a/n: the first fic written for the pellinor series. admittedly not my best work, but i just wanted to get this out of my head so as to stop thinking about it. so here it is, enjoy!
* this story is based on the first two novels, The Gift (The Naming), and The Riddle*
He couldn't sleep. Perhaps it was due to the fact that he was in a strange land, unheard of in living memory, past or present, or that it was just too peaceful. Maybe it was also because he felt unsettled, as if time stopped for a brief moment of pure bliss, in the safety of Ardina's woodland. Whatever it was, he couldn't sleep.
Lying down in the comfortable bed, his mind drifted from nothingness into thoughts surrounding his current state. Here I am, searching for gods know what, with the Chosen One, who just so happens to be my student. He couldn't help but smile slightly at the irony that the One was under his tutelage, as unbelievable as it was, considering his own past. As a past sufferer of the Dark himself, it was all he could do to keep himself from chuckling at the fact that the saviour of the Light was learning under his wing.
At the thought of Maerad, his mind instantly focused on her, and her change from the slave he initially known her as, to the Minor Bard she became with his help. In his mind, he recalled vividly her piercing blue eyes, so much like her father's, given to her by her Pilani blood, and the dark black hair she inherited from Milana. At only sixteen summers old, he saw within her a sense of grave responsibility surpassing any adult Bard he had ever known, including himself. She was different, but that was possibly due to the fact that her pre-destined path dictated her to be so.
In the short time span he had known her, he already felt connected with her in mind in spirit. Strange, he thought. I always prided myself as a solitary man. Maybe I'm becoming soft. Once more he smiled softly; it was a strange feeling for him indeed. As a man of little words, he grew accustomed to his lonely lifestyle. But with Maerad, a camaraderie of sorts had been built between the two of them. I suppose it's for the better. Perhaps now I can count on someone to be by my side in case anything ever happens. He wasn't exactly comfortable with the company of others, but with Maerad, he was glad for her companionship. Quick to learn Bardic traditions, quick to retort him in a joking manner, and able to adapt to his many moods, Maerad was truly the sort of friend she didn't mind keeping around. True, he had built close ties with a few Bards, but none came close to the young woman under his care.
And he felt responsible for her. Not only was her education solely based on his knowledge, but he felt protective of her. She was now part of the pack, and part of him. Life was easier by myself – but I can honestly say it's a lot less lonely with her.
Cadvan of Lirigon glanced outside the window of his plain, but beautiful room. Despite it still being dark outside, he could see the faint outline of the rising sun about to burst out from the sky. He had lain awake for most of the night. He pulled the blankets from on top of him, and head in the direction o the door. He had given up on sleep.
Down the small hall, he saw that Maerad`s door was opened slightly, and he made his way to it. Peeking quietly inside, he was slightly surprised to find the room empty. He had not heard her leaving her room all night, despite being awake. He decided to venture outside, for curiosity's sake. Maybe she feels it too, this sense of unsettlement here. Safe as it is, I can't help but think I'm wasting valuable time in this haven.
He made his way slowly outside to the small yard of their dwelling and found her there, curled up on a comfortable chair. Quietly he walked up to her sleeping figure, and smiled to himself. She looked extremely peaceful, sleeping out in the open air, as if she weren't on a confusing quest to save the world. It was then that he noticed her face covered with the wild tangles of her hair, and he instinctively reached out to brush them away.
He didn't know how long it was that he stood there looking at her sleeping form, but he was suddenly aware of the fact that he looked at her with a strange emotion he couldn't quite name. He felt his face soften at the sight of her, unable to understand why he felt a sudden warmth within himself. But what he did understand was that this particular feeling came with a sense of calm and fulfilment. Maybe it's a sign that I've finally found a friend to count on. Maybe it's also a sign that she's someone I can actually depend on, and who will still be willing to accept me as I am, whoever that may be.
He glanced down at her once more before returning to his rooms. It was far too late to think about sleeping, but he supposed it couldn't hurt to at least lay there and rest his body and mentally prepare for the task at hand.
There was a flash in her eyes, an emotion he had never seen from her, but it only flashed for an instant. Perhaps he just imagined it, as she looked at him and gave him a small reassuring smile. He smiled back, albeit a little awkwardly, and turned to listening to Nerili, First Bard of Busk.
He hadn't felt this sense of unsettlement between himself and his student for a while. He knew he was thinking too deeply into it, but why had Maerad looked at him that way? It was as if she were irritated, annoyed – even angry – at him, since entering Busk. He didn't understand why. What was so irritating, to be in the company of Nerili and her First Circle? He slightly shook his head, and gave his attention back to Nerili.
He looked at the First Bard of Busk with a sort of sentimental detachment. His relationship with her, as ashamed as he was to admit it, was formed out of the sake of convenience. Despite refusing her romantically, he felt guilty that she was still willing to help him in this time of need. He knew many wouldn't, knowing who he had been in the past, but Neri was different.
It had been several years since the death of Ceredin that he had found love in the embrace of Nerili's arms. He could recall the time when they were both young, and unaware of the consequences of love. He looked at her face, directly in front of him, and could see in it compassion, fear, and determination. She had always been that way. But it wasn't enough for him. He didn't realize then, but he now knew that he had treated her unfairly. She was a partner out of convenience, and nothing more. He couldn't feel attached to her, because of her lack of understanding the true powers of the Dark. She was headstrong, beautiful, and devoted to the Light. She was initiated as the First Bard of her School, whereas he followed a nomadic path in life, forever wandering, never staying immobile in a single space. As much as he loved her, he knew from the beginning that their relationship was doomed to fail. But he did know, even back then, that he would never hurt her the way he foolishly hurt Ceredin. Once was enough to last even a Bardic lifetime.
Cadvan once more felt his attention slipping, and his eyes fell once more to Maerad. He saw her brow furrowed in contemplation, as if she were trying to figure out a puzzle that had been bothering her for days on end. He saw that her striking blue eyes, much brighter than his own, were directed at him and Nerili. He felt uneasy, still unable to understand what it was that bothered her, and turned away, lost in his own thoughts again.
For the fifth time since they arrived in Busk, he saw that look Maerad gave him. He was wise enough this time, to realize that this particular look of irritating was associated with Nerili's presence. And he was also wise enough to come to the conclusion that she was jealous.
Jealous of what, exactly, he couldn't name, but deep within himself, he felt smug. He also felt something else, that warm feeling he had back in Ardina's woods, and it was something he couldn't name. It bothered him.
As Nerili turned her attention to Maerad, he saw the girl's look of envy disappear, turning into a look of slight anxiety and happiness that she was addressed personally by the First Bard of Busk. He knew he was not mistaken in the fact that Maerad felt a tinge of jealousy when his own attentions were directed at Neri, but he didn't dwell too much on it, because he also knew how greatly Maerad respected and liked the First Bard. It was a confusing thing to think about. Only in the presence of women do strange thoughts while in the minds of men. He smiled wryly to himself, and walked alongside the two women in silent contemplation.
"Then I suppose I should thank you."
He didn't know what had possessed him to say such words to her. He felt the shift in their friendship change when she was initiated as a full Bard, but this change in their relationship was different. He acted upon foolish impulses, and he couldn't take it back.
He knew he made her feel unsure and discomforted. He had basically told her outright that he thought of her as beautiful as Ardina. How stupid was he! She was his student, albeit a full Bard, someone who trusted him and depended on him as much as he depended on her. And here he was, telling her he thought of her as beautiful. Idiot!
He felt her silence as much as he heard it, and couldn't help but cringe within himself. He didn't know what had made him say something. But it's not as if I lied! He shook his head, and watched her leave for her own sleeping quarters within Owan's boat. You should've said something, you fool. Now it's just weird! However, he couldn't help but sigh with relief when she left.
He didn't lie. That he was sure of. But he didn't think when he said those words. He recounted the moment once more in head, and once again cringed at his behaviour. Maerad was beautiful, and it was something he could not deny. But it was something he knew he shouldn't be aware of. He was the adult, why hadn't he acted like one? Sometimes, I think I'm the student in this relationship. He chewed the inside of his bottom lip, still sitting on deck of the boat. Now that he had said it, he couldn't help but visualize her face in his mind. She truly was very pretty, and her blue eyes did sparkle more than anybody else's he had ever known.
At that very moment, a new realization hit Cadvan. All those feelings he had been exposed to, all the confusion – he finally understood it. His brow wrinkled in deep contemplation, as he struggled within himself to deny it or accept it.
He was beginning to develop romantic feelings for Maerad of Pellinor.
He felt his eyebrows raise at the thought. And it was now that he also began to understand another part of himself that he shied away from.
Every time she smiles at me, I smile like a love-drunk fool. Every time she asks me a question and seeks in intelligent answer, I feel proud to be able to give her what she is looking for. And every time she fights by my side, I feel as if I'm fighting for her life as well as my own. It's all very strange.
He shook his head again. Maybe it was just the play of the moonlight that he head was giving him fuzzy thoughts. He couldn't help but think that this was a particularly romantic atmosphere, being alone with a young woman on a boat underneath the stars and skies. But he couldn't help but feel slightly dizzy with a sense of joy in his heart. It had been a long time since he had these feelings, and he now welcomed them as if they were an old friend lost and found again.
I suppose feeling in love with Maerad can't be too bad. She's basically another version of yourself, except possibly more intelligent, better looking, and prophesied as the saving grace.
That night, Cadvan of Lirigon fell asleep, smiling.
He couldn't forgive himself. It was as if another nightmare turned into reality, and he lost himself. One more action to account for in his dreaded lifetime, one more life he was responsible for losing, and he couldn't forgive himself.
It was Ceredin all over again, except that it wasn't. It was Maerad, a girl of sweet innocence, and he lost her. He lost himself. He failed. He was to blame.
If he hadn't hurt her, if he had even approached her, despite her nasty attitude that the young were so affected by… if he had only found it within himself to not be so proud and to admit he was wrong, to forgive… he lost her.
She was probably dead by now, and here he was, in the safe shelter of a save in the mountains with Darsor. He had glanced back, and saw her fallen figure, and still he ran further and further away from her, to save himself, when he could've – no, should've – saved her instead. She was the important one. She was the Chosen One. She was every hope and dream of the future. And he lost her.
And now, in the small space, he let out an agonized cry of pain, grief, and everything bad he felt inside. He couldn't help but remember her words; You only see me as a tool of the Light. And here, in this darkness, he realized she was right. True, he found friendship with her, and even love, but first of all, to him, she was a tool of the Light. And he regretted it.
She was more. She was his companion. She was his source of Light in the darkness. She was his friend. At this instant, he hated himself.
He couldn't forgive the death of Ceredin, and now, another death was placed before him. How can he let his people know, that his student, and their hope, had died in his hands? He grabbed a fistful of his dirty matted hair, and pulled it in his grief.
Memories of her flashed before him, and he quailed at them. He had been angry with her thoughtless murder, but he had treated her unfairly. If he had at least sought to understand her own feelings of pain with the death of the Bard, perhaps he could have salvaged their relationship. But he had been too busy being distrustful of her. She was different; she wasn't learned in the traditional Bardic ways of Knowing. And he still gave her the cold shoulder – and worse, he knew he impacted her negativity. He knew he brought upon her the terrible feelings that were most likely swirling around in her own mind, and he did it purposely, as if he were punishing her. He was too intense with this punishment, and now he had paid the price.
I hear what is in your heart, dear friend. The man looked up from the darkness, turning his head towards the horse.
What do you mean? Cadvan asked, wiping away the sticky tears that burdened his cheeks.
The horse replied after a brief moment of silence; I know what it is that you feel. I know how it is you feel towards the girl. But fear not. You are too harsh upon yourself.
How can I not be harsh? He scowled at Darsor. How many people do I need to plague with death until I meet my own end? How can I live with myself, knowing that this entire accident could have been preventable?
You think one-sided. Your bickering with Maerad is not entirely your fault. As in independent, she too, had a part to play. And just like you, she has faced the consequences.
Are you trying to make me feel better, Darsor? If so, I can assure you that it is not working whatsoever.
The horse seemed to ignore his words. Instead, he said, I believe your girl is alive.
This comment piqued the Bard's interest. What do you mean?
I mean what I mean, Cadvan of Lirigon. I sense that Maerad of Pellinor is still alive, though barely. Make it your mission – and your moral duty – to seek her again.
He remained silent. Darsor's instincts, from what he knew from the past, had always been much better than his own, despite all his worldly knowledge. But after the fatal rock slide, there was doubt in his heart. How could anyone survive that?
He wrapped his arms about himself. He would make a decision after he would rest. He was in no fit state to start a new quest. And he wanted some time, alone, to come to terms with the death of his best friend.
Ardina had told him, in a dream, to meet her at Pellinor. In another situation, he would have dismissed this message as folly, for he was never one to believe in the capacities of dream-visions. But this was different. This was Ardina, the Elidhu, and the dream had been as clear as reality. And so with Darsor, he went.
He wanted so much to believe it. He wanted so much to have faith that she was alive, and on her way to see him as well. He wanted to be able to look into those blue eyes, to gaze at those lips, and to hold her hand, as he did so a hundred times. He wanted so much to do it all, and be assured of the fact that he treasured every moment he had. He wanted so much just to be near her, that his own personal feelings towards her didn't even count any more. He wanted so much to have her again. And so with Darsor, he went.
She's gone and fallen in love with the Winter King. Of course this would happen to you, Cadvan. How can you possibly compete with an Elidhu? It makes sense anyway, considering how she's part Elidhu herself. These thoughts coursed through his head, as he stayed up for the night watch.
He could still feel his heart pounding with delirious joy from seeing her. He was initially surprised that she appeared to him in the form of a wolf, but now, after reflecting upon it, he wasn't that surprised. Not anymore. Maerad would always keep surprising him, and he'd just have to deal with it. After all, she did surprise him by actually coming back to life.
Never be ashamed of your love. He had spoken those words to her. Granted, he wasn't exactly pleased that the first love she would experience would be Arkan, but he supposed Arkan would be proper, considering the fact that the Witch was an Elemental. But still, that would be extremely difficult to trump. He smiled wryly, and turned to look at the sleeping girl.
Once more, her tangled hair fell across her face. Unlike the last time, however, he didn't dare touch her. He was still coming to terms with the fact that she was here. He had touched her, held her hand, and looked hungrily into her eyes, but he still couldn't help but be awed that she had managed to survive, and learn of the Treesong. She was amazing.
He turned back to the fire. One perilous journey was over, and he hoped for the future that he would never need to be separated from her under such circumstances. Cadvan of Lirigon looked up into the sky, and the million stars that graced its skirts, staring in wonder of the great shining dots that sparkled so freely.
Although he was far from a perfect Bard, he was glad that somewhere up in the heaves, someone had blessed him with the friendship of Maerad of Pellinor. It no longer mattered to him that he loved her, and that she might never know of his feelings. It was more than enough that she came back, and that she trusted him again. She might never love him the way he would love her, but to be graced with any feeling of love from her was more than anything he could have ever wished for.
a/n: please review! i'd like to know if you guys liked it, because i would definitely like to keep writing mroe stories based on this amazing tale. thank you!