Chapter Text
There was no sense of time in the strange landscape John found himself in. It wasn't just that he wasn't sure how long he'd been here. His sense of the world felt muted and strange, like a subtle increase of gravity pulling him down.
He'd traveled a long way through the tunnel before it eventually opened up into a large space. John wasn't sure how large; the Shadows still clung. There were no lamps to light, and he had only the Lantern to guide his way.
John had found, though, that when he wished for more light, the Lantern responded. He could not light the entire cavern but he could see a large swathe of it.
It looked like a dead forest. When John got closer, however, he could see the trees were not trees. They had a tree-like appearance with a trunk and branches, but they were black and tarry and had flat surfaces like crystal. They moved as he passed them; more than one lashed out with knife-like limbs. John had enough room to dodge them or use his sword to cut them when he couldn't. For particularly stubborn "trees" or groups of them, John found that directing the Lantern's light at them made them back off.
Fortunately, they seemed stuck in place and their reach was not enough to grab him. John kept alert. This place was clearly dangerous.
He didn't know where he was going, but he kept walking.
Walking up a gentle slope, John suddenly found what he was looking for. He didn't know what it was, but the sense of certainty was unmistakable.
A large mass took up the entire hill. It was clearly similar to the tree-structures in makeup, but it was too bulky to look like a tree. It was like a giant pile of black goop with tendrils reaching out in every direction.
Against the inky background, the pale white of a hand was immediately visible. John surged forward.
"That's far enough!" a voice boomed, rattling the earth beneath John's feet. John halted, looking around for the voice.
"Who's there?"
In response to his question, a clump of tendrils wrapped themselves together. Like tar, they oozed into each other until they were another mass, although smaller than the large one on the hill. The mass undulated and shifted until it had a human-like form. The head was formless save for a cavity where a gaping mouth formed.
"This is my domain, and you are trespassing."
John didn't bother answering that charge. Instead, he turned the Lantern's light on the hand sticking out of the goop. A little of the goop retreated in the light, revealing a bit more of the wrist.
"Is that the Queen's body?" he asked. As he looked, he saw another lantern, just like the one he was holding, broken at the bottom of the goopy mass.
"Yes, the elven Queen." There was smug glee in the voice now. "She has fed me for a long time."
More cautiously now, John again approached the hand sticking out of the inky mass. It looked perfectly normal—no sign of decay or anything. John put the Lantern down, keeping his sword ready. He reached out to grasp the hand. It wasn't cold as he expected, although not warm either. When he moved his hand, he thought he felt a slight flutter of the fingers he was holding.
He whirled around at the human-shaped mass. "She's still alive?"
"Alive, dead, undead, all alike to me. She feeds me all the same."
John turned to find the fake trees were moving closer, blocking off his avenues for escape.
Snatching up the Lantern, John took on a defensive pose. "You will free her."
The laugh that reverberated through the cavern made John's skin crawl. "You will fight me for her, will you? You cannot hope to survive."
The tendrils around him sharpened into blades at the end, poised to strike. They hung in the air all around, the threat clear. John's shoulders slumped. The creature—or whatever it was—was correct. He was in over his head here.
Dropping the sword, he said, "No. I didn't come to fight."
"You came to die, then?" The words were mocking.
Standing erect, John said, "I came to make a bargain."
The tendrils heading his way paused. "A bargain? What have you to offer that is of interest to me?"
"My life."
The creature laughed again, but it wasn't quite so cutting. "I have a queen to sup on. What are you compared to that? A mere human?"
It said the last bit with a sneer.
"I am the husband of Nuada Silverlance of the elves. My marriage was sanctioned by an elven god."
The creature paused, and then said in apparent puzzlement, "Yes, you have been touched by magic." The sneering tone returned, "But that is nothing compared to the magic of a queen."
"A magic that must be near exhausted if you've had her here this whole time," John guessed. "Whatever magic I have, whatever life-energy I have, must be more than whatever you're still draining from her. It's a fair bargain."
The creature seemed to think about that. "You may be right."
John's heart sunk, as that was confirmation that the Queen must be in a bad way. Still, this was clearly the way forward. One human, even married to an elven prince, could not do any real good for the people of Bethmoora or ensure peace with the rest of humanity.
But the Queen could do so much good. She had been here. She likely understood this place better than John ever would, and she had sided with humanity in the old debates about Aiglin. She was what her people needed. She was what Nuada needed.
There was no choice. "Then do we have a bargain? Release the Queen, and you can have me instead."
The creature's chuckle was cold with menace. "So be it. Touch me, and trade a life for a life."
The crystal-trees stopped moving forward but the tendrils created a wall around the area. John held firm to the Lantern as he put his hand to the inky mass. It was sticky and gooey and gross, holding him fast.
John slowly pushed his arm up to the elbow, and then waited to see what would happen. He brought the Lantern up, ready to use it in whatever way he could if the creature went back on its word.
But, as John had thought, this was a magic creature and thus a bargain made in words was not one easily broken. The gooey tar surrounding the Queen's hand peeled back to reveal her elbow.
"I'm sorry, Nuada," John whispered softly, and then continued to enter the gooey mass.
***
If Nuada had wings, he could not have traveled as fast he did now. Using his magic, he had transported himself through the long hallway until magical resistance made it too dangerous. His feet were just as quick, and he raced after his lost husband, feeling a countdown ticking down in his head.
To what, he did not know. He just knew he had to stop it.
When he came upon the forest of blackened trees, he could see the light from the Lantern in the distance. John had a good head-start, but Nuada had the speed of elven feet and keen elven eyes to see in the dark.
The imposter trees sought to impede him, their dagger-sharp branches snapping out to try to skewer him. They uprooted themselves in their attempt to stop him, but that was a slow process and he could easily outrun or dodge them.
Nuada let nothing deter him, running straight for his husband.
What he found stopped him cold. He did not know what the thing was that existed upon the hill but it emanated a vile, twisted darkness. This thing was unnatural and evil. His impulse to destroy it was one he intended to indulge.
The light of the Lantern drew his eyes. He was stunned to see a limp elven body spilling out of the inky mass, held only by the wrist of one hand.
Beside it, the Lantern was held by a hand. The rest of the body was subsumed in the inky hulk. Nuada knew it was John's, and he raced forward.
"Stop, Prince!" a voice commanded. Nuada did not stop, proceeding to chop at the surrounding tendrils as he tried to get to his husband. "You have no business here. The bargain was freely struck."
Expertly slicing through the inky substance, Nuada tried to make an opening for himself. "I am not bound by whatever bargain my husband has made, and I would not believe it if you said my mother bargained with you. She would know better."
That the limp elven body was his mother's was clear to Nuada, but he couldn't spare grief to see her like that. He would save his husband, and then retrieve her body for a proper burial. He had to defeat this creature first before he could do anything.
The odds weren't good though. The creature, whatever it was, had infected the entire vast area, and was calling forth all of its might to stop Nuada. It was malleable, able to turn itself into almost any form. When Nuada cut off a piece, it dried and shattered, useless. But there was so much of the thing, and he had no idea where its heart was. Probably where the Queen and John were trapped, and Nuada just couldn't get close.
Suddenly, movement at the hulk of the creature caught Nuada's attention. He was stunned to see the body he had thought dead move. The Queen got her feet under her, grabbing her trapped wrist and yanking as hard as she could.
Freed abruptly, she tumbled away. She was weak, Nuada could see, but she was alive. Nuada couldn't afford to feel what that meant to him, knowing it would overwhelm him. He couldn't afford that. Now, he had two people he loved in need of rescue.
Pushing himself even harder, he hacked away at the inky creature with everything he had. Still, it wasn't enough.
"Nuada, behind you!"
The warning was just in time. Nuada turned to look, and in doing so the branch of a suddenly too-close tree just missed him. He cut off the branch, and then looked to see his mother.
Amazingly, Queen Boann was on her feet. More than that, she had taken up the sword John had dropped and had joined Nuada in cutting the inky hulk to pieces.
Menacing laughter echoed all around them. "Yes, tire yourself out. Keep cutting. They are but pinpricks to me. My new supper already renews me. A thousand years of siphoning the Queen's power—I am unstoppable."
Nuada hated to admit it, but the creature might be right. They weren't making any progress. More and more of the outlying trees the creature had left lying about were joining the already impressive mass. John was still stubbornly holding onto the Lantern, but it was only a matter of time before he was completely consumed.
Back-to-back with his mother, both fighting as hard as they could, Nuada wondered if this was where it would end.
Suddenly, the light of the Lantern was gone. Nuada looked, his night eyes seeing the edge of the Lantern as it was pulled into the inky hulk.
A moment later, a ghastly scream howled around them. It was so sharp and piercing that both Nuada and his mother fell to their knees, covering their ears.
All at once, the entire main hulk burst into flames, which raced along the tendrils until every inky part everywhere was engulfed.
"John!" Nuada raced toward the tree, or tried to.
Catching him, Boann said, "Wait."
Nuada watched in horror. "I have to save him."
"It's soul-fire. He may survive."
"Soul-fire can still burn." Nuada knew that was why his mother restrained him.
He could only watch helplessly as the creature burned all around him, bringing light to even the Shadows lingering in the ceiling of the cavern.
The fire burned hot but quickly, and soon there were only smoldering embers. John lay among them. Considering he had been in the heart of the blaze, he was in remarkably good shape. He only looked a little singed, a few minor burns on his exposed skin, but his clothing was sooty rather than burned.
But Nuada knew that didn't matter. Soul-fire burned the soul. John had been in the heart of that creature. Who knew what damage it had done? John wasn't an elf like Nuada's mother. He had no protection against that kind of attack.
"John?" Nuada fell to his knees beside his husband.
Weakly, John looked at him. "Nuada."
"You must hold on. We will get you help." Nuada gently pulled John into his arms.
"We both know there's no help for this." John's words were slow and faint, clearly taking effort. He gestured to Nuada's arm, and Nuada could see the mark had faded to almost nothing.
"No, I cannot lose you. I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of it. I didn't mean it," Nuada said. This was his last chance to make things right, and it was more hollow and empty than a human could ever be.
"It's better this way," John whispered, and Nuada wasn't sure his husband had even heard him. "It's all too fragile, basing a kingdom on one marriage. But if I die, you can't say the marriage failed. Your people get their home, and you . . . you get your freedom."
"I don't want my freedom! I am not chained to you. I choose you." Nuada pressed his forehead to John's, and whispered, "Please, it cannot end this way."
But John had closed his eyes, his chest barely moving as he used up the last of his breaths. Too late did Nuada see the gift he had squandered. It was all too late.
"Nuada, come!" Boann squatted on the other side of John. "If we are to save him, we must hurry."
"What can we possibly do?" Nuada asked, hugging John to him.
"After all this time, do you still doubt?" she asked, sounding halfway between exasperated and pitying. She reached out and gently stroked John's hair, much as she had done for Nuada when he was young. "Do you not understand what this place is? What we have accomplished?"
Nuada did not understand. But when his mother again commanded him to rise, he could do nothing but follow. If there was hope for John, he would do anything.
Boann set a quick pace, racing through the cavern with a sure-footedness that made Nuada think she knew exactly where she was going.
Moving away from the cooling embers, the world became too dark to see. Boann did not break stride, and Nuada kept his senses trained on her. His body was tired, and John was not light. It was hard to keep up, but Nuada did not stumble.
Slowly, the world around them began to lighten. A gentle breeze stirred Nuada's hair, bringing with it a pleasingly fresh scent.
"Hurry. We are almost there," Boann called. She had outdistanced Nuada, and her sudden eagerness made her increase her stride further.
As the light grew by shades, Nuada realized there were no longer cave walls surrounding him, but proper trees. Ancient, old fellows. Their branches intertwined above Nuada, creating a different kind of tunnel, but through them Nuada thought he glimpsed sky.
That should be impossible. They were still deep underground, and only going deeper. But, as they continued on, Nuada could see the stars peeking out between the tree limbs. The light grew stronger, and he could no longer deny they were in the middle of a very old forest.
Boann suddenly stopped. When Nuada caught up, he could see why. She stood at the top of a ridge, and before them was stretched out a plain that seemed to go on forever. Mountains bracketed it on the right, and a forest stretched out on the left. Right in the middle of it was a tree so massive that it reached up to touch the sky.
"Aiglin." Nuada looked to see tears in his mother's eyes.
"He's too far away to help John," Nuada said, feeling his heart sink. He could no more contemplate Aiglin's return than his mother's, needing to focus on the faint hope that somehow they could save John.
Shaking her head, Boann offered a gentle smile. "Have you forgotten everything? Look around you."
Instead of letting him do that, she pulled him to the left into the trees. It wasn't long before he realized what she was leading him to.
Aiglin reached to the heavens, but his reach was long. His branches spread out in all directions, some so long and tangled that they reached back to the earth. One such crooked branch—easily bigger than the Royal Palace—had fallen to earth in the heart of this forest.
Flowers adorned the giant limb, with smaller branches splitting off in different directions. The flowers glowed, and Boann took Nuada to the largest of them. "Aiglin has provided, as I knew he would. He would not have called if there was no hope. But, hurry, we have no time."
At their approach, one of the giant petals dropped down, making a ramp to let them enter into the heart of the flower. The glow was like soft sunshine, and Nuada could feel the energy of it.
"What do we do?"
Boann gestured, and said, "Look."
A flower on the end of a vine slithered close to them. It bloomed in the light of the much larger flower, and Nuada could see it held a dagger.
Nuada looked questioningly at his mother, who made an encouraging gesture. Gently, Nuada set John down in the heart of the flower and then reached for the dagger.
Or, he tried to.
When he made to grasp it, his fingers slipped right through it. A strange energy passed into him, vibrating him at the level of his soul.
Understanding what this was, Nuada held onto that sensation. This time, when he reached for the dagger, he did not pick it up with his physical body. Instead, he used his soul to hold on.
"A soul-dagger?" He looked to his mother, startled to see how pale her spirit was.
Before he could say anything of that, she waved a hand towards John and said, "See with new sight, my son."
Nuada's breath caught when he looked at his husband. Now, he saw John with his third eye fully open. John's soul was bleeding, burned and shredded. The damage was so extensive; Nuada had no idea how he could possibly heal him.
"Not even Aiglin could mend this," he said softly.
"He doesn't need to. He's given you everything you need to save your husband," Boann said. "What are you willing to sacrifice for him?"
"Anything. Everything."
"Then do that." She moved to kneel on the other side of the flower, clearly leaving it to Nuada to figure out.
Nuada frowned, looking between the dagger and John. Why a dagger? Surely the nectar of Aiglin would be a purer healing tonic than any medicine or potion of humans or elves. This dagger could not harm flesh but it could cut a soul. How was that useful?
Nuada wasn't sure what his mother meant for him to do, and it seemed so hopeless to him. What had Nuada to give? What could heal such hurt?
With his free hand, Nuada reached out to stroke John's cheek. He still looked beautiful, no matter what damage was done. The ache of losing John bloomed in Nuada's chest, sharp and painful. This was a pain he would carry for the rest of his life. He knew that even as John was wounded, so was he.
The dagger pulsed again, and suddenly Nuada realized what he was supposed to do.
With one last touch to John's face, Nuada placed both hands upon the dagger and plunged it into his heart. It wasn't painful the way a dagger burying itself into his chest should feel were it an ordinary weapon. Instead, it felt like the soul-dagger set off the pain Nuada was already feeling, sharpening it and highlighting it so that Nuada knew the full extent of what he suffered.
Twisting the knife, he cut into his grief, embracing the pain this caused. Slowly, he withdrew the knife, and there was a wound to his soul that remained. It blazed to his third eye, spilling out like blood but glowing bright.
Still holding the dagger in one hand, Nuada bathed his other hand in the bright substance of his soul. When he had a handful, he transferred it to the deepest of John's wounds—the one over his heart, the one that might have been there before John ever passed beyond the Shadow Wall.
Nuada's soul slid into John, but that wasn't enough. Setting aside the dagger, Nuada could no longer see what damage they were both suffering. It didn't matter. Gently, he gathered John into his arms.
"I need you to hear me, John," Nuada said softly. "I'm more sorry than you can know for the hurt I have caused you. All I want is the chance to prove it—to spend the rest of our days showing you how much I want you with me. Please forgive me. Come back to me. Fight for me, John. Fight."
There was no reaction from John. Disheartened, Nuada brushed a kiss against his lips, and again pressed his forehead to John's. Inside, he felt the absence of the wall he'd erected to protect himself—the wall keeping John from feeling whatever was possible for a human to feel in an elven bond. Nuada had cut away the wall when he'd cut into his heart, and he no longer tried to hide his feelings.
A soft hitch of breath drew Nuada's attention. He looked at John, and saw the color returning to his cheeks. His chest expanded with a breath and then another, each deeper and fuller than before until he was breathing normally again. John's eyes fluttered, and then finally opened.
"John? Are you alright?"
Frowning, John needed a moment before he muttered, "No, I'm not alright. I feel like roadkill."
Nuada could feel the truth behind John's words through their bond. John felt awful, yes, but it was not the life-threatening awful he'd felt when he'd burned in the heart of the soul-fire. He was getting stronger too.
Nuada's breath caught, and he swallowed back the emotion threatening to rise up in his throat. He could see now that John was mending. Nuada wasn't going to lose his husband. He didn't deserve it, but he would get his second chance after all.
"You do look horrible," Nuada said with a faint smile.
"Thanks a lot." John shot him a dirty look, but there was no heat behind it.
With Nuada's help, John sat up and looked around. He immediately spotted Boann, who was patiently waiting for them.
"You're here!" John said. "Are you okay?"
Seeing she had their attention, Boann slid closer and gestured towards John's arm.
"She wants you to give her your hand," Nuada said.
Awkward and clearly confused, John offered his hand. He did so as if to offer a handshake, but Boann grabbed his wrist to correct him. Palm to palm, she listened to his thoughts.
Pressed so close to John, Nuada could hear her probing through their bond. He looked at her in turn, and he was grieved to see that spending millennia in an evil toxic mess had left its mark on her.
But already her inner strength shone through. She soaked up Aiglin's energy, and Nuada knew it would be no time at all before her power was fully restored. Doubtless, long before John had healed.
Withdrawing her hand, Boann said in English, "Thank you, John Myers. You have done an immeasurable good this day."
"Oh, it wasn't-"
Boann did not let him refuse her gratitude. Pressing a finger to his lips, she said sternly, "You do not contradict a queen."
John clearly had no idea how to respond to that, and Nuada smiled. More gently, Boann said, "You are worthy of our admiration. You have freed me from an endless imprisonment and destroyed an evil so ancient that there is no name for it. You have returned Aiglin to his people, and in time, there will be peace between your kind and ours because of your actions this day."
Glancing at Nuada, Boann smiled and said, "You have also broken through my son's walls and earned his love. What you have done is extraordinary."
John seemed to struggle with what to respond to in her words, but eventually he turned to Nuada and said, "You love me?"
"Yes. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it," Nuada said. "If you would have me, I would ask you to stay."
Nuada could feel that John's mind was reeling. It shouldn't be surprising that John was taken aback by Nuada's admission. It was certainly an about-face from their recent fight.
There weren't words to adequately express how sorry Nuada was for the pain he'd caused, and there wasn't time to explain why he'd said what he did or to prove that he was serious and would not do it again.
He sought out the bond between them. All of John was open to him. He could feel John's emotions, the confusion and hesitance. But there was more. Nuada realized that John was starting to pick up on Nuada's side of things. He saw the moment when John began to realize what it was.
"You . . . you really do love me." There was wonder in John's voice.
"I do."
At this admission, Nuada could feel John buffeted by emotions in a sudden tumult. It was a long moment before John said quietly, "I would like to stay."
It was in that moment that Nuada felt John's love for him. His love was a fragile, guarded thing. John's acknowledgment of it was shaky at best.
But it was there, and it took Nuada's breath away. Unable to help himself, he cupped John's head and pressed a soft kiss to John's lips. "Then stay."
John looked amazed and bewildered. Nuada could feel that too much was happening too fast. He was still recovering from almost dying and now the man he thought hated him actually loved him, and John was just realizing that his own feelings ran much deeper than he'd been prepared to admit. It was all too much.
Knowing that John needed a moment, Nuada finally turned his attention to his mother. She was watching them with a quiet, tender smile. It hit Nuada in that moment that she was there. After a thousand years of thinking her gone, she was there. "I thought you were dead. We all did."
"Yes, I know." Her smile turned rueful. "I suppose that was for the best. There was no point in anyone following me. Only a human could free me, and anyone else would simply have shared my fate."
"What happened? How did you become trapped?" Nuada asked. In the circle of his arms, John also looked interested and grateful for the reprieve from dealing with his own feelings.
Boann affected an elegant shrug. "It's a long story, but not one that's important now." She stood up and looked through the foliage where Aiglin could be seen in the distance. "Aiglin is all that matters now. After all this time, we have finally returned to him. There he is."
John craned his neck to see, but the view was obscured from the heart of the flower. Gently, Nuada helped him to his feet. With an arm wrapped around his husband and his cheek pressed against John's soft hair, they both looked at Aiglin in the distance.
"Wow."
Nuada smiled at John's disbelieving tone. They all stood there soaking up Aiglin returned. Nuada could feel his power emanating from the flower they stood in. It was stronger than he remembered. Gentle strength.
"It was here the whole time?" John asked. He then looked around. "Where are we?"
Turning, Boann answered, "This is Aiglin's Realm. I cannot say if he has been here the whole time, but he is here now, and he has opened a path for us to once again shelter under his leaves."
"And Bethmoora?" John frowned. "Everyone just got settled in there. Will they all move?"
"Not all of them," Boann said. "Bethmoora is the gateway city. It protects the path to Aiglin— a path that could only be found by reclaiming the Nightlands and destroying the ancient evil blocking the way. Only by working together—elf and human both—could that be accomplished. Aiglin chose this course on purpose. He wants us to be together."
She smiled at John. "Bethmoora is not a kingdom for magical beings alone, any more than Aiglin is. Where there is one human, there will be more. Your friends will come looking for you eventually, if only to make sure you are alright. They will be curious and will seek Aiglin too. Word will spread, and more will seek him. Some will stay in Bethmoora and some will stay here. Once more, we shall live beside each other. With your marriage, you will set an example of how to do that in peace."
She looked back at Aiglin, as if her eyes were irresistibly drawn that way. "The old hurts will be mended. This time, we will get it right."
Boann said no more, her thoughts clearly centered on Aiglin in the distance. They all fell silent, contemplating the tree. Nuada soaked up the moment, holding John close.
Their quiet was interrupted when John suddenly startled. He looked at his feet, and Nuada could see a vine had slipped around his ankle. It seemed to be tugging at him.
John leaned down to untangle himself from the vine. The moment he touched it, the vine lit up brighter than the flower they were standing in. Rapidly, a new flower grew at the end of the vine. It was three times bigger than the one that had held the soul-dagger, and it remained closed.
"Go on," Boann encouraged. "Aiglin has a gift for you."
John frowned at her as he hesitantly reached out to the closed flower. At his touch, the flower bloomed in a burst of sunlight. Inside, there was a giant seed.
When she saw it, Boann gasped.
"What is it?" John asked. He had been about to reach out to the seed, but paused at her reaction.
Smiling, Boann shook her head. "We have lingered here too long. We must return to tell the others what has happened. Take the seed, John. You will have need of it."
She did not wait to see if he did that, but walked away, leaving them alone in the flower.
"Was that weird?" John asked.
Nuada answered with a shrug. His heart swelled inside of him, though. He was still getting used to having his mother back, but this was so like her. He hadn't realized until this moment how much he missed it— and how much he could look forward to more of the same now that she was back.
"Go on, John. A gift from Aiglin is no small thing."
John stretched out his hand toward the seed, but then paused before touching it. Instead, he turned to Nuada and reached out to him.
Curious, Nuada took his hand. The connection returned between them at the contact. Nuada could feel John's desire to share this moment with him, which touched Nuada more than words could say.
He felt the power in the seed when John finally touched it.
You have done well, John.
The voice was different than the one John had heard on their wedding day, but Nuada knew it. It was the same voice he had heard deliver the Prophecy of Bethmoora so long ago. It was Aiglin.
The seed glowed bright, and there was a rush of emotion and information that passed to John from it. Too much for John to hold onto, but Nuada knew that anything Aiglin said would settle into John's bones to come to life when he most needed it.
Right now, the only thing John caught was, "You gave me your heart."
"Yes." Nuada smiled.
John huffed, as if Nuada hadn't understood. "No, you literally gave me your heart."
They both glanced at where Nuada had dropped the soul-dagger. "So, I did."
John shook his head, muttering, "Elves are so bizarre."
He would have turned back to the seed, but Nuada stopped him. Nuada could feel the warmth of emotion from John, the tangled joy and incredulity that Nuada's actions engendered in him. Nuada's smile softened, and he couldn't help himself. He kissed John again.
John kissed back. His emotions were everywhere, but his desire was clear. He wanted to be with Nuada. Nuada wanted the same.
In that moment, there were no more doubts about what the future held for their marriage. Strange as it seemed, the loved each other, and they both knew that they would weather all the challenges ahead. Together.
***
With an arm over Nuada's shoulder, John trudged down the long corridor. He was holding the giant seed in his free arm. Much as the lamps had lit themselves as John had walked along into the corridor, now a wall of vines was growing apace with them. Flowers bloomed, some giving off light and some perfume. When they had walked back over the empty space the ancient evil had dwelled in, already Aiglin was reclaiming the space. Real trees were beginning to grow, and a carpet of grass covered anything that wasn't stone.
The journey back felt twice as long as the journey in. John glanced over at the Queen. He could tell she was anxious to return to everyone, but she had refused their offer to go on ahead.
Nuada would be happy to carry him, John knew, but John didn't want that. He felt vulnerable enough right now.
It was weird. He could feel Nuada now. He knew that what he was getting was a pale imitation of what Nuada got on his end, but that was more than enough for John. It was easier now. He could tell Nuada was sincere in loving him, and John was blown away. Only a day ago—was it only a day? —their bitter fight had convinced John that their marriage was doomed.
They were going to have to work on their communication, John could see, but being able to share feelings and the occasional thought would help tremendously with that.
It would take quite a bit of getting used to for John—all of this would—but they had time. John was carrying a part of Nuada's soul inside him now. He wasn't sure how exactly, but surely something like that would change a man.
It was too much to think about now. John was grateful when the corridor ended, and they were finally back in the cavern.
John was surprised to find everyone there to greet them. It was their wedding all over again. Magical creatures had found places on all the walls. The King and Nuala were standing with the Butcher Guards and the lords and advisors of court. Everyone was talking or hooting or snarling or whatever noise was natural to them.
But a hush fell over the crowd in a wave when the three of them finally emerged from the corridor. John could see the stunned expression on every face as the Queen boldly strode out before everyone.
"Behold, I am returned from shadow, thanks to the young human my son has wed," she said. Somehow, she was able to project her voice so that all could hear her words without yelling. "The darkness that lingered here is vanquished forevermore, and a place for hearts tired and hurting has taken its place. Beyond this point is Aiglin's Realm. All who would esteem him are welcome."
She looked at John expectantly. Hesitant, and yet knowing what she wanted, John let go of Nuada and walked forward. He could feel every eye on him as he slowly made his way to the great stone wall. The seed in his arm was vibrating, and when John let it go into the dirt, it dove in like it was a boat in water.
A handful of seconds passed, and then a spout erupted from the very center of the circle. It grew rapidly, towering over everyone in no more than a minute. John backed up as it kept expanding. As huge as the circle was, the trunk of the tree grew to fill it out. Indeed, the stone broke in a few places as the tree finally settled into its girth.
But it kept growing tall. John thought it must be the new connection to Nuada that made him sure that the branches of the tree were burrowing into the very rock about their heads and growing into an entire forest on the surface.
"It's Aiglin," someone said nearby.
"No, it's a seed of Aiglin," Queen Boann corrected. "Aiglin himself is waiting beyond, but he would not have even those here feel abandoned. We shall all feel his power."
John jumped as stone cracked and shattered further out into the cavern. A torrent of water broke through. It would take several days, but again, John just knew that it would flood the cavern. The Royal Palace would be a literal island now, floating in a huge underground lake.
The water wasn't the only change. Plants began to grow out of the walls, some of which birthed Elementals. The colossal plant-gods walked down into the cavern until even these giants were lost from sight.
But their work was still seen. Enormous trees—small in comparison to the great behemoth before them—began to grow up, filling the void of the cavern. Their branches seemed to hold up the ceiling, and more plants grew on the stone there. They burrowed up, pulling sunlight down into this dark world.
John could feel the intense satisfaction radiating from Nuada. This was how it should be. It was what had been missing, what had been wrong with Bethmoora. The very air was refreshed. The stately houses in the town nearest them were made even more beautiful by the growth of nature all around them.
"My people!" Queen Boann said when the initial wonder and amazement had drained away. "We are here now at the fulfillment of Aiglin's prophecy. The Promise of Bethmoora is a Promise no more, but a reality."
A great cheer rose up. It was not the celebratory joy John had seen on his wedding day. There was something deeper running through the crowd. They were happy, yes, but shaken too. John could see tears on the faces of some of the elves standing around him. Even with the small window John was getting into Nuada's mind, John didn't think he could truly understand what it meant to these people to have Aiglin returned to them.
Some of them practically raced down the hallway John had just come from. Nuada put John's arm over his shoulder again and helped him over to where Balor and Nuala were waiting, and out of the way of the crowd.
"Nuada. John." Nuala met them as they came. "I can't believe . . . How did you . . . Mother is alive?"
The three of them watched Balor and Boann greet each other a few feet away. Balor looked just as shocked as everyone else.
"I share your surprise," Nuada said. "To think she's been here all this time and I-"
"Hey!" John elbowed Nuada in the side. "None of that. This is a happy day. I almost died. I don't want any more drama today."
Nuada looked incredulously at John, and then shook his head. John saw that faint smile of his, though.
"Yes, indeed," Nuala said. "This is the best of days. I can't believe you have done all of this. How did you know to go?"
John glanced at Nuada. "That's a bit of a sore subject, actually. It's enough it all turned out alright."
"Indeed," Queen Boann said. She and Balor approached them, their fingers intertwined. "It is a new day. A new start. For everyone."
King Balor said something in elvish. John was getting a bit better at picking out a few words—and his connection to Nuada helped a bit—but he still needed Nuala to translate.
"The King says he owes you the greatest of debts, one he could never repay."
John knew the King meant well, but he scowled. Sharply, he said to the King, "Would you owe a debt to Nuada if he had rescued your wife on his own?" The King and Nuala were clearly taken aback at John's reply. John assumed the answer, and kept going. "No? Because he's your son and she's your wife. Of course, he'd go rescue her. Well, I'm family too, aren't I? Then you don't owe me anything either."
It was a challenge. John didn't understand Court politics, but he had had enough these last few months to know he was never going to like them. It was fine for a handful of hours while Court was being held, but John was tired of the formal way his husband's family acted.
He was ready to take whatever blowback he got for that stance. Surprisingly, Balor smiled. He spoke slowly and with great care, as if speaking the language was as unfamiliar to him as elvish was to John. "You are right, my son. It was a blessed day when you joined our family. We are much enriched for your presence."
John noted the effort the King made on his behalf to speak John's language. He was touched and a little embarrassed by the praise.
"You make our family complete," the Queen said. Only now did John realize she had learned his language just by touching his hand. "We are happy to have you here."
"Yes," Nuada said, "We are happy."
Nuada wrapped an arm around John's middle, pulling him close. Tired, John leaned on his strength. As one, they all looked out over the rapidly changing landscape. Someday, humans would share this home with magical beings. John knew that between his husband and him, they would be ready when that day came.
The End