“I apologize. I did not think before I spoke,” I tell the queen quickly.

She waves off my apology with a flick of her hand. “It's quite all right, my dear. But I must ask, why do you think what I told you is, as you say, ‘total crap'?”

I stifle my own laughter this time at hearing the queen use such a human term. I am sure those words have never come out of her mouth before.

I compose myself before answering her. “Well, there are many fae who fit the same description, but I assume they are not staying in one of the nicest rooms in your court. I also assume they are not greeted by fresh flowers every morning or given a servant to tend to them directly. They are probably not given the freedoms I have been given with my training and weapons, and they are
definitely
not given gowns fit for royalty to wear around whenever they please.” My voice had risen during my speech to the point of which I was almost shouting. I did not apologize this time, because I was ready for the truth.

As the words leave my mouth, the queen turns a sharp look to Willow. I step to the side to block her from the queen's view. “This has nothing to do with her,” I say.

The queen's eyes soften once again when she turns back to me. “There is that ever-present loyalty I spoke of. You just met her, and you choose to protect her from me. Interesting.”

“Willow is my friend. I protect my friends. And like I said, she has nothing to do with this. I would like an answer to my question. Why am I treated this way when no one else is?”

She looks at me for a long moment, appearing to be deciding what to say. When she finally speaks, she changes the subject. “I understand you have a dinner engagement this evening?” I start to interrupt, frustrated at her evasion, but she holds her hand up to stop me and continues. “Go and get ready for your dinner, and enjoy your evening. We'll meet for breakfast in the morning, and I will give you your answers. Will that do?”

I am stunned for a moment that she has agreed to explain things to me. I recover before she can change her mind. “Yes. That will do fine. Thank you. Oh, and Willow is going to dinner as well,” I say quickly.

Willow shoots me a nervous look but I shrug.

The queen gives me a small smile and nods before turning to walk back down the hall, leaving Willow and me in silence. We both stand there watching her until she disappears down the hall.

Willow is the first to break the silence. “I'm sorry, Poppy. I didn't mean to cause trouble.”

Turning back toward her, I lock my arm with hers once again and lead us toward my room. “You did no such thing, so there is no reason for you to apologize. Besides, I got what I wanted. I will find everything out in the morning. And you get to go to dinner with me.”

“Thank you,” she says softly. I smile at her, but it does not quite reach my eyes. Now I am the nervous one, unsure if I really want to know the answers to my questions after all.

Knowing there is no sense in worrying about this now, I return my focus to the present as Willow and I reach my room. Telling her I am going to bathe first before I pick out my dress, I go into the washroom to do just that. While in the room, I take the opportunity to try to recall my dreams once again by using a little magic, but my body and mind must be exhausted from the tra
ining session because it does not
work. Frustrated, I wash up quickly. When finished, I pull my hair back before wrapping myself in a towel.

When I step through the doorway into the main room, I stop in my tracks. Dresses are thrown all over the place. Pink ones with ruffles, some with purple sequins, others that are made of plush red velvet, and even some in black satin are covering every surface of my room. Some are long; some are short, and some are extremely fluffy. In all of this, I do not find even one I like. I begin looking past the dresses for Willow. I finally notice her standing by the wardrobe, holding a dress behind her back, smiling mischievously at me.

“Willow, what is all this? I thought we were going to look together. And how is it possible you were able to make such a mess in such a short period of time?”

“I know. I'm so sorry, but I couldn't wait. I was so excited! I found the perfect dress.”

“Oh, how wonderful. I am sure you picked the best one. I know it will look wonderful on you.” I turn to look at all the dresses once again with a frown on my lips. All of them are horrible.

“Oh no, Poppy. I picked the perfect dress for
you.
”

I snort before I cover my mouth and nose with my hand in disbelief. I cannot believe I just did that. Willow begins laughing, making me laugh as well. Soon we are both sitting on the bed, wiping tears from our eyes, trying to catch our breath.