Dance

Arawn felt ridiculous saying it, like some lovestruck youngster, but he’d meant it. Seeing Sirona with these people, speaking with them, gave him a bit of joy simply watching her. He had no desire to interact with these people more than he had to as he sipped his wine and watched them share food around the campfire.
They told her about the villages they were from and pointed out the constellations in the sky. Sirona drew in their knowledge of the stars like a child and laughed at nearly every joke even if Arawn was sure she didn’t get them.
For the most part, the people avoided him. They seemed to understand that their job, at the moment, was to entertain Sirona and to leave him be.
After all, it was not his will that they were here, it was Sirona’s. If they were believers in his cult, then they knew that Arawn didn’t expect worship from them or daily prayers, but a passing belief that there was a plan, good or bad.
He watched the energies drifting through the air and how they all seemed so focused on Sirona, feeding her brilliance with their hopes and dreams. She was like a beacon in the night and that was a troubling thought.
Sirona was a troubling existence for him. She was named after the stars, but her name was so much more complicated than that. Whoever had named her had been inspired. He would bet that she had been named by her divine parent, whoever they were. Was it a warning? A blessing? It was so oddly fitting for this woman who seemed to be a guiding light and capable of such destruction.
For a moment, he saw a brilliant star like another sun in the night twinkling in the sky before streaking into the distance towards the ground. The glow of the Tara River was snuffed out as it landed and tore through the mountains on Anu’s side of the river headed towards the capital of Conna. It dug a deep valley in Berth and obliterated the forests on the southern side of Conna before cutting a path through the rest of the kingdom. The trees burned. Animals scattered and an almost dizzying sense of pleasure rushed through him. The power of the star was dazzling.
He heard Anu’s cry of agony, screeching in the wind and triumph filled him. The vision began to fade as he heard Sirona laughing. Her potential meant she could be that star of destruction, but her preoccupation with being a guiding light and a beacon of hope for people was not conducive to his plan. Hope wasn’t going to take care of Anu. Sure, it was good that she was garnering a type of faith with these people, faith in Sirona’s empathy towards them, but that faith wasn’t strong enough for what she wanted to do and what Arawn needed her to do.
Her charisma was useful, but Sirona couldn’t sit down and have a late-night meal with music with Anu and charm her out of her vicious ways. Anu reveled in her need for control and gloried in the fear she instilled in people.
There was no befriending Anu. Death was the only option.
Arawn considered the growth in her powers and shook his head. He’d pulled her along faster than he first thought possible in her sword training and her control over her magic. She wasn’t strong enough to kill Anu yet, but she was well on her way.
He needed to make sure she would be able to take out Anu with ease and have cause to do so.
Arawn just didn’t know how much time he had left. He hadn’t tried to look in on Anu since they left Druid’s house. He hadn’t felt Anu’s gaze on him either, but that could have been because she was too busy wreaking havoc on the citizens of her continent or because she didn’t think there was anything to see.
Either way, he was running out of time, and Arawn wasn’t sure how to get Sirona to focus more on that and hone her powers to be lethal just yet. Keeping her away from Druid was part of the answer, but there was something innate to Sirona that was keeping the progress so slow.
She had great potential for destruction. He’d felt it, but the layer of sweet goodness on top was weighing it down and keeping it hidden. It seemed that with every step he brought her closer to her potential for destruction, Sirona dragged him back towards a bunch of unnecessary things like growing plants, stories about the stars, and the everyday lives of poor peasants.
A man started to play the flute. Another clapped in time, and Arawn finished his wine. One of the men helped a woman out of her seat and led her into a dance around the campfire.
Sirona watched them with a small smile on her lips that seemed almost longing. He smirked and set his cup down. Thoughts about her training would have to wait. It was an opportune time to draw her closer to him.
“May I have this dance?” Arawn asked.
Sirona flushed and took his hand, “I’ve never danced with someone before, except my father.”
“That’s no matter. I will teach you a dance done here in Berth.”
She smiled, laughing as he guided her through the steps. It was a bit jaunty and required good balance, but she got the hang of it quickly. They whirled around the campfire to the timing of the music being played as if they had been dancing together for years.
She followed his steps easily. He swept her out of the way of someone who had a bit too much to drink. She stumbled into him with a laugh before looking up at him and grinning.
A twinge of guilt went through him as he recognized that look. Fedelm looked at him like that sometimes, but where Fedelm’s gaze had a streak of near-fanatical adoration, Sirona’s was full of sweet affection.
He had already gotten her heart somehow. While it had been his plan all along, he felt guilty. He shoved it away violently as he pulled her back into the dance. It was ridiculous to feel guilty. Sirona wasn’t being strung along. He’d made no promises about longevity or anything else. The only thing they had a real agreement about was that he would teach her to use her power.
The pleasure and the moments of intimacy were tools and bonuses to the deal they’d struck in the garden.
She was getting training with her power, knowledge of Berth, and all the pleasure he could give her. Hell, Fedelm enjoyed their time together and the counsel he provided. Neither arrangement was purely selfish.
He spun her around as his lips twitched into a grimace at the thought. The guilt seemed to circle his relationship with Sirona and prod at his relationship with Fedelm.
It may not be purely selfish, but he was certainly getting the better end of the deal. He consoled himself with the knowledge that he didn’t have to eventually be rid of her like he would have to be rid of Fedelm because she was a deity. Even being a demigod, she would outlive Fedelm with ease.
Regardless of that, he had a goal. Anu’s death wasn’t just for his benefit, but for the benefit of all of Conna, Berth, Fedelm, Sirona, and everyone else on the continent. He knew how her greed and lust for power controlled her. Her need to have dominion over everything would destroy all of the north and south continents if given a chance.
He would be rid of her, but so would everyone else.
“While we are having such a splendid time,” Arawn began, “What are your plans for Conna?”
Her gaze dropped. The smile faded and she looked down. A bit more guilt went through him. He should have waited to bring it up when the mood seemed more appropriate, not to avoid his conscience.
“I want Haron and Blodeu to suffer.”
Arawn nodded, “That is an honest answer.”
“I want them to suffer the way they’ve made my people suffer and all of Conna.” Her jaw trembled, “I want them to pay for what they’ve done to my father. I want them dead.”
He slowed their movements until she lifted her gaze and they stopped completely.
“I want them erased from history and the temple of Anu destroyed.”
The guilt in his chest eased a bit at the reminder. She had her own grudge against Anu. She might not know that Anu was a deity, but it didn’t matter to Sirona. He lifted her hands to press a solemn kiss to them.
“I’ll help you in every way I can.”
She smiled and nodded, “For now, just teach me how not to step on your feet.”
He laughed, “I can do that too.”