*grins* here it is, a new chapter...took a while, real life kind of took over, enjoy...
Three days after Beltain...
Nuada pulled Pen closer to him, relishing in the feel of her skin against his. She snuggled in close and nuzzled softly. The last three mornings had been spent around the enclave tending to various annoyances, the nights were spent in each other's arms. Almost from the hour they'd returned from the fields, he told Wink to find other lodgings, he wanted no other man to be in her presence. She continued to nuzzle, her teeth softly nipping the skin. He let out a soft sound, giving her assent to her explorations of his body. He had only begun to teach her the pleasure that could be had with a skillful lover, there would be many lessons.
He tangled his fingers in her hair when he felt her breath brush against his stomach. He tugged gently, not wanting her to learn too quickly. She responded with a soft kiss on his hip and her fingers beginning their exploration. He shifted so he could watch the expressions on her face as she discovered his reactions to her gentle and hesitant touches.
She watched in awe as the skin sheathing the head moved back and forth to the movement of her fingers over it. She knew most elves were "intact" not understanding why humans "Mutilated" themselves for something simple as ethicists. Some elves were larger than the average male, Nuada was no exception to this. She listened as her fingers brought soft gasps from his lips, until the sheath didn't quite cover the tip anymore. His hand stopped hers.
"Enough..." He breathed. "We will not waste this night in love play..."
He pulled her on top of him, moaning as she settled herself upon him.
With a careful stretch, he raised his hands above his head and gripped the bed post. He moaned when she began to move, leaning up to tie his hands to it with one of his sashes. He was not usually one for this particular form of love play, but he wanted her to learn to have a "Proper seat" when "riding". He gently tugged at the knot, feeling it tighten slightly. He then nodded when she softly asked if he was ready. She began moving, her hands upon his shoulders.
Soon enough he was tugging at the knot with every arch of his body, his hands trying to grip something as his senses were focused upon her. Kisses were heated with need and urgency as they began to reach for their goal. Release arched his body off the bed, her clinging as she followed.
The Sixth moon...
Nuada was disappointed when her monthly courses came, but thought nothing of it. It usually took several moths for elvish women to conceive. He hoped she would grow ripe with his child before he had to depart, something to remember him by. He could not help but think of a small child, an image of a son with her jade eyes; or perhaps a daughter with her dark hair.
It pained him, these thoughts, often they would become jumbled with others. He would look at one of his hands, as if he saw blood upon it. He had not ventured to question after the wood elf after the celebration. He had a horrid feeling it wasn't just a stag he'd slaughtered with his bare hands. He would close that hand into a fist, wanting to smash it into something to erase the blood he saw upon it.
When it would get too much, she seemed to appear with a soft word or a gentle touch. Even drawing him into lovemaking if that was what it too to distract him. He would lay quiet in her arms, letting her fingers trace the planes and ridges of his face. The scar across it seemed a particular fascination for her, and he let her trace it again and again, his heart lifted by her touch.
"...Do not go to war..." She said one night. "Stay here and raise our children..."
How she knew he would leave to continue his war, he did not know. Her tone was not pleading, nor condoling, just simple fact.
"If you go to war, you will die..."
"I will not die, I will return for you...and if the gods are kind, our child."
She shook her head. "Your death clings to you like a shadow..."
He looked down into her face and kissed her forehead.
"...Then I will need your light to drive it away..."
"I can not drive away what is so deeply rooted in your soul..." She said, kissing his lips.
After that, he was left to wonder what she meant by his death being rooted in his soul.
As the days to Litha passed, Wink watched a change come over the prince. Nuada was the most lively he'd seen in centuries, more like the boy he'd met in the tunnels around the Dublin market. To see some aspect of that boy again delighted him. The fact that the prince was in love and blind to anything but the girl delighted him too. Seeing him so happy for the first time in an age, took his mind off what would happen when they would have to leave. Again they would be at war with the humans, endangering all of them once more.
Wink still followed Pen when she would slip away in the early dawn. Her martial routine had become faster, perhaps to counter elvish speed and grace. Her work with the swords became soother, more practiced. He could not help but see Nuada at the end of one when she turned and executed a pivot thrust.
One day, she looked up and saw him standing just outside her little clearing. She had noticed him there before, but had thought him just another observer.
"...Peace." She said. "You've been standing there a while haven't you?"
He gave a soft nod, he understood the common tongue but did not speak it.
"You're Wink is it?"
He nodded, he'd given his name to the healers so they could tell him what was going on with the Prince.
"You're Nuada's companion..."
again he nodded.
"You won't tell him I've been out?"
He shook his head, he wouldn't tell the prince a damn thing until it was time.
"You've traveled with him a long time, haven't you."
He nodded, making an Ogerish noise of agreement. He watched her gather up her practice swords and conceal them in an oak hollow.
"When you and Nuada leave..." She smiled. "Make sure he lives...whatever war he intends to wage will cost him so much."
He nodded, then indicated he'd escort her back to the enclave.
"Thank you, I'd be grateful for the company..."
Wink gave her one soft nod, wondering if she had the gift of sight as well as the gifts of a singer.
Two weeks to Midsummer...
Nuada watched Pen preparing a meal, even the simplest of her movements held him in rapture. The other women around her noticed him and with a few whispers, got her to blush. He came into the kitchen and took a spot at the warn table, taking up a knife and a few carrots.
"You don't need to help me with dinner." She said, smiling as she watched him deftly peel the carrots without much effort. "I can handle it."
"I wish to be with you. There is little else to do, and I am a guest I wish to repay the enclave's hospitality."
She smiled as she worked on a few more of the early root vegetables.
"...The elders have said you will leave at Samhain..."
He looked up at her, then nodded.
"I shall be back to my full strength then, and I must return..." He said, cutting the carrots carefully. "I will be saddened to leave..."
She leaned across the table, giving him a soft peck upon his cheek. The women around them giggled when she pulled back. He gave her one of those cocky grins and returned to chopping carrots.
Later that evening...
The elders of the enclave called both Pen and Nuada to council. The crone and sage positioned them across from each other, having them clasp opposite hands. The words that were spoken, Pen did not understand; not fully. Nuada however, knew each and every one. The words of the scared marriage, binding the king to the land in the form of the maiden. Their hands were bound, and led to a room.
It was there, the vows were consummated, eagerly though not so much as the night of Beltain. Their hands remained bound well into the night. It was well after moon set that Pen used her free hand to trace the lines of Nuada's face.
"...I belong to you..." He whispered. "Now until the end of time..."
She shook her head in the dim light, "Then we've not long at all..."
He pulled her close to him. "Then all time is this moment..."
She ran her hand down his chest, feeling a scar that was very real to her eyes. She knew it was not there, not yet.
"...You won't petition them to remain, will you?"
He shook his head, "I would bring danger here, and I will not bring darkness to this place."
"Have you not already with with resides in you?"
he closed his eyes, how deep did she know.
"...It will consume you." She said softly, tracing a very real scar on his side. "It will be an act of love that ends your war and your life."
He held her, "Do you have the gift of sight?"
she shook her head. "It was once told to me by an old woman...Much like the crone. I was very young, but I remember." She pulled him against her, her knee sliding up between his legs, "She told me I would mourn my heart twice over, but I would gain it back again."
He made a soft noise when her knee gently rubbed. He rolled so she was on top, pulling her against his chest.
"Speak not of mourning, not when joy will come of this..."
she shifted to lay at his side, her free hand moving to touch and arouse. He made a soft noise as she leaned over and licked the mark on his shoulder. He pulled her close again , drawing into the oldest dance.
The Week before midsummer...
Nuada knew Pen rose early and would usually return a short while later with breakfast and a most delightful good morning. Like himself, her clothing hid how lithe she was. He was saddened that his seed hadn't taken root as of yet. It was almost near the fullness of the mother's bounty and he longed to see her grow ripe with his child before he had to depart.
He watched her sleep, curled in the shelter of his body. He held her close to him, wanting to put every moment in his memory. Deep within he wanted a reason to stay, to find some peace after the long centuries of war. He could not stay, and he knew he could not because of his own foolish quest. For a moment, he wished he had never encouraged his father to have the army built...
Nuada's feelings about humans did not change, not even getting to know the small band who shared the enclave with the Sidhe changed his mind or attitude to them as a species. Pen would quietly shake her head at this, never telling him what his eyes would one day register. She was enough alike in her mannerisms and speech to pass for one of the Fey, but any truly looking at her would know her for human. It hurt to know how deeply he hated, a hollow part so filled that she doubted he even knew how deep it was.
Litha...
Every one was out in the summer sun, drinking, dancing and talking of the handfastings that would soon be taking place. The one that was on everyone's lips was of the prince, rumor said he had come to the enclave in the dead of night and left early the next morning. Only Nuada knew the truth, he'd been there for months. He looked at Pen, true enough he'd spoken vows to her, ones he would have to honor even if he took a queen. He would have to acknowledge and provide for any children as well.
He looked to see Pen approaching, a wreath of flowers in her hair. She stopped before him, smiling. His expression took that smile from her face. He reached out and pulled her close to him, holding her against his chest.
"...you shouldn't stray so far, little singer." He said softly. "You worry me when you do."
She looked up at him, he a good head and shoulders taller. He brushed fingers across her face.
"I was just talking to the priestess, comparing a recipe or two."
He smirked, reaching for one of the full mugs as the tray went by. Human brewed spirits had little effect, but their flavor was remarkable.
"...I wish you to stay at my side tonight..."
"Is there something wrong?"
"No, I just prefer you to stay with me." He said, keeping one arm around her. "...I wish to sneak off for a swim..."
She smirked, their last swim ended up on the banks several yards from a group of fishermen. It had been delightful even if they had to keep quiet.
"Then I will join you, there is little for us to do now that things are underway." She said. "We could go back to..."
He gave her a bone melting grin, he knew exactly where to take her for their swim.
"...The mill pond." He said. "and I will be keeping my pants well in sight..."
She suppressed a giggle, the miller had found Nuada's pants in the water wheel the day after that little escapade. She'd had to borrow him one of her skirts to return in, and that had turned into another little escapade she remembered fondly.
"Perhaps I should dress you in a kilt this time..."
He had seen several men in the short garment, he could see the advantages of one but had no intention of putting tender parts up against wool.
"if it were not wool, I would be glad for it."
She laughed. "There are ones of good broad cloth and easily made..."
He looked down at her. "perhaps I shall wish for one then..."
she grinned, she'd have to take measurements, but one could easily be made for him.
"Let us go, before someone else gets the idea that swimming in the mill pond is a wonderful way to pass the day."
He smiled, turning toward the pond.
Several hours later...
Nuada lay on the bank, wonderfully naked as the cool summer breeze dried his skin. His garments were a bit farther up the bank and well away from the water. Pen lay next to him, equitably naked and content. She was tracing the scars upon his skin, even the one that had sent he and Wink seeking shelter at the enclave. Only a few short moons had he would leave, this peace and the woman/child who granted it. Perhaps it was fate she was not yet pregnant, a sign that he should stay and forget his war.
He knew he could not, would not end it. Not while humans destroyed all around them, for a moment he felt the weight of the antler crown upon his temples and looked to see her hand resting upon his face. He turned his head to look at her, her expression was one of wistfulness.
"...I too wish I could stay..." He said softly.
"I know, there will be a child..." She said.
He hoped with all his heart there would be.