Chapter 9

Present Day

When Mairwen returned to conciousness over an hour later, the light was failing in the clearing. The small fire Jehann had set was established and by the looks of it, had been burning for some time, casting its light in long streaks across the dim space. Behind her, she heard Echo whicker softly and shift, his bridle making a soft clinking sound as it slid along the bone of his nose, and she rolled her head toward the fire, seeking her companion.

The act of turning her head caused no pain, and she frowned slightly, startled. It had been so long since she'd actually been free of pain that the absence of it left her feeling almost incomplete… the pain had been so constant and so severe, and she'd lived with it for so long, that instead of feeling whole and healthy, she felt almost empty.

Not that she was complaining, she amended silently. She could very happily get accustomed to moving without pain again.

Jehann's form was dim, seated as he was on the other side of the fire, and she relaxed when she found him with her eyes. From her vantage point it seemed they were alone in the clearing, but she was currently too comfortable to bother looking around for Patrick… he was no longer threatening to her. She couldn't see Jehann's eyes in the dusk light, but she could make out his form, and smiled sleepily. "Hail, mage."

He felt the corners of his mouth tilt in a small smile and he nodded, gratified to hear no rasp to her voice anymore. "Hail, paladin."

Still smiling, she stretched, freeing her arms from the blanket she was covered in and reaching above her head, feeling her muscles stretch and lengthen without complaint. Sighing in pleasure, she looked to him again. "I feel so… different," she exclaimed. "It seems I had lived with so much discomfort that I had ceased to notice it. Until now… until it was gone."

Jehann regarded her quietly. "Then our young priest did indeed put you back together."

She tested her arms, sitting slowly and leaning back on them. "It would appear so." Looking around, she lifted a brow in question. "He's left?"

Jehann nodded, leaning forward to stir the fire. "Half an hour ago. He used his hearthstone to return to the Sepulcher."

She nodded speculatively. "I would have liked to thank him." Looking to Jehann, seeing his face illuminated in the firelight as he poked the embers, she remembered her revelation before she'd fallen asleep and wondered, with a twist in her heart, how she was supposed to act as if she didn't feel the way she felt. She'd never been very good at deception… nor had subterfuge or subtlety ever been easy for her.

And now, she'd lost the neutral refuge of her poor health… by the feel of it, as soon as she started eating real food, she'd start to regain her strength. And once that began, it wouldn't be long before she was sufficiently well to forge ahead on her own, releasing Jehann from the constant risk he was taking by travelling with her.

Jehann, meanwhile, was oblivious to her sobering thoughts, and smiled. "Patrick knows you appreciate his work," he assured her. "He also wanted me to extend to you his wish that you lead a long healthy life… that you'd be doing him a disservice after all of his hard work by dying before your time."

Snorting gently, she chuckled. "I suppose I'll have to try to accommodate him," she drawled, sitting up fully and facing the fire. Extending her hands, she splayed them before the flames, letting the heat sink into her, warming her to the core. She glanced to him. "You mentioned earlier that you had bought food?"

He paused, then gave a harsh laugh as he stood and moved to Echo,

rummaging in the saddlebag. "I did indeed," he said wryly, returning to her and kneeling. Handing her the small package, his lips curved. "And then promptly forgot all about it. My apologies."

She smiled, taking the food from him and unwrapping it. He'd procured dried meat, real baked bread and several bottles of melon juice, but what had her gasping in delight was the fruit. She hadn't had fresh fruit in longer than she could remember, and immediately sank her teeth into a bright red apple, sighing in pleasure. Mouth full, she looked to him and rolled her eyes appreciatively. "Heaven. Thank you, Jehann."

Amused, he stood, returning to his spot across from her. "I wouldn't push my conjured bread on my worst enemy," he admitted, and she laughed softly around her second bite. The apple was tart and delicious, and better, her stomach accepted it easily.

As she ate, Jehann fought with himself. He had so many questions to ask her about what she'd been up to over the past 7 years, but all of them would inevitably lead back to the past… there was only so far back he thought it wise to go, lest he be cornered into letting her see what was in his heart, and he wasn't willing to risk that.

However, there was another face that had frequented his thoughts over the years, almost as much as her own, and finally he spoke softly. "Mairwen… what's become of Oliver?"

She paused, looking down and swallowing her bite. "Oliver fights in Icecrown for your Queen."

Surprised, Jehann lifted a brow. "Indeed? I never thought of him as the fighting type."

Her lips curved bitterly. "No, he's not. He was content in his work in the Undercity… training aspiring rogues satisfied him. No," she sighed, passing the apple core to Echo and smiling when it was gratefully accepted, "his deployment was not voluntary."

Jehann's eyes sharpened. "Not voluntary?"

"No," she said calmly, looking across to him steadily. "The best we could come up with when he received word that he was to relocate is that someone in the city had noticed his monthly absences… and assumed he was entertaining a cross-faction affair." She smirked… the smile held no warmth. "Or, worse, that he was feeding information to the enemy. And since your kind generally feel that everyone is the enemy, even other members of the Horde, the possibilities were too strong for your Queen to ignore. They couldn't prove anything, of course… and as a trainer, he was in a secure enough position to avoid execution. Since that option was denied them, however, they did the next best thing and sent him to Icecrown to fight in your Queen's name."

Jehann was fascinated to hear of the fate of his old friend. "I guess I always assumed he was still visiting you," he admitted. Somehow the thought that her brother still visited had eased the pain that he himself wasn't, and learning the truth now was disconcerting.

Her smile turned sad. "Oliver hasn't been to visit me in over 5 years."

He blinked, shocked. "He's been gone that long!" he exclaimed. When she nodded, he fell silent, processing the news.

She'd been alone for 5 years?

Guilt warred within him. It had, after all, ultimately been his decision to sever the friendship… he'd done so with the security that Oliver, as her brother, would always be there for her.

A sudden thought had his eyes closing in frustration on her behalf. As a human, she wouldn't be notified if he was killed in the line of duty… so for all she knew, he'd been dead these past 5 years.

And she'd never know differently unless he walked into her cottage himself.

His eyes narrow in frustration, he said, "You should have gotten in touch with me. I could have kept you aware of your brother's fate."

She sent him an incredulous look and snorted. "Forgive me, Jehann," she said drily, "but surely even you can see how I might have hesitated in contacting you."

He paused, flushing slightly. Of course she would have, he thought tiredly. The last time they'd spoken, he'd asked her to never seek him out. Suddenly feeling like an ass, he shot her a strangely apologetic look. "I would have considered the fate of your brother a worthy excuse to reach out," he said stiffly.

She shook her head, weary. "I promised you'd never hear from me again. Not even Oliver's fate could allow me to forget that." She shot him a look from out of the corner of her eye. "Besides… when he was first sent away, my pride stung still after our last meeting. And by the time enough time had passed to sufficiently soothe it, I had more or less accepted that he was most probably…" she stopped talking, the hoarse sound to her voice belying her claim that she'd accepted her brother's likely death. Falling silent, she cleared her throat and looked away.

He studied her carefully. "You reached out to me in the Undercity," he felt the need to point out, and she flushed slightly, shifting awkwardly.

She sighed deeply, resigned, and met his eyes. "I know," she conceded weakly. "And the fact that I was not in my right mind does nothing to ease the guilt I feel now." Her eyes stricken, she swallowed. "I regret it and apologize from the bottom of my heart. I never meant to cause you any inconvenience."

Stunned, he blinked, before her words sunk in and he felt a flash of irritation. "Guilt? Regret?" The thought that she regretted asking for him hurt more than he cared to admit. "I would never have expected my presence to cause you such negative emotions." His voice clipped and hurt, he made to stand. "If you're able," he said shortly, "Southshore is still several nights of travel ahead of us. We should be on our way."

"Jehann," she said sharply, stopping him in mid-rise. "Sit down."

Eyes narrow, he paused before easing himself back to the ground, facing her. She was sitting up straight, glaring at him. "Feeling sorry for yourself will not help anything," she snapped. "I feel justified in my regret… after all, I've gone 7 years refraining from getting in touch with you. The fact that I was weak enough to do so in my previous state does little to ease my conscience."

He was frustrated. "Mairwen, you're not a stupid woman by any means. Surely even you can see there might have been extenuating circumstances that rendered my last request beside the point."

She shook her head. "I'm afraid not." When he made a frustrated noise, she felt a rush of anger rise in her chest… she'd been stifling her anger with him for 7 long years, and seeing him trying to avoid taking responsibility for their mutual silence over the years was more than she could handle. "You made it perfectly clear," she said hotly, "that you wanted nothing more to do with me. You never wanted to hear from me again." Eyes hot and angry, she snapped, "If you're finding that decision difficult to live with now, Jehann, I'm afraid I can't be sympathetic."

He was startled by the anger in her voice, but he met it with his own. He'd spent 7 years angry at himself for his weakness… first in falling in love in the first place, later for his weakness on those long nights when he came so close to returning to her. Hearing her voice spelling out one of his biggest insecurities was grating.

He held himself stiffly. "I made that decision," he said carefully, keeping a tight rein on his anger, "because it was the right thing to do."

She made a scoffing sound, throwing her hands in the air. "You made that decision on behalf of us both!" she cried. "Not once did you ask me what I thought, what I felt, and heaven forbid, what I wanted! You knew best, as you always do, and now you're feeling that maybe you were a bit harsh? That maybe you missed important events in your friends' lives because of your pig-headed paranoia? Too late, Jehann," she spat. "You're 7 years late coming to your senses, and you have no one to blame but yourself."

His face was held so stiffly, his shoulders pulled back so far, that she wondered how he didn't shatter into a million pieces. Taking a long, shaky breath, he said very quietly, "I did what I felt to be the best thing for us both, Mairwen." His voice was tight and trembled with the effort to contain his anger, and she recognized how truly close he was to losing his temper with her.

Good, she thought viciously. It was about damn time they'd had it out.

"You did no such thing," she said harshly, pointing to him. "You did what you had to do to protect YOURSELF. Because the Light forbid you find some stolen happiness in this world!" Her voice was rising, fraying at the edges as tears threatened. "And there I was, the foolish little human who simply didn't understand the way the world worked! Such an excellent excuse you had to hide from life! If the paladin was too naïve to understand, then I guess you'd better make the decision for both of you. Is that about how it went in that rot-infested brain of yours?"

His control stretched another inch and for a moment, she thought he'd manage to keep hold of it… and then it snapped.

Coming to his feet in a graceful rush, he glared down at her, his glowing eyes flashing in anger. "You have no idea the sacrifice I made to keep you safe," he said hotly, watching her brows snap together in anger at his words. He held up his hand. "Let me finish," he said sharply. "It's hardly fair to rip me a new one without allowing me the same privilege."

Despite herself, she felt a flash of amusement sneak through the anger, and she settled reluctantly. "I doubt if you're capable," she muttered. "Your insults were always sub-par."

His eyes narrowed. "I don't intend to insult you," he snapped. "Unlike you, I feel no need to sling barbs when the truth will suffice."

Her eyes narrowed further and he continued smoothly, breathing deep to maintain control over his voice. "Now," he said with deceptive calm, "I stand by my decision seven years ago. I did what I had to do to ensure you were safe."

She snorted. "To ensure your own safety, perhaps."

He glared at her and turned away, feeling the fire warm his back. "My own safety," he said tightly, "has never been much of a concern to me. Yours, on the other hand," he continued, turning back to face her, "quickly became my top priority."

"My safety," she repeated tightly. "That has nothing to do with my happiness." When his head whipped around to her, startled, she glared at him defiantly as she took advantage of his surprise to continue. "After all our times spent together," she said defiantly, "I would have hoped that my happiness would have become a priority as well."

He was stunned to hear her acting so… well, so self-righteous. Her voice bordered on petulant, and he faced her, forcing himself to be patient. "Mairwen," he said tightly, "you speak as though we were a couple… as though we were romantically involved." He swallowed. "That was not the case."

"As if I need to be reminded of that yet again," she muttered. "I'm well aware of the nature of our 'relationship' the day you left, Jehann."

The conversation, as far as he was concerned, had crossed over into the faintly ridiculous, and he snorted, laughing sharply. "Mairwen," he laughed, knowing his laughter would do little to soothe her temper, "a romantic connection between us was the last thing I wanted."

He was about to continue when he saw her face. The color in her cheeks, high with anger, quickly drained, and she took on a haunted, beaten look. Snapping his mouth shut, he suddenly cursed himself for being so carelessly cruel, and made a tentative move towards her.

She shied away, the movement slight but enough to have him stopping helplessly. Her eyes slid from his face to the ground and she felt an odd mixture of shame and embarrassment. She cleared her throat. "I… I know."

He watched her carefully and she lifted her eyes to meet his. "I know you never wanted me that way," she said softly. She paused, then sent him a small, defeated smile. "But I can't apologize for the fact that I felt differently."

He groaned, turning away again. God DAMMIT, he thought harshly, screwing his eyes closed. He'd always been grateful to her that she'd never put voice to the feelings he'd suspected she had… it had made it that much easier to pretend that things between them were strictly platonic.

Apparently all bets were off, he thought shakily, if she were putting voice to them now.

The fact that they couldn't be together hadn't changed, he knew. Now or 7 years ago, the facts were still the same. But perhaps it would be better to face this situation honestly, to finally face it together.

"You're wrong," he sighed wearily, not turning back to her. Her silence asked him to continue. Swallowing, he continued. "The fact that we couldn't be together had nothing to do with the fact that I didn't want to be. To be honest," he sighed, turning back to face her, "I thought of little else."

Her brows drew together as she watched him approach. Lowering himself to the ground beside her wearily, she shook her head, her anger gone. "Then why," she asked softly, her voice plaintive, "did you leave? If you felt the same way?"

He looked over to her, meeting her eyes, and his lips twisted ironically. "I could easily picture myself in your life," he said. "But when I pictured you in mine, tied to a Forsaken… I didn't feel I had the right to force that life on you." He shook his head, drawing his knees up under his robes and wrapping his arms around them. "You deserve far more than the life I could give you."

She shook her head, perplexed. "Jehann… don't you think that might be my decision to make, and not yours to make for me?"

He sighed. "In this case," he said regretfully, "I'm afraid not. I had to do what I felt I needed to do in order to ensure you the best life possible. Being with me wasn't it." He met her eyes quietly. "Nor has that changed."

She knew she should be angry with him all over again, but she simply didn't have the energy. Healed she may be, but she was still weak, and apparently still had little strength for confrontations as emotional as this one was. Instead, she spoke quietly, drawing his eye. "How big of a fool you must think me."

Lifting a brow, he tilted his head. "Despite your belief to the contrary," he said, "I think you're neither a fool nor stupid."

She shook her head. "Your actions speak otherwise, Jehann. To think me so short-sighted, so blindly smitten, that I would want you blindly with no thought to the consequences, speaks for itself."

He started to speak, but she held up a hand. "Please," she requested softly. "Let me finish, and then we can be on our way."

Reluctantly, he nodded, closing his mouth, and she continued. "I've spent the last 7 years wondering just what I'd say to you should we ever meet again, and I've never really known what my words would be. I always assumed I was the only one who felt the way I did, and assumed that you'd left because you'd seen how I felt and were embarrassed." She met his eyes. "I knew you could never give me things a human man could… children, for instance." Her lips curved sadly. "To be honest, I was unsure I wanted to bring children into this world of strife anyway… but I was aware of your limitations. You're not even a member of my faction, and by allegiance I'm sworn to kill you should I get the chance." She huffed a laugh, shaking her head. "But we're only little people in the midst of a war between the greats, Jehann. And as little people in a time of strife, we have an obligation to find happiness wherever it presents itself." She lifted her shoulder. "Despite the obstacles standing in our way, despite all the reasons you tell yourself, I still believe that."

He was unsure how to respond, knowing the precipice he stood on now. Hearing her acceptance of the limitations he came along with was difficult… he'd spent years telling himself that if she'd only thought things through, she'd never have cared for him the way she did. Knowing he was wrong, again, was a bitter pill to swallow, and he suddenly wondered how different the last 7 years would have been had she thought to force him to see her feelings, instead of allowing him to hide in ignorance.

He remained silent, staring into the fire. It was full dark now, and he knew that in the spirit of expediency, they should have been on their way half an hour ago.. But still he remained, locked in indecision and memory.

He was startled when he felt her hand touch his, and looking down, he watched as she twined his fingers with her own. Lifting his gaze, he met her eyes and saw she was smiling gently.

"You always did think too much," she said teasingly, squeezing his hand. "Can we, before we abandon this topic, at least admit that we've missed the other?"

He huffed a silent laugh, the understatement huge. He'd been bereft since he'd left, and 'missing' her seemed a pale way to phrase it.

He nodded, smiling faintly. "Agreed."

She smiled and slid closer, laying her head on his shoulder, tightening her grip on his hand. The old discomfort at the thought of her laying her head to his exposed shoulder bone was a faint echo in his heart, more of an automatic reaction than anything tangible, and he lifted his other hand, pressing her cheek to his robes in a small embrace.

She lifted her hand and laid it over his, holding his palm to her cheek, and closed her eyes. She felt his fingers tighten imperceptively on her cheek and felt his strong jaw graze her forehead, his breath gentle on her hairline as he rested his cheek to the top of her head.

It was as much as he knew he should allow himself, but the act of simply holding her close again was enough to have his head swimming. He felt her breath, warm and elevated, on his collarbone where the neck of his robes parted, mingling with the heat of the fire, working to warm him in a way he hadn't felt in years. Electric heat ignited inside him, as if he were conjuring fire in his veins, and as she slid closer, he not only let her come, but pulled her closer until she was resting fully against him.

She tilted her face, unconsciously seeking him, and when their lips met, they came together as naturally as if they'd been kissing each other for years.

Jehann's breath caught in his chest when her lips found his and for one long, agonizing moment, he fought himself, a part of himself shrieking at him to stop what he was doing, to set her away from him and do whatever it took to regain the distance between them.

Oh by the gods, he thought suddenly, relief flooding him as he pulled her closer, just let me enjoy this… just once, let me enjoy this. I'll deal with the repercussions later.

Mairwen was trembling violently, waiting for the inevitable moment when he'd win the fight with his self-control and push her away, and was gratified when he pulled her closer, holding her in a tight embrace and lifting her chin with his fingers. With a sharp intake of breath, she felt the subtle pressure of his fingertips on her chin and unconsciously opened her mouth before she realized what he wanted.

Before she could react, his tongue was in her mouth, cool and tasting of spice, and she gripped his shoulders as his kiss claimed her. There was nothing sweet or romantic about this kiss they shared… rather, it was the result of 7 long years of longing, an expression of love and desire that they'd never had the chance to express, and it swept them up in a tide of passion. Kissing him back, she leaned into him, claiming his lips as surely as he claimed hers.

He shuddered when she actively kissed him back, obviously feeling none of the disgust he'd always told himself that she would when she felt his cool tongue on hers, when he pushed hands partially bereft of flesh through her mass of hair, tilting her head back. In the heat of the moment, he felt a surge of giddiness sweep through him and heard her breathing increase sharply when his fingers traced over her neck.

It was when her lips trailed down his jawbone that he came back to his senses and realized his fingers were playing with the ties at her neck, very close to unlacing the front of her tunic. Knowing if he did that, he'd be unable to rein in his passion before he did irreparable damage, he groaned harshly in what felt like physical pain and wrenched himself away, breathing heavy.

She looked to him, startled, and he groaned again, the image of her tormenting him. Her hair was dishevelled, her lips swollen, her eyes cloudy and unfocussed, her chest rising and falling quickly. "By the Light," he rasped, scrubbing his hands down his face and willing his traitorous body to calm the hell down so he could think straight.

He may never be capable of giving her children, he thought wildly, but he was more than capable of the act involved, and never had he expected to actually resent that small blessing.

He did now… and envied the unfortunate members of his race who'd been Scourge so long that the physical act of intimacy was no longer feasible.

Her eyes cleared slowly and then widened, the color rising in her cheeks. Sliding away from him slightly, she cleared her throat, searching for something to say that would break the awkward moment. "Well," she finally settled on, "glad to see we're on the same page."

He snorted, dropping his head into his hands and laughing helplessly. "I almost ravished you," he laughed, relieved that she was choosing to lighten the moment. "By the gods, Mairwen, I almost acted like a barbarian."

Her lips curved, amused, and she patted his shoulder. "I was there too," she reminded him with a wry smile. "I recall some amount of participation on my part as well."

Still chuckling and feeling his adrenaline rush ebbing, he took a long, steadying breath. "That," he said firmly, pointing at her, "cannot happen again."

For once, she bit her lip and nodded. "I understand."

He nodded, relieved that she was finally seeing sense. If they hadn't stopped when they did, he had little doubt how the encounter would end, and as strongly as his heart may have wanted that, the rest of him understood that when the time came to say goodbye, they didn't need the heartache of ending a physical relationship as well as an emotional one. As it stood, the inevitable day of their parting loomed ahead like a dark cloud, and it was merely her company that he was anticipating missing.

Sharing intimacy with her on top of the emotional bond they felt would be wonderful and liberating, he knew. But living without it, once he'd left her behind, would be unbearably hard.

He glanced to her as he doused the fire. Her face, drawn and thin, was pensive and serious, and he knew she was thinking along the same lines as he was. Grateful at not having to explain, but grieving the necessity of such thoughts, he laid a hand silently to her shoulder in a show of unity before he called Echo over.

Swinging up onto the saddle, he leaned down, gripping her elbow as she gripped his own. Hauling her up behind him, he was again startled at her slight weight, and passed another piece of dried meat over his shoulder once she was settled. "Eat," he commanded, and she snorted, amused, as she took the meat. "Yes SIR."

Lips twitching in wry humour, he waited until she'd started the meat and then clucked to his steed, prompting him to start heading back to the road. Silent, they left the clearing behind, the remains of the fire still steaming slightly.

As her arms came around his waist and he laid his free hand over her joined ones silently, she rested her cheek against his back and thought of the kiss they'd shared.

Now that he was no longer studying her, she felt safe enough to smile. Eyes closed and a smile on her lips, she dozed off, leaving Jehann to his tumultuous thoughts.

This was inevitable, he knew. Their attraction, their love for the other, had been there between them for as long as he could remember, and he'd been a fool to believe he could withstand the temptation she presented now that they were forced into each other's company once more.

He set his jaw, gritting his teeth and tightening his hand over hers possessively. How the hell was he supposed to just leave her behind? He'd always felt pride in his success when he'd left her behind the first time… he couldn't have imagined anything more difficult at the time, and he'd stood against the pain, secure in his knowledge that he was doing what was best for her.

But now, after sharing the mos potent kiss he'd ever had? He'd kissed others in the past 7 years, had had other women in his bed for brief periods, but never had he felt anything close to the passion that had sprung up between them tonight.

It absolutely couldn't happen again, he knew. To kiss her again would be to throw all common sense out the door. The battle would be lost, and they'd be forced, broken, to pick up the pieces when the day came to say goodbye.

Because the day to say goodbye was coming, he knew, and despite what was said tonight, it hadn't changed the fact that he still had every intention of doing what was right and letting her move on with her life.

He took a shuddering breath and urged Echo into a fast gallop, wanting only to eat as many miles as he could while she slept… after all, every mile closer to Southshore was a mile closer to escaping this twisted labyrinth, and it was far easier when she slept, when she wasn't inadvertently reminding him that there was still, after all this time, a part of himself questioning the sanity involved in leaving her behind a second time.

As Echo's hooves pounded down the road south, Jehann fell backwards in time and once again saw himself in his mind's eye back at her cottage, during happier days when troubles such as this had only barely begun to plague them.