WeatherMaker Hearts Desire Prologue
Chapter 62: Sorrow and Heartache

Over the days that passed, Amaia was changing. She was slowly becoming the person Tristan thought her to be, happy and full of life. Over the days, she was showing her true personality, and so was he to her. She would lean out of the window and watch as Tristan would work in the garden at the back of the cottage, fighting to tame the overgrown bushes and tall grass that surrounded them. It was not something he normally did, being a prince, but he did it out of boredom, and later out of pride. Over the days that passed he began to help the servants more and more in their daily tasks around the old cottage. Growing up he had never done any form of cleaning, tidying or any job a woman or servant was expected to do. But now that he was doing it, he found he rather enjoyed it. Amaia would help him when she felt like it. Together they would help to paint different rooms in the cottage, replace ways to make the place look nice by adding decorations and fixing the furniture, dusting the old rooms and making them look new again. Amaia had requested some fresh paint and canvases, vases for flowers they would pick in the woods; and anything else that Tristan needed to travel for. He would be gone for days at a time, and in his absence, Amaia would replace that she missed him. When he would return, he would do so with a whole host of treasures. Paintings, decorations and ornaments, small carpets, cutlery and plates for the kitchen, pillows and blankets for the beds.

‘When are you next leaving?’ Amaia asked him eagerly one day.

‘Are you trying to get rid of me?’ Tristan laughed ruffling her hair.

‘No!’ she cried indignantly, slapping his hand and dancing away from him.

‘You just want more presents. Is that it?’

‘Yes!’ Amaia said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. ‘Hey!’ She said suddenly. ‘I know what would make this place feel more homely. A pet of some sorts.’

‘A pet?’

‘Yes.’

‘You have the horses.’

Amaia scoffed at that, making a face at him. ‘Horses are not a pet’ she frowned. ‘I want something I can fit on my lap. When I was young my friend and I would share a pet bird we found in the woods.’

‘Is that so’ Tristan said scratching his chin thoughtfully. ‘Well…we’re in the woods. Maybe you should start looking.’

‘Father!’ Amaia huffed moodily, planting her hands on her hips and glaring in amusement.

Tristan began to laugh at that. ‘Your mother does the exact same thing when she doesn’t get her way’ he said, ‘...which isn’t often enough’ he added under his breath. ‘Alright. I will get you a pet. What do you want?’

‘I don’t know really.’

‘How about a bird?’

‘I don’t want something caged.’

‘A dog then’ Tristan suggested. ‘Lots of people like dogs.’

‘Alright’ Amaia nodded growing excited. ‘A dog it is.’ She hugged herself suddenly, giggling in delight. ‘Oh I can’t wait!’

A few days later, one evening after Tristan had returned from being absent for several days, the four of them were sitting quietly in the living room before the burning hearth. The two servants resting with their eyes closed, Tristan reading a book, and Amaia sitting holding a little dog that slept on her lap. A grey coloured, long nosed skinny dog. The dog had instantly taken a liking to Amaia, and anyone else that came in his vicinity. Amaia had named him Markus.

‘You know’ Amaia spoke up, ‘this place is starting to feel like a home.’

Tristan closed the book with a smile, putting it down on his lap.

‘Good’ he said. ‘Are you happy here?’

‘Yes’ Amaia replied without a pause.

‘Good’ Tristan said again. ‘That makes me very happy.’

‘Father’ Amaia said glancing towards him. ‘Do you think we could stay here forever?’

Tristan fell silent at the thought. ‘You know, I never really thought about that.’

‘Do you think we could?’

‘I…don’t see why not. Things seem to be going well here. I don’t see there any need to leave.’

Amaia squeaked in delight, she rose to her feet, causing the sleeping dog to slide off her lap. She kissed Tristan on the cheek, before straightening again.

‘Thank you’ she said eagerly. ‘I’m going to bed now. Come Markus.’

The little dog pranced after her as she made her way upstairs. Her bedroom door closed and things became silent again.

‘Are we really to stay here?’ the younger servant asked Tristan.

‘Sure’ he said. ‘Why? Don’t you like it?’

‘I thought I would miss your other home’ the older said. ‘It was grander. But this place…’ she glanced about her. ‘It feels different. Better. More…homely.’

‘I agree’ the younger said. ‘I like it here. I would like to stay...if that is what you wish.’

‘It is’ Tristan sighed, leaning back and closing his eyes with a smile on his face. ‘Things are as they should be…at last.’

More days passed, and the four of them were slipping into a familiar routine each day. Tristan and Amaia would spend hours together; then they would go off and do their own thing, or spend some time alone. Tristan thought Amaia was happy, and when he asked her if she was, she would smile and agree.

But there were some times, when she thought he wasn’t watching, where she would look away into the distance with a glazed expression. She would look sad; even have tears in her eyes. After several days Tristan asked her what was bothering her, demanding her not to deny that something was wrong. Amaia eventually, reluctantly replied.

‘I miss White Feather.’

Tristan’s heart sank at hearing this.

‘Hey’ he said to her after a time. ‘I know what might cheer you up. How would you like to meet your brother?’

Amaia blinked at him. ‘Really?’ she said. ‘Do you mean it?’

‘Of course.’

‘When can I meet him?’

‘As soon as I can bring him back.’ Tristan leant forwards and kissed her forehead. ‘I will leave first thing in the morning.’

The next morning, as Tristan had promised, he was up early and ready to go. He went into Amaia’s room to wake her.

‘Having a lie in are we?’ he asked nudging her.

Amaia opened an eye, smiling up at him and wrapping the blankets tight around her.

‘Are you going now?’ she asked him.

‘Yes.’

‘Don’t be long’ she said, sitting up so she could hug him.

‘I’ll try not to be’ Tristan laughed as she hung off his neck.

He gave her a tight hug, and she lay back down on her bed with Markus curled up by her belly.

‘Goodbye Amaia’ he said to her.

‘Goodbye father.’

‘Try to be awake when I get back.’

‘I’ll not promise’ she laughed, snuggling in the blankets again and hiding Markus beneath the sheets to keep him warm.

Tristan left the room, feeling a warm glow in his heart. He left the small cottage and mounted his horse, which had already been saddled up and carried food and supplies for the journey.

He travelled swiftly, wasting little time and resting only when he had to. It seemed that in no time at all, he was at his large home again, the one north of the town of Blackrain. It was a long journey.

‘Where do you keep disappearing off to?’ Olithia asked the second he had entered the door. It was as if she had been keeping a look out for him. ‘If I didn’t know better’ Olithia went on, ‘I would say that you’ve got another little woman hidden somewhere. Are you cheating on me?’

‘Don’t tempt me’ Tristan scoffed. ‘I’ve been busy doing things, nothing that concerns you.’

‘Oh?’

‘Where’s Alan?’

‘He’s out hunting. He brought home a fine boar the other day. A large beast it was.’

‘Do you know when he will be back?’ Tristan asked.

‘Sometime tomorrow’ she said. ‘Looks like it’s just the two of us’ she added seductively.

He strode away from her before she could say another word.

A short time later, he sat at a desk in the master bedroom, writing several letters to several of his brothers explaining his absence, lying in every sentence near enough. It was a boring task, as he had so many brothers.

‘Too many…’ he grumbled under his breath, huffing as he dabbed the tip of the quill back into the ink pot and continued to write.

Minutes later, and the door to the bedroom opened.

Tristan glanced up with disinterest only briefly, seeing Olithia standing in the doorway, wearing a robe and leaning against the doorframe. He returned his attention back to the letters.

Olithia sauntered into the room, reaching out to him as she did so, and running her fingers through his hair as she went by.

Tristan put down the quill, sitting back in his chair and staring up at the ceiling. Olithia leant over him from behind. Holding his face in her hands and kissing him. He kissed her back.

She ran her hands over his body, over his shoulders and down his arms, beneath his shirt and over his chest and lower, reaching far beneath his belt.

Tristan made a sigh of pleasure, closing his eyes as his wife touched him. She stopped suddenly, withdrawing her hand and moving back.

Tristan opened his eyes again, looking forward towards the wall.

He turned his head towards Olithia, seeing her standing there with her robe hanging open. He saw that she was naked underneath.

Never taking his eyes off her, he rose slowly to his feet, moving closer. She smiled at him seductively, knowing that he wanted her. He grabbed her roughly with a predatory lust, kissing her deeply and running his hands over her naked skin to all places.

He stepped forwards, pushing her back onto the bed and moving on top of her.

She laughed as he bit her neck and shoulders, knowing she could control him, knowing he was in her power then. His teeth sunk hard into her skin, causing her to bleed. She did not seem to notice, but attacked him back with the same primal fury, clawing at his chest in her haste to get his clothes off, scratching him; cutting him.

Tristan pushed her forcefully down, before straightening and unbuckling his belt. Seconds later, he moved towards her again, bearing down on her and kissing her, as his hand moved between her legs.

Olithia tensed suddenly, throwing her head back and moaning in pleasure and Tristan thrust forwards, each taking their pleasure from the other.

When he had finished, he pulled away from her, rolling onto his back and lying beside her, breathing heavily as she did.

Olithia beside him sighed in contentment, smiling up at the ceiling. She giggled then, hand going to her mouth. She rolled over on her side, caressing Tristan and rubbing her hand over his chest as she lay propped up on an elbow.

She leant forward to kiss him, but Tristan turned his head away from her, to face the wall instead.

She smirked at this, running her hand down his body and between his legs, clutching at him firmly. Tristan flinched slightly, but did nothing.

She giggled again, kissing him on the cheek swiftly before getting up to leave.

Olithia closed the door behind her, leaving Tristan alone.

He grabbed the sheet beside him and pulled it over to cover his body, waiting for sleep to come to him, and feeling thoroughly unsatisfied.

The next day, at midday, Alan returned.

‘How was the hunt?’ Tristan asked him when he entered the room.

‘Fruitful’ Alan nodded, but did not elaborate.

‘Do you fancy another long ride?’ Tristan asked him.

‘What for?’

‘We’re going to meet your sister.’

Alan hesitated, becoming uncertain. ‘That’s where you’ve been all this time’ he said to his father. ‘You’ve found her.’

‘I have.’

‘What’s she like?’

‘You’ll know when you see her’ Tristan said. ‘When are you ready to leave?’

‘Now.’

‘Good.’

‘What about mother’ Alan asked. ‘Is she coming?’

‘I….don’t know. I’m worried she will cause problems. Last time she met Amaia…’

‘I wasn’t there last time she met Amaia’ Alan finished. ‘Things will be different this time, I promise. You know you can’t keep mother away forever. If you invite her, she will be a lot more complacent.’

‘I suppose you’re right.’

‘She’ll be thrilled when I tell her’ Alan said.

‘I don’t doubt’ Tristan replied dryly, his tone unconvinced.

And so, when Tristan returned to the little cottage in the woods many days later, he did so with not one, but two figures that accompanied him. His son Alan and his wife Olithia.

‘Now Olithia’ Tristan said carefully to her. ‘Amaia is only expecting me to return with Alan. She must be nervous enough as it is, so I am going first alone to tell her that I’m back; then I’m going to introduce Alan, and then you. Do you understand?’

‘Yes’ Olithia smiled sweetly back at him.

The many long hours of riding on horseback for days on end had not fazed her or seemed to have tired her in the least. Not even sleeping out in the wilderness. It was as if she thrived in the challenge.

Tristan turned away from her uncertainly, leaving his wife and son to wait in the woods a short distance from the cottage, while he went to inform Amaia of his return.

He came back to them minutes later, and left again with Alan following after him. Olithia waited patiently.

Amaia sat nervously just outside the door of the cottage for her brother to appear, seated on a wooden bench in the garden that was now well tended and beautiful. In her arms she held some gifts she had made for her brother. A handful of beautiful and unusual flowers she had picked deep in the woods, they were tied together with brown string. And sweets she had made herself. They were chewy on the outside, with sweet liquid in the middle, and were dusted with sugar. She rose as Tristan reappeared; walking behind him was another figure.

He was a large figure, built like an ox with muscular shoulders and beefy arms. He was taller than Tristan. There was not much resemblance between the two, but as Amaia watched them approach, she saw their mannerisms were alike. The way they walked, the expressions they gave. Tristan stopped before her smiling.

‘Amaia’ he said. ‘This is Alan your brother.’

Amaia glanced nervously up at him. He was an intimidating looking figure who towered over her, wearing light leather armour that was well worn, and a sword at his side. Amaia felt a twinge of nervousness at that, wondering if they were expecting to be attacked. She gazed back at his large profile, thinking that he could snap her like a twig if he wanted. But another thought quickly followed that one. He could surely overpower any other man with ease, including his father, including anyone who might want to harm them.

‘Alan’ Tristan said to him. ‘This is your sister Amaia.’

‘Hello’ Alan said.

‘I…hello’ Amaia replied nervously. ‘I brought you come gifts.’

‘I don’t like sweets’ Alan said instantly.

Amaia faltered. She waited uncertainly.

Alan reached towards her, pulling one of the flowers tied in the bundle. He brought it to his face, smelling the sweet scent.

‘I love this flower’ he said. ‘It’s one of my favourites.’ He kindly smiled down at her, offering the flower back. ‘Come with me’ he said. ‘Let’s walk in the woods where these flowers grow. Let’s talk and catch up on all the years we’ve missed.’

Tristan took the gifts from her as she made to leave. He gave her an encouraging wink as she went. Alan offered Amaia his arm, and together they walked away from the cottage and into the woods.

‘I think they will get along just fine’ a voice said from behind Tristan.

‘I told you to wait’ Tristan glowered at Olithia as she came out of hiding.

‘No you didn’t’ Olithia replied teasingly. ‘You said no such thing. You said you will introduce Alan first, then me. You said nothing at all about waiting.’

‘You know what I meant’ Tristan scowled.

‘I did’ Olithia said, coming to stand beside him. ‘And I didn’t let her see me, did I?’

Tristan turned away from her resentfully, unable to think of anything to say in response. So he said nothing.

It was several hours later when Amaia and Alan returned, and when they did, they both seemed happy. And then Olithia introduced herself to Amaia, speaking over Tristan as he was about to do so.

Olithia smiled at Amaia. ‘I’m sure we will get on well together’ she said.

It was many weeks that the family lived at the cottage together. Despite having lived for so many years in large and lush halls with numerous servants, all of them fit well into the tiny cottage with only two servants, and Amaia found that she was feeling more at home here than she had anywhere in years. She was growing accustomed to the people that lived with her now, and they all started feeling like a family to her. Even Olithia.

Over the days that passed, Amaia regularly used her magic. For fun, or for practical purposes. She would help to light fires, warm rooms, grow flowers, and used her magic to make it rain. Other times, she would play games to make the others rejoice. She one day made it snow indoors. Another day she created the most beautiful displays of light in the night’s sky. For a short time, Amaia felt nervous for using her magic, in case someone came to take her away from this good life. As had happened before. But the more she used her magic and nothing happened, the more she wanted to use it. For the longest time things went well. And then one day, Alan was called away.

Amaia went downstairs several days after that to replace Olithia sitting at the kitchen table; her face looked as if it were carved out of stone, and Tristan, just stood in the middle of the kitchen, staring at nothing.

‘Father?’ Amaia asked him uncertainly. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Amaia.’ Tristan turned to her. ‘Your brother’s dead.’