Thank you so much to everyone who's following this story, and just a reminder of the rating for this chapter.
Chapter Twenty-Five – Waiting
Jaiyan trudged up the stairs. Her feet ached and she longed for a bath and to work the soap deep into her hair. Deekin had bounded off to talk to Nathyrra about the undead at Drearing's Deep, and Valen was due for a healing with the Seer. She shoved the door open, and stepped inside her room. She glanced briefly at the dark walls with their twists of curling metal and white marble veins. Drow architecture was sometimes stubborn to the point of boredom, she decided.
She leaned back on the bed and shed her pack and her boots. Carelessly dropping cape and gloves and swordbelt behind her, she meandered through into the bath chamber. She smiled beatifically as she saw that the Seer's servants had already arrived and filled the bath. Steam floated above the water, lit by the hanging lamps.
Jaiyan stripped off her shirt and tunic and leggings and left them in a filthy pile by the door. Happily naked, she paused to hook up a brandy decanter and a glass, and ensconced herself in the bath.
She wasted the best part of an hour, watching the twining steam and sipping the fiery brandy. She scrubbed the worst of the dirt and grit from her hair and dragged a comb through the long brown strands. She sank back in the water and let her hair spill out behind her.
Much later, reluctantly, she heaved herself out and went in search of a towel. She mopped up the water from her hair and dug around in her pack, searching for a shirt that was neither bloodstained nor in need of immediate repair. Failing, she selected a grey, open-necked shirt with lines of stitches on both elbows. She pulled on a faded blue tunic after that and laced her boots back up. And promptly flopped onto the bed, determined to hide in her room until night fell. Or whatever the equivalent was, down here in the darkness. She guessed she still slept at roughly the same times, for the same stretches; but the lack of sunset and sunrise still unnerved her.
Deekin would be safe with Nathyrra, and she could check on Valen later. She raised the brandy glass to her lips again, and spluttered when the door crashed open and the little kobold stampeded in. "Deekin! Didn't we talk about knocking?"
Deekin nodded. "Yes, Boss. But this is important!"
His tiny frame was almost humming with excitement. "Alright," she said. "What's happened?"
"Blacksmith drow and innkeeper drow listen to Deekin telling all about dracolich."
"And?"
"And innkeeper drow says Deekin can write song about it and sing about it in tavern." Deekin nodded and added, "Tonight!"
"Tonight?" Jaiyan smiled. "So he liked your other songs?"
"Deekin thinks so. Innkeeper drow say they be unique."
"He's absolutely right."
Deekin grinned, all teeth. "So…will Boss come and listen?"
She had wanted to do nothing but laze in bed, maybe skulk down to the tavern for a few quiet drinks, and perhaps discover where Valen was lurking. But Deekin was looking up at her, all sparkling black eyes and hopeful grin. "Course I will," she said.
"Thanks, Boss!" With that, Deekin was gone, a small, indomitable whirlwind of tail and wings and enthusiasm.
Still chuckling, Jaiyan buckled her sword and dagger back on and ventured out into the cooling, torchlight streets of the city. At the tavern, she ducked under the lintel and into a familiar haze of smoke and sound. She could smell roasting meat and ale and leather, and the ever-present, sharper scent of incense. Deekin was already preening himself at the hearth, his lute across his lap and his head bowed.
At the bar, the innkeeper pushed a tankard across to her. "The lady cares for ale?"
"The lady certainly does." She glanced around, and was suddenly aware of the drow patrons looking at her. Some surreptitiously, some more openly, but all of them staring at her. "Ah…has my hair changed colour?"
"We heard about the dracolich," the innkeeper said, smiling. "To take down such a creature…most of the soldiers in here only dream of such a thing."
Would it help if they knew I was petrified the whole time? Not really, she thought wryly. Not when Deekin's song is bound to declare the opposite.
"Well…I had help."
"A kobold and the general," the innkeeper protested. "Three of you. I know the general could probably stare a dragon to death, but even so…"
She laughed and tipped the tankard up. The ale slipped down her throat easily, warming her. But something uneasy prickled at her, and she wondered where Valen was, and if he was alright.
At the hearth, Deekin dashed out a striking, clear note on the lute. His fingers ran up and down the strings, and the sound cascaded out, invoking silence in the taproom. He drew in a deep breath, and Jaiyan noticed his wings shaking. He beat time with his tail while his fingers plucked faster and faster at the trembling strings; and finally, he opened his mouth and started to sing.
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Valen stretched the bowstring back to his jawline, sighted, and fired. The arrow thunked hard into the target, and he sighed. He preferred the up-close, brutal feel of close combat, and could not quite appreciate the timing and artistry involved with archery.
Beside him, watching, Imloth inclined his head. "I know you don't like it, but you're good at it."
He grunted. "You're better."
"I'm a lot older than you." Imloth grinned. "I think."
Valen dropped the bow back on its rack and paced. Dust rose from the practice field, and he ignored it, and the lights he could see spilling from the tavern. He had heard the rumours, that the kobold was going to sing some masterpiece in honour of the defeat of Vix'thra, and he knew he should probably be there. But he had no love for crowds, and he preferred the idea of catching Jaiyan alone than in a packed taproom.
He growled and unslung his flail. Three strong blows reduced the nearest target to splinters.
Imloth folded his arms. "What's on your mind?"
Valen spun and launched at the next target.
"I'll have to spare two recruits to make more of those tomorrow," the drow said amiably.
Valen stared at clouds of wooden shards and sighed again. "What do I do?"
Imloth balanced his bow across his shoulders. "Repair my targets?"
"You know what I mean." He yanked the flail away. "Everything was so clear, and now it isn't."
"Valen." Imloth looked at him sidelong. "Are you honestly asking a drow for this kind of help?"
The tiefling laughed. "Maybe I am. What would a drow say?"
"Take her to bed. Along with two other maidens at least as pretty as her."
"She's not a maiden."
"Even better." Imloth crouched down beside him. "This may be very un-drow-like of me, but we followers of Eilistraee get funny ideas sometimes. Would it be so wrong to simply ask her? Or talk to her, at least?"
"Why would she want to?"
"Now you sound like some lovesick child." Imloth raked his hands through his long white hair. "Nothing intimidates you."
"Some things do." Valen rested his chin on his hands and stared off into the distance.
"You see, I shouldn't even be bothering with this." Imloth shot him an arch look. "I should be telling you to worry about the defense of the city and the Seer, and the defeat of the Valsharess."
"Have you ever worried about anything else?" Valen asked.
"Before I came here, I worried about living and breathing, every day. I worried if my…different beliefs were going to incur the wrath of the Matron Mothers. I worried if I was going to be seen to be weak by other males. I worried if I was going to be asked to do something I didn't want to by a priestess." He shrugged. "Everybody worries."
The tiefling said nothing.
"Valen, I trust your battle strategies as if you're the oracle. But around women, you're hopeless." Imloth prodded him. "What do want me to say? Write her poetry? Take her to the tavern? Spar with her some more?"
Valen opened his mouth to retort, but fast-running footsteps against the ground intruded. The tiefling looked sideways, saw a short, slender drow scout pelting across the practice field, ribboned with sweat.
The scout skidded to a halt and gulped down lungfulls of air.
"Take a moment," Imloth said quietly. "What's happened, soldier?"
The scout cast a wary eye at Valen. "General…Commander. There's…we saw…"
"Spit it out," Valen barked.
"It's all written down." The scout pushed a handful of parchment at Imloth. "The Valsharess' army. On the move from her fortress." The scout shuddered and sucked down another deep breath. "She has beholders, some ilithid. Drow by the hundreds."
Valen nodded grimly. "How far?"
"Four days. Probably three."
"You're exhausted," Imloth noted gently. "Get yourself cleaned up."
While the scout sprinted away, Valen stared at the ground for a heartbeat. "Send runners to the soldiers," he said briskly. "The Seer has to know. This city has to be on full alert as quickly as possible."
"By the time you get to the tavern," Imloth said, wry.
"What?"
"So you can tell her ladyship."
Valen laughed, and it sounded brittle. "Am I that transparent?"
"Maybe only to me." Imloth looked at him, and saw the set determination in his face. "I'll deal with the city. You deal with your lady."
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Jaiyan stepped out into the cool, peaceful quiet of the street outside. Behind her, the tavern was rollicking with laughter and shouts and ebullient conversation. Deekin's ballad had pleased them, she thought, still amused. He had turned Valen into a paragon of combat, her into a long-haired damsel of the sword, and himself into unwilling yet heroic kobold observer. In rhyme.
And they had loved it.
Remembering the way the patrons had thumped on the benches and hollered the repeating chorus, she smiled. It seemed strange, on reflection, that Deekin would find his perfect audience down here, among dour-faced drow. Who apparently loosen up like everyone else after a good victory and a few drinks.
She rounded the corner of the marketplace, and nearly walked into Valen. "You read my mind," she said easily. "I was wondering where you were."
"At the practice fields. Something's happened." His gaze skipped across her. "We've had a scout come back. The Valsharess' army is three days away."
She stared at him. Her stomach felt leaden, and her heart thumped. "Three days..?"
"If that."
Her thoughts scattered. "What do we do now?"
"Imloth is setting more patrols and sending soldiers to the gates."
"But they're all in the tavern getting drunk."
"Then they'll be working off their hangovers on patrol." He paused, and she noticed the tension in him. "I need to go and talk to the Seer."
She nodded again. She felt unreal, as if someone else had just been told the news. "Yes. Ah…could you come and talk to me afterwards?"
His tail flicked. "To you?"
The hard, military tone was in his voice again, and she almost flinched. "Please," she said, wavering. "I've never been in a siege before."
His blue eyes softened, and he raised his hand, as if he might touch her. "Of course," he answered.
Still feeling dazed, she stepped around him. She glanced over her shoulder, and watched him stride across the empty marketplace, his tail lashing behind him and his shoulders rigid.
A battle. A siege. Oh Gods. I don't do sieges.
You killed the dracolich.
But I don't do sieges.
She chewed the inside of her cheek as she made her way towards the temple. You always knew there would be some kind of battle, she reminded herself. Yes, but I thought…it might just go away.
And Valen…well, he's back in soldier frame of mind, so what does that mean?
Yes, but he said he'd come see you later.
The walk to the temple slowed her heartbeat, and calmed her thoughts somewhat. She shoved thoughts of impending sieges and battles and fullscale combat into some part of her mind tentatively labeled some other day. Still uneasy, she jogged up the steps and into the rooms that were becoming disconcertingly familiar.
She sat at the casement, staring out towards the stone ramparts of the gates. Three days. Three days of waiting and pacing and cleaning her sword and trying to sleep. She contemplated the virtues of getting roaring drunk, and wryly decided against it. It would probably not be best to be caught sloshed if the Valsharess' troops arrived early.
A knock on the door startled her out of reverie. "Yes?"
"May I come in?" Valen asked gruffly.
"Do you bring ale? Or even brandy?"
"No," he answered, sounding perplexed. "Should I?"
"Ah, never mind. Enter anyway." She turned as he opened the door. "I've probably got some in here somewhere, anyway."
He still wore his dark green armour, and he was, as ever, armed. "How are you faring?"
"I'm terrified," she answered baldly. She slumped back down on the windowseat. She wanted to ask what he thought might happen, what he knew about the Valsharess' battle tactics. "I've never done this before. My experience is limited to leading small bands of mad adventurers against slightly bigger bands of bandits."
He sat across from her, clasped his gloved hands on his lap. "You fought Heurodis," he remembered. "And with me, you fought Sabal and Aghaaz. The ilithid. And the dracolich."
Some part of her suspected him of flattery. "That's still…" She shook her head, and noticed that there was little space between them on the windowseat. "Commanding troops. I've never done it and I hate the idea of it. I don't want that many people looking to me to tell them what to do. I've been in scraps and skirmishes. Never battles. Can't you do it for me?"
He smiled, not mocking. "You are the Seer's messiah, remember?"
"Wonderful." Her mouth twisted. "I'm a mercenary, Valen. I'm not a general."
"I know." He shifted against the shape of the flail strapped over his shoulder. "I will help you, if you let me. But I cannot do it for you."
"I'd like that." She sighed and rubbed at her eyes. "Was there anything in particular you needed to tell me, by the way?"
"I…wanted to see if you were alright."
"I'll be alright." She pushed away from the casement. "Did you want to share that brandy?"
He inclined his head. "I'd be happy to join you in the drowning of your sorrows, my lady."
She felt the skin between her shoulders tighten. Don't be ridiculous, some sane part of her mind shrieked. All he said was that he'd join you in one drink.
She clanked the glasses against the decanter; the sound seemed shockingly loud. Fumbling, she poured generous measures and somehow made it back to the casement without her face flaming.
Valen accepted the glass, raised it to his lips. She found herself watching as he swallowed, following the motion of his hand as he laid the glass on the sill.
"So do you think we actually have any chance?" she asked, lazily to try and disguise her fear.
"There is always a chance," he responded lightly. "But there is also always misfortune, bad timing and sheer overwhelming numbers."
"Oh, you're a ray of bright hope." She glared at him. "You will help me tomorrow? Or whenever the endless hordes arrive?"
"Of course. If you wish it."
The sudden silence engulfed her, and she looked away. She hunted for words, could find nothing suitable to say. The long days they had traveled through the darkness and the caves had left them at that curious stage of easily swapping tales and quick comments when outside, in the enveloping dark of the caverns.
But here, again, in a normal room, she realized that they became merely a man and a woman; not heroes, not adventurers bent on saving the Seer's rebels.
A man and a woman in a city about to be besieged.
"Jaiyan…"
She glanced up; he rarely used her name. She met his gaze, and her thoughts ran wild. "What is it?"
"I will be with you, when the Valsharess' forces arrive." He gazed down at her through those blue eyes. "And I will be here afterwards, if you wish it."
Very carefully, Jaiyan laid her drink down. "I'd like that, Valen."
He reached out, covered her hand with his own. As if she was made of blown glass, he cupped her chin with his other hand. "I will not let anything happen to you."
He tipped her head up, and very gently, he kissed her. Softly, as if afraid she might pull away.
She stared up into his face, frightened and excited and shocked all at once. Her thoughts crashed together madly. He's not human. There will be a battle soon. What if he gets killed? What will Deekin think? He's blushing again. What if he wants to take that damned flail to bed as well? I wonder if what Nathyrra said about tiefling tails is true. He kissed me first. That must mean he wants me as well.
"My lady?"
His voice was rough, uncertain. Jaiyan closed the distance between them, felt a tremor run through him as she opened her mouth over his. His lips were warm and tasted of brandy and desire. "You didn't have anywhere else to be tonight, did you?"
He laughed. "You are incorrigible, my lady."
"You started it." She let herself fall back against the curve of the windowseat, pulling him down with her.
Valen threaded a hand through her loose hair, wondering. "I never thought you would…"
"Then you're blind, my tiefling."
He kissed her again, deeply, tasting her. Her thoughts were upended, and she decided to simply enjoy the moment. And the tiefling. His face was unguarded as he kissed her, bright with happiness, despite the looming threat of battle. Some part of her worried about silly, inconsequential things, like how her faded clothes might look, or if her hair and skin pleased him. His mouth covered hers again, and such worries fled.
"Jaiyan?" he murmured.
His lips were an inch from hers, and her hands had somehow worked their way to his chest, braced against his armour. "Yes?" she managed.
"This is…"
"…I know." She slipped her hands up, and found the soft ends of his hair. She dug her fingers into the thick scarlet strands until she touched his horns. "Demon," she murmured, smiling.
"Don't you mind?" he whispered back.
Her fingers curled around his horns, holding his head in place as she kissed him thoroughly. "Yes, it's terrible." She yelped as his tail lashed out and wrapped around her waist and tightened. "You win! I give up."
He laughed again, low and tempting. He trailed soft kisses along her forehead, and down her cheek to the corner of her mouth. "Do you yield?"
"Never." She kissed him and cupped his face. "Don't you mind that I am simply a boring mortal?"
"You're not boring."His hands roamed across her, finding the frayed hem of her tunic, and the shirt beneath.
She gasped as his fingers crept up, caressing her skin. It had been so long, too long, since a man had touched her in this way; and suddenly she wanted him desperately.
Do we? The sensible part of her mind raged. Do we know what that means? Give yourself to him, and be triply terrified when the Valsharess attacks. Worry not just for yourself, and for Deekin, but for this tiefling.
She ignored her thoughts and pressed herself against him, despite the armour. She felt the heat in his skin and his mouth as he kissed her. "Valen…"
He picked her up, cradled her against his chest. In four quick strides, he bore her across to the bed, lowered her onto the sheets. He propped himself up on his elbows over her, gazed down at her. "My lady, we should do this…slowly."
She smiled. His weight over her was comforting, somehow, along with his gentle, slightly tentative smile. "Slowly I can live with."
"I'm serious," he murmured. "I…might hurt you otherwise."
She leaned up, found the catches on his breastplate. She worked the clasps free, helped him heave the armour and strapped-on flail onto the floor. Between soft, breathless kisses, she lifted his shirt away, leaned back to admire him briefly.
Jaiyan tugged him down onto her, felt his weight settle over her again. Her thighs opened around his hips, and she could feel the hardness of him, pressing between her legs. She moaned against his mouth, shuddering as his tail tightened about her waist. His fingers were on her shirt ties, yanking the fabric away, baring her skin to him.
Valen's hands explored the contours of her body, smoothing along her collarbone, roaming down over her breasts. His head dipped, and his mouth closed over her nipples, teasing and licking. She gasped and arched against him, locking her legs around the back of his. Her hands tangled in his hair, and she realized that her thoughts were flying apart, and she no longer cared about the city, or the threat of the Valsharess' army; only about the tiefling above her.
He slipped a hand down over her stomach, found her belt buckle. He worked her leathers off, kissed the insides of her thighs.
She shuddered and tipped her head back against the pillows. His fingers found the wetness between her legs, and she heard him murmur her name. Achingly gently, he stroked, opening her beneath his touch. His lips claimed hers again.
She let her eyes close. The pleasure was sweeping her away, and she was losing herself in the unfamiliar sensation of building desire. "Valen…"
Suddenly the motion of his hand and the silken feel of his hair against her breasts was a torment; she wanted him closer, inside her, his arms around her. She pushed onto her elbows, stopped his querying look with a kiss. Grinning wickedly, Jaiyan found the end of his tail, ran her hands down the length of it. She saw his eyes close as he moaned.
She followed the line of his tail to his breeches, found his waistband. He trembled as she slid her hands over him, feeling the shape and stiffness of him.
Maybe slower would be better.
Ridiculously, she felt her cheeks redden. She busied herself with his belt and prayed he had not noticed.
"You're blushing, my lady," he murmured in her ear.
Her pulse quickened as she hauled the breeches down over his hips, pushed them onto the floor. She let Valen press her back onto the bed, legs falling open beneath him. His mouth traced her breasts again as he slid gently into her.
She shuddered, tightening instinctively around him. He pushed further, and her back arched. A gasp wrenched from her lips, and not from pleasure.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Just…slowly," she said, imploringly.
He laughed softly. "It has been a long time for you, yes?" As tenderly, he withdrew. "We have all night, if need be."
His fingers slipped into her again, moving faster this time, coaxing the twisting knot of her desire. Jaiyan turned her face up to his, kissed him hungrily. The movement of his mouth was fierce as she pressed against him. When the sudden, half-unexpected release swept through her, she cried out against his throat. Flushed and tousled, she gazed up into his blue eyes. "Valen…"
And something changed.
His head dropped to her shoulder, caught the soft skin there between his teeth. The hands on her breasts turned hard and insistent. He got one knee between her legs, pushed her thighs open. "Valen, wait…"
She could no longer see his eyes. "Valen, wait, please…"
The breath hissed between her teeth as he slammed into her, almost lifting her off the bed. His tail lashed out and wrapped around her wrist, holding her down. The second, deep thrust left her breathless. The third, harder again, made her cry out.
She reached out blindly and grabbed a handful of his hair. She yanked his head up, and flinched.
His eyes were flickering, changing; becoming that dull, terrible red colour. "Valen, don't." Jaiyan kept her fist tangled in his hair. "Look at me. Please."
His chest was heaving, streaked with sweat. Uncertainty warred with anger on his face. His eyes flicked across her, saw the pain in her gaze. "I am…so sorry."
Ashamed, he pulled out of her too quickly, and she gasped, startled. "Valen…"
He stared down at her, stricken. "I never meant to, Jaiyan," he whispered brokenly. "I never meant it to hurt."
"Ssh." She smoothed his tumbled hair. Her heart was thundering. She was not entirely frightened, but she was…unsure. All she knew beneath the thumping of her heartbeat was that she wanted him to stay with her. "I know. It's just…I haven't done this for a long, long time. And you're not exactly small, you know?"
"It wasn't that. I lost control," he said flatly. "Demons…demons are…" He stopped, searching for the right words.
"Generously proportioned?" she asked archly.
"Lust and violence become so similar," he whispered. "The same rage I feel in battle, I sometimes want to give in to…in other situations."
He moved as if to gather himself and push away from her. She grabbed him by the tail and shook her head. "You're not going anywhere. Now I've finally got you naked and in my bed, I intend for you to stay here."
"It doesn't always happen. It doesn't usually happen at all. But…I haven't done this for a long time either. And you're…" He cut himself off and shook his head. "I have no desire to hurt you, my lady. I should go."
"No!" Her own vehemence startled her. "You are not walking out that door, tiefling. Please. Besides, you said we had all night, and I want to hold you to that." She leaned forward, kissed him. Felt him respond tentatively.
Smiling against his lips, she slid her hands down to his waist, and then lower. He shuddered as her fingers circled him. "Will you stay?"
He moaned. "Yes…"
Jaiyan lay back against the sheets, pulled him over her. She was nervous, and could not hide it. But she let him kiss her, and moved against him, as he stroked and caressed her. She saw the open fear in his eyes as he touched her, that he might hurt her, or do something wrong. She gave him the time he needed, to explore her with his hands and his mouth, as if proving to himself that he could.
And when she grasped his shoulders, he sank over her, despite the fluttering pulse at his throat and his terse expression. She guided him into her, trembling. He eased in gently, eyes on her face, watching her tense briefly. "Jaiyan?"
"You won't hurt me," she breathed.
As if he might irreparably damage her at any moment, Valen pulled out and slid back into her slowly. Jaiyan arched up against him, wound her arms around his shoulders. "Don't stop," she murmured in his ear.
He propped himself up on his elbows, plunged deeply into her. Her hands slipped down to his waist as he began thrusting carefully, eyes always on her face, watching her. Jaiyan tipped her head back, losing herself in the sensation of him inside her. His head dropped to her shoulder, traced the line of her collarbone with his mouth.
"It's alright," she said, quietly. "Valen…it's me. It's just me."
He moaned against her throat, and his arms locked around her. She thought she heard him murmur her name again. His mouth was against her skin, and the feel of him, sliding against her and inside her was something she did not want to give up. At the end, when he cried out in sudden release, she clenched her fingers over his shoulders. "Valen…"
He stared down at her, shaking all over. "My lady?"
She smiled up at him lazily. "I'm glad you stayed."
Valen settled himself beside her, gathered her against his chest. "Did I hurt you?"
She twisted her fingers through his hair. "A little," she answered honestly. "At the very end."
"I did not mean to."
"I know," she said brightly. "Besides, we'll just have to practice until we get it right, hmm?"
He laughed. "I'd like that."
She trailed a hand down his chest. "And anyway, I want to know exactly what you can do with that tail."
Valen flushed. He flicked the end of his tail into her hands, gently exasperated. "Fine. Do with me what you will."
She chuckled and swept her hands down the long, sinewy length of it. Keeping her gaze on his face, she opened her mouth around the tip, stroked the warm skin with her tongue.
He growled and crushed her against his chest. "Where did you learn to do that, my lady?"
She teased his nipples with her teeth. "You're complaining?"
Valen rolled over, carrying her with him. "Not at all." He balanced her above him, her knees on either side of his hips, and his tail winding around her waist. His hands slipped up, fanned across the spread of her ribs. "You're small."
"You've just got big hands." She smirked down at him. "And big everything else, apparently." She leaned on his chest, enjoying the solid, warm feel of him beneath her. "You feel very good."
"Good." He ran his hands up and down the slope of her back, exploring, gently stroking. "So do you."
"Valen?"
"Mmm?"
"When the Valsharess attacks…." A sudden, unbidden flood of tears blinded her, and she scowled.
"Don't do that," he murmured. "We can talk and enjoy each other all night, if you want. But no tears."
"I'm sorry." Angry at herself, she scrubbed a hand roughly across her eyes. "It's just…Gods, we should have done this a long time ago. And if I die, then we won't be able to do it again."
He laughed softly. "You will not die, and neither will I. And we can do this as much and as often as you wish."
"You'd better mean that," she said fiercely. She blinked rapidly, still irritated at herself. "Gods, I'm not usually like this. I promise."
He kissed her. "And I am not usually like this, so what are we to do with ourselves?"
"Oh, I don't know. I'm sure we'll think of something." She rested her cheek on his chest, listened to the rhythm of his breathing. "So I guess you trust me now, yes?"
He tightened his arms around her. "With all my heart."
There was something in his voice, something that gave her pause. She lifted her head, gazed into his clear blue eyes. "You mean that."
Not a question, and he understood. "I mean that."
She sighed against his pale skin. "Don't leave me tonight."
"How could I?" He moved, tilted her head up. His blue eyes seemed softer, the smile beneath gentle. "Jaiyan, if you will have me, I will not leave you again."