Fade from Black

Author's note:

Somehow, it seems to me, that there must have been a terrifying intamacy that first morning. I have not seen it treated so much in writing as is the night iteslf. Please let me know if you found it real, and if it seemed like them.

I should also say, this owes something to Dorothy Sayers, Busman's Honeymoon, who treated the morning-after, and of couse did it better. Thanks for reading. SJH

Elissa Cousland rose through the thickets of clinging sleep. Something was different. Happily different. She felt no urgency about it, but let her drowsy mind fumble. She was in her tent-- but how wonderful – she was not curled in a shivering ball as she had been every morning for the past two months. There was frost outside, but she herself was warm, warm and liquid, languid to her bones.

She had been dreaming. She reached back for the memory and pulled. There had been a great bear...remnants of fairy tales...."Somebody's sleeping in my bed, and he's still there" She opened her eyes.

Oh. Alistair. He was. He was right there, sleeping beside her. He was real and warm, he was snoring slightly, and he smelled delicious.

So this was it. This was how it was, and would be. Blight or no, right time or not, they had walked through that last door together.

She could hear the autumn wind blowing over the peak of the tent. It was coming in through the small rips and moth holes. Something clanked outside. How kind the day was, to start without them. What would the day bring? When would he wake? What would he say when he did?

"Alistair?" She said softly. He snored on, undisturbed.

A small dusty sunbeam had reached his face. It lighted the faint fair stubble of his jaw. It shone on the curve where his nose curved down to meet his lip. Elissa had spent a great deal of time in the last year considering Alistair's body. There had been days when she tried to quench her awareness of it, made clumsy by his nearness, and his sweet unconscious grace. Could it really be that he didn't know how he looked? Still, in all those burning hours she had never turned her attention to this nose/lip junction. How lovely it was, how delightful and innocent as he lay asleep.

Enough of this.

Elissa took the end of her pony-tail and tickled the nose/lip with it.

Alistair's snores stopped abruptly. His mouth lifted in a comical sneer, and his eyes opened.

"Hi." Elissa said, and she bumped his naked knee with hers, aware of the differentness of him, his lanky bone and bristle.

Alistair's eyes were brown and soft, his pupils were huge. "Maker," he breathed, "It was real." His fingers touched her cheeks, her mouth, as if to confirm. "I dreamed it was a dream." He said.

"Elissa, I need – I want to ask." His brows drew down, "How much did I h-hurt you? Last night." His voice broke slightly. " I mean, I couldn't tell, then. It was so good, and I think I just pushed – "

Elissa caught his hand, and brought the palm to her kiss, she folded his fingers shut to hold it.

"I think we both pushed, Alistair. I wanted it too. Wanted you. I am so glad it was you. And it was perfect."

"Really?"

"Oh, yes, really. It only hurt for a moment. I didn't care. It was not as bad as, say, slamming your hand in a door, or dropping a shield on your foot."

Elissa took a deep breath. "In fact," she said, "I could go again."

She reached down for him. "Seems as if you could go again too." Alistair arched against her sharply, even as he shook his head. "No, I mean, I want to. I do. But this --" he gestured "This is just because it's morning."

"What? You must reeely like breakfast."

"Oh, I do." Alistair leered outrageously "Oh oatmeal... But really, you know, all men wake up this way."

"What!"

The laughter that erupted from her shook them both.

"Are you sure?"

"Dear lady, I was a Templar. You know, uniforms, pillow fights, barracks, no privacy. I am quite sure."

"But--" Elissa was on her back now, giggling helplessly. "All men. Irving, Teagan, Duncan, S-s-Sten."

Alistair stood up. "I'm glad you think it's funny.." But he was smiling too,

"I'm going to find a tree." he said.

"I'll be here. "

"Alistair?" He turned to look at her, his hand on the tent flap, he was speckled with sunlight, luminous and astonishing.

"Alistair, please hurry."