A/N: I did my best to keep this original. The story, plot, and doings of the characters are entirely my own, but the actual characters, side from one, the places, the time era, are entirely Terry Brooks. Research was done, reminiscing what I had read of his these two books, combining them into one but farther into the future, and when it was needed, reference was made. You will note that since my calculating of times, places, and things is accurate (those of you who read Brooks will definitely see this). So please, enjoy two worlds combining into one under the strangest of circumstances. Brin and Little Red are two of my favorite characters from his Shannara series, as you will be able to blatantly tell. Reviews are always welcome, good or bad.
She couldn't kiss him. She just, couldn't.
Brin Ohmsford closed her eyes and let out a weary sigh.
"What now?" Lian Ruus held Brin's hand tightly in his own. She had been so distant, so cold lately, he didn't know what to make of it, and he didn't like it. Their relationship, it had gone sour it seemed, messing everything up that he had planned so carefully. And there was no reason for it to be like it was.
His green elf eyes met her deep brown depths. He just wanted to understand. Pushing back a strand of her dark hair, he tried to get into her mind, reading it, feeling it, but she was blocked off. That much was obvious. He could feel the wall, and from the wince he had encountered while he was pushing her hair back from her face, he knew that she knew he was attempting it. And stopping him.
"Lian, no." Brin stood up, purple sash following her slender form as she walked to the nearest bay window.
"Brin. What is wrong? We haven't been the same since I don't know when, and it is not one bit fair that you keep me in the dark. You are my girlfriend, near fiancé, and I have a right to know what the hell is going on in your head."
Brin's fingers clenched the satin curtain, head bowing just slightly. "You wouldn't understand."
He huffed, hands planting on his hips. "And why wouldn't I?"
Her eyes flashed and she turned to him, lower lip protruding defiantly. "Because you're closed minded. And you have never listened to me before."
His eyebrows rose just slightly, smirk on his face. "Me, not listen to you?" he snickered, "Brin, you are closed minded. I have listened to you numerous times, darling."
"Oh really?" she backfired, rage burning through her veins. She could swear she almost saw red. This whole time, for three years of her life, since she had been given up her journey to help save Shannara, since the Ellcrys had miraculously, with help of Allanon, and her wishsong, been restored, she had wasted her time with this… this heathen of an elf who had all along had no respect, not even a little, for her.
It made her sick. And she was only just realizing it.
"You…" she ground out, "Are a ruthless, despicable elf." her cheeks burned as she fought back tears she knew she could not let him see.
Boots clicking lightly against the hard wood floor, Lian paced carelessly, as if he were having a normal conversation with a pal. He crossed his arms behind his back, fingers twittering mindlessly with the back of his coat. He huffed angrily.
"You always drive me to such anger." he shouted, green eyes turning a deep purple. "You make me mad enough to want to…" he bit his tongue. "Forget it. I wouldn't bother wasting my time on a dreary little thing such as yourself. The only reason I ever took any sort of interest in your was because you're the famous Brin Ohmsford, healer of the Ellcrys. Do you know how many men wanted you?" he bit off. "Do you?"
Brin nearly flinched, but held her ground, chin defiantly at an angle as her brown eyes glittered with rage into his own. "Yes, I do. And if my father hadn't spoken so highly of you I never would've looked twice."
Lian laughed, a loud, musty, awful laugh that made Brin's bones clamor in her own body.
"My dear, dear girl." he paused, head lowering, walking silently towards her, eyes growing a deeper purple. "One must work hard to impress Wil Ohmsford, son of Shea Ohmsford, the holder of the Sword of Shannara."
He was toe to toe with her, and though he was nearly a foot taller, Brin met his cold stare with her own.
He smirked. "You're mother would be proud. You always had your father's cool temperament, your brother was the one to receive the fire your mother possessed. It's quite a pity she died before she could see you now."
"Yes, well, one learns many things when responsibility of a more, relevant source, occurs." she stood her ground.
"My dear girl, did you never know that I only want to marry you for your name? For your wishsong, for the power it entails me??"
She cocked her head thoughtfully. "Did it ever occur to you, sir, that perhaps that is why I did not take many suitors?"
"Touché."
"Indeed. Please leave." her voice was mesmerizing, even when stern.
"Brin, we had a deal. You promised to marry me. You gave me your oath."
"Two years ago, Lian. When you were different, before I knew things." she turned, glancing over her shoulder, "Before you betrayed me and got this heinous idea that our children would inherit my wishsong."
"You're a stubborn ass." he snorted. "Seriously though, I do love you."
"You love me as much as you love being an elf. You've stated yourself many times how much you hate your heritage. So why would you want anything to do with a Valewoman like me? What? So you can drain out your lineage? And replace it with the wishsong power?" she heaved an aggravated sigh. "Just leave. And please, do not return, sir."
Lian's features changed at that moment, face turning an angry red, eyes glowing purple. Electricity singed through the room, and both locked eyes, anger flaring in both.
"Do not test me. Remember, you are just a Valewoman." his voice was low, menacing.
Brin's face didn't flinch, didn't falter. "You only remind me constantly. Like I said, just leave, sir, and do not come back. I mean it. Everything you have ever said to me has been a lie. And I only truly see it now. Now leave."
Lian clenched his fists, voice mumbling incoherent words. Brin paused, breathing gently, hearing the old Elvin tongue spilling from his mouth. His words frightened her. She couldn't clearly understand what he was saying, but she knew it wasn't for the better.
She span around eyes widening as she watched his entire form glow a morbid black, hands clenched, body stone rigid.
Spells had been outlawed for a cause only few understood, but she was one of them. After the journey, on her return home, magic of the dark sort had been forbidden by Elves because many had lost their lives to it, being either unable to control it, or it being used against them. No one could truly stop one from using it, but if one was caught using it, they would be banned, cursed, locked away.
Brin felt herself shake, her body slowly contorting to what she knew was a dark spell that only she knew how to fight off.
Closing her eyes, she focused all her energy into herself, summoning up the wishsong. She had vowed to never use it unless it was truly needed, unless life or death was at stake, and even then barely intervening to let fate take it's course.
Fighting the powerful words that were flowing into her mind, closing off the wishsong, she pulled her mind farther into her private place, and the hum got louder.
Moments later the dark words were a mere annoyance from Lian, not as loud and clear as they once had been, more like a slight murmur, like someone whispering in your ear, and you barely hearing it, let alone understanding it. It was almost like a gentle breeze caressing your ear, or a lover telling you they love you in the softest tone imaginable.
The wishsong took her over, and she felt it burst from her body, encasing her in a warm aura, scaring away anything dark and unimaginably demonic.
Nothing could break her trance. Nothing could stop her. Nothing could make this song diminish. Not. One. Thing.
And then, darkness.
Lian watched in complete shock as Brin's body almost gracefully spilt to the floor.
He looked around, slightly stunned, his body still tense with the dark emotions coursing through him. Holy heck, he hadn't killed her, had he?
The dark words given to him by the Maelmord before it had disappeared because of the wishsong and Allanon were strong, but he didn't think they were that strong.
He cursed gently to himself. What was done was done, he supposed.
He walked to her, bending slightly to feel for a pulse. A gentle beat caressed his finger tips, and he almost sighed with relief. So the little witch wasn't dead, not yet at least.
Lian stood up, regaining his composure. Jair was off doing some sort of journey of his own, leaving his wife and kids behind, and Wil was asleep down the hall.
His fight with Brin had been so heated, he hadn't known what to do.
Using his newly found gift seemed right at the time, in fact, it seemed completely appropriate. He had vowed that if Brin wouldn't cooperate the calm way. Drastic measures had to be taken.
And they had, oh yes they had. Now everything could fall into place, just as they were supposed to, gently, and beautifully, and exactly as he had envisioned it.
He rolled her body over, looking at the pretty features she had.
You know, it was sad she was so pretty. Her mother had been a plain pretty, and how Brin came out one would never know. She had her flaws, but they made her beautiful. And the wishsong was the best part of all. All that power, encased in one tiny Valewoman, who knew nothing of the true powers of evil. She had evaded her destiny with the Ellcrys quite sneakily, blast that Allanon.
Perhaps it had been all in well and in good time for his own plans though. Perhaps it had happened just so he could bring about destruction again, except more powerful this time. He was already in with the father and Jair. It was a pity Brin had caught on. For someone so tiny, so insignificantly bound to this world, someone quite, in his eyes, stupid, she was quite smart. Damn girl.
He pulled her body up from the floor, tossing her carelessly onto the big comforter by the fireplace. Her bed was nothing more than a ramshackle little thing, she hadn't allowed the fame of being the saver of the Ellcrys get to her, she had remained humble, and the pitiful sack of a bed that she was now laying on proved it. If he had enough guts he would lay on her with it, but being as her father was, he knew he would never allow it to withstand.
He felt her pulse again. It had slowed. Little brat had gotten herself into something this time. Using the wishsong after so long, and not being careful about it. How foolish could one little wench be?
It could, after all, ultimately mean her very life.
Lian smiled at that. Perhaps things hadn't gone completely as planned. Maybe when the feisty little thing woke up she'd be more cooperative. Or maybe it would just cause her the very breath she breathed. The wishsong wasn't something to mess around with one's life.
He smirked. "Worthless for all but the wishsong."
Her life. That's all he had wanted after all.
