The Coronation of Queen Honoria ni Varich

     The High Lord of house Varich had every reason to be puffed with pride as he watched his house’s only princess accept her crown and title as queen. When he offered the light crown to her liege lord, the demon Rahzel, he felt no loss in not crowning her. This was the woman his house had offered shelter to, had accepted, and had fought to keep. Honoria Wingate-Foster ni Varich was the jewel in his house’s coat of arms, and now she was his only queen. That thought alone made him smile when she rose before her subjects as their newly coronated queen.

     However, the thought of what was going on behind her glazed lavender eyes was what kept his face sober and his brow creased. Varich knew very well that Honoria had never desired power, and here he was, pushing her to take her throne. When the High King of Concordia had slowly licked her blood from the razor-sharp quill used to sign the decree of her sovereignity, he had felt the first twinges of foreboding. As Firedrake, King of Willows slipped her a cold iron dagger, whispering that every monarch should have one, Varich felt his jaw clench. The party celebrating her coronation swirled about the throne where she sat, cold and remote, her eyes looking through the walls to some haven he couldn’t imagine.

     No…Varich did not feel very good about any of this.

     He felt even worse later, as the coronation party swelled and commoners laughed and wandered about the lavish ballroom. She sat on her throne, like a perfect queen doll, and gazed at the wall across from her. The High King David perched on a footstool by her, holding one still hand and murmuring softly to her. Crimson eyes glinted in the darkness of her throne, and the chimerical knight Chronos stood at attention behind her. She did not react to David’s whispered comments, nor did she react to the scent of the wine he passed under her nose. Varich watched all of this with tight lips, and moved to discuss tactics with Bertram, a weak attempt to distract himself.

     When the first dance was announced, and the High King took her hand to pull Queen Honoria to her feet, Varich felt a chill. They danced together beautifully. David showed the grace which had always kept him alive in sword fights, and Honoria glided along as if she was on air. Her back was perfectly rigid, her head held high, and she was completely expressionless. Although they made the perfect picture of royal sidhe, Varich still felt uneasy. Only when Marius spoke to the playing satyrs and Rahzel, Honoria’s demonic liege lord moved in to replace David as her partner did Varich’s breath ease a bit. When the demon’s arms slid around her, the sidhe queen’s demeanor changed. She leaned much more heavily on him, her eyes half closing, and they spoke softly as they danced. As Varich himself stepped forward for the third dance, he saw how wearily she moved, and was struck by a feeling of pity. He supported her as much as he could, and drew Honoria close enough for her to rest her weight against his chest.

     "You look exhausted," he said quietly.

     "I feel exhausted," she replied, swishing her long skirt out of the way. "Really, really exhausted."

     Varich stroked her hand, guiding her through a turn. "Did Jonas manage to take that cold iron dagger?"

     She nodded. "When I left to…use the bathroom." Her glazed eyes slid over his shoulder, seeking the demon out of the crowd of fae. "I didn’t want it, even if most monarchs do carry one."

     "You don’t have to keep it. I bear one because I…" Varich paused as they moved, trying to find a pleasant way to phrase it. He couldn’t, so he was simply blunt. "Because I’ve killed sluagh with it before."

     Her head came up, and her confused lavender eyes met his. "You’ve slain other fae with cold iron?"

     Varich nodded, his face grim. "There’s no use denying it. I have, and I did it happily." He sighed softly, squeezing her hand lightly. "I know it’s probably upsetting to know that, and I haven’t slain another fae with cold iron in over two thousand years. The Dreaming has…punished me for that, and I took it, knowing that it was only what I deserved." The ancient lord looked haunted for a moment as he gently led her around the dance floor.

     Honoria looked at Varich for a moment, then sighed quietly. "It’s okay. I’ve…killed other fae, too. Not with cold iron, because I didn’t have it, but if I had, I would have used it."

     Varich smiled at her, pressing her hand again. "All of us have moments like that." His eyes were darting around the room, searching for Honoria’s next partner. He could see David poised to swoop in and take his place, and one thing Varich wanted at the moment was distance between the High King and the new queen. When Luther shifted his weight, Varich relaxed. Before David could completely leave his seat, Luther was accepting Honoria’s hand from Varich and drawing her into his arms. The High Lord moved to the sidelines, watching them while keeping David in the corner of his eye. Honoria seemed to float as Luther glided about the floor. With every turn and stride, the vampire looked more and more elegant, and Varich noted the mag

e snapping a handful of pictures. As the music played on, the queen seemed to wilt, her head resting on Luther’s shoulder, and as the final notes faded, he seemed to whisper something. As David scurried over, looking very undignified in his rapid movement, she slumped entirely. David said something to Luther, reaching for Honoria, but the vampire simply lifted her into his arms and strode from the room, followed closely by the chimerical knight who glared David away from the door.

     "What happened, Varich?" Enki’s voice was perky, but tinged with concern as he leaned over his lord’s shoulder.

     "I think the night finally caught up with her, dear." Varich frowned as he observed David’s discomfiture. "And something else has finally caught up with David," he murmured to himself. The High King, left standing in the middle of the ballroom like some foolish young suitor, shot an oddly hostile look towards Rahzel before leaving the room abruptly. Varich sighed heavily, not even smiling at Enki’s concerned hand on his shoulder.

     "Are you all right, lord?" Enki leaned a bit closer, reaching for a goblet of ice water to offer it.

     "Yes, Enki," Varich said quietly, his black eyes resting on the door. "I just feel that we’ve opened a Pandora’s box of wyrms here…and I don’t know how to close it."