After breakfast, and any awkwardness between them sorted out, Evelyn was unexpectedly whisked away by her friends to Dhara's hut to work on the Knotting Rope. Opening her door, her nostrils were assaulted by incense burning with fragrant oils, reminding her of the bathhouses of Ostwick. The thin smoke circled to the top of the hut getting caught in the rising sun's light making the space warm and inviting. The apprentice was seated on layers of pelts on the floor, behind a wide circular table. A large steaming kettle was placed on a leather beside stacked mugs. Various bowls of dried and fresh tea leaves, roots, and crushed spices sat waiting to be made into earthy tea. A honeycomb dripping with the sweet golden treat was also on offer, as well as goat's milk, to add to taste, but Evelyn had always enjoyed the richness of the Basin's natural flavors.
With her arms splayed out to the sides, she dramatically welcomed the women in, "It is the honor bestowed upon me by The Lady of the Skies to guide ye through the Knottin'." She was draped in her ceremonial pelts and skins with her face painted white with black lines and dots. Evelyn was frozen by the entrance of the dwelling, but the others filed in and took their seats. "These women have agreed to help ye, the Phoenix of Redhold, prepare and assist ye on yer journey to become the next Lady of the Hold." For a moment, she almost thought they were kidding with the typically spunky mage acting so somber and subdued, but there was this glimmer of hope and sincerity in the eyes of the others. "We have waited years for ye to come, and restore balance to the land. Ye have the hopes of the clan riding on yer union and through such a bond, will bring new life to our people."
Evelyn plopped down across from Dhara, suddenly becoming contemplative through her words. The past few weeks she had been so selfish, concentrating on herself and enjoying her freedom while forgetting the larger picture. This was her duty, her new purpose. The Avvar had suffered the decline of their culture for years. Knowing now what she knew about their way of life, she felt a pang of guilt hit her at the thought that she had not been subjected to such suffering. It also did not make her feel any better about her behavior when she first arrived. There was much to atone for.
Dhara continued, "The women here all have a purpose; Ilara is yer Bond of the Mind, Cassandra is that of the body. Rosalie is yer blood bond, as she will become your kin, and I will be yer spirit bond through the Realm of Dreams."
"What is the purpose of bonds?" This was the first she was being told of such things.
"Each bond will join you here in this room to perform a cleansing in preparation to rid yourself of any negative energy or spirits that you have accumulated, so that on the day of yer wedding ye enter the bond pure. We do this because most Avvar are married multiple times, so symbolically we are giving you back yer innocence. You and yer mate will meet unburdened by the past. Afterward, we'll meet back here to knot the rope."
A surge of sobering emotion suddenly gripped her. This was the farthest thing she thought was going to happen today. She just assumed she'd be tying some rope together, not this. Tears well up in her eyes at the memory of the forceful loss of her virginity. Blinking a few times and clenching her jaw, the gentle hands of her bonds touched her shoulder.
"Don't fight the energy's release, the Hold Spirits will starve off the demons that are attached to it. The more open ye are to them, the weaker the demons become. The cleanses today have all been planned based on the specific relationship you have with each bond." More tears began to flow having never felt such care or tenderness from anyone since before she came into her magic. She had friends in the Circle sure, but it was… different. Mages were purposely set against their peers to compete ruthlessly for status in the Circle. The Chantry did it to keep them from feeling as if they were like a clan. They were less likely to rebel that way. Knowing that each one of them had devised something specifically for her melted her heart. She may have only known them for six months, but in that time, she felt closer with them than people she had known for years back in Ostwick.
Evelyn sniffled a 'thank you' while wiping some falling tears.
"Ye do not need to thank us for this, we would be poor clanmates if we did not support ye, whether ye are destined to ascend into Avvar legend or not. We love you." That broke her so profoundly, that she wondered if they had heard all the barriers around her heart shatter. Sobbing uncontrollably, she felt Dhara's magic around her. It was the same odd sensation the Augur had touched her with, but this time there was a pull happening on her mana. "That's it, I can feel Despair's attachment," her eyes were shut tight and her extended hand shook. Ilara looked at the young mage with concern, allowing her to go on for a few more moments before placing a hand on her. The spell broke, and Evelyn let go of a breath she didn't know she was holding. "The demon is stronger than I expected," she frowned, "only makes sense that only the most powerful demons would attach to ye. The Spirits and I will keep trying throughout the day. Fear not, we will banish it to the deepest pit of the Abyss."
"W-why is Despair attached to me?" Her voice was shaky.
"Only ye know the answer to that. I sensed a trace of Rage as well, but… the Spirits tell me Hakkon had banished it when he bestowed the mark upon you."
"I did feel my mana almost become tempered following his gift," she waved her marked hand at them.
"As did Dusan and I." After a brief meaningful look, she sighed happily, invoking some of her usual perkiness forth, "Now, Ros will connect with ye through the bond of blood. Followin' that, Ilara will guide ye through meditation exercises to clear yer mind of yer troubles and relax your body, then Cassandra will return with healers for a vigorous massage of yer muscles, and then ye and I will banish the demons." Standing with a jump, she clapped her hands once, "Right, let's get to it, ladies! We have a bride to cleanse and ready!" Everyone but Rosalie exited the hut, leaving the two to begin with the day's festivities.
The Bond of Blood began with a history lesson, which was always welcome since she was a student of history herself. Rosalie pulled tome after dusty old tome from Dhara's bookshelf to browse through. She explained that because she was a Lowlander, she needed to start from the very beginning with the birth of the gods. Evelyn listened intently to the fables and hymns embracing her newly adopted culture. As she had observed from their way of life, everything revolved around the clan and the family, which was reflected in the lesson each story portrayed. Though there was no prophet, there were heroes who shaped Avvish culture through their great deeds, to which Rosalie remarked she'd be counted among them soon.
The last of the lesson had to do with the Rutherfords. Opening a well-cared-for leather-bound book, they thumbed through the long lineage of their line preserved in the paper. At the end, where she and her siblings were listed was her name below two others marked with a black underline and the word 'deceased'. Next to each name was a thumbprint pressed to the page in blood. Ros held her hand out grasping a sharp piece of bone in the other. Giving it over willingly after asking if this would result in some blood magic and receiving a confused 'no,' one quick prick and press entered her into their family history. She remarked that they had not been blessed with a hero in their long lineage, but that that would be changing.
"Ros, seriously? You're really laying on the pressure!"
"I'm merely a footnote in your legend, helping you discover how special you are. I believe in you, even if you doubt yourself." A sweet look graced her beautiful face.
She couldn't help but become sentimental at it, "You have been more of a sister to me in the last six months than my real sisters have ever been. You are not a footnote, you are a part of it." Evelyn tapped on the Book of Heroes, "It seems to me every hero needs their clan and family behind them to complete their destiny. I'm glad to be becoming a member of yours." The two women of opposite looks and traits embraced. The Phoenix's long-toned arms squeezed the skinny homemaker affectionately, taking in her flowery scent. "Could I marry you instead of your brother, I feel we're more compatible," she said chuckling.
Returning the jest, "Not with the way you snore! You and Cullen belong together on that fact alone."
Evelyn laughed harder, "I forgot about that, he is going to be so thrilled when we…" The thought of sleeping beside him tripped her up. She knew it was bound to happen, but it had always seemed so far in the future. Now it was four days away.
"If it makes you feel better, I'm sure he is exceedingly more nervous than you are about sharing a bed daily. I'd bet anything he'll offer to sleep on the floor for the first month." The youngest Rutherford's brown eyes softened, "He wouldn't want me to say, but he lamented over the decision to force you into marriage."
"Why tell me this now?" She wondered at the ulterior motive, knowing before that she had tried to help her see her brother in a better light.
The blonde shrugged, "I suppose I just want you both to be happy, and that begins with forgiveness and understanding." Evelyn froze as they both stared deep into each other's soul from the feel of it, "I know my brother, and I think he needs you, he just doesn't know it yet. And you need him too, but I feel like you are becoming more aware of it than you let on."
The mage looked down at her hands, breaking the trance, "I won't deny that he makes me feel safe. I've always had to watch my own back, but with him, I feel at peace also knowing I can protect him as well."
Ros smiled at the words, "Well it's a start, even if you two skipped ahead a few steps on Wintersend."
"Blame your brother, I was on my best behavior that night until he showed up and all hell broke loose." She gave her a pointed look in response, "Alright, I did provoke him. We both share the blame. Happy?"
"Yes," as she went to say more, Ilara softly knocked and let herself in. "Seems our time is at an end, sister." With a hug, she collected her family records and left.
The next hour with her Bond of the Mind passed by quickly in guided meditation. Ilara's soothing voice paired with the gentle chimes ringing out periodically was calming. Paired with the scented oils wafting about, Evelyn was more afraid she was going to fall asleep rather than still her mind. Yet, she was practiced in the art of meditation, having being urged to pursue it as a young hot-headed mage. In the serenity of the hut, she achieved the state of clarity she sought. Her mind absently made order out of the recent chaos. Change and the fear of it had held her back, and ironically it was the Avvar who embraced change. Not wanting to break the trance, Ilara switched out with Cassandra seamlessly.
Before the bride-to-be knew it, she was stripped and lying face down on a table of some kind. Peeking out to her side was her Bond of the Body, though she only saw her torso. Straining to look up more, she was greeted by a stern command to continue her meditation. Cassandra's calloused hands kneaded her flesh hard, but the deep tissue massage was not unwelcome. The tight pressure and then release of each stroke made her feel as if she was floating on air. Blood coursed to areas that were lacking it, warming her to the bone. The tension and stress that had built up over the last few months, maybe even a year, was beaten away - quite literally.
When Dhara returned she felt like a new mage. Evelyn was so relaxed she feared opening her eyes to allow reality to ground her from the high. The apprentice allowed her to stay in her state for a while longer as she delved deep into her subconscious. The bride opened herself up to her in the hopes that she'd learn more about this demonic attachment. That thought alone was enough to undo the past few hours of relaxation.
"I cannit do it," Dhara huffed in disappointment. "I've never seen one this strong before." Opening her eyes finally, Evelyn looked at the young mage who scratched her wild copper hair. "I will have to speak to the Augur of this. I'm sure he'll have a solution!"
"What more can you tell me of the demon? I have extensive experience with them, so I know the nature of Despair, I'm just not sure why it's attached to me?"
The apprentice Augur closed her eyes reaching out to the Realm of Dreams seeking knowledge. Her eyes squinted and she winced a few times, "It… has been with ye for about eight years." Evelyn tried to think of the significance of the number, but was drawling a blank. "I think it may be linked with the prophecy, that's why it… hunted ye."
"So, it's a strong demon that had some form of knowledge of the prophecy." She sorted through all the lessons from her demonology class for something that could aid her. She mumbled to herself, "A twisted Hope spirit, purpose denied, it knew of me through the prophecy, so it possible originated from the Basin…" She sighed, this time looking across the table, "It's odd, but there's got to be something I'm missing to piece together. How was it able to hide from me for so long? The Templars should have sensed it – I should have…"
"To me, the connection felt more like it marked ye as its pet. Through dreams it could find ye, but it wasn't always with ye, which would explain why no one felt its presence for long enough to investigate. Other demons let ye be, not willing to challenge it to claim ye." The Knight-Enchanter's brow knitted together as a feeling of unease brewed in her belly. Dhara sensing it, not wanting to let it ruin the day, added, "We'll speak with the Augur tomorrow, if Despair has let us see it, then the Hold Spirits are no doubt working to protect you against it. They may not be able to break it the attachment yet, but with our combined power and the Heart of the Hold, it's a good as dead! Yer safe." Feeling slightly better, she nodded, closing her eyes trying to find the serenity of the hut again.
With a knowing smirk, she invited the others in, and for the rest of the afternoon, they shared tea, nuts, bread, fruit preserves, and goat cheese. "It's time we Knotted the Rope." Everyone gathered around the table perked up for the main event of the day. Dhara pushed a large rectangular box into the middle of the table. Lifting the lid gently, a well-worn rope appeared. From their reaction, one would've thought it was made of gold. "Lady of the Skies, may this Knottin' of the Rope by this stolen bride be blessed by you. We call upon Ye to help Evelyn Althea Trevelyan weave the sacred rope that has joined every man and woman in this clan since its founding. This Knottin' today will bind her to our Thane, Cullen Stanton Rutherford. It will be by your will that her knots will hold firm or unravel at his deft hands, for Ye are wise and will not lead them astray. In return, Evelyn will honor the time set forth by the Knottin' Ceremony, and lead our people beside Thane Rutherford. As Lady of the Hold, she will embody Redhold's spirit of a lioness and protect our ways and our clan."
The other women took the old softened hemp braid from its box, carefully placing the frayed ends towards her. Towards the top, where it was braided as a handhold loop, were various knots still left untied from previous brides. She gently touched a finger to them, blinking a few times as distant visions flashed through her mind's eye. She wondered at if it were the souls of her former self reacting to such a profound artifact. With that thought fresh in her mind, she looked nervously up at her friends, "Um, I just…?"
"Just tie knots," Cassandra replied plainly.
Dhara sighed shaking her head at the sword maiden, "Do as you feel, Phoenix. The Lady will guide you. It is she who will determine the strength of your knots." With a weary look, she began.
With no plan or knowledge of knots aside from the ones used to tie her field tent to the stakes, she tapped into her heightened state letting her fingers move of their own volition. Watching her digits weave an intricate pattern, pulling the thick threads tightly every now and then. Evelyn tried to push the competitive urging out of her mind to just tangle the bloody thing to see the look on Cullen's face when she saw what he'd have to unravel. No, this was as sacred as anything she had held in such high regard in her former life. This was her marriage! When she felt lost or stumped in the tying, she closed her eyes and listened for the Lady around her as she had been taught to do. After a few moments of listening, the odd bird would chirp jolting her into action or sing a sweet song for her fingers to dance to. When she had no more rope to tie, she sat back and looked to the others. Just as they had set it out, it went carefully back into the box, which Dhara then sealed magically to avoid tampering.
With a loud cheer, their duty as bonds was complete, lounging back on the cushions and furs about the room in relief. Ignoring the nagging of her rational mind worried about Despair, she resigned herself to enjoying her current company. No demon had got the better of her yet, and she was confident this one wouldn't either.
***
That same evening was vastly different from the rest of her day which had been filled with friends. She arrived home to find that no one was there, including her brother, all seeming to have plans except for her. Her shared room was empty and quiet except for the crackling of the low fire. Rosalie had already left for the evening to spend it with her beau. On the way back to the house, she had purred about how she was going to 'surprise him' when he returned from their drinking. Not wanting to know the details in case she was interrogated by the Rutherford brothers, she winked at the blond beauty letting her know she expected to hear all the juicy details in the morning, since the girl took every opportunity to talk about her and 'Ry,' as she called him.
Evelyn had thought she would've enjoyed the quiet having had an emotional and contemplative day, but found instead she wanted a distraction, feeling lighter than she had in years. She stoked the fire with her magic giving her some heat to take with her as her nightgown was thin, having rotated out their winter attire for lighter fabric following the first warm days of spring. With the amount of heavy furs they blanketed on their beds, they didn't need to sleep in much as nights became milder. This particular garment was borrowed from Rosalie because for once it actually fit her because it was flowy not form-fitting. The Avvar cotton nightgown was modest in the front and the back dipped down to her lower back. The length fell to just below her knees, almost making it look ridiculous on her due to her height. Wrapping a shawl around her to protect against the chill the stone of the longhouse house still bled, she walked out into the common room to find some way to amuse herself.
The whole house was silent as if she had entered a Fade-version of it. Hearing people walking and talking in passing out front, she knew she wasn't dreaming, but she had never been left alone before. Annoyed at the quiet, she began humming and singing to herself taking laps about the room in the hopes the three men would return from the Mead Hall, but as time passed she grew bored. Was it too late to change and join their drinking? No, it was a night for the boys, she probably shouldn't break up their merriment. So she continued to wander about inspecting everything until she reached Cullen's room.
When she entered, she almost mistook his armor on the stand in the corner as him, jumping slightly. It looked different in the dark room, and she quickly used her mana to light the chamber and fireplace. She quietly stepped towards the set to get a better look at it. The pads of her calloused feet protected her from the rough wooden floorboards as she crept closer as if it were a sleeping lion. She could never study it too closely when it was on him for the fact that she'd be staring at him openly, but she had always been fascinated by it. There was one piece in particular that intrigued her most - the lion helm. She knew they had good trading relations with several Dwarven merchants and had wondered if that's where he had gotten it from since its quality was nothing she'd seen produced in the Hold. It was made of Everite, like her spirit blade hilt, which had plentiful deposits in the Basin. From how expensive the ore was on the market, she had to assume that he had mined the metal himself in order to have it expertly shaped, for of what she knew of his income, there would have been no way for him to afford such armor.
Picking it up off of the stand and looking sheepishly around to make sure she was still alone, she tucked her hair up into the helm donning it. It was too big on her, naturally, but the added padding of her hair stopped its heavy visor and guard from dropping down off her forehead too far. With a hand holding the chin guard up to support the weight as well, she tried to turn her head but failed. It smelt of pure sweat and leather from the scant padding on the inside. As she peered out through the lion's mouth, she was surprised at how well she could see, as helms of such intricate designs are often less practical for battle. The longer she wore it the more her neck muscles tightened under its weight. The metal and long fur making up the mane was incredibly heavy, though she knew for him it was of little consequence.
How many battles had this helmet seen? How many times had it saved his life? Her fingers felt along the outside to where she knew it was scared by battle. The sharp scratches her fingers traced in the metal spoke to her as she closed her eyes envisioning the incoming enemies. She saw the young and foolish charge him, seeking glory at killing a Thane such as he. Through his eyes, she watched as he quickly assessed his foe targeting their weakness before dispatching them quickly or simply knocking them out with a good shield bash. Then she saw the stout and seasoned warriors who engaged him with the deserved respect, giving the gods a good show. They were not so easily defeated, engaging in the dance of death with them for some time. His armor did its job when it could, but the enemy had got a few good licks in on his leg and exposed sword arm. When at last they fell to him, he silently thanked the warrior for the battle and that he was able to give him a good death befitting their caliber. Then Axlan appears full of vengeance looking for blood, his hulking form running at him with a large axe swinging lethally as he braces for impact about to slam into his shield --
She shook herself from the visions. Though the helm held power, it also painted a target inviting death to try to claim him with each use. As a mage, she was used to fighting at range most of the time, but standing there holding your ground for someone like Axlan to charge you, gave her a new respect for Cullen. The room was quiet once more as the fire communed with her through soft crackles that all was peaceful. When she felt the unnerving feeling of being watched, she pivoted around on her bare feet, causing the visor to clang shut.
The Thane had returned.