“Look, Siobhan, whatever is happening, I’ll handle it.” Aranhil said firmly. That hint of aggression was in his voice, not towards his wife, but more so at their circumstance. He was sure that Siobhan understood that, after all, by now, they had spent nearly a week and a half together. They had to. It was common for newly married couples to go on a honeymoon. Despite eloping off to a secret love temple to be branded to one another for life, Aranhil felt it was important that they held up to some sort of tradition.
Upon leaving the temple and staring at the permanent rune marked on their ring fingers, Aranhil had told Siobhan that they should head into the nearest town. Once there, find a nice inn, and enjoy life as a secretly married couple. They would go back home later, or at least back to the Voronwe’s summer home and tell their strict fathers what they had done then. They would do that together. That was the plan.
On the fourth day at the inn, there had been a knock on their door. The moment Aranhil had drearily open the door to see his mothers favorite sidhe servant/assassin, he knew he was in trouble. No, that they were in trouble. He had been handed a letter and he opened it, his throat was dry. There wasn’t much written on there. But there didn’t need to be a lot. The few words on the piece of paper spoke volumes to Aranhil.
The sidhe was accompanying them back home. Not to the summer home but to the main residence of the Voronwe family. Aranhil knew better than to argue. Despite probably being magically stronger than the sidhe, it was his mother’s favorite confidant for a reason. The sidhe was efficient, and had even gotten past his own father quite a few times. Aranhil couldn’t risk Siobhan getting hurt, and he tried to play the whole thing off.
He could show his wife anger, but not fear. He couldn’t let her see that anxiety nibbling away at his sanity and devouring his confidence. Aranhil didn’t mind being angry, even though he hated when he would accidentally snap at Siobhan. He had just been completely lost in his own head as they traveled back. This was one of the few times that Aranhil wished he possessed that analytical yet creative intellect so he could escape the gaze of the sidhe and bring Siobhan to safety.
When the trio arrived from their travels to their destination, even Aranhil himself had to admit that his home had never looked so uninviting. A backdrop of angry storm clouds mixed with a howling wind that prevented the sun from gracing the ground with it’s warmth made even the skeptical Aranhil Voronwe feel an ominous chill. He got off his horse and waited for Siobhan, holding her hand. His thumb brushed over the blue ribbon still tied to her ring finger.
The sidhe was behind the couple as they walked up the steps to the imposing door. Aranhil wanted to roll his eyes, like they would run away now. He couldn’t be certain, but he felt like he could feel his parent’s presence within the confines of the grand home. With a sigh to try and steel his nerves, Aranhil opened it and held it open for her. Leading her forward to view that grand central staircase. They had been alerted that their estranged son had arrived, and his parents were standing at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for him.
Olis Voronwe looked piss. Galatea Voronwe looked perturb. But there was a third. A third figure standing in between his parents.
