Of Fairytales and Magic by Emma Hamm

Chapter 27

“Stop touching it, you’re going to ruin the fabric with your grubby hands.” Esther slapped Freya’s fingers away from the edge of the cream-colored bodice.

“My hands aren’t dirty,” Freya replied with a laugh. “When would I have gotten them dirty?”

“I don’t know, but I do know that you’re more likely to ruin the dress than wear it the right way, and I refuse to let you ruin this day for me.” Esther bustled about the bedroom with all the force of a tempest.

Apparently, her sister was taking the wedding to heart. As if it were her own, in fact.

They stood in front of a mirror in Freya’s private bedroom that the Stronghold had put together for this reason only. She still slept in the same room with Eldridge, though they couldn’t share that space today. Apparently. Esther had clarified that neither bride nor groom was going to see each other because that was bad luck.

Her sister had insisted the Stronghold clear this tower room surrounded by windows. That way, she could see Freya in natural light and get her makeup perfect. Even though doing her makeup and hair consisted of telling Freya to change something in the mirror while her magic did all the work.

Freya rolled her eyes. She wasn’t phased by anything that was happening with the wedding. She would have gone out into a field somewhere with Eldridge alone and been perfectly happy. But of course, everyone wanted to make a big deal out of the affair. And likely she should be very happy and grateful they were all helping.

Instead, they had made it more stressful. Particularly her sister, who seemed to think that if this wedding didn’t go well, then her own would surely flounder.

Esther had dressed herself in a pale blue gown that rivaled the sky. Magic decorated the edges, so they sparkled in the sunlight. Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders in perfect curls, but she still kept touching it as though the hair was out of place.

It wasn’t.

Freya looked over her shoulder at the only person in the room with some sense and mouthed, “Help.”

Lark nodded firmly and then clapped her hands to get Esther’s attention. “Could you get your mother, please? I want to make sure that her dress is looking satisfactory. I’m also a little concerned that her flowers won’t match Freya’s, and we can’t have that.”

Esther’s face went white as snow. “What if the flowers don’t match? Lark, we don’t have time to go get new ones!”

Her sister fled from the room as though hounds nipped at her feet. She’d apparently forgotten that all the flowers were conjured up by the Stronghold to begin with.

Freya heaved a sigh of relief as the door slammed shut. “Thank you. I don’t think I will survive another minute of her worries. Everything is going to be fine, and even if it doesn’t follow her exact plan, it will still be a beautiful wedding.”

“Of course it will be.” Lark adjusted her own matching blue gown, then turned Freya toward the full-length mirror. “Now, would you look at how beautiful you are? Eldridge is going to faint dead away when he sees the woman he’s about to marry. It’s not fair, really.”

She’d been avoiding the woman in the mirror for a bit now. Not because she was so afraid to see herself, but because she didn’t know what she would find. Her sister had run the entire show thus far.

The woman staring back at her had never been more beautiful. Freya’s hair was coiled atop her head, with dark tendrils hanging around her face. Rubies encrusted every inch of her body, from the tiny circlet on her forehead to the cascading ring of crimson scales at her throat. The cream-colored wedding dress hugged her waist and bell sleeves fell off the edges of her shoulders to touch the ground. The skirt hugged her curves even as the sun caught the fabric in a beam of light that made every fiber glow like the sun. One could just barely see the raised bump of her belly where her daughter was showing.

“I do look beautiful,” she replied, touching a hand to the changes on her skin. “I didn’t think the magic would give me scales, you know. I thought it would give me feathers or fur like the rest of you. Maybe antlers, if I was lucky.”

Lark pressed a kiss to her head. “Oh my darling, we take on the attributes of the creature we are most like. And while I’d like to say you are a rabbit, you are much more terrifying than that.”

The doors burst open again, and Esther thrust her mother into the room. “I found her! What about the flowers?”

Their mother was not holding flowers, but she looked demure and kind. In fact, Freya didn’t think she’d ever seen her mother look more beautiful than at this moment.

“Oh, Freya.” Her mother pressed her hands to her chest and sighed. “You look stunning, my dear. Just like a faerie princess.”

“I suppose I am one of those now.” Freya reached out her arms and tugged her mother in for a hug. “Even though that used to be your worst nightmare.”

The watery laugh was her mother’s only response. Apparently, emotions had clogged up her voice.

Esther pulled them apart, her own eyes misty with tears. “Stop that. You’re going to cry on her dress and then we’re all going to be sorry. That dress was difficult to make, you know.”

“I made it, not you.” Freya swiped her hand underneath her eyes. “But I will ruin the makeup we spent hours deciding on, so you’re right.”

It felt so good to have her entire family here. Ready to be with her on this momentous occasion that would only happen once in her life. After all, how many times did a mortal woman marry a Goblin King?

Another knock on the door had all the women in the room turning. Her father stood in the doorway, leaning against the door frame with a soft smile on his face. He’d shaved for the wedding, and his handsome face was all angles and sharp edges.

He wasn’t the soft father she remembered. He never would be again with that wolf in his eyes, but at least the beast recognized Freya as its child, as well.

“You’re late,” he said. His voice was a soft rumble, deeper than she remembered. “People are going to start thinking that the Autumn Thief has gotten cold feet.”

Butterflies twisted in her stomach, but she was so ready for this moment. It felt like she’d been waiting a lifetime for it.

Freya looked at the other women and smiled. “I’ll see you all down there. I’m walking with Dad.”

The Stronghold opened a portal for her family to step through as she walked toward her father. Freya had dreamt of this moment since she was a little girl. That her father would walk her down the aisle and a good man would wait for her hand. That no matter what happened in her life, he would always be there to give her away.

And for a long time, she’d thought she wouldn’t get this moment because he was dead. But now he was here, and this moment was everything she had ever wanted.

Freya put her hand on his waiting arm. “I’m glad you’re here, Dad. Really glad.”

“I know.” He patted her hand. “I’m not going to mess up your makeup any more than your mother. Instead, I’m going to say that if he hurts you, I will hunt him down.”

“He’s the Goblin King,” she replied with a snort. “I don’t know if you could kill him.”

“Perhaps I couldn’t. But the wolf definitely could.” His eyes flashed bright yellow, like twin gold coins. “My beast has killed faeries before and would be happy to again for our daughter.”

Actually, she didn’t doubt that the wolf could take care of whatever creature it wanted. She’d even wager on that creature if she let it into a room with the Horned God itself.

Speaking of... “Do you mind if we go the long way?” she asked.

“Second thoughts?”

“No, I just want to make sure a couple of old friends see me. They couldn’t come to the wedding, but they’d love to see the dress. I’m sure.” Freya led her father down the winding halls that were perfectly polished now.

The Stronghold preferred wood floors these days. The entire building had turned into a rather beautiful lodge. Filled with warm woods, brightly colored tapestries, and windows that let all the sunlight into the rooms. Not a single red leaf could be found on the floor, because the Stronghold much preferred a clean residence.

Or perhaps that was Freya.

They paused for a moment in front of the throne room. Three faces stood above the throne itself, each one carved from stunningly bright bronze. Freya released her father to give the old gods one last spin and a curtsey. And if her eyes didn’t deceive her, all three faces curved with smiles. Even the skull.

She put her hand back on her father’s arm and let him lead her to the front of the Stronghold. The courtyard beyond was filled with long streamers of flowers that attached to the building and created a canopy to a small platform. There, her new husband waited for her.

Eldridge stood in a fine black suit with gold edges. His hair had been slicked back from his face, though a few strands had already fallen in front of his starry eyes. A hundred people stood at the ready to watch their Autumn Thief get married.

An audience full of creatures that were part mortal, part beast, and who she loved more than anything.

Padding footsteps raced down the hall to her left, then skidded to a screeching halt beside her. Arrow was breathing hard, his sides heaving as he straightened his tuxedo jacket.

Amused, she looked down at him with a smile curving her lips. “Are you ready?”

“I wasn’t prepared to walk you down the aisle, Freya. I thought I was going to be in the audience with the rest of your family,” he huffed. But she could see how pleased he was.

Freya bent down to press a kiss atop his head. “I wouldn’t leave you out of this for the world, my dearest friend.”

And with that, she turned her focus to the man waiting for her at the end of the aisle. The three of them walked through the crowd, her father’s hand in hers, and Arrow’s paw in the other.

Everything else faded away. She had no idea what her father said as he handed her off, only that he squeezed her hand. Arrow patted her arm and then joined the others in the crowd. All she knew was that Eldridge stared at her like she had hung all the stars in the sky.

They’d practiced what they should do next. After all, there was no priest who would wander into the faerie realms. And Freya had wanted to honor the old ways, as the old gods had begged her to do.

“You are the most stunning woman I have ever seen in my very long life,” Eldridge whispered. “I cannot wait to spend an eternity with you.”

“Careful what you wish for,” she replied with a soft laugh.

“I will wish for this a thousand times over. That my life will be filled with hours upon hours looking into your eyes. That your laughter becomes the only music I dance to. And that until the last star falls from the sky, you and I will prove what everlasting love looks like.” He lifted her hand and kissed the knuckle where her ring finger had once been.

Eldridge reached into his back pocket and drew out a long rope. He raised their hands so all could see them, and then looped the rope over their bound hands.

Power surged inside her, and when she spoke, Freya’s voice rang throughout the courtyard. “This cord is a symbol of our lives intertwining.”

“Before this, we were separate in life, action, and thought.” He winked, as if the mere idea that they were ever separate amused him.

She took the rope in her free hand and looped it a second time. “As our hands are bound, so are our lives.”

He threw the rope over their hands a third time, tugging it so tight she gasped. “So are our spirits. Together now, forever, until immortality drains from our forms and the world wanes into a new age.”

“I love you,” she said. The words filled her with a light that was so powerful it burst from her form. She glowed like the sun standing next to the moon, who she finally, after all this time, got to kiss.

“Love isn’t a strong enough word, Autumn Thief. My queen.” Eldridge’s eyes glowed with a thousand galaxies hiding in the dark orbs. “I worship the ground you walk on, and every one of my kisses is a promise that I will never leave your side. And I will kiss you a hundred times a day, from now until the end of forever.”

Using their hands, he swept her into an earth shattering kiss as the surrounding crowd burst into cheers. A thousand red leaves rained down on their heads as the Stronghold shook with happiness.

The Autumn Thief and the Goblin King were finally wed. After all this time and adventure and hardship, they had a future they could look forward to. No more battles. No more fights. Just the two of them and a thousand years experiencing every magical thing the world could offer.

And when they drew back, Freya stared into those eyes she loved so much and she knew that everything had fallen into place.

“I really do love you,” she whispered so only he could hear.

Eldridge pressed their foreheads together and touched their bound hands to her belly. “I know. I’ve never questioned that for a single moment.”

Arrow wiggled his way in between them, his beloved face poking at their legs. “Come on now, you two. There’s plenty of time for the mushy gushy stuff later on! Everyone wants to congratulate you and if you don’t do it, then I’m going to lose my head. So, shall we?”

She sighed but shrugged. “Into the madness, I suppose?”

Eldridge held out his arm for her to take. “Together. Like always.”