The Hawk Lord by Amy Sumida

Chapter Thirty-Six

The city of Larinesse lay on the Eastern coast of Varalorre, a barrier of mists hanging over the sea several miles before it. Beyond that ward, across the Bellor, lay Alantri and the Farungal. But we were safe in the Hawk city, safe in the palace the King had awarded his Hawk Lord for bringing him a Valorian.

The palace spread along a length of imposing cliffs, overlooking the water, and the city sprawled at the base of those cliffs. Larinesse wasn't a mountain city like Kestria, it ranged over wild coastland and spread inward toward towering forests. A vacation spot for the wealthiest Sidhe. The trip there hadn't been nearly as long as the one we'd taken from Stalana, and I knew I could have flown it easily. But I also knew that Dal needed the responsibility of carrying me. He needed something to focus on as he left his home—a home he'd only just returned to and now, may never see again.

We flew over Larinesse on our way to the palace, but no one took notice. There were Hawks circling lazily in the sky, and below, the streets were full of all manner of fae. I would have been straining to catch of glimpse of the various Unsidhe if the circumstances had been different. As it was, I stayed still and silent while Dal carried me to our new home.

From above, the palace looked like a weapon shining in the sunlight. Its towering spires were capped in scaled sheets of polished metal and its pale stones matched the froth on the waves below. Dalsharan circled down before the front doors. He set me on my feet gently before landing, and his guard descended around us. The front courtyard was enclosed in a high wall that reined in a garden of citrus and daffodils, spotted with so much yellow it seemed to be seeped in happiness. Yet every face around me was grim.

“My lord,” a woman hurried around the side of the palace, her eyes wide and her hair escaping its bun. She swiped her hands on her dirty apron. “Hawk Lord, we weren't notified that you'd be visiting. Please, forgive us for being unprepared.”

Dal shifted to Sidhe, and I handed him his robe. He shrugged into it before responding, “No apologies necessary; it was a last-minute decision. Just air out some rooms for us; we won't need them until tonight anyway. And prepare some breakfast.”

“Yes, Hawk Lord!”

“Ms...?”

“Oh! I'm Felina, my lord.” She curtsied.

“Felina, you may address me as Lord Dalsharan, and this is my consort, Lord Ravyn.”

Her dark eyes widened and blinked. “Yes, Lord Dalsharan.”

Dal looked around the courtyard and sighed. “We'll have to make do for a few days, men,” he said to his knights. “But we're soldiers, I think we'll be fine.” He managed a grin for them.

“Yes, Hawk Lord!” they shouted.

“Do not call me that anymore,” Dalsharan said softly, turned, and headed into the palace.

I gave the guards a shrug and hurried after Dal. They didn't follow us. They hadn't even shifted to Sidhe. Instead, two of them took up a position in front of the palace doors and the rest launched into the air to start their patrol.

“Dal?” I caught up with him as he reached the end of the entry hall and entered a library.

No, wait, it was a study. Towering bookshelves were interspersed with dark walls hung with ancient art, all surrounding sitting areas and a massive desk. Dalsharan went past it all and then outside, onto a balcony, via a pair of doors made of glass. He headed straight to the railing where he crumpled over it as if he might fall to his knees without the support. The sound of waves rose from the beach below and the salty air blew back my hair as I stepped out to join him.

“Do you want to be alone?” I asked.

Dalsharan held a hand out to me in answer. I took it, and he yanked me to him, enfolding me in a tight embrace. I hugged him back just as tightly, but my chest constricted when I felt his body shiver. He buried his face in my neck, and hot moisture soaked into my skin. I swept a hand up to the back of Dal's neck and gripped him there. Just stood firm and offered him something to hold on to.

The Hawk Lord wept silently, his body twitching the whole time as if scorning the weakness. I held him and stroked his hair, trying to show him that it was all right. I understood. Even soldiers cry. Especially soldiers. People think that because you kill, you lose your ability to cry. That holding a sword somehow takes you beyond tears. That blood drowns sorrow and hardens a person. Instead, it makes you more vulnerable. Battling monsters does make you strong eventually, but when the battle is over and you go back to your tent, when you're in your cot with the dark pressing in around you, you cry. You cry or you drink or you fuck... or you die.

So, I held the Hawk Lord and let him cry. Later, we would drink and fuck, but we weren't going to die today. This wouldn't kill us. He knew it as well as I did. He just needed a moment to remember that. A breath without anyone judging him. I was honored to be there for him; to be the man he let feel his tears, if not see them.

The waves crashed on the beach below, and I held the Hawk Lord as he finally broke.