Page 11 of Fated
Hugh loves her more than she understands and Charles loves her more than he understands. She’s different and she knows it’s a very fine line between being eccentric and being committed to Bedlam. But Hugh is determined to protect her, and Charles is determined to marry her. The three of them together…
Eris wakes, carefully untangling her fingers from their clutch on the threads. She continues to hold theirs, however, so reverently. “Ribbon this family is so, so lovely.”
“Tell me.”
“She’s Autistic? I believe? Perhaps something more, definitely an anxiety disorder. Her friend Hugh grounds her, keeps her tethered to the world, safe. And Charles… he helps her to fly.”
“Hmmmm. And thisss, it worksss?”
“Oh yes, it works very much— wait.”
Eris strokes the thread, moves her hands to another thread tangled with theirs. “Oh Ribs, it’s even more incredible than I thought.”
“Do tell, love.”
Amelia and Hugh and Charles’s story can be found in the illustrated novel: The Duke and The Baron.
ALL THE STARS IN THE SKY
“Their first kiss was enough to wake the gods and make them take notice. Enough to bend the world around them. Enough to sustain them only for moments.
“More. They both needed more. She called her Ellie, and Ellie called her Lou, and their connection went beyond all earthly connections into a bond so spiritual it can only be spoken of in whispered hushes or in song.”
Eris let out the breath she held, her thumb stroking the thread, the pulse responding, the thread warming and glowing beneath her fingers.
“Ribbon, I think tearing these threads has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Getting to know all of these humans, their tragedy and their joy. Their love and their passion. Their struggles and their absolute triumphs. I feel touched by the gods to know and them and share some small piece of their story.”
“Erisss.”
“Ribbon, I was so lost, I didn’t understand how big everything is.”
Ellie and Lou’s story can be found in the illustrated novel: The Lady and Her Secret Lover.
IN THE END… HIM
Eris and Ribbon spent the rest of the days of her week loving on the cat hoard— they did finally earn their trust and friendship. One morning she even awoke to find a cat licking Ribbon’s scales as he hissed little kisses against the kitty’s nose. Of course as soon as Ribbon realized Eris was awake he coiled tightly, guarding himself from the cat in abashment.
Eris had fashioned a cap for her hair from some fabrics she found, capping the points of her thorns with some old marshmallows she’d seen in a cabinet.
At night Eris and Ribbon slept on a low pallet she’d created from split logs, hay, and forest debris. She’d then covered it with a clean linen and rested, carefully, beneath the fabric of time. Dreaming of the humans whose souls were protected therein.
Her last night of the week brought her to the most endearing of families— when she woke Ribbon knew something had happened. Eris held the blanket tight to her chest, her heartbeat slowing to match the pulse of the fabric of time, wrapping her in the love she found therein.
“Must I asssksss for you to ssshare or will you tell without me begging?” he asked.
Eris laughed, “I was only waiting for you to waken naturally.”
“Naturally,”
“I met a family, Ribs, so much more beautiful in the end than at the beginning. Like the rainbow of a storm. Bridger, the father, was brilliant, neurodivergent, and desperately in love with a man whose name he didn’t know and couldn’t ask. And that feeling was mutual— more than, perhaps. Bridger preferred his northern England estate and his personal passion was bees. He loved them like children and spoke to them as family. He wasn’t the best of fathers to his flesh and blood, but he was the absolute best his brain allowed for him to be.
“Even then he of course wished for more for his daughters because he knew… he knew they were better off being loved by someone who could return that love in a way they deserved.”
“How… aware,” Ribbon replies and Eris nods, pulling the souls closer to her to feel the soft beat of their lives.
“Yes, Ribbon. Saoirse, the youngest, took after her father in the mind department. She didn’t speak much but when she did it was through quotes from her favourite authors and novels. Jane Austen when she was happy, Jane Eyre when she wasn’t. She was loved dearly by both her father and Maebh, but because she never spoke her own mind, instead choosing to borrow the minds of literary genius, they felt a bit disconnected from her, particularly Maebh who wanted only a companion at their home far from society.
And Maebh, being the eldest and perhaps the most accessible in thought process, wanted very much to have a relationship with Bridger and doted on him and every overt gesture he attempted. He tried, he truly did, but she knew there was a different sort of love for her somewhere. Certainly there would be a man who could be hers, who would kiss her hurts and help with her ails, and love her like she herself had built the forest and fen for them to explore— and her time had come.
