Episode 97: The Setup (Aadya)

Eurydice’s skin glowed, dark golden brown, beneath the white folds of the dress: a classic white dress that fit her body down to her thighs, then lightly ebbed away from her skin. Across her rib cage and waist, bands of white fabric crossed, holding the fabric even closer to her skin. 

She was beautiful. Aadya had a thousand things on her mind, but ensuring the dress was treated to make it fireproof for the wedding was at the top of the list. Tanji would handle it, but it had to be dropped off.

She wove her way through the halls, to Tanji’s apartment, with the dress tucked inside a white bag that crinkled as she walked. 

Aadya could not have dreamed a better wife for her son, though she knew it was sudden. It was almost too sudden, except she understood the bond. She saw the strength of their relationship blossoming between them and strengthening with each touch. She saw how brilliantly he made her smile when he offered to have a formal ceremony. 

It amused her that Eurydice had been one of her choices for the school; every person involved in the school had say in which students were selected. She had admired Eurydice’s mind, the way it looked at the world as though every idea was a piece of gold, but she also knew to ensure it was true gold before acting on it. She excelled at working with others and would make an excellent ambassador or project leader. 

Her physical skills were mediocre, which was better than many of the other students that were not following military paths. Even Spence wasn’t the most physically talented, but he had shown that hard work and dedication, along with his skill of noticing details, was enough to prove himself to Konrad. He could notice slight changes in stance that could hint at coming moves more accurately than trying to predict patterns, and for that she admired watching him train. 

Once she had dropped the dress off with Tanji, it was Aadya’s mission to give her son and future-daughter-in-law a beautiful ceremony. She headed to the kitchen.

With the summer festival coming the before the week’s end, tables stood ready in the garden. Wood archways framed the tables with dangling lights, her favorite of all of the setups outdoors. She had worked in the kitchen for the past hour, ensuring there would be ample food for the wedding. Traditional wedding bonbons needed to be prepared in large quantities. An animal would be sacrificed, a traditional even Nell supported.

All hands worked tirelessly, and she was coated in flour and chocolate and jellies. She felt the conviction to give her children what they asked for, when it came to weddings and apartments, love and support. She cherished these moments of exhaustion.

She still had to see Magenta about the floral arrangements, fresh fruit trees covered in ripe fruit guests could pick as they walked by, and a few dozen bundles of greens.

She dusted her hands off, the last of her bonbons prepared, and walked out of the kitchen. She was about to notify Magenta through Apa’s mind, when Meldrick – absent for most of the preparations thus far – called her to the dragon barn. He had a man with him, someone Aadya had never seen before. The man had short wavy curls of hair and piercing silvery blue eyes. He was wearing the wrong clothes for the Dells: thick jeans that some of her children enjoyed and an even thicker shirt with a hood. 

He was from Babylon, most likely a human without magic or any previous magic exposure.

Aadya’s skin bristled with heat and her fingers sparked toward the ground. 

She attempted to reply to his call with a message of her own, however he had already left the realm to go back on his merry way, leaving her with the unintentionally met third wheel of his and Giana’s date.

Aadya sighed. 

This wasn’t how she wanted their relationship to unfold; she had pushed him away twice as hard as he had left. She had, in most ways, created the end of their marriage. She had pushed for it. She had said the bond wouldn’t save them.

Whatever had happened to expose this stranger, it was up to Aadya to resolve. 

She was frustrated, not just in this moment but in every moment. Even counting stars beneath the panes of her bedroom ceiling had no effect on her frustration. She was lonely, in the end. Meldrick had always been there for her, when she needed an arm to wrap around her or a mind to hear her out.

It was foolish to reject someone who offered so much, but her heart wasn’t there. It wasn’t his. She wanted something else, something more, something that made her skin spark with excitement instead of annoyance. She wanted the weight of lifetimes and memories lost, of the curse, of losing Drey, to not matter. Most moments in her memory had been burdened with a heaviness.

She stepped into the barn, walking down the rows of stalls toward Dancer’s stall.

Whatever this man needed, she would give, then head back to her work. To be safe, she notified Magenta by dragon. The reply was instant, and it reassured her that there was some hope in making sure Endymion and Eurydice’s wedding went off without a notable flaw.

She had half the mind to go and find Meldrick, force him to end his date, and put him to work.

She resisted. Instead, she looked for the man. 

“Hello?” she asked, into the air in hopes he would reply. She rolled her eyes, to no audience, because of course he was hiding somewhere.

Then, with a strange stirring inside herself, saw the hint of his sweatshirt around the edge of Apa’s stall and turned the corner. 

He sat there, back against the wall and injured from the dragons. Apa stood above him, the eggs tucked behind the whip of her tail and a foot on either side of him. She was staring him down. Aadya let her hand slide down Apa’s scale’s, glittering blue and as stunning as the ocean littered with bioluminescent life.

She turned to face the man and his eyes scanned her, from head to toe. She rubbed her thumb against her stomach to make sure she was dressed; his eyes had devoured her as though the thin clothing was missing completely.

She felt a bond, lingering and beginning to exist. 

Meldrick, she thought, angry and confused.

Why had he dropped this man off, here. 

Why could she feel such a draw to him, with the talisman securely around her neck.

“I’m not interested,” she stated. Aloud. 

The air forced itself from her lungs: He held his arm against his body, and he was coated in blood from Apa’s nips.

“Are you interesting” he asked.

For you, yes.

“No,” she stated. She unfolded her arms and moved to his side, kneeling in the crisp straw. She had the talisman; she had choice. “I’m willing to provide medical care.” I’m not willing to fall in love with you. I don’t have time for that

His eyes scanned her again, and her skin prickled more intensely. “That’s very generous of you, considering I was kidnapped. Perhaps you also have my sons.”

She pushed the bond aside, deeper within herself, and let her fingers graze his leg, feeling the extent of his injuries. Feeling him. Her body betrayed her agenda. Lust, she corrected. The bond was lust. Lust where love wanted to take root. She would not bend to lust’s demands. “That depends on who they are.” 

Her mind reached for Apa’s, and requested Zero or Spaden come to the barn. As an afterthought, she included Spence. Company would be useful and expedite his recovery. “Also, you weren’t kidnapped, you were set up,” she informed him.

“Where are you from?” she asked. It didn’t matter what Meldrick might want with him, he was here and she could help him move on from here if she got to the heart of things faster.

“Set up?” he asked, one eye raised higher than the other. 

She locked her eyes on his leg; she planned to slide her hand up the leg of the jeans and used another on the top. Once her lower hand formed a barrier to his skin. She would fire to heat and ice to cool the material rapidly, so the magic would act like the scissors she wished she had.

His leg twitched beneath her touch, her fingers hardly moving past the lower hem. “I’m from the sovereign state of none of your god-damned business.”

Her fingers pulled away and she sat back on the heels of her feet. It was hard to remember he felt nothing of the bond, of the pull. 

While she wondered how to react to him, what to say, and how to move things along. The proximity was intoxicating. Before too long, Spaden transported into the barn with a box of gauze and creams in hand. 

“Hey,” he said. “You needed these?”

Spaden’s eyes drifted to the man, his eyes widening. He froze, which almost made Aadya laugh, then he kneeled too. “My name is Spaden. May I treat your wounds?”

“You may,” Greg replied, to her disappointment. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen,” he replied. Spaden began examining Greg. He applied creams to the wounds that covered his body, and Aadya reminded herself to scold Dancer and Apa, and possibly Calamity. In the corner of the stall sat Calamity’s two pink eggs, nestled under the protection of Apa. 

“Thank you, Spaden,” Aadya said as he finished working on the various small wounds. The larger issues of his leg and arm would be next. 

“You have two choices,” she told Greg, in part to distract him. “Interrogation or cooperation. I don’t have the patience to decide for you. I was actually busy, despite Meldrick’s opinion of my evening.”

“So was I.” He sat up more, his hand brushing across his short facial hair. “He seems to be good at interrupting people. We should stop him.”

Him. 

Meldrick.

It’s not like she could tell him, Thank you for dropping off someone I’m more drawn to than I ever was you. 

“Unfortunately, bonding over my ex isn’t on my agenda,” she replied.

Spaden laughed, but the guy just looked at her more intent. “I said stop him, not bond over him.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment too long, till her skin began to warm and the persistence of the connection once again begged for freedom. 

The man fell back against the wall again and looked off toward Apa, “You’re prettier but you’re more stubborn.”

“Thank you,” Aadya replied.

Spaden looked up at Greg and asked him to remove his pants, and if he had underwear or needed something.

Aadya could not contain the widening of her eyes in astonishment; Spaden didn’t bat an eye. Spaden was possessed, it seemed. She would have to consult Zero on the matter.

Inside, she laughed. She was possessed.

Greg looked at her, then slid his pants from his waist. Aadya’s body tensed, because he never answered the underwear question. To her relief, he was wearing a pair of dark blue short-like things. 

She looked elsewhere, to distract herself.

The dragons had done a number on the man. He must have earned it, but she couldn’t sort out why. Blood stained his skin though, and the flesh cracked wide above his knee.

“Can you hold his thigh?” Spaden asked. 

“Very funny, Spaden,” she replied. She looked down at her hands and studied them for a moment, stuck in indecision. She needed to do this, to make things move faster so she could move on.

She lifted her hand and let it fall on the man’s thigh. Breath escaped his lips, whistling through the air toward her. The heat made her wonder what had happened to the barn; it was cold now. She took a few steady breaths, then, she wrapped her other hand around it, because just holding the top felt too intimate and pointless.

As soon as her eyes left his leg, he spoke, “A little higher – it gives better support.”

She met his eyes, the silverey-blue, and tried to figure out what to say. She should have said something intelligent, some sort of retort. Instead, she slid her hand up his thigh, as high as she could handle without feeling too uncomfortable with Spaden beside them.

“Better?” she asked, as he replied the same word.

She held her hand there while Spaden worked, supporting his leg and keeping it still when he tried to move it. There was nothing she wanted more than to leave the barn and the intensity of his presence.

She also knew there was no way Meldrick knew she would be drawn to the man; there had to be some other reason he was there. She needed to care about that, to deal with it and move on. The wedding.

Endymion’s wedding.

She sent a few other orders out, delegating as many tasks as possible to give herself time.

“Do you need anything else?” Spaden asked. “Do you have any other injuries.

“Since you seem to be the leg doctor, would you mind sending the abdominal wound doctor?” he asked.

Without a moment to have a thought, Aadya’s hand moved up his thigh and toward his chest. 

“I can treat them,” Spaden said.

Aadya withdrew her hand and stood, “What are you doing here? And what are your sons’ names?”

She folded his pants into a neat square, which she knew he would undo in a moment but the act of gave her a moment of distraction.

“Did you  forget that your ex kidnapped me?”

Hung in the moments of his skin beneath her hands and his eyes locked on hers, yes, she had. “I tried to – but you had to remind me,” she teased.

Spaden had him remove his shirt, and had him lie on the barn floor in only a few inches of fabric (which she understood, but Spaden could have taken them elsewhere, though she had insisted he come there…). 

“As a prisoner, I have rights under the Geneva Convention,” he stated. 

“What’s the Geneva convention?” Aadya asked. She knew of all the major laws that governed how the Dells behaved within Babylon – there were many, because they were against magic. 

“It was when everyone met in Geneva to talk about rights. Shame you weren’t invited.”

“There doesn’t happen to be a Geneva in this realm” she replied, her face as steady as possible. “We do have a wedding tonight and a festival beginning tomorrow.”

He threw his hands up, “Not my wedding. I never agreed to be set up.”

Aadya’s skin, as dark as it was, must have managed a blush beneath the waves of laughter. “My son’s wedding. Unfortunately, you will have to help set things up if you intend to avoid the prison.”

“You think he’s gay?” Spaden asked, his voice pitching enough that Aadya knew he was joking, but not enough that Greg’s eyes widened even more. 

“You can try to imprison me,” he decided. 

It was silent for a moment, except for the subtle waves of laughter Aadya couldn’t contain.

She looked up at Apa again, then back to Greg, “I would succeed.” 

“Is that all?” Spaden asked Greg, handing his pants back to him.

“No,” Greg replied.

It happened in an instant – Greg’s hand slid onto Spaden’s thigh. Spaden dropped the cream in his hand and the pressure of landing on the ground caused it to explode onto the straw. Spaden fell back.

“If you want that,” Spaden said, his voice uneven, “You’ll want my brother.”

“Don’t accuse a man of being gay unless you want to deal with the consequences,” Greg said, firm and absolute as he pulled his hand away.

“He was joking,” Aadya defended.

At least she meant to defend, but it was more of a sarcastic cut-him-a-break comment.

It was better than laughing at Spaden’s reaction.

“Hm,” he replied, a final, I won, sort of sound.

She wanted to know where he had learned it. Not that it mattered, she reminded herself.

Spaden handed him a drink, and Aadya studied it to get a feeling as to what it might be. Spaden was not very fun – it was simply a healing medication. There wasn’t even truth serum in it. “So – any other aches?” Spaden asked.

“No,” he replied. “I appreciate your help.”

Aadya was dying to ask him why he tried to provoke a dragon. She tried asking Apa, but there was nothing except the smug protective smile gleaming beneath her snout.

Yes I like him too, she thought. 

Apa turned in a circle and settled around the eggs while Spaden thanked the man for letting him help.

He pulled his pants on and stood, brushing the debris of the barn off of his legs as though it would make a difference when he was coated in blood and there were numerous rips. He looked up at Spaden, who was a few inches taller than him.“Never say thank you, it makes people wonder what you’re up to.”

Aadya wrapped her arm around Spaden. He was taller than her too. She was pretty sure her height was about the same as the guy’s. Not that it mattered, she was just used to the towering men that surrounded her, plus Meldrick. He was only about three inches taller than her. In heels, they were comparable. 

“Always say thank you,” she told Spaden. She looked at the guy, biting her tongue for a second to hide a smile, “It makes people wonder.”

She let Spaden go, her arm falling to her side. The babies kicked; she wondered if they felt the shrill of anticipation and wonder beginning to flow through her. She had the talisman; she wouldn’t bond to him. But, given the bond wanted to exist, she knew whatever happened would be fun.

She looked to Spaden, one last time before he left, “Tell Zero he isn’t allowed to skip the wedding. Indigo helped plan it.”

“He knows,” Spaden replied. He lifted his bag from the ground and vanished.

Aadya took a moment to collect her thoughts. They were alone and he was healed.

She needed this. She needed a night to relax. She needed someone to stand beside her while Giana stood beside Meldrick that evening.

She needed to remember how to live, not just exist.

Somehow, she had gone from never to for now.

“Now, where were we?” she asked him. She could feel the heat building beneath her skin. She still had to convince him to stay, but he seemed like someone that might agree. 

“Prison, with shackles, clothes are banned,” he replied. 

Might was more so would.

“Do weddings always cause you this much distress?” she teased.

“I’m not gay, so in this case they do.”

She bit her tongue again, to hold back another smile. 

He wasn’t allowed to see her smile so much, yet. It made her feel too easy, too entertained, too hey mom, I just bonded to Eurydice so we’re moving in together getting married.

“The heads of security are,” she stated. 

“Damn.” 

She laughed now, while she led him out of the barn. 

She looked back after a few steps. His eyes darted toward the dragons then he moved, to her side. He looked back again, before the began their walk together. 

“What do you want from me then?” he asked. 

She let her hand drift oddly between then, torn between offering it and having some semblance of flirtation that wasn’t her throwing herself at him. She opted to leave it at.her side, alone and longing to feel his fingers woven with hers.

“To keep you close while I discover your motives. And the names of your sons,” she replied. She felt lighter while she walked; her body buzzed with nerves. 

This felt good. Not just like a way to deal with the wedding and festival, but right. 

She noticed eyes following them as they walked through the gardens. She’d never considered a human before. She had once considered Harold, a dwarf, but their friendship was destined to remain just that; she preferred it. 

It didn’t matter. She had someone to focus on while they finished decorating the garden. 

She handed him some paper mâché things.

“I am primarily a bank robber,” he informed her. his hands grasped the ladder as she took a step up, then he set his hand on her back. 

She looked at him, wondering why he had stopped her.

He looked at her, like she was an insane pregnant woman climbing a ladder.

She glared at him, her eyes narrow and focused.

He raised his, flirty and tempting. 

She covered her lips with her fingers, the tiniest of laughs escaping. Then, despite her reputation for being stubborn, she stepped away from the ladder. 

“So,” he continued, scaling the ladder himself. “Unless you have a bank, you don’t have to worry about me. If you do have a bank, it would be nice if you had some memory trouble.”

She handed him ties and decorations as he needed them. 

“We use vaults, but I wouldn’t call it a bank.”

He descended the ladder, his body close to hers. She could have stepped back, but she enjoyed breathing him in.

“What is your standard?” he asked.

You, she thought. Whatever he was. She wanted this night. The teasing, the flirting, the feeling like time could wait for them to be ready for it. 

“Gold.”

She helped him move the ladder. Then he moved closer again, shrugged. “That’s useless in most places.” He ascended the ladder and reached for the paper mâché to complete the dance that was a secret to everyone but them. The Waltz of the Ladder, she deemed it. 

“What if I bring you some aluminum? High value, useful in any economy, and you can just dump that gold somewhere and stop mining it. You don’t need it.”

She knew very little about money, but she trusted everyone else to. 

Plus, their kitchen had aluminum foil in it.

She looked up at him and grinned; he was messing with her. Of course he was. She wasn’t used to it.

“Gold has value here,” she replied. 

Disappointment at her own line filled her. She had no idea how to flirt. 

“So if I go home and get some, I’d be rich?”

He jumped to the ground. 

“It’s possible,” she mused. “I actually don’t understand currency systems. I just store it.”

“Hm. Well next time I make it home I’ll just use my aluminum stores to get a ton of gold.”

Home. He wasn’t from there. He had no room to sleep in. 

She closed her eyes while he worked and imagined something he could wear for the evening. She sent the request along to one of the other workers in the garden, to be brought to her bedroom.

“I wish you luck,” she said, unsure about the context: a reply to his comment of a general assessment over her plans for him 

It wasn’t that she intended to use him, she just. 

She wanted this. Him. A night, an escort to the wedding, a hand to reach for when she wanted to dance. 

If he danced. 

The continued to work, then when the last of the rows was done they began discoursing the bonbons to each table, ensuring the tables were set properly as they went.

She was running out of time to bridge the gap between meeting and the wedding. 

If he said no, she would need time to reorganize herself.

She waited, examining a half dozen place settings, before speaking. 

“Is there really no way aside from a date, that I can help you?” she asked.

She sounded like an idiot, her tone pitchy and revealing.

His hand froze an inch from the table; he looked at her. “Did you just ask me out?” 

She let her fingers trail across the table as she placed another bonbon. “I need an escort for this evening.”

She looked at him, meeting his eyes. She liked them, and the soft way he looked at her. The intense way he looked at her. The way he saw her, and wasn’t afraid to make a joke.

It would be a nice evening. 

“Count me in.” His voice was solid and hungry. 

Or maybe that’s what she wanted it to be. There was no sense in denying she felt something, however useless it was.

Drey would be back, she reminded herself. Somehow.

They kept working, and they kept talking. They talked about realms and the fact that his own realm had a name no one from there understood, which was deliberate. 

They talked about his wife, and how she died. Drey, and how he died. Why he died.

They teased each other too, with an endless stream of banter she didn’t realize she missed – or wanted. She wasn’t sure she ever had it, except with the normal, frustrating, banter with children. 

This was new, desired, refreshing. 

One of her hands was still holding the ladder, more as a precaution than anything else. For the time, she focused on the grass. It was in most ways the opposite of him, the guy she had yet to learn the name of. She wasn’t sure she should ask; she wanted to see where things went. 

“So,” he said, interrupting her thoughts with not only his words but his body, facing her from the foot of the ladder. “You’re a queen. And you don’t understand money.”

She smiled and laughed. “I pay other people to understand it for me.”

“How much do you pay them?”

That, she knew. Drey and Meldrick and Indigo had all set up pay scales before the war ended.

She looked at him, his blue pants, his eyes, the way his existence had snuck up on her like an undercurrent.

“Seventy-one dellers a day plus board and food.”

“Sure!” he exclaimed.

He. Mr. blue pants and blue eyes and out-of-the-blue.

Hello, Mr. Blue, she thought.

She didn’t need a name, not now – not yet.

“This wasn’t an interview,” she stated, a smile bitten back. 

“That’s not what your ex said when he kidnapped me. You’ll have to take it up with him later.”

He was lying. She adored the effort. The desire to stay. She wanted him, whoever he was. “And what job do you think you’re getting?”

“Understander of gold.”

She laughed; he had just tried to sell her on his aluminum scheme. 

“You’d have to learn about our realm,” she teased. “Gold.”

She opened her palm to him, a dancing flicker of fire amassed into a tumbling ball, “And you may need magic.”

“I agree,” he said, his tone casual, his eyes enthralled, his body eager.

Then, something new slipped across his face, like a mask peeling away. His cheeks fell lower, his eyes looked deeper. “So did your ex kidnap my sons?”

“Who are your sons?”

“Jay, Oscar, and Philip. they would be… seventeen, fourteen, and six.”

She heard the names, Jay first. She knew a seventeen year old human Jay. it couldn’t be coincidence. Oscar second – she toyed with the name and all the Oscars she had ever heard of. There weren’t many, none were human or teenaged. A feeling lingered inside her and she reached for it, chasing it down a winding path in her mind. She didn’t know. He would be there soon, maybe, depending. It wasn’t of use. Last, Philip. Philip was a common name in some places, but one she has only heard once. It wasn’t a human and he was far older than six.

She tried to resolve Oscar, but she had lost whatever connection she had grasped before. 

“A boy named Jay recently joined us here. The other two- I’m afraid not.”

She wondered what it would feel like to touch him again; she was a touchy person, but she had held back with Mr. Blue.

Also, she didn’t want to grow the void between Meldrick and Mr. Blue if she was going to hire him, so she clarified, “My daughter and son-in-law, Nim and Soren, kidnapped him.”

“So it runs in the family?”

She laughed at the coincidence. Helping had never been called kidnapping before, but she saw his perspective. 

She hoped he would let her kidnap him, for the night, he week, whatever moments she had to fill. She wasn’t sure how long it would take to get to know him and understand the layers of flirting and teasing and heartache and loss. 

She wanted to. She wanted all of him. 

She brushed away the bond. Nevermind, you, she thought.

“It’s a terrible habit,” she noted. “We’ve even given him a room and a seat at the family dining table. He’s suffering incredibly.”

“He hasn’t robbed you?”

“Some people choose not to steal from the hand that feeds them,” she replied. She shrugged, “Also, I have no idea. He may have.”

“I hope so.”

She laughed; Jay seemed too sweet to steal. Too thankful.

His tone sank, enough to draw her in, closer to him and his lips as they formed the words, “Is your hand feeding me?”

She smiled, low and filling her chest with something new, “Perhaps for the night.”

“A night can last forever,” he replied.

She turned to face him and lifted her hand, slowly, tentatively, toward his chest, her fingers sliding up to his shoulder.

“Forever is a long time,” she teased.

She let the magic flow freely: gifting him the long lifespan of the fae. She felt magic pull from her position as queen, from the richness of her kingdom, through her and into him. She removed years of age, giving him time. Then, she gave him fire and water, the magics she was known to have. 

He placed his hand against hers, holding her there, “I’m not worried.”

She relaxed into him, and the hope that forever wouldn’t be interrupted too soon.

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