Eryshae

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Sam

Elder Cherry stood in the doorway with impeccable timing, expression politely neutral but her eyes alight with mirth. Vael scrambled off Sam's lap, color blooming high in her cheeks. "Elder Cherry. I; ah. You came."

"I was told the Lady Vael requested my presence," Cherry said, voice calm, hands clasped. "Though I suspect I may have interrupted something sacred." Sam cleared his throat, trying to compose himself as he rose. "No interruption. Just… a conversation."

"With lips?" Elder Cherry quipped gently. Vael smoothed her robes, clearly mortified, but a smile tugged at her lips. "Well. We are engaged."

"And I am an herbalist, not a chaperone." Elder Cherry arched a brow. "Shall we talk?" Sam, still recovering from Elder Cherry's appearance, cleared his throat and stood.

"Please," he said to Vael, gesturing to the chair he had just been lounging in. "It suits you better." Vael gave him a sly glance, but there was a quiet gratitude in her eyes as she settled into the chair; her favorite, she had said earlier, now warmed by his presence.

Then Sam moved with calm purpose to the other side of the chamber and pulled out a chair for Elder Cherry. "Elder," he said with respectful warmth. She smiled faintly, her ever-watchful eyes softening as she took the seat with a small nod of approval. Sam didn't return to Vael's velvet chair. Instead, he grabbed a simple seat nearby and pulled it up beside Vael, placing himself just between her and the Elder; near enough to touch, but still attentive. He sat, one arm resting loosely on his knee.

His eyes shifted toward Elder Cherry, thoughtful. "If I may… how much do you know of the Court's workings? The alliances, the; " A hand touched his arm.

Vael.

She reached across to rest her fingers gently on the bioluminescent bands glowing beneath his skin. The light pulsed faintly, reacting to her warmth. Her voice was soft, coaxing; tender, not scolding. "Not now," she said with a small smile, her eyes locking with his. "I didn't ask Elder Cherry here for politics." Sam's gaze lingered on her for a beat longer. Then he gave a faint nod, the tension in his shoulders easing at the sound of her voice.

Vael turned to the Elder. "I asked you here for a different reason. I'd like you to hear Sam's story." Elder Cherry regarded them both with quiet composure. "Then I shall listen."

Silence settled in the antechamber like dusk settling through a forest canopy. Elder Cherry studied him for a long moment, her hands folded in her lap, eyes deep with thought. The weight of her years and wisdom pressed gently into the space between them.

Vael's hands were wrapped around Sam's now, fingers intertwined. She hadn't let go once since he began to speak. Elder Cherry's gaze shifted down to where their hands joined. "May I?"

Sam glanced at Vael, who gave him the faintest nod. He turned his hand palm-up, and concentrated. From each fingertip, a vine tendril slowly emerged; delicate, green, pulsing faintly with life. They unfurled like petals touched by sunlight, their ends twitching softly as if sensing the air.

Elder Cherry leaned forward, eyes narrowing in focused observation. "Living essence… channeled directly. No blood magic. No catalyst." Her voice was hushed, reverent. "You don't wield nature. You are nature."

And then, Vael's engagement ring flared to life. A brilliant glow radiated from the etched wood and crystal, the light mirrored in Sam's vines. Vael gasped softly and looked down at her hand. "It reacts to you," she whispered. "To us." The vines curled affectionately around her fingers, wrapping her engagement ring in a living halo. Elder Cherry gave a single, slow nod. "The roots approve, indeed."

Elder Cherry extended her hand slowly, fingers outstretched. "May I examine them more closely?" she asked, her voice low and respectful. Sam hesitated; but only for a heartbeat. He gave a small nod. As Elder Cherry's hand drew near, the tendrils shifted.

At first, they remained calm, curious; until her fingertips came within inches of Vael's hand. Suddenly, a ripple passed through the vines. Sharp thorns sprouted along their length, unfolding with a subtle, sinister grace. The movement was instinctive, protective; feral. The tendrils tightened around Vael's fingers, forming a spined barrier between her skin and Elder Cherry's approaching touch.

Elder Cherry froze mid-reach, eyes wide; not in fear, but fascination. Vael inhaled, startled by the sudden shift. "Sam; " "I didn't do that," he said quickly, his voice tight with surprise. "They're… acting on their own."

Elder Cherry slowly withdrew her hand, folding it back into her lap. "No, they're not," she said softly. "They're acting on your subconscious. On your will, and your bond with Vael. This is not simple druidcraft, Sam Faeloc. This is soul-bound essence… and it's guarding what it deems most precious."

The thorns remained for a few long seconds, then, as if sensing the danger had passed, they began to recede. The vines relaxed, the tension easing from Sam's hand as the tendrils slowly smoothed back to gentle coils.

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Vael exhaled. "They were… protecting me." Sam looked down at their hands, his voice barely audible. "They're part of me. And so are you." Elder Cherry smiled faintly, something knowing flickering in her eyes. "Then I believe the Eryshae made the right choice."

A knock at the door pulled them gently back to the present. "Apologies, your grace," came a voice through the thick wood ; a guard's voice, firm yet respectful. "The recess ends in five minutes. The full sixty is nearly up."

Vael closed her eyes for a breath, collecting herself. "Thank you," she called back, her tone once more composed, queenly. Footsteps retreated down the hall.

Vael looked from the door to Elder Cherry, then down at her hand still held in Sam's. "We'll need to return soon." Elder Cherry gave a small, approving nod. "Let them see you like this. Anchored. Chosen." She rose carefully, hands brushing the folds of her robe. "Come what may in the chamber… you walk in stronger than you left it."

Sam stood and offered his arm to Vael with quiet gravity. She took it, heart steadying with the warmth of his touch. The vines at his fingertips had vanished, but their memory lingered; a living promise.

Elder Cherry's eyes twinkled as she adjusted the sleeves of her robe, her gaze flicking between the pair. "Well," she said, smoothing her voice into something arch and amused, "I believe I've seen what I came to see; and then some."

Vael's head snapped toward her, eyes wide. "Elder!" Cherry lifted a graceful hand, already turning toward the door. "Say no more, child. I'm old, not blind. And frankly, it's about time the Court had something worth whispering about." Vael blushed fiercely, the color blooming like fire beneath her skin. Sam didn't help matters; he gave her a slow, cheeky grin, entirely pleased with himself.

Cherry paused at the threshold, giving them both a sly look over her shoulder. "Take a moment, lovebirds. Compose yourselves. I'll return to the chamber and make sure the vultures stay circling politely." And with that, the door closed behind her, the soft click leaving a heavy silence; warm, charged, and theirs.

Vael buried her face in Sam's chest, mortified. "She's never going to let me live this down." Sam laughed under his breath, the sound rumbling through her. "No," he said, pressing a kiss to her hair, "but I might."

As the door clicked shut behind Elder Cherry, Vael let out a long, shaky breath. She slipped out of Sam's arms, still pink from embarrassment, but a little smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

Without a word, she crossed to the velvet chair; her favorite. Her fingers moved with practiced ease, brushing along the carved edge of the armrest until she found the nearly invisible groove. She pressed in. A soft click sounded, and the seat of the chair popped up slightly. Vael lifted it, revealing a hidden compartment beneath the velvet cushion. Inside was an ornate wooden box, worn smooth by time and love. The lid was carved with curling designs of vines and leaves.

Sam tilted his head, watching her, quiet and reverent. Vael opened the box gently. Inside rested a ring; silverwood banded with obsidian, and set with a deep green gem that seemed to hum faintly, pulsing with life like the heart of the forest. It was not new, but it was well-kept, its age only deepening its beauty.

"This ring belonged to my father," she said, her voice hushed, almost fragile in the silence between them. "My mother had it made for him when they were engaged. It was the only thing he wore with pride before their wedding. She told me that when the time came, I would know who it belonged to next."

She turned to Sam, holding the open box out between her hands. "I know now," she said. "It's yours… if you'll wear it. Not just as my fiancé, but as someone I trust; with everything." Sam stared at the ring, then at her, then back again. His glowing fingers hovered above it.

"You're giving me your father's ring?" he asked softly, voice tight with the weight of what it meant. "I'm giving you my ring," Vael said, her gaze steady. "Because it was always meant for the one who could walk beside me, not behind me."

Sam reached out, his fingertips glowing brighter as they touched the ring. He lifted it with care, reverence in every motion. "Then I'll wear it," he whispered. "And honor the love it came from; and the love it's come to."

He slid it onto his finger. The green gem pulsed once, in perfect harmony with the light glowing softly from his hand. Vael exhaled, the tension breaking from her shoulders. And for a moment, there was only the two of them, standing in the stillness, their futures intertwined.

The ring sat snug on Sam's finger, the green gem still softly aglow. Vael's hand found his, fingers intertwining as if they'd always known how. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, then drew in a breath, gathering herself back into the mantle of the Eryshae. "I suppose we should return," she said softly, though her eyes lingered on him a moment longer than necessary; full of warmth, and something deeper.

Sam nodded. "Ready when you are, my Queen." Vael's eyes smoldered as she stepped in close, her voice a low, velvet murmur. "Careful," she breathed, lips brushing the edge of his ear. "Keep calling me that… and I might need to ravish you tonight." A slow smile tugged at Sam's lips. He reached up, fingers grazing along her jaw, tender and deliberate, before trailing down the curve of her neck, her shoulder, and finally slipping into her hand. He gave it a soft squeeze; steady, grounding. Their eyes met. The fire between them was undeniable. He gave her a grin, but said nothing; just lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Then, together, they crossed to the door.

Kinan stood ready outside, flanked by two guards, his face impassive but his eyes bright with unsaid things. He gave a formal nod. "Court is reconvened. All factions are present," he said. "The final vote awaits." Vael inclined her head. "Thank you, Kinan. Let's not keep them waiting."

The heavy doors opened once more, and Vael stepped into the great chamber at Sam's side. The murmurs of the gathered Cardinals hushed immediately. All eyes turned to her; not as a symbol, but as something more. Something earned.

She paused at the top of the dais, her hand still linked with Sam's, and let her gaze sweep the chamber. There was an energy in the air now; something expectant, charged, and rooted not in fear but in change.

Vael stepped forward alone and lifted her voice. "The recess has ended. The Eryshae calls this Court to order." Her voice rang with authority, warm and commanding; the voice of a woman who had chosen love without sacrificing her power.

"There is business to attend," she continued, her tone crisp. "When the final vote is cast," Vael added, eyes narrowing with conviction, "we will decide the future of this land not out of fear; but from wisdom, unity, and the roots that bind us." The Court sat silent a moment longer; and then, one by one, the Cardinals began to rise to their feet.

A slow ripple of approval spread through the hall. "Guardians of the Tribe," Elder Cherry murmured first. "Guardians of the Tribe," the Cardinals echoed, louder this time; not rote, but reverent. Vael's heart beat like thunder. Sam's fingers laced tighter around hers. The tide was turning. The Court stood ready to vote not as fractured factions, but as one.