Penitent 26

We traveled for long hours. We walked through the mountains. Edward led. He kept Zane on his back. The infant loved to have his legs free so he could kick in time to his father's long strides. When Edward sensed any kind of danger or uncertainty, he pulled the sling he'd made from a blanket around to his chest and held the infant close. Jasper calmed the baby to keep him from protesting the restrictive contact. Zane did not care to be coddled, and would fight against too much handling. The only time he was content to be babied was when he nursed, and nurse he did, always too eager, as if he resented the time it took to concentrate on feeding, as if he could not make peace with his need. And that frantic distraction, his own inward battle, allowed me the precious minutes of tenderness.

He quickly learned to listen to Edward. When Edward would tell him to hush, he would do so, as if excited by what was coming. He would strain to see around him, appearing frustrated that he couldn't manipulate his legs to strike a warrior's pose ready for battle. I had to remind Edward to share the load with Rose. Zane couldn't always be with his father, as Edward had to hunt. I knew her arms ached to hold him, even though he was miserable to embrace. I explained to Edward that Zane needed to stay submissive to our leading. By not being allowed to insist on his preferences in travel, he was challenged to obey. It was that, and other things, we understood he would always struggle with.

Amuel spent time between myself and Alice. Alice only spelled me to save the milk. We both knew I found it hard to part with my lamb. He was curious, but contented to be bundled and transported by whatever means. He only cried when hungry, and then just to announce the fact. He was easily appeased, reasonable beyond my expectations.

As Edward charted our course he would confer with me. He would tell me the best way to go, as he'd traveled far in his tortured wonderings as the Lion. But now, to live up to his promise to refrain from decisions I could not bless, he carefully explained, yet again, the reasons for taking this trail or that. "Edward," I said, "I trust you. I know nothing of travel. You don't need my approval."

"Yes, Love, I do indeed need your approval."

"Not on such matters. If it is a decision in which I feel justice is in the balance, I will not hesitate to give an opinion, but on these matters…trust yourself."

So we locked eyes as he thought over my words.

"Kate is much more astute about the lay of these mountains," I reminded him. Two birds. One stone. He approached her then, and she was a great help to him.

On the second week, Edward killed a man. Worse, he did so with Zane packed on his back. We were in a wooded area. Emmett had gone ahead as was his wont, checking the trees, clearing the path of danger. But this man lived in a tree, in its broad trunk. Neither Emmett nor Edward had sensed him so near. The fellow waited for Edward's approach and attacked from the doorway of his abode. Edward's instinct, made more deadly with the baby threatened, was to raise the stick he carried and strike a deadly blow to the side of the man's head.

We gathered around him then. When I put my hand on his arm, I felt him tense and close himself from my comfort. He was only worried about protecting us, so I submitted while he gave orders and reassured himself there were no others laying in wait. After that, he made the decision to camp for the night. I knew he would want to go off and brood. I feared this more than any attacker. We were too soon reunited for me to be able to bear him closing himself from me.

Hours later, with the babies fed and guarded, I walked the short path to the nearby lake. Edward sat on the bank, looking over the tranquil scene. His hair had grown so long and wild, but it only heightened his beauty, dark as it was, streaked with the red, such a contrast, like fire, true fire where something consumes and something dies.

I stood beside him, but he did not speak. Starting with my shoes, I slowly shed my clothes. He did not do more than look, but his eyes on me brought comfort and excitement. I felt the fleeting touch of his fingers on my thigh as I moved a few steps forward into the water. When it soaked the tips of my long hair I turned to face him. "Come to me," I said.

He hadn't moved, but watched me, his feet together, but his knees open, his elbows resting on them, his strong hands at ease.

I knew it gave him pleasure to see me so free and bold in the pale twilight.

He stood and slowly worked at the buttons of his shirt. He shrugged that off, and the t-shirt beneath. His muscles moved in ways that held my attention like no other's. The scars of battle were still visible, some would never fade, nor would their honor. He discarded shoes and pants, and was naked now, his legs strong, his steps so sure as he slowly made his way toward me, his member ready to spear me.

The waters fanned against his steady approach, parting for him like my legs when he put his arms around me and easily picked me up. I wrapped myself around him as he embedded his flesh into mine.

"My protector," I whispered. "My strong angel, each wound, each scar gives me so much pride."

And it was those words which brought us to release without movement, without the need of anything more than the undressing. The joining. The knowing. We are one.