Black Throne Held

My first flash fiction written using voice dictation. Onward to new adventures!

Darkness reigned beyond the windows when the revelries finally stilled. Veth sat on the Black Throne, watching. A few men slumped over tables, too worn to seek their beds. Still Veth sat as a statue watching, separate from the merriment as always.

Thirteen years had passed since the queen’s death. Thirteen he’d watched over the celebrations which hailed Veth as freedom’s champion. What a mockery that title was. They’d wake to understanding soon enough.

There. His hearth leapt at the scrape of shoe on stone sounded. Rising, Veth strode to the unguarded door. Grabbing the iron loop, the ancient wood moved beneath his power. He opened the door to find her.

Her face shadowed in the dark, still Veth her. Knew the perfectly spiraling curls bobbing as she moved. Knew those slow steps, deliberate in her ascent up the stairs. The datura knew her and blossomed in her wake, an ascent none but Veth witnessed.

She paused before him, black skirts swishing about her as she raised her head, the dim light from within illuminating her features. The child he’d helped flee was gone, but he knew the woman. She grown into a beauty to rival her mother.

Veth knelt, clasping a hand over his heart which thumped wildly. “My queen,” he whispered. Her hand touched his shoulder and he felt it, the true power of the Black Throne. Power he’d only held in trust. His new queen was home. Tomorrow they would mourn their foolishness.

Enjoy the story? Take a moment to share it with your friends using the links below or sign up for the email list to receive updates.

Be sure to check out the other Wednesday Words authors’ take on the prompt.