Her Cinder Throne (Completed)

Chapter 100

Someone shook Cole's shoulder, waking her from a deep sleep.

"He's awake," a voice said, and Cole quickly straightened up. She swiped the tiny bit of drool that had collected at the corner of her mouth and blinked rapidly as she slowly remembered where she was. She looked around at the people crowded around her. A human man she did not know the name of, her mother, Mabon, Tanwyn over in the corner, and Bastian's mother. It was the human man who had woken her, and Cole vaguely recalled that he was some sort of duke that used to be close friends with Bastian's mother.

Cole pulled herself out of her chair, flushing at the realization that she had been zonked out hard in front of all these people, though she knew they probably hadn't been looking at her at all. Everyone's eyes were trained on the bed in the room, where Bastian lay, tucked under the covers and with no shirt except for some bandages that had already soaked through with blood.

He at least looked cleaner than before, and as Cole approached him she saw that his eyes were open now. The deathly pallor that had haunted him for two days had begun to break, with a little bit of pink showing in his cheeks. His mother, still vacant and airy, seemed almost like a statue at his bedside, all except for her hand in his.

They were all crammed in his bedroom, and Cole wished she could have told at least half of them to leave. But his mother had a right to be there, and the duke had earned his place by bringing her back from exile and swearing his fealty as a right hand man to Bastian. Then her mother, who Cole didn't want to part from, along with Tanwyn. And she needed Mabon to keep up the healing magic on Bastian's wound, using the Sparkstone cufflette to boost his own natural magic. Without it, Mabon had said Bastian would have slipped away within minutes. A wound to the heart was no small matter to mend, even if it was a mostly magic scar.

All this meant a packed room that felt more like a barrel full of fish than a sick room. She had to practically force her way to his bedside.

"Welcome back," Cole said, her voice rusty with sleeplessness and the pain of her own wound. "That was one impressive nap." She smiled.

Bastian quirked his brow and attempted a laugh, but it was weak and half-hearted. "Did the battle stop?" he asked, his eyes scanning over everyone peering down at him. No doubt this was a strange place to find oneself, tucked into your own bed but with a crowd of strangers watching your every move.

Cole nodded. "We've a truce with the men who your father was using to make his army," she said. "The Cursed we were able to free due to my being Bound to you."

Bastian looked down at the bandages on his chest, his face blanching of color once again. For a moment, Cole thought he might pass out again.

"What of this?" he asked, voice hoarse. He lifted a hand, pressing it against the bandage over his heart.

Her mother stepped forward. She looked as lucid as she ever had, a stark contrast to Bastian's mother. It was hard to believe that the two women were so similar, now that her mother was wearing royal Eldritch robes and seemed willowy in only body. While her mother's torture had ended, she wasn't sure that Bastian's mother would ever be able to escape hers. For who could ever even imagine being married to Thijs? Who could imagine the brutality and fear she lived under for years, and the terror she felt when a son was born to carry on his father's legacy?

Cole was intensely glad that her mother could look so serious and present, pressed close to Bastian's bed and her side. She obviously still was physically weak, but Cole had hope that the spells of vacancy had left her for good.

"I've been talking to our Mystiks and Healers," her mother said, addressing Bastian. "While they know little of binding humans to Old Magic, they have looked through our records and listened to the old tales sung by the bards."

Bastian looked up at her with large, brown eyes filled with an emotion Cole could not quite pin down. "What did they find?" he asked.

Her mother drew in a small breath and averted her eyes. "You have to understand that binding Old Magic at all is an abomination. It is raw magic, and is as wrong as trying to tame a wild bear and make it dance for you every night." She looked back up at him, her gaze firm but sympathetic. "Bound with a human, it is obviously much stronger. So strong, that your body will not be able to entirely purge itself of the Old Magic."

Bastian's brows drew together. "What does that mean, exactly?"

Mabon spoke now. "I'm sorry, your highness, but it means that the darkness of those cave monsters will reside in your heart for the rest of your days."

Cole shot him a glare. "Thank you, Mabon, but I don't think we need to be quite so blunt about it!"

Mabon shrugged, disinterested in the machinations of humans and their emotions. It was hard for her to remember that, while his loyalty to her was strong as iron, Mabon was still an Eldritch. And their morals and interests were not quite the same as the humans. It was just another reminder of just how strange and different her life was going to become.

She turned back to Bastian, reaching down to place her hand on his arm.

He looked up at her mother, eyes bouncing between hers, searching for something. "Is that true? It's... I'll never be free from what my father did to me?"

"Mabon is correct. Your father used magic to bind your heart with the heart of the cave monsters. You cannot be free of it unless you rip your own heart out, and no one here wants that," she said. "There will be some of the dark Old Magic in you from now on. It is a small amount, and should you be willing, it could be containable."

Bastian turned away, burying his face as much as he could in his pillow. His eyes squeezed shut and his shoulders bunched with tension.

"Bastian, it's not all bad," Cole whispered, leaning in close. "You've been permanently damaged by your father, and that's... that's entirely and irrevocably unfair. It's tragically unfair. But you can't change it, you can only grow with it.

My mother told me that you will have some magic left over, from the Old Magic. You can use that for good. To help people and be a king that does not use power for evil."

Bastian didn't open his eyes, but answered her in a low voice. "He wanted me to be ruthless and as dark as him. He ripped my body to shreds, and then used it as his own vessel for power. Why should I want to even live beyond today?"

Cole sniffled, fighting back the tears that threatened. "Because you are not Thijs. You don't have to be his son. You don't even have to be a king or a prince. You are Bastian, who survived his father and survived being made into something he wasn't. You fought all that time, so you can't give up now."

Bastian slowly opened his eyes, tears gently rolling down his cheeks into the pillow. Cole wished that the room was empty, that he didn't have to go through this with so many people watching, but she also knew that it was something good. That a king showing his turmoil and pain was better than a king who pretended he didn't have any emotions at all.

"Look," she said. "You are the king of this country now, and you have some magic. You can rule and change what your father has done. You can wipe him out of existence and make it so that no one even remembers that he was the one to rule before you. All it takes is your fighting."

"And you?" Bastian asked. "Your mother is the queen of the fae. What does that mean for you?"

Cole shook her head. "The same. I will be a queen that is better than Gethwine was. I will use what I can to be wise and fair. That's all we can do."

Bastian rolled over, looking up at the ceiling. "What now, then?"

"Well," she said, glancing around at all the people crowded close. "We're Bound King and Bound Queen now, which means our treaty is strong and unbreakable. Which means peace. So, now, I suppose we return to our homes and heal what the war destroyed."

Bastian nodded and held out his hand. She took it, cupping his hand with both of hers.

"Sister," he said, eyes sorrowful but resigned.

She paused a second, knowing that a part of her matched that sorrow. But she smiled and nodded. "Brother."