A.N. I've written and re-written this chapter what feels like a hundred times. It was the first part of this story I wrote, but then I decided I wanted it to be more than a one-shot and wrote 25 more chapters to lead up to it. So things have changed, and this chapter has been redone more times than I care to remember. About half of it has been cut out, but don't worry, it's nothing important ;). This is the first story I've written where my poor, tortured characters have gotten anywhere near this stage, so go easy on me! The next few chapters will take a little longer to get up – all the usual excuses like exams, as well as the fact that I don't have a game saved around then because, surprise surprise, my computer died. I'll shut up, now, and let you nice strangers read the fluffiest, steamiest piece of fiction I've ever written. Enjoy!
Chapter 25
The upper battlements were more for show than anything else. They were carved into the innermost section of the keep, up on the highest crest of the building, offering an incomparable view of the countryside all around. If the enemy ever got close enough for a soldier standing where I was to make a difference then the Keep would already have been lost. The slim corridor of stone stretched around the uppermost rooms, including hers, like a makeshift balcony, though the only way to get there was by the main staircase. I stood, leaning over on one of the long merlons that rose to just above my waist, and stared down at the main gate. It was being secured even now, and the patrols that paced along the main walls had increased in number. The activity below, the preparations, it was like the keep was drawing in a long, deep breath in anticipation. The thick clouds swirling in the distant, dark horizon only stirred up the tension that lay deep in the air, already electric with the storm brewing. The main buildings were hidden from me, which was something of a relief, as I was distracted enough already without worrying about being watched. Besides, no one came up here.
As if in response, I heard a grunt to my right. I turned to see a window being pushed open, and a long pair of legs covered in tight brown cloth swing outside. The rest of her followed a moment later, her hands pushing off from the windowsill and her bare feet landing on the battlements with a slap. She caught sight of me and made her way over with a pointed, private smile on her face that made my heart momentarily forget its place in my chest. With a grin she swung her arms around my neck and leant up on the tips of her toes to plant a long, languid kiss on my lips. I looked down at her as the slight breeze whipped a lock of her cinnamon hair across her face and she wrinkled her nose. The night air coloured her cheeks a rosy pink, even as the cross of her still-healing scars remained a dark maroon.
It hit me with full force. The now-familiar rush I'd come to expect from watching her, holding her, breathing in that intoxicating scent I still couldn't place. To my eyes, she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. And she was here, in my arms, smiling up at me. I'd have told myself I was dreaming if her body didn't feel so undeniably real pressed against mine.
"Well?" She asked, her icy blue eyes teasing, matching the impish smile on her face. I knew exactly what I wanted to say to her. The words were right in front of me, but they caught in my throat. In this, as always, my heart and my head pulled against each other.
"I'm lost for words," I said finally, smiling right back at her. Her face broke into a grin and in one smooth motion she stepped back from me and hoisted herself onto the merlon, her bare feet dangling down somewhere around my knees.
"That's ok. We have time. All night, I hope. Maybe those gods-damned shadows will be too shook up from what we did to 'em earlier to notice the sunrise. Or maybe they'll be too scared of the pair of us to come at all." She leaned back onto her hands and jerked her head towards the horizon. "At least when they get here we'll know about it. I've been out here almost every evening, you know. Sometimes even in the mornings. Can't see what's going on down in the courtyard too well, and can't even see the south horizon sometimes. There's nowhere to look, really, but up there." She raised her eyes to the heavens and I looked up to the sea of glittering stars that painted the heavens. "The Mere was always so cloudy, but up here the sky's clear as anything..." she paused, biting her lip, "I guess I should be thankful to see them for one last time. They're so beautiful up here."
My brow wrinkled in confusion. "Why shouldn't you see them again?"
"Because..." her voice was low and shook slightly, and all at once it became clear what the sad cast to her eyes meant. I could feel the tension bubbling up inside her, and had no doubts as to what it was about. "I don't know how much longer I'll be walking and talking, that's why. There's a war coming tomorrow, Casavir. It'll hit this place like a damn tidal wave and hells know I can't stand up to that. Even if we all make it through alive, we gotta face him afterwards. Can't just let him slink away and recover. That's how it always happens, I'm told. And I don't know how prepared I am for that either. I don't even know why it has to be me..." she bit her lip again, a nervous habit I'd long become used to, "I'm sorry for bringing it up," she sighed, "It's just...been preying on my mind, you know?" I stepped between her legs, brushing back the hair that fell over her face. Her bright, icy blue eyes flicked up to mine, hopeful, asking me to tell her fanciful lies about the future that didn't involve our deaths.
"I'd tell you not to think about it," I started, "but even I'm finding it hard with the way everyone's running about the place. There's death in the air." I didn't know why I'd said that, and looked away from her quickly. I promised myself I wouldn't bring up the way every one of the senses I'd finely honed during my years of training as a paladin were screaming at me to leave this gods-forsaken Keep before it became a mass graveyard on the morrow. I could feel them. Their presence had grown steadily over the past few months. It was nothing I couldn't block out before, but, like a sound slowly, imperceptibly rising in volume, it was becoming difficult to ignore. The undead were coming, and their army was many times the size of ours. If she hadn't been leading the only opposing force, I don't know what I'd have done.
No, that was a lie. I knew what I'd do. I'd charge head-first into battle, still churning with the rage I'd fought with back in the Well. I didn't even want to think about where I'd be if I hadn't met her.
"Don't get all grim on me, paladin," she quipped with a teasing note in her voice. I looked back down to her and took in the way the brave smile she gave me didn't quite reach her eyes, and the way her hands gripped at the stone beneath her. "I was counting on you to be the calm, sane one, like you always are. Without you to slap some heroics into me I'll just be left to my own pessimism, entirely founded though it is."
"So if I told you it'll all be ok, that we'll both live through it all, that you had nothing to be scared of...you'd believe me?" She bit her lip. The sight of the soft strip of pink flesh caught between her sharp, white teeth made me entirely forget what I'd asked her.
"If you said it...I might. But paladins don't lie, do they?" Her expression was so strange. A smile, but with fear shaping her eyes, and her lips pulled tight across her mouth as if she was about to cry. It had been selfish of me to try and talk to her tonight. The air was too thick with dread and apprehension for us to think of anything but what tomorrow meant.
"For you, I might," I answered finally. She shivered suddenly. Something told me it wasn't the cold.
"So it'd be a lie, then?" I licked my lips as I thought of how to respond. "Don't answer," she said quickly, "I already know we're dead men walking. It's ok. It's just...nice to pretend that...that..." she looked away from me, up in to the stars, and her mouth clamped suddenly, her lips wringing together, "...That star's gone," she murmured, "It's not just a fluke. It's still gone." She muttered a name in Elvish that I didn't understand.
"Evelyn..."
"Back in the swamp it was the brightest star you could see. And I asked my father what it meant. And he told me...if it ever darkened it meant something terrible was going to happen. Not just to us, but to the whole world. And..." her head fell forward so her chin was resting on her chest as her voice quietened. "And I looked for it a while ago and couldn't find it. And it's not there now. Is that because everything's about to go to hell, or because there's too many other stars for me to see it right?" Her head snapped back up to me suddenly, her eyes bright and wide with a strange mix of fear and sadness as the words tumbled out of her mouth. "Why am I even looking for stuff like this? The star isn't the only thing. It's like the whole damn universe is making sure that when I die, it won't be a shock. I mean...even..." she made a small, frustrated noise at the back of her throat. "I know it's bad luck to look at your own palm, probably just because you'll take everything the wrong way, but I did it anyway. I looked. And I was never scared before, because if the lines on my hand count for anything then I'm in for a long, happy life. But today I got hurt. It was nothing, just a scratch, but..." her voice trailed off and she bit her lip. She reached out towards me with her right hand, displaying it flat for me to see. "What does it mean?"
The scratch had cut the lines of her hand in two. The one she'd indicated now finished after barely an inch, the other half stretching away towards her wrist. Without hesitation I took her hand in mine and kissed her palm. The healing magic came with barely a thought, and the tiny wound knitted itself together like it had never existed. Her lifeline was whole again.
"It means nothing," I said firmly. I could see in her eyes how badly she wanted to believe me. "And you're not going to die tomorrow. Not while I breathe." She leant forward, resting her head against my shoulder and sighed shakily.
"You said that before. Ages ago. Remember?" I did, and inwardly cringed at how I'd been with her back then. "And I'll tell you now the same damn thing I told you then. You're too good to die for someone like me." I opened my mouth to respond, but she beat me to it. "And don't tell me I'm wrong, because I know I'm right. You shouldn't have to give up your life for me, for Tyr, for anyone..."
"Tyr?" I interrupted her in astonishment, and she shifted so her eyes were staring up into mine, icy blue like the brightest topaz. "Is that what you think this is about? That I'm only here with you because, out of some misguided sense of duty, I can't bring myself to leave?" She threaded her fingers through mine.
"That's not what I said," her voice was so tender that I cursed myself for being unnecessarily defensive, "It's just hard to forget...how you were. When we found you in the Well. You had this crazy deathwish and...and maybe I should have told you how worried about you I was. I barely even knew you, but I knew enough to know you were good and kind, and... I don't know, maybe I thought...I could...help you."
"Is that why you asked me to stay?" Her face suddenly took on a teasing, impish quality, and her hands slid up my chest, her earlier melancholy all but forgotten.
"Well. That and...you know, I'm only a woman..." she hooked her leg behind my knee and pulled me towards her. I didn't know if she was avoiding the topic or just moving on. She shifted her hips closer to mine, her fingers weaving together behind my neck, and suddenly I didn't care. She drew my face to hers and I kissed her, my fingers diving into her hair, pressing into her scalp, that unmistakeable scent of hers invading my mind and clouding all rational thought. "So what did you bring me here for, huh?" she whispered against my lips, her voice low and husky. My jaw trembled as I tried to speak. She kissed me again, nipping at my bottom lip with her teeth. Our surroundings were forgotten. The day and its troubles, tomorrow and our deaths, none of them mattered. The words I'd wanted to say to her felt childish and hollow, somehow. Like saying them would shatter the illusion and make the whole thing real again.
"S'not important..." I muttered through a kiss. I felt her pursed lips spread into a grin.
"Liar," she said with a throaty chuckle, nudging my nose with hers as she looked up to me, her eyes hooded and swirling like a blizzard. "C'mon, out with it." My instincts warred with one another. Part of me insisted I should let it lie, and just enjoy what we had before it was all too abruptly taken away. The other half screamed that I'd be a fool to let tomorrow come without telling her. To the hells if she pushed me away. At least I'd know.
"I..." I couldn't do it, came the sickening realisation. I could lead scores of warriors into battle, I could turn back hordes of undead, I could kill a bandit with barely a thought. But when it came to her I was tongue-tied and foolish. I'd been too much of a coward to do anything about the mindless infatuation I'd nurtured for months until she'd literally climbed into my bed. And now that I had the thing I wanted most in the world before me, her wide, bright eyes gazing up at me, I found all the words I thought to say to her crumble to dust before my eyes. They served no purpose but to dress up the raw, desperate surge of emotion I felt when I looked at her as if it was something that could ever be described in mere words. I wished I could simply open my mouth and have the words come tumbling out, so she'd know how desperately afraid I was that tomorrow this would be gone for good. Or worse – I'd survive and she wouldn't. I wished I could tell her how my heart seized up in my chest every time she flashed me that grin of hers, how the freckles dancing across her face as she wrinkled her nose made my breath catch in my throat. How my life had changed for the better in every possible way since I'd met her. How I'd almost lost myself before her bright eyes and easy laughter had pulled me back from the brink. How, in her, I saw the good in the world I'd long since given up on, how she was so, perfectly, heart-wrenchingly beautiful that it seemed to me impossible that I could be holding her in my arms even now. How— "I love you."
It didn't hit me that I'd actually spoken until her head snapped up, the playful expression flooding from her face as her mouth dropped open into a perfect 'o' of surprise. She looked at me like I'd just shoved her over the edge of the wall, her expression torn and her lips quivering. Her hands had been resting carelessly on my shoulders, and were now grasping my shirt like it was the only thing keeping her upright.
The first drop of rain hit her forehead, slid down around her brow bone, and vanished on her cheek like a tear.
"What...what did you say?" she whispered sharply, her voice trembling. I still didn't know if what I'd done had been very good, or very bad. Either way, it was out, for her to do with as she wished. And either way, I couldn't make things worse by repeating myself.
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"I love you, Evelyn." His voice was so soft, so tender, and so sincere.
Oh gods. Oh gods, he'd said it. Just when I thought I'd get away from this unscathed, he'd come out with the words I'd been pushing to the back of my mind for so long now, and my heart was hammering in my chest. My mouth was parched, and a slow, unfamiliar warmth crept up my body, suffocating any chance of an offhand reply. I couldn't move. I just stared at him, my mouth open and my body shaking. The light mist of rain coupled with the adrenaline pumping through my blood made my skin prickle with gooseflesh. I didn't know what to do. I was torn between either kissing him to silence any further talk, or screaming at him that I loved him back with every dirty, flawed part of me there was. It wasn't a thought I'd entertained until right that second. I hadn't had any need to.
His face fell a little at my reaction. I could hardly blame him. I was acting like he'd just slapped me across the face. I suppose he had, in a way. Whatever I'd expected of him, it hadn't been that. Something about this felt unreal. It was unfamiliar territory, and yes, I admitted, I was scared. I was scared of what this meant, and how it changed everything. How I could no longer pretend that I'd recover from losing him tomorrow. The hours stretching ahead suddenly became so much more important.
There was still a pure, naked longing in his eyes, and a more familiar heat bloomed deep in my abdomen. Praying he'd understand, willing everything I felt into one small gesture, I leant up, grasping his face between my hands, and pressed my lips against his still-open mouth. If I couldn't tell him how I felt, I could at least show him. In that, at least, I knew what I was doing. I parted my lips and my tongue darted into his mouth, coaxing him, encouraging him, telling him everything words were too useless to explain. I'd felt this strange desperation for him once before, but this time I'd probably kill him if he pushed me away.
Somehow, I knew he understood. His hands slicked back my hair, now damp with the spattering of rain, and pulled me closer to him. My hands roamed over the back of his neck, into his hair, tugging and teasing until a low sound of pleasure came from the back of his throat. I needed no further encouragement. I pressed my hips against his, pushing him back so I could slide off the battlements. His lips moved from my mouth to my chin, my jaw, the tip of my elven-pointed ear. All coherent thought fled my mind as I shuddered against him, my back arching towards his body.
"Let's go inside," I whispered throatily, surprising myself at how shaky my voice was.
Those were the last words said that night.
We made it to my window, half-mad with the taste of each other. My lips felt swollen, and I cursed the need for him to pull away as he climbed through into my room. Part of me worried that he'd snap out of this strange, lusty haze the second I let him go. But no. As I clambered through after him his arms were around me in an instant, his mouth descending on mine and teasing a whimper from my throat. I steered him the short distance to the door, never once letting his touch escape me, before my back was flattened against the hard oak. His hands came to rest against the door on each side of my head as his mouth worked its way down my neck. And then, as I fumbled with the lock, it struck me. I was going to do it. I was going to lie with him, and he was practically instigating it. Finally, I was going to get to show him exactly how much he meant to me in the way I knew best, and my breath caught in my throat as all the desire I'd suppressed over the past few months came rushing back to me in one gulp of air.
Oh gods, my legs were trembling. With shaking fingers I tugged up the hemline of his shirt, damp with the rain I'd barely noticed, and he broke away from me to pull it over his head, his eyes positively smouldering with desire as his lips found that spot just above my jugular, his bare skin hot and flushed through the fabric of my top. My breath came in short, ragged gasps as, with combined effort, we undid the buttons of my blouse and I yanked it from my arms. The kisses we shared grew wilder, deeper, and the layers of fabric remaining felt stifling all of a sudden. A shiver rippled up my body as my undershirt fell to the floor and my bare breasts pressed against his skin, my hardened nipples a testament to the warmth pooling at my centre.
The rain started to pound on the stones outside even as we stumbled over to my bed and I pushed him back onto the sheets, my seeking fingers unabashedly roaming over his body, taking in every little detail in case this was the last chance I'd get. He rolled me beneath him and slid his hand down to the waistband at my hips, my head arching back into the pillows even as the final boundaries fell away. Our bodies, slick with sweat, moved in the darkness, his dark eyes never leaving mine even as I raked my fingernails through his hair, down his back, wanting him even closer every second we were joined. Giddy with passion, I dragged my mouth over his lips, his neck, my teeth nipping at his ear, gasps of pleasure echoing through the small room and mingling with the shock of thunder from outside.
I needed him like I'd needed no other, and when release fell upon me at last and I cried out in his arms, I gave myself up to him entirely, offering whatever I was, whatever I had, and praying to the gods that it was enough.
I didn't care what came on the morrow. I didn't care if the Keep came crashing down on our heads the second the sun rose above the black horizon. For that night I was alive, I was euphoric, and I was loved. It was all that truly mattered.