Ash

Chapter 1 of Act 2 of "Obsidian and Flame"

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If you’re new to The Môrdreigiau Chronicles, welcome! You might find the Glossary helpful for some of these words. Colons indicate the sea dragon’s thought communications.

Obsidian and Flame chronicles the story of Panawr, a sea dragon prince with a deadly secret, and Arddun, who possesses a useless gift and has no desire to marry a prince. When they come together, sparks fly, but they grow aware that something more is at stake than the throne. Can they save their home, Caer Morgana, or will their quest be in vain?

In “Act One: Obsidian”, Panawr has managed to keep his deadly secret. He began his campaign to become the Esteemed by helping fellow dreigiau môr with their justice issues—and also used the role of Advocate to put his youngest sister in prison for theft. The Esteemed, his step-mother, had a health incident. He and Arddun have this spiky relationship and discovered that they met as children. Arddun is wondering whether she’s made a mistake helping Panawr …

…

Indeg’s eyebrow quirked upward. :I thought you had no interest in marrying into the royal family.:

:That’s true.: Arddun winced. She had protested over Indeg’s handfasting. Her stomach roiled. Had she been wrong to assist Panawr? To run after him like that? Had he even told her the truth about the Lady’s curse upon the caer? Indeg was right to remind her of her resolve not to become involved with the royal family. She was supposed to be protecting her sister, not causing problems like encouraging Panawr’s fantasies. She felt sick. :You’re right. I think I’ve made a mistake there.:

Cynwal entered. His golden yellow robe seemed faded, matching the weariness in his every step.

:Any news on your mother?: Arddun asked, unsure whether her question would be well received.

Cynwal wiped a hand over his mouth. :The Chief Healer says—: He paused. :You can’t share this with anyone. It stays in this room.:

Arddun nodded.

:She’s been ill for a while. The Chief Healer says she will continue to slowly decline.: He bowed. :Excuse me, I have some business to attend to.:

Arddun gathered a glass and a bottle of medd reismôr from the sideboard and headed for her bedchamber.

After she’d drunk half the bottle, she looked up to find Indeg standing in her doorway. :How much have you had?: her sister asked.

Arddun raised her bottle. :I plan to drink all of this and perhaps a second. Drown my errors and start over. Be a better sister.:

Indeg glanced over her shoulder toward the bedroom she shared with Cynwal. :We’re expecting guests. Cynwal wants to figure out how to free Morfudd.:

It figured that Cynwal wanted to rescue rather than condemn Morfudd. Why couldn’t Panawr be more like that?

Indeg leaned against the doorjamb, a picture of composed loveliness in her rose-pink robes. :I don’t want you making a scene.:

Arddun pointed at herself. :Me? I’m a lovely drunkard.:

:No. You’re not.: Indeg grabbed a bottle from the sideboard and tucked it into Arddun’s capacious pocket-sleeve. :Go. Find a quiet place in the gardens.:

Arddun stood on the edge of the palace gardens, reviewing her options. Not the solar. It would spoil the chilled beverage. The grotto then. It had the added benefit of being hidden from prying eyes.

She descended to the lowest part of the gardens. Whoever had designed the grotto had created an enormous alcove, almost a cave, with various kinds of seaweeds descending from the ceiling in long strands.

She stepped inside the grotto and paused, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the sudden gloom. By a clump of coral at the far edge of the grotto, sat a draig môr with his back to her.

She edged forward. Light shone over her shoulder, making the draig môr’s robe sparkle. The long, narrow column of black hair down his back confirmed it.

Panawr.

Her grip tightened on the bottle. She had absolutely no desire to keep his company, nor he hers. He’d made that plain. But if she got him drunk, his guard would lower and he would tell her the truth for once.

She strode in. He sat on a boulder at a small round table. She sat on another boulder across from his. :You need to find somewhere else to drink.: She placed her bottle on the table with a decisive clunk.

Panawr scowled. :I was here first. Why can’t you drink in your bedchamber?:

:My sister wanted me out.: Arddun decided not to reveal why. She squinted at him in the gloom. :Why aren’t you in your chambers? You don’t share them with anybody.:

:None of your business.: His words slurred. He glared at her chin. He leaned an elbow on the table, pouring himself another drink.

She caught the heady honeyed scent of the medd used at solstice and festivals.

Good. At least she didn’t have to get him drunk. He’d done that for her. :You seek oblivion,: she observed.

:I’m celebrating.: With a grimace, he downed the glass, tilting back his head to catch every last drop.

She watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. Needing to look elsewhere, Arddun poured herself a glass of medd reismôr. She sipped the milky liquor, feeling its familiar warmth burn her throat.

Panawr observed her between long, slow blinks. :I didn’t expect this of you.: He wiped his lips, smoothing his short beard.

She gulped her mead and poured another glass. :Why wouldn’t I drink? I have every right. I can hold it, you know.:

:Mmmhmm.:

By that Arddun knew her cheeks rendered pink even in this dim light, if not as pink as his. :Just let me drink in peace.: She drank and wriggled her empty glass at him. :Aren’t you drinking?:

He turned his upper body away from hers and took a sip. Rolling her eyes, she also turned away from him, pouring another glass. Ignoring each other, they each finished a bottle. Arddun fished her second bottle out of her pocket sleeve. Panawr produced one of his own.

She paused in pouring another drink to observe him. His shoulders hunched as he rolled the glass between his fingers. His short and aggressive sips punctuated the glowering he cast at his glass.

Finally, she spoke, her words slurring. :You should be smiling and celebrating with your friends. Why are you sitting here all alone?:

His lip curled. :Like you care.:

She shrugged, taking another sip. :You found a vocation in advocation.: She giggled at her own rhyme. Panawr gave his head a slow shake. :Lucky you—but you’re throwing it all away for a title.:

Panawr’s brow creased, his lips forming a small pout. He adjusted his position to face her. :I had no choice but to act. Morfudd was about to take me out of the running. Permanently.:

:What do you mean?: Did he tell the truth? Gazing into his dark eyes, did she care? The medd reismôr begged her to believe him.

:As you predicted, my standing has grown among the people.:

:Not that.: She shook her head and waved her hand at him in sozzled confusion. :The permanently part.:

:There was to be an accident. That’s all you need to know. In this family, you always keep certain materials in case of such attacks. I’ve known about Morfudd’s thefts for a while. I didn’t need to use that information until now.:

Arddun swallowed a mouthful of medd reismôr. :Careful, or I’ll start believing you have a heart. Then I’ll be really sad because—: She swayed, slowly blinking at him. Was he a better person than Indeg and the whole caer thought him to be? :I’m not worth your time and attention.:

Panawr slumped forward, resting his chin on his fist. :Not in this state,: he affably agreed.

She peered at him through the gloom and alcohol. :See?: She tossed the contents of her glass down her throat.

Panawr followed suit and leaned forward, almost parallel with the table’s surface. :Why do you think you’re not worth—:

Arddun bent over, almost nose to nose with him. She rapped him on the knuckles. :You just agreed with me. You should know.:

:Perhaps you’re wrong. I am still here, drinking and talking with you. :

:Lady knows why. You won’t be after I tell you—shh!: She shushed herself, finger to her lips. :I can’t tell you. Can’t have any weaknesses in the palace.: She pointed at his glass. :Drink, drink. Celebrate.: Her last words dripped with sarcasm.

:Arddun.:

She swayed in the current. She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of his growl, or if she liked it very much. :If you’re done drinking, then at least let me drink.: She pouted and wagged her finger at him. :Stop asking questions.:

Sighing, Panawr filled their glasses, taking some of her medd reismôr. :Why am I doing this?:

:I heard that.: Arddun watched him sip before downing her cup. She bent forward and whispered her thought. :I have a gift.:

He frowned, confused. :Everyone does.:

She shook her head and caught the table’s edge before she lost balance. :I don’t know what it’s for. Can’t figure out how to use it.: Her gills flared open in a long sigh. :What use am I to anybody?:

Panawr covered her clenched fist with his hand. :You have been helpful to me.:

She delivered a wobbly smile. :That’s true. It’s not my gift, but that’s true. Not that I’m thrilled with how it’s turned out.: Quick as lightning, she poured more medd reismôr. :Congratulations, Panawr.:

She drank. She rested her chin on her palm, staring at him. Her eyes crossed, her elbow slipped and her head went crashing to the table.

Panawr slid his hand between her head and the hard table just in time. She beamed at him and closed her eyes.

Adjusting the angle of his arm to be more comfortable, Panawr settled in for a long wait. He gazed at Arddun’s face, his head sinking down to rest on his forearm.

Arddun leaned against the doorway of Indeg’s and Cynwal’s bedchamber. Her sister sat at her dressing table, selecting a piece of jewellery to wear. She looked up at Arddun through the mirror. :Are you going to the tournament?:

Arddun shrugged. She didn’t want to encounter Panawr after that night in the grotto. She had woken to find his face a handspan from hers. Her heart had thumped hard and she’d fled. She kept her thought casual. :Watching drills sounds boring.:

:Oh but there’s going to be a competition. Even Cynwal is joining in. He’s warming up right now.: Indeg’s beatific grin and sparkling eyes met hers via the mirror.

Arddun straightened up at that. :Are you sure that’s wise? He’s with child.:

:Nothing can talk him out of it,: Indeg bubbled. :He says it’s early enough that the child oughtn’t be affected. He’s not even showing yet. His healer agrees that all will be well.: Despite her enthusiasm, a little line marred Indeg’s forehead.

Arddun swallowed. Did Panawr know his brother had joined the competition? He couldn’t allow his brother to win, but would he hurt him? Morfudd had forced his hand, but Cynwal had done nothing beyond shining as the golden prince.

She managed a smile. :Shall we go together then? Sounds like you’ll need someone to hold your hand.:

Indeg beamed. :He’s promised to surrender whenever I tell him it’s too much.:

Arddun hoped he would.

Can we agree that that’s probably not going to end well? What resonated or sparkled in this episode for you? Any questions? Come share them in the Comments section on the app/website.

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