The Duty of a Queen Read online

  The Duty of a Queen

  Dara Tulen

  Copyright 2013 ©Dara Tulen

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organisations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  The Duty of a Queen

  For Astrid of the Grey Stones, her island was her world. The only child of King Iain, she was his heir, and as such was trained in the arts of combat, diplomacy and strategy, all of which she was told she would need to protect her people. What none had foreseen was that it would require far more than those three to save the People of the Grey Stones.

  With her sunset-orange curls and smoky gray eyes, Astrid was the very image of her beloved mother, the queen who they said had been born of fire and ash. The princess was as wise, kind and strong as she was beautiful and many men wished to win her hand, though only one had ever held her favor. Astrid had always believed that he would be the one she chose to be at her side forever, and if things had remained the same, perhaps he would have been. But, in the summer of her nineteenth year, the invaders came.

  The People fought with all they had, the war raging through the heat of the summer and into the cold of winter. No family was left untouched. When the king was injured on the eastern shore a year after the war first began, Astrid intervened. As the first day of summer dawned, the princess approached the invaders with terms of surrender. The day of her birth would be the end of the war.

  And so it would be a marriage between the conquering prince and the heir of the People of the Grey Stones. She saw him that day, on the battlefield as he accepted the alliance. He was close to her age, maybe a few years older, and handsome, she supposed. He was tall, even more so than Astrid's lover who was the tallest of their people. With blue-black hair and eyes the blue of the field flowers, Prince Oliver's coloring was not like that of her Jonas who had eyes as black as coal and hair the color of wheat. The prince was, she had heard, an honorable and decent man, one whose company she would likely enjoy. Had it not been for Jonas, Astrid might have had a greater appreciation for the match. As it was, she did not balk at her duty. She could not place her heart above the good of her people.

  Jonas opened the door to his home before she even knocked. He had been waiting for her to return from the meeting. The wedding was to be at sundown the next night. The arrangements had been set into motion immediately after the alliance had been struck. Delays could be seen as an attempt to waver commitment. It could also allow the other side to change their mind. Astrid knew she could not allow that to happen. At first light, the preparations would begin and she would travel from the village to the shore where the ceremony would be conducted in the sight of her people and his, making the Isle of the Grey Stones a part of his empire.

  The weight of her sacrifice was heavy upon her as she stepped past Jonas without a word. She had spent many days and nights in this place, but she found herself looking around with new eyes. The main room looked the same as it always had. A roughly carved table and matching chairs in front of a low burning fire. The summer night was warm, but damp enough to need the flames. A bench that Jonas's father had made sat off to one side and a rug made of the pelt of a bear covered part of the wooden floor. She knew that there were two rooms off of this one, one where Jonas's parents had slept until the sleeping sickness had taken them both four summers ago. The other room was where Jonas and his five brothers and three sisters had grown up. The ones who had survived into adulthood had their own homes.

  “It is done?” Jonas broke the silence with a flat question.

  “It is.” Astrid turned to face him. He had known, of course, what she had intended to do.

  She had always thought of herself as a strong woman. She had not cried when her mother and baby brother had died fourteen winters ago. She had not shed a single tear when she had received her ma'sgi, the marks showing the start of her training, or the more elaborate and painful ka'sgi when she had completed it. Her resolve had been firm the night she had chosen Jonas as her deleon, the one who would make her a woman. She had shown the same resolve when she had made her decision to enter into a marriage contract with Prince Oliver. Why, then, did she find tears pricking at her eyes at the thought of this being her final night with Jonas?

  “I have a boon to ask, my princess.” There was no mocking in Jonas's address. Though she had never treated him as anything but her equal, he had always maintained deference for her station. He only used it, however, when he was serious about something.

  It nearly broke her heart to hear him speak so, but she would never dishonor him by refusing to acknowledge his request. If it was in her power to give him, she decided, she would do so.

  “Ask.” Her fingers flexed beneath her cloak, the only indication of her inner turmoil.

  “Your prince will take you back to his land to show his people their new queen.”

  She nodded. “Yes.” Her heart gave a twist. As a child, she had once dreamed of traveling to far off lands, but now that she had gotten her wish, she found herself willing to trade it to stay among her people, to stay with him. “We set sail for his land after the ceremony is completed.”

  A pained expression crossed Jonas's face, but disappeared quickly. He understood the necessity of what had been done. He loved her, she knew, but he was a warrior first, one of the elite who had earned the intricate markings of the da'na'sgi. “This is my request, my princess. I wish to journey to your new land as a part of your court, to guard and protect you.”

  “Jonas.” Her voice nearly broke. She could not grant him this. She could not take him with her.

  He knew her well and the knowledge showed in his eyes. He went down on a knee. “My princess, I pledge to you, on the honor of my family, once you are wed, I will never look upon you as naught but my queen. I ask only that I not be parted from you. I can bear to never touch you again, but I cannot live without knowing of your well-being. Allow me to serve you.”

  Astrid took a step forward, her fingers deftly working to unfasten the ties on her cloak. She knew what she was about to say was not the wisest decision, but she had been strong for so long, her resolve was weakened by what she was going to do. If she had Jonas with her, she could continue to be strong. Even if she could not touch him, to know he was there would be enough.

  She looked down at him and took his face between her hands. That familiar face that she had known for so many years. She could not lose him, though if he asked, she would let him go. “Jonas, as my beloved, I should not agree to this, but as your princess and your future queen, I will gladly grant you, my greatest warrior, a place on my court as my personal guard.”

  She saw the look of relief on his face a moment before she took his mouth with hers. His arms slid under her cloak and she felt his lips twitch with surprise as his hands moved across bare skin. She moved with him as he stood, not wanting to part from him one moment. He pulled her to him, the heat of his body blazing through his thin tunic and trousers, and she could feel him hardening against her hip. Desire flared in her belly and she parted his lips with her tongue. He made a sound like a growl and walked them back until she felt the table against her back.

  Jonas lifted her then, setting her on
the edge of the table so that they were near the same height. He pushed her cloak from her shoulders, letting his hands trail down over her arms, tracing the familiar patterns of her ma'sgi. She tilted her head back as his mouth broke from hers and began to move over her jaw and down her throat. The muscles in his shoulders bunched under her hands, and she could feel his tension as he kissed his way down her neck. She knew what he wanted, and a part of her wanted it too. Among the People of the Grey Stones, it was customary to mark their lovers' bodies with mouths and nails during moments of passion. The marks meant many things. Skill in pleasure. A mutual possessiveness. Reminders for lovers being parted.

  Astrid's heart ached as Jonas restrained himself. She had been honest with the prince regarding her people's view of the relations between men and women, but to arrive at her marriage bed with her body bearing the evidence of another's passion would be a great dishonor. She tugged at Jonas's tunic, suddenly eager to feel his bare skin beneath her hands. He may not be able to mark her, but she would leave him with the signs of her love.

  His tunic fell to the floor as his hands moved over her full breasts, his mouth worshipping at her soft flesh. His tongue circled the pale brown nipple and Astrid dug her nails into his shoulders. She felt him gasp, then take the sensitive flesh between his lips. Her head fell back, a moan escaping her lips as desire flared inside of her. He suckled at her breasts, each pull of his mouth triggering a new wave of fire licking across every inch of her body.

  Jonas's hands slid down over her sides to her hips and he pulled her to the edge of the table. She lifted her head, looking down at him as went to his knees again. This time, there was no subjugation in his eyes, only heat. He took his time, running his hands over her legs, up to her thighs. He placed light kisses up the insides of her thighs, avoiding the place she wanted his mouth the most. When he finally stopped teasing, her entire body was tense with anticipation. The first pass of his tongue made her cry out. Her back arched as he pressed his mouth against her, his tongue slowly and thoroughly kissing her most private place. The wave of pleasure made her fall back and only his hands on her hips kept her in place. She writhed as his mouth took her high again and again, leaving her body quivering and tingling, aching for more.

  “Jonas, my love,” she gasped.

  He stood then and lifted her into his arms. As he lowered her to the rug, the bearskin rubbed against her sensitive skin, making her whimper. She parted her legs, and he settled above her. As he entered her, she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him into her, held him against her. She never felt so complete as she did when he was inside her. Their bodies moved together, sweat slicked skin glistening in the flickering firelight. As it always was when they were together, the duties and burdens of their stations faded away, leaving only them and the oldest of dances.

  She kept her promise to herself, her mouth sucking on his skin until the flesh darkened, her teeth nipping at his throat and shoulders, her nails raking over his da'na'sgi until his body shuddered with the effort to continue to drive within her. He took her nipple in his mouth and began to suck, letting the pressure build until she was stretched taut, desperate for her release. He bit down and a scream ripped from her throat as lightning struck her. He held her as her body went rigid, his hips moving ever so slightly to draw out her pleasure. Just as it became too much, he withdrew from her and she forced her eyes open. His gaze was on her face as he moved his hand over himself, finishing his own release. His seed spilled over his hand as her name fell from his lips.

  They would come together more than once that night, she knew, but he would only ever end in his hand, her hand or her mouth. She could not risk becoming with a child that was not the prince's, no matter how much she longed to feel Jonas spend himself inside her, their bodies coming to that place of ecstasy together one final time.

  She awoke before the sun rose, but remained in Jonas's arms. They had fallen asleep facing each other and now she studied his face, free of worry in his slumber. She knew she would see him again, now that he would be accompanying her, but it would not be the same. She would not be able to watch him sleep, touch him. His body was as familiar to her as her own, and it would be forbidden to her once she left here. She knew the story of every mark.

  The thin white line that cut from his temple to his jaw had come from a raider's blade. He had been only ten winters old, too young to go with the men when they fought off the People of the Waters who came every few summers, but he had taken up the sword when a stray raider ventured inland to the village. The man had grabbed her, intending to take her as the People of the Waters had done to other women throughout history. Jonas had fought the man and killed him, but had been injured badly enough that the healer had feared he would lose his eye.

  The da'na'sgi that covered his back had been the last rite of passage for one committed to becoming the elite warriors who served alongside the king. He had been the youngest to ever begin the training, his voice still high. Still, he had not flinched when the first of the black marks had been given. He had completed his training faster than anyone in their history, his da'na'sgi completed on the sixteenth winter after his birth. She had received her ma'sgi the same day and they had borne their pain together, their eyes locked.

  On his right shoulder was a patch of white, slightly raised skin, the result of an arrow delivered by one of the invaders at the start of the war. She had taken it out and cleaned the wound herself. Jonas had been furious that she had cared for him before allowing the healer to tend to the cut on her back. She still had not seen it, but Jonas had traced it for her, telling her how it cut through her ka'sgi from her shoulder blade to the base of her ribs. If it had been deeper, no healer could have helped her.

  There were other scars with stories. Four circular burns on his stomach where raiders had tortured him before she had rescued him, the feat that had earned her the ka'sgi. Numerous small scars on his hands and wrists from his training. His were more numerous than hers, but they wore them all with pride. Three claw marks on his forearm from the bear on whose skin they now lay.

  His eyes opened but neither of them spoke. They would still speak and be near each other, but this was their true farewell, and they knew there were no words. She rested her hand on his cheek and he did the same to her, his thumb brushing against the corner of his mouth. They remained there until the first rays of daylight arrived.

  ***

  Astrid kept her eyes straight ahead as her father escorted her to the shore. Behind her were the People of the Grey Stones, all dressed in their very best. No matter their feelings about what she had done, they would not shed a tear and they would support this union. She was their princess, and they would honor her wishes. Even the one whose heart was hurting as much as her own.

  As they rounded the bend, she saw the ships that had brought the invaders to the island, the ones that would bear her and her chosen few away again. The prince's armies were on the ships, only a few lined the shore. She was unsure if this was a show of respect, that he was not flaunting the greater force that had conquered them, or if he was taunting her, reminding her that even these few would hold her to her promise.

  When her gaze came at last to rest upon Prince Oliver himself, she decided that he had made his decision out of respect. She had studied him when she had presented her terms, wise enough to know that though she would follow through no matter what, she needed to know what kind of man she would pledge herself to. Now, she saw the same man waiting for her. His bearing held not a trace of arrogance or malice. She did wonder why then he had come to the island, but the why was no longer important, only that her people would live and be treated well.

  He held out his hand to her as she approached and she saw that his pale eyes were warmer than she had expected. Her father placed her hand in the prince's and then stepped back. Astrid could see her father's pain and knew that it was only in part due to his injury. He had protested the union though he knew it was best for their people. His heart had alwa
ys been tender.

  Astrid had requested that the ceremony be done in the ways of her people, then in the prince's tradition, binding them by both people. She had been pleasantly surprised when he had agreed. Now, the Elder of the People moved to stand beside the man the prince had chosen to conduct his ritual. She allowed the words to flow over her, automatically answering as she had been taught. Prince Oliver followed her lead and responded in kind, his strange accent turning the words into something unfamiliar. The People of the Grey Stones and the invaders shared a common tongue, though they spoke with a different rhythm and pronunciation. When the first ceremony was complete, the prince's man began, and it was Astrid's turn to do as the prince had done. Her tongue wanted to trip over the words, but she stayed strong.

  Then it was finished and the prince was bending his head towards her. She braced herself for what was coming. His mouth was gentle on hers, his lips lingering only a moment before he straightened. Astrid blinked, the only reaction to her disbelief. No matter how honorable she had heard the prince was, she had not expected a kiss such as that. Marriage alliances were feared among her people, fueled by stories from the past where their women had been taken against their will, forced into displays of submission, not the least of which was the sealing kiss.

  Prince Oliver bowed slightly over her hand and then turned towards the people watching the ceremony. His voice rang out clear and strong, a leader's voice. “Bear your witness here, that Astrid, Princess of the Grey Stones has been taken as my wife. Our lands and our peoples are forever joined as she and I are joined. Our children will rule both my land and hers, two nations brought together through this union, with all of the privileges and responsibilities of both. You need never fear the raiders on the waters, as my ships are now yours. Here begins a new life for us all.”

  The prince's people cheered and, after a moment, the People of the Grey Stones did as well. A surge of pride filled her. Her people would not allow this to defeat them. They would honor her as their queen, just as they had always intended. It would not matter to them who shared her bed. She was their princess and they would be loyal to her, bowing a knee when she asked and ready to fight again should she so desire.