A Light In The Dark
After sacrificing his youth and beauty to the Shadow Court, Sparrow demands Theresa give him time with his family before returning to Reaver. Sparrow x Alex.
Author's Note: Rated for sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.
Wraithmarsh
Sparrow Black stumbled, dizzy and disoriented, into the cursed swamplands of Wraithmarsh. The stench of bog decay filled his nostrils, the cold, thick fog wrapping around him like the choke of a too-tight cloak, chilling him to the bone. Pain throbbed deep in those bones, not nearly as intense as moments before when he'd held on stubbornly to the Dark Seal and the Judges had drained him, but it lingered as a deep, residual ache that spoke of a loss he couldn't quite comprehend yet.
Wraithmarsh. He hated this place, despised this place. The barren remains of a town and people sacrificed for greed. The deepest depths of his soul cried out in pain and grief, something he suspected connected to the heroic bloodline thrumming through his veins.
And the creatures that filled this place. Hollow Men. Balverines. Trolls. And Banshees. Those Skorm-cursed Banshees. The things they whispered. Every doubt and fear he ever had about himself reflected back in their hateful, spiteful hisses.
He groaned, struggling as he straightened up, feeling his joints crack and hiss with age he shouldn't feel. He blinked, clearing his vision with some effort. He knew what was expected of him next. That he was to return to Bloodstone (he inwardly groaned at the thought of that cesspool) and report back like a good little boy to that scum Reaver after the completion of his errand.
He knew what was expected, but he also knew what he wanted. He grit his teeth, threw back his head, and bellowed,
"THERESA!"
xx
Bowerstone Market
Alex sat in the kitchen of the small house she lived in, a cup of tea held tightly between her chilled fingers. A fire crackled in the river-stone hearth, its shadows of the flames dancing along the walls. Outside, a storm raged, full of howling winds and rain pelting against the windows. But her husband had provided them with a good home, with solid walls and proper windows, and Alex had no fear of the storm.
She pressed her fingers against her temples, sighing. She had barely managed to get her infant daughter, Rosie, to bed an hour before. The little girl had been fussy on and off for days now, making the fact she shared a room with her eleven-year-old brother, Samuel, problematic, especially when such things made the boy testy in return.
Wrapping a blanket tighter around herself, Alex allowed her head to fall against the table, her eyes closing in the aftermath of a long day. She had to admit, she missed Sparrow terribly, especially in times like this when she was certain a father's touch was just what the situation needed. Sparrow tried, Avo knew he did, and she'd known the moment she agreed to marry him his quest would take priority.
Samuel had not known much of his father until last autumn, when Sparrow returned from his ten-year exile in the Spire. To be fair, he had stayed with them for several months, long enough to see her give birth to the daughter conceived on his first night back home. He spent the time getting to know his son, and reminding her all over again why she had fallen in love with him. But eventually, he could no longer ignore the call, and he was gone again.
She understood. She really did. But it was in those times, when Samuel's need for male influence reared its head, when she remembered the nights Sparrow had spent rocking newborn Rose to sleep, when her bed felt cold and empty, that she wished him home more than ever.
A sharp rapping at the front door broke through her reflections, and she reluctantly got to her feet. Mumbling under her breath about the audacity of inconsiderate unknowns dared to pound on her door at nearly midnight, she swung open the door, and her irritated expectation immediately changed- not at all unpleasant surprise.
The figure was definitely no stranger. Drenched to the bone, the wet clothing stuck as close as a second skin to a tall, muscular body, just as trim and fit as twelve years ago. Covered in a dark cloak, cowl up and covering his face, she would still recognize her husband anywhere.
"Sparrow! You're soaked, come inside!"
She stepped back to let him enter the house, and she was stunned to watch him visibly hesitate, before coming in. He wordlessly locked and barred the door behind him, taking in a shuddering breath without turning back to face her.
"Sparrow?"
"Alex…" his voice was weak, stricken with things she couldn't identify, "Something happened, love, and I don't know how you'll take it."
"Sparrow." She placed a hand on his shoulder, placing the other at his hip, and she gently began removing his cloak. "I promised you the day we married, that I would always understand, always stay with you, no matter what happened. I'm keeping that promise, darling."
In wet tunic and breeches, he kept his back to her as she carefully hung up his cloak to dry. "Where's Jax?" she inquired, keeping her voice light and pleasant as she worked.
He sighed. "He's staying in the stable. I think he's found good company with the blacksmith's bitch."
Alex hummed thoughtfully. "I suspected that last litter was his. The pups had Jax's look to them." She carefully unbuckled his swordbelt and loosened the laces to his tunic. "Sparrow, look at me."
He swallowed hard, and slowly, reluctantly, turned to face her. She gasped, placing her hands over her mouth as tear pooled into her eyes. "Oh, my love."
His thick hair and beard were heavy with gray, his face wrinkled and lined beyond the scars he had quickly accumulated over their years of association. His beautiful eyes, always so reflecting of his inner strength and hidden gentleness, were replaced by glowing red orbs, absent of iris or pupil. Her love had been touched by darkness, and it had changed him in ways she instinctively knew would never be the same again.
Sparrow hesitantly raised his eyes to meet hers, studying them. There was sorrow in her gaze, yes, and empathy, but there was no trace of the revulsion he had so feared seeing. The longer they stared at each other, the more time seemed to stop, the world ceasing to spin, reality as he knew it came to a standstill. He forgot what it meant to breathe, to remember anything beyond that moment, even something as simple as his own name, so immense was his relief and his love in that moment.
And then she whispered to him, the sound of the name given to him at birth, and it all came rushing back to him, his identity, his existence, and his place in the world. "Alex, Alex…" her name passed from his lips in a steady repetition, a mantra meant to ground him.
She whispered his name once more, tears shining against her face. He tried to smile, failing miserably as he reached out to her, hesitantly, slowly, still wary of her acceptance. But suddenly, she threw her arms around his neck, pressing against his side, and she was tangible, so very real as the warmth of her body, the feel of her, soaked into him. "H-hey," he muttered, wincing at the shaky quality to his voice, "Haven't I told you before that I hate to see you cry?"
The comment was hypocritical, for even as he spoke, his own tears obscured his vision of her. His arms went around her tightly, careful not to squeeze her too tightly, wanting her near all the same. He was not aware of the moment he sank to his knees, but as he hit the floor, her embrace was still there, her hand stroking his hair as his body wracked with sobs, her voice warm and soothing against his ear. She held him for a long time, long after he had calmed, listening in silence as he spoke, not caring as his words rambled and became broken or unintelligible, as he released everything.
xx
Eventually, things calmed between them, as Alex offered her husband dry clothes and something to eat. After a bowl of leftover stew and a change of clothing, Sparrow stretched out on the bearskin rug laid out in front of the fireplace, comfortable and content with a full stomach and his woman cuddled up to him.
Sparrow's arm was draped across his wife's stomach as Alex rested her head on his chest, fingers drawing nonsensical patterns across the V of bare skin left by his open shirt collar. He deeply inhaled at the contact, the muscles of his chest contracting and then relaxing beneath her touch.
"Gold piece for your thoughts?" she murmured softly, slowly running her fingers up his arm. The fine hair dotting his forearms was soft beneath her fingers, smoothing out when she traced over the definitions of his bicep, hidden beneath cloth. The contrasts of his body had always fascinated her, so blatantly, powerfully male, but capable of being so gentle with her. She pressed a kiss to his shoulder, waiting for his answer.
He blinked sleepily, "Mmm, I don't know if they're worth that much."
She tilted her head up to look at him. "Why don't you let me be the judge of that?"
He swallowed against the harsh lump rising in his throat. She noticed his hesitation and propped herself up on an elbow to see him more clearly. "What is it, Sparrow?"
"Alex…" he sharply inhaled, exhaling again in a harsh rush of air. "I just have a bad feeling about all this. This Reaver business…it all gives me a chill."
She gave him a tender look, reaching over to stroke his face. "Then let me help you feel warm again." Placing a hand on his cheek and tilting his head toward her, she kissed him. His passion quickly stirred, Sparrow responded in earnest.
They took their time, clothes stripping away piece by piece. Hands quested and explored every enticing inch of skin exposed, and their bodies entwined, pressing close, warming each other with their heat.
She was beautiful in the firelight, her blonde hair hued the color of molten flame- skin a sun-kissed gold against the glow as he leaned her back against the soft rug. Her legs wrapped around him, entangling with his as he instinctively rocked against her, pressing into the enticing heat of her and releasing a groan at the intimate contact.
He lowered his head to nibble at her shoulder, her small hands pushing and pulling at his shirtsleeves- his only remaining piece of clothing- Sparrow only reluctantly pulling back enough to shed the garment before he lowered himself to her once more, body covering hers.
She stroked his shoulders, back and hips with gentle, butterfly-kiss touches, both stirring and soothing him as he lazily kissed her, languidly tasting her, savoring, reveling in smoldering sensuality.
Finally drawing enough strength to leave her mouth, he shifted his attention to exploring her, moving lower to taste the valley between her breasts. He dragged his tongue along the skin, taking a nipple into his mouth and gently suckled, taking in every reaction with pleasure as she moved restlessly against him, fingers tangled in his hair, nails digging into his scalp.
He found himself nearly shaking from the intensity of the feeling roaring through him, his hands stroking a path down the flat of her stomach, lower still until he reached her inner thighs and eased them apart, his nose brushing the soft triangle of curls shielding her sex.
His tongue rubbed against her, teasing and caressing, Alex arching against his mouth in desperation for more, "Oh, gods."
He smiled against her thigh, pressed a few stray kiss against her hip and then eased a finger inside her, "Just me, sweetheart."
Her first climax shocked them both, unexpectedly taking her by storm, and she whimpered against the pain-pleasure of the release, fingers digging hard into his shoulders. Sparrow soothing caressed her hip, taking advantage of her high to bring her up again despite her weak protests.
Regret, prayer, praise, pleading…she wasn't sure what it was she was giving, but it was his name spilling through her lips in a breathless, steady mantra. His fingers worked steadily within her to bring her back to the edge and over, his mouth trailing wet kisses along her stomach. A touch of his thumb against her clit, his tongue grazing against a breast, and she came apart in his arms.
"You're an evil, evil…" She sighed, pressing a languid kiss to his shoulder. "Wonderful man."
He laughed, a dark, sensual sound, levering over her and running a calloused hand along the curves of her body. He used a muscled thigh to gently part her legs, her arms wrapping around his neck to draw him closer, and their bodies joined as one.
They had moved together with a smooth, steady rhythm, falling into the natural cadence that came with their bodies knowing each other so well. Sparrow dropped a slow path of kisses from her ear down to her collarbone, and back again. Alex ran her hands over the rippling muscles of his back and buttocks. He caressed the swell of her breast, brushing his thumb over the sensitive nipple. She shivered, slender fingers reaching up to stroke the nape of his neck.
There was a sense of peace about them, a quiet serenity swelling in his chest as he leaned into her touch with a sigh of content. Their pace slowed, their movements leisurely and unhurried. He stroked his thumb across the fullness of her mouth, her lips parting to gently suckle on the digit. He smiled, brushing light kisses against her cheek. She tilted her chin toward him, catching his mouth in a tender kiss.
He gave his hips a gentle lift and she responded to him, the two of them meeting in the slow rise and fall of their mating. He tilted his head, nuzzling her ear. "Do you know how much I cherish you?" he whispered, his voice low and husky in her ear.
She made a muffled sound in response, hooking one of her legs around his thigh. She pressed her heel into the small of her back, urging him to move, and Sparrow obediently rolled onto his back. The movement dislodged him and he grunted in protest. Alex straddled him, burying her hand in his hair to tug his head up, and pressed her lips to his ear.
"As much as I you," she then replied, sotto voce. She shifted against him as her body enveloped him inside her, his hips jerking upward to begin again a rhythm they had never been able to establish with any other soul. Her eyes closed as a breathy sound of pleasure left her, "As long as you don't stop."
He chortled, the sound dark and rich. "Wouldn't dream of it."
"Good," Alex retorted, lowering herself to him. She rocked against him, setting a slow, steady pace, his growl of pleasure resounding as he moved against her, moved with her.
"Sparrow." His name fell from her lips, low and sultry, as she levered over him, his hands falling upon her hips to steady her. He growled again, the deep sound reverberating as she kissed the hollow of his throat, her lips gliding over his skin in a light, teasing caress he could hardly bear.
Alex gasped with surprise when he suddenly reared up, his arms locking around her to press her hard against him. He paused for a moment, testing, and a whine rose up in her throat in disapproval of his sudden stilling. Their eyes met, hers hazy and his questioning. She held his gaze, pointedly grinding down on him.
She could nearly tangibly feel the moment his control snapped, finally. Her legs wrapped around him, just in time to hold on, as he bucked hard against her. He moved in firm, sharp thrusts, and her fingers gripped hard at his shoulders, clutching at him.
She mewled with approval when a particularly deep push hit a spot that made all the difference. He cupped her buttocks in his hands, lifting her until he was thrusting against that sensitive point again and again. She could feel the pleasure building, the hot coil in her abdomen tightening more and more. And then, she exploded.
She stilled above him, her head thrown back as she clenched hard around him. The glow enveloping her in her satisfaction filled him with full male pride. He held her as she rode out her climax, kissing her head as she sank back into his arms, soft and pliable.
She brushed her fingers down the side of his face, stroking her thumb against his stubbly cheek, and she tilted her head to whisper in his ear, "Your turn, Hero." She took his earlobe between her teeth, tugging lightly. "Take me."
Sparrow's loud, approving growl at the blatant invitation sent a shiver of thrill through her, her breath stolen as she found herself tossed onto her back.
He was pounding into her, rushing them both closer to that ultimate finish. He hooked his arms under her knees, lifting her to deepen his thrusts. He kept moving, taking her hard and fast, desperate for his release.
She cried out as her orgasm crashed over her, clawing at his back in desperation for some kind of purchase. She tightened around him in a vise-like grip, the friction too much for him to take. He grunted, groaned, and then roared as he came, his back arching and head thrown back in satisfaction.
He rolled over to lie beside her, Alex turning to her side to face him. He absently nuzzled against her neck, brushing a whisper of a kiss against her nape. She smiled at his, caressing his face, and he dropped soft kisses down her collarbone in quick succession.
She lay back again, sighing with lazy contentment as his body stretched out over hers like a living blanket, the softness of his lips trailing down her neck and shoulder a delightful, stirring caress.
She ran her hands down his back, feeling the subtle play of muscles contracting and relaxing. A thin sheen of sweat generated by their activities coated his torso, leaving his skin hot, wet, and slick beneath her touch. Her fingers traced the hollow between his shoulder blades, and she felt his explorations slowing, a show of affection rather than an attempt to arouse her.
He shifted to the side to rest his cheek against her hip, placing a hand on her lower abdomen. He pressed the heel there, fingers splaying out. "Do you think we made another?"
She laughed softly, resting her hand on top of his head. "Only time will tell, love."
His eyes lowered to half-mast shapes with lazy pleasure as she combed her fingers through his hair, his breath tickling against her skin every time he exhaled.
"'lex?"
The slurred shortening of her name was strangely endearing, and her lips curled into a smile, fingers smoothing over his forehead. "Hmm?"
He raised his head, his lips pursing into a frown. "Are you alright? Was I too rough at the end?" he paused for a moment, "Did I hurt you?"
Alex shook her head, soothingly stroking his cheek. "Mmm, no. I'm fine."
Sparrow continued to stare at her, his eyes measured and heavy with something she couldn't read. She cocked an eyebrow. "What? Do you need tending to your ego now? A performance critique?"
He gave her a sheepish smile and she urged him up, nudging his head down to meet her in a kiss. It was a slow, languorous exploration, and they were both smiling when they parted, Sparrow affectionately rubbing his nose against hers.
"It was wonderful," she told him, "As always."
He kissed her again, rolling onto his back. Alex stretched out beside him, molding to his side. She laid her head against his shoulder, lazily tracing a finger down his chest. "Can you stay the night?"
"Mmm, yes. I bargained with Theresa for midmorning. I can stay for breakfast with you and the children."
With the boyish grin on his face, dimples clearly showing, Alex found there was more than enough of her Sparrow, her Hero, left in the man lying beside her. She let out a happy sigh, nestling closer to him. Holding his wife, the mother of his children, in his arms, too drowsy in their post-coital embrace to care about much else, it was one of the most peaceful moments Sparrow could remember.
"It'll be alright, Sparrow," she whispered reassuringly, "Whatever happens, we'll get through it."
He closed his eyes, kissing the top of her head, and for the first time in months, just let himself breathe, the rest of the world be damned.
If only for a night.