… into the orchard of the mansion in Beinost.
Rows of apple trees spread out before them, in neat rows like soldiers on parade. Amongst them bobbed the brown head of either Fain or Celedro, and a snip, snip could be heard of the gardener steadily cutting back foliage. A glorious blue and lilac dusk with a setting white sun shone down. It was peaceful, as of yet another day of administration, housework and business management.
Except it wasn't. He was still holding onto her, and this was still a day when she had woken up with wings. Clacking on the inside of her beak, Stare tried to raise her hands to begin to struggle. But his hold had pinned her arms to her side, as well as her wings to her back. Growling deeply now she kicked her legs and twisted her head around to glare at him.
“Put me down!”
With a grunt Vitruvion released her. Landing on the ground she found her unbound wings instinctively unfurled somewhat. Her breath was ragged and fast but she gathered her wits rapidly back together. For a while she kept in that pose, crouched and staring frantically around.
“Stare?”
Quickly she stood and spun around to look at him. Look into those eyes that had brought her before before a truly powerful god. One whose soul she had seen into fully, displayed like a playground paradise before her.
Calmly, as aristocratic as ever, Vitruvion leant forwards and fixed his blue eyes on hers. She ground herself and stood her ground proudly as his head moved to the side. And then he was eyeing up her relaxed, gaping wings, her cloak pushed to the back and tangled in a rugged way around her shoulders.
“For the next few days, we will begin to look at what you can do,” he spoke as he extended a hand to run over them. As he did she felt his warm touch on the feathers, and a spark shot down her spine, as if his fingers were alive with electricity. “Raphael was her for too long, and we still have the problem with the trade ship attacks. But for now, you cannot go as you are.”
Rolling back his shoulders he straightened before nodding. “For now I can offer the ships to make harbour elsewhere so we avoid the piracy. Pride, too, can wait until you are better. Right now,” he laid a hand on her shoulder, “You are my greatest concern. You and your strength. We need to get you used to those wings … and understand what you saw back there.”
She tightened her jaw, and grumbled. “So you agree with him? That my wings are … part of some next evolution.”
“My dear,” her god lifted his shoulders and shrugged a little. “I do not know what they are. What I am more determined about today is that you are mine, and no other being will ever have any hold over you. No other god, person, race or thing.”
A sense of resignation came over Stare. Her life was then, truly escapable. From the irremovable cuff at her wrist that connected to his ring, to the fact he was her deity, Vitruvion had his hand on her life. Even if the cuff was not in existence, or even if he did not have a piece of paper that made him the legal owner of her, he would always have a degree of power simply as being her god. When the day came that he was allowed to be worshipped - with the sort of determination he had, Stare was sure it was bound to happen - she would be there still, by his side and ultimately the one who was centre of the practise.
There was a soft sigh as he shook his head as a wordlessness extended between them, born of her querying mind. “That is not what I mean Stare. These words are meant as a possessive term - though admittedly, I do see you as something of my property, but that statement … the core of it is the fact that you will never be beholden to anyone but myself. I plan for nobody to ever have the power to manipulate you, bribe you, have power over you in any way, aside from me. This includes not being captured in any way, and I will work to my fullest extent to fulfil that promise.” Seriously, he looked at her. “Do you understand that?”
Slowly she blinked, drinking in his words. So it was not just the need for power, it was also to protect her. The same reason that, he claimed, he had made his legal right over her. All for her safety, her conservation. The safeguarding of her body and the defence of her soul was his prerogative. That in it had some comfort, and sounded better than the dominating connotations of a possession.
“Damn you, girl,” he muttered as he took a small step forwards and extended his arms. Stare stood still as he wrapped them around her and dragged her towards him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Fain - for it was she and not her brother - pause and peek from behind a tree to watch. Vitruvion bent his form around her, embracing her tightly and reverently. He bent his head to rest his chin on top her head, and a smile flickered into life on his face as he too saw the gardener.
“Let the next few days and maybe weeks be you learning to fly. Then, we will set about dealing with the threats at our doorstep. After this, we will see what we can do to expand the business and from there … eternity is waiting.” He breathed into her ear as he tightened his grip around her. Stare felt the pace of her heartbeat stutter and become heavy and fast. “You are quite a miracle, my dear, and have come a long way since Avis was in that room, begging to be released. I am sure that neither of us expected that it would become … this.”
