Chapter 14

14

H akon wiped the sweat from his brow, heart lighter than it had been in days. His beast was…if not settled, then at least quiet as it lay in wait. A few afternoons in Lady Aislinn's company had soothed his gnawing discontent and renewed his enthusiasm for work.

Not even Fearghas's grumbling could deflate his spirits. There was nothing for the head blacksmith to truly complain about, not when Hakon was inspired enough to complete his work and much of Fearghas's with time to spare.

Without so much sourness in his demeanor, Hakon had a better time at being friendly. He made a point to take his breaks outside and chat with the potters. Captain Aodhan stopped by more than once for a fitting of the new breastplate Hakon had offered to make, and several of his knights followed suit.

Looking around as Hakon measured and made charcoal marks on the metal, Captain Aodhan had remarked, "This is the cleanest I've ever seen the smithy."

Fearghas hmphed from his anvil.

"Oh, I figured it wasn't your doing, you old pack rat," the captain joked.

"Nothing wrong with the way things were," Fearghas growled back.

"No, there wasn't. And there's nothing wrong with this way, either."

The head blacksmith sunk into a moody silence. Captain Aodhan tossed Hakon a knowing look and settled in for his fitting.

Hakon had even made inroads with Hugh, the surly head cook. Repairing knife handles and sharpening the blades were a constant need, and for a few spare bones for Wülf, Hakon was happy to do it.

Inspired by their brilliant heiress, Hakon made himself useful, helpful. He earned his place at the table and added to nightly conversation where he could.

He wasn't sure Brigitt had forgiven him yet, although the other maids soon warmed to him again. Hakon tried to look each over, to appreciate their qualities, but his eye was inextricably drawn to the high table.

More than once, he caught the heiress's gaze. She smiled at him prettily, which only made his beast that much more determined. He wouldn't let himself think or say anything aloud, but the beast had made up its mind.

Pulling the beeswax from his ears, Hakon adjusted to noise once more.

Or would have, had there been any.

Looking around, he saw that Fearghas had stopped his own hammering to stare flabbergasted out the window. The pottery next door had fallen silent as well.

Hakon turned to the windows to see a great shadow taking up the bailey.

Stomach clenching, he hurried outside, not quite sure he believed his eyes.

In the middle of the bailey stood Bellarand, his black coat absorbing what sunlight filtered in from the overcast sky. On his back sat Allarion, his form hidden by that purple-black cloak, his silvery-white hair falling down his back in a starlit cascade.

As Hakon walked into the daylight, Allarion's gaze fell upon him, making the hairs on his arms rise.

"Good day, Hakon."

"Hullo, Allarion. What brings you to Dundúran?"

The nostrils of the fae's thin nose flared, and with a sweep of his cloak, Allarion dismounted. Although he was a hair shorter than Hakon, his ancient presence made him infinitely bigger, his magic soaking into every nook and cranny of the bailey.

"I've come to petition for the Scarborough estate. It seems missives go missing here, so I've come myself and don't plan to leave without seeing a Darrow." His lips thinned. "Perhaps I'd have better luck with the father."

"He isn't here. Won't be back until tomorrow." From what he understood, Liege Darrow was visiting several of his vassals in preparation for his journey south after Orek and Sorcha's wedding in just a few days.

"I'm prepared to wait. I've given the girl enough time."

Anger prickled along Hakon's neck. "Lady Aislinn promised she'd see to your petition. I'm sure there's good reason why she hasn't."

Nothing in the fae's visage or stance changed, but the air temperature in the bailey dropped. Gooseflesh rose along Hakon's arms.

"There had better be." He nodded at the castle steps. "Take me to her."

"No."

The denial surprised Hakon just as much as Allarion. They stared at each other for a long moment, before Bellarand huffed and threw his mane impatiently.

"No?" Allarion repeated. There was no threat in his voice, but Hakon felt the danger skitter up his spine.

"No. Not until your temper has left you." It was entirely a guess that this was what Allarion's temper looked like, but it was different enough from the placid, if aloof, demeanor he knew from the fae that he was willing to risk it.

For he wouldn't risk Lady Aislinn. He'd not bring an angry fae to her door.

Those nostrils flared again. "Everyone assumes I mean her harm. Why? I have said nothing of the sort."

"They assume by reputation."

Allarion frowned. "A fae hasn't slain a human in hundreds of years."

"They have long memories. But I won't take you because Lady Aislinn is…she's a friend and a good woman. She doesn't deserve your ire."

Allarion looked on for a long moment, and Hakon locked his knees to stay in place and bear the brunt of that intense gaze.

Whatever he saw, the fae eventually nodded once. The air returned to its mild autumn temperature, and Bellarand nickered.

"Very well. If you speak for her, I trust it is true."

Hakon worked to hide the surprise from his face but didn't think he succeeded.

"Please," said Allarion, "I wish to speak with the heiress and resolve the matter."

Slowly, Hakon nodded. "She'll be in her study this time of morning."

"Take me there?"

Hakon reluctantly agreed, untying his leather apron and throwing it across the sill of an open smithy window. He caught Fearghas's round eyes through the gloom.

"Best tell Captain Aodhan that the heiress has an otherly guest," he told the old human.

"I'm not sure the captain needs to know," Allarion said.

"But he'll want to. He's a good man. Fair. Just wants to ensure the safety of the heiress."

Allarion made a considering sound in his throat but otherwise stood still, waiting for Hakon to lead him into the castle.

With another nicker, Bellarand turned around to trot back out of the bailey.

"Yes, all right. Stay out of trouble," Allarion called after him.

The unicorn flicked his long tail.

"Dare I ask where he's going?" said Hakon.

"Back into the courtyard to inspire terror and awe. They are his favorite."

"I see." He didn't, but he was too unsettled to say anything else.

Hakon kept the fae in his peripheral vision as he led him up and into the castle. The beast wanted to lead him straight to the dungeons to lock up the potential threat, but Hakon swallowed the asinine desire. Allarion was right—he'd never been aggressive or threatening toward anyone, let alone Lady Aislinn.

Still, he didn't savor bringing the fae to her, if only because Allarion's business was likely to upset her. And mean more work. Which might threaten their afternoon together.

The dungeon is starting to sound like a good option.

It wasn't until the third floor, however, that Hakon remembered one vital detail. He didn't know which door was Lady Aislinn's study. He knew exactly which was her window and could make an educated guess—but he didn't want to barge into rooms.

Thankfully, the chatelain, Brenna, exited one of the rooms down the hall.

"Mistress Brenna!" he called.

The older woman looked on in shock—perhaps even horror—as they approached. Hakon tried not to take offense. Like Fearghas, she'd made it clear since he'd arrived that she didn't approve of him nor Lady Aislinn spending time with him in the smithy.

"What is this about?" she asked, eyes narrowing.

"Which is Lady Aislinn's study? Lord Allarion has important business."

To her credit, the chatelain didn't wither or quiver. She met the fae's chilly stare as she looked between him and Hakon.

"Lord Allarion doesn't have an appointment."

"I can wait," the fae said. "I'm a patient male. Just show me to the great hall where I might wait for the heiress."

A tendon in Brenna's cheek twitched. "That won't be necessary." She nodded to the door two down. "That's her study. But don't keep the lady long, she has important work to do." Gathering herself up to her full height, she leveled Hakon with a steely glare. "And she's far too busy to waste time with you today, blacksmith."

"Yes, mistress," he grumbled.

With a decisive nod, Brenna pushed between them on her way down the corridor.

They waited for her to disappear down the stairs before moving toward Lady Aislinn's door.

"That woman is unpleasant," said Allarion.

"She can be." Hakon decided that was as diplomatic as he could be. Brenna kept the castle running smoothly, but he'd never seen the woman smile. She didn't eat with the staff nor take part in any of the gatherings they held on rest days. She seemed to always be working and determined to keep Lady Aislinn that way, too.

Rapping a knuckle on the door, Hakon waited with impatience for the sweet, "Come in!" The sound of her voice soothed his temper, and he opened the door to her study with a smile on his face.

Inside was a trove of books.

The room was oblong, with some of the limestone blocks of the castle showing through the worn plaster walls. Wooden shelves had been mounted on the walls, books spilling over onto the floor in great piles that reached almost to Hakon's shoulder. Two arched windows on the south wall let light stream inside.

Magnifiers, rulers, scales, weights, compasses, pens, and sharpening knives sat atop books and folios. It was a chaotic cavern of scholarly delights that smelled of parchment, ink, and Lady Aislinn.

Hakon loved it immediately.

Sitting at a battered desk on the far side, Lady Aislinn herself looked up in surprise at their entrance. She was enchanting as always, her hair gathered in a braid that followed the slope of her head, and her limbs clad in a lovely green gown. Ink stained her fingertips, and she had a charcoal smudge on her cheek.

"Oh. Oh! Hakon—Allarion!" A blush overcame the tanned skin of her cheeks, and she looked with increasing worry between them.

"Good day, my lady. Allarion and Bellarand have come to see you today with business."

She glanced at the still open door with trepidation. "The unicorn isn't right outside, is he?"

"Rest assured, he's perfectly content in the courtyard being admired from afar." Something of a fond grin curved on the fae's lips. It was more disconcerting than his temper chilling the bailey.

"All right." She cleared her throat. "What can I do for you today, Lord Allarion?"

"I've come to settle the matter of the Scarborough estate."

Lady Aislinn's brows arched in comprehension. "Oh yes! I've been waiting for your petition. I asked Brenna, the chatelain, about it not long ago and she said she hadn't seen it." She winced with embarrassment. "I apologize, I looked everywhere for the petitions you sent but couldn't find them. I'm sorry you've had to come all the way here."

Laying a hand over his heart—or where in the chest most others' hearts were—Allarion assured her, "It's no trouble, my lady. I just wish to resolve the matter."

"Of course."

Turning to her left, Lady Aislinn rifled through several volumes and parchment rolls, pulling out a large, leather-bound folio. She flipped to a large map of the Darrowlands, the land covered with names written in fine scrawling script that had long since faded to brown. Tracing the map with a finger, Lady Aislinn followed the curve of the Shanago River north, to a place that's name had been scratched out.

"You're sure you wish to let the Scarborough estate? It's sat fallow for decades."

"No, I don't wish to let it. I wish to purchase it."

Lady Aislinn stared at the fae for a long moment. "Purchase it? But it has no farms, no village."

"Precisely why it will suit me."

"You would be beholden to attend council meetings, as a landholder."

"A good excuse to socialize."

Lady Aislinn bit her lip, still looking uncertain.

"You seem to have no need of it," Allarion reasoned. "If it has sat abandoned for so long, then no one has cared about it in a long while. I will restore the estate and land. I will pledge loyalty to the Darrow name, and none shall be a timelier taxpayer."

That got a grin from the heiress. "You make a strong case. I only worry that the land is far away from the community you have on the Brádaigh estate. It's far from anyone, really."

"You're only making it more alluring to me, my lady."

Lady Aislinn thought a moment before smiling and stretching out her hand. "All right, then. The estate is yours. I look forward to seeing you at the next council meeting."

"As do I."

Allarion took her hand, and they shook in the human way.

Hakon swallowed the growl building in his chest that another unmated male might touch that which wasn't his.

Although sure he hadn't made a sound, the fae's unnatural gaze slid to him, one brow ticking up in an interested arch.

"Would you prefer we decide today on a payment schedule or wait until my father returns? The deed will need his seal of writ before it's final."

"No need," said Allarion. From beneath his fathomless cloak, he pulled a clinking velvet sack and laid it on the open map. "I believe this will do?"

Lady Aislinn blinked at the coin purse. "Quite so," she murmured, as surprised as Hakon at the sight of such a bulging purse.

Shaking herself, Lady Aislinn pulled a fresh piece of parchment from a stack and began writing up the terms of the sale and deed. When everything was decided and final, she signed it and then passed it to Allarion for his signature.

Rather than taking the quill she offered, Allarion ran the tip of a finger over the parchment. A spark and sudden smell of ash filled the room. Allarion's burnt signature appeared alongside Lady Aislinn's.

"My father will need to sign it as well and add his seal," said the heiress, staring in wonderment at the fae's signature.

"That will be soon?"

Blinking, Lady Aislinn looked up to nod. "Yes, he returns tomorrow for the wedding. I will personally ensure he signs it and give it to you at the wedding, if that is agreeable?"

"Indeed." Pleased, the fae swept into a low bow, his long hair nearly touching the floorboards. "Thank you for seeing me, my lady."

"Of course! I apologize again that it's taken this long to sort out."

Straightening from his bow, Allarion's face went hard again. Gone was the pleasant charm as he negotiated with Lady Aislinn.

"I don't mean to presume, my lady, but you might consider looking into the matter of how correspondence makes its way to you."

Her lips parted in surprise, but then the fae was bowing and saying his farewells.

"I will see you both at the wedding."

And with a swish of his cloak, he departed, leaving behind whispers of magic.

Hakon and Lady Aislinn stared after him for a long moment before blinking at each other.

"I can't believe there was a fae warrior in my study," she whispered.

"At least he didn't bring the unicorn with him."

Her lips scrunched and then Lady Aislinn let out a peal of laughter. Hakon joined in, lighting up at seeing her amusement.

She settled back in her chair, the smile still on her lips. "A visit from a fae and the largest land sale in a decade—all before luncheon."

"All the other heiresses will be envious."

Lady Aislinn snorted. "Hardly."

Hakon's gaze stole to the map, still open on her desk. Reaching into his pocket, he approached her, his throat going tight.

"While the map is out…I wondered if I might claim my own land sale."

Lady Aislinn looked up at him, her bright golden eyes wide with surprise. "We don't have any more unclaimed estates, I'm afraid."

"No need for something so grand. I was thinking of something like Varon's farm."

"I didn't realize you had farming aspirations," she teased.

"By the old gods, no. I'm not suited for it. But land of my own—that I aspire to."

He held her gaze as the merriment of before morphed into curiosity. Lady Aislinn cleared away the parchment from atop the map and traced a finger from Dundúran toward the Brádaigh estate.

"There are several parcels available. Did you know which one?" she asked.

Hakon leaned over the desk, putting their heads close, and followed the path of her finger. His bumped hers over the Brádaigh estate.

"Here," he said, "with the meadow. Do you know it?"

He watched as her expression went soft with fondness. "Yes. Sorcha and I used to pick flowers there in the spring. It's a lovely place."

She liked the plot. She had fond memories of it. It was near her friend.

His beast howled in triumph.

Take her there. Mate her there. Build her a fine home.

"What will you do with it?" she asked, voice gone low and soft.

"Build a home. A forge." His gaze dropped to her lips. "Have a family."

"Is that why you came to the Darrowlands, ultimately? For a family?"

The question felt far more serious than her voice implied.

He held that gaze of hers, enthralled, and knew he had to choose his answer wisely. He didn't know why, only that he did.

"I came to find a purpose," he finally answered.

And it's you.

She pulled a long draw of air into her lungs, and Hakon couldn't help his eyes flicking down to see how it made her breasts push against the neckline of her gown. He pulled his gaze up only to find her watching him, her eyes gone heavy-lidded.

Hakon swallowed on a dry throat.

The motion pulled her gaze to his throat, and then up to his mouth, where it lingered.

Kiss her. Do it. She wants you to!

Hakon swayed toward her, hardly hearing how the papers rustled beneath his hand. Her pupils blew wide, and her lips parted. He could feel the heat of her on his lips, needed only the smallest encouragement to close the breath's distance between them.

"Shall I draw up another deed for my father to sign?"

She turned her head away, and Hakon retreated. Only a little.

She feels it.

His heart pounded harder than a hammer against an anvil in the confines of his chest.

She feels it, too.

"Yes," he said, too dumbstruck to say more.

From his pocket he pulled three uncut gems. It wasn't enough for the parcel, but it was enough to surprise her.

"I can bring more for the full price," he said.

"Are those…?" She tentatively reached to touch one with a fingertip.

"Sapphires."

Her mouth opened and closed as she brought one closer to inspect. She turned it round, catching the light in the dark blue depths.

"Oh, Hakon, these are beautiful. Where…?"

"Not half as beautiful as you, my lady." She blinked up at him, and for a moment he didn't think she'd heard his bumbling declaration. Then pink suffused her cheeks and her lips twitched with a smile.

Heart in his throat, Hakon rounded the desk and reached for the hand holding the gem.

"Even when it is cut and polished, it won't shine half as brightly as you do."

Her blush deepened, and she seemed to squirm in her seat.

"You're flattering me."

"I'm only speaking the truth."

He brought the hand he held to his lips and kissed each knuckle.

"Hakon…" Perhaps his name was a warning, perhaps a plea. All he knew was its breathy tone and how it lured him closer.

"I would make you the finest crown, the brightest torque inset with these. No one would be able to look away from how you shine."

She stared up at him, her lips parted. "I don't shine," she murmured.

"Oh, you do. So brightly, it burns hotter than my forge fires."

His heart ached to see the way her eyes went wide and vulnerable at his words. She wasn't ready to hear his praise—which meant she wasn't ready to hear how deeply he adored her.

Reluctantly, he let her hand go and resumed his place on the other side of the desk. He kept his expression open and friendly as they worked out the details of the deed. He didn't tell her how her hair caught the daylight, shining like spun gold. He didn't say how he admired the slope of her shoulder or careful flex of her fingers as she signed the deed. He didn't even admit how thoroughly he wished to kiss her as he bent to add his own name.

He didn't know Eirean writing so instead signed his name in orcish. Hakon Green-Fist.

He more than liked the way it looked alongside Lady Aislinn Darrow —he relished it.

"Thank you, my lady."

She smiled shyly up at him, having regained her composure. "I look forward to seeing the life you build there, Hakon."