Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, FelineFriend47, WorldWideTinyMochi, and Summertea888! We've passed 100 reviews!
It's important to notice that we've seen Sleet coming to need physical affection more and more, just like other fairies. For the scene where Sleet kneels before Silvermist and to the end of the chapter, I listened to Wherever You Will Go by The Calling. I love how the song parallels the struggle going on in the scene. I intentionally wrote those sections with a slightly different viewpoint to really get the readers into the character's shoes.
"Why do I have a stick, but you have a flower stalk?" She frowned in the front yard in autumn two days later, in the perfect mood to fight with Sleet. He hadn't moved out—yet, but he did still avoid all physical contact and refused to speak about the battle. The closest he'd get to that topic was he'd teach her self-defense in case they attacked before the army was ready.
Sleet had asked Spruce a hundred times if it was safe to train her in self-defense, if there was no physical contact. Spruce had said that as long as she wasn't hit in the belly or jostled too hard, even hand-to-hand combat was safe for now.
"I have a flower stalk so I don't hurt you."
"But what if I hurt you?"
Lowering the stalk, he gave an exasperated look. "Don't impale me, and we'll be fine."
Her eyes widened. "What's impale? This doesn't sound good."
"Don't try to thrust it through me—"
"What?!" She dropped the stick.
Drawing a deep breath for patience, he cocked an eyebrow. "We've been here for fifteen minutes. Stop talking and listen. Pick up your stick."
"No. I'm using a flower stalk, too, then—"
Sleet was gone, and a flower stalk pressed to her neck from behind..
"You're dead," he growled. He kicked up her stick and handed it over. Then he came around and gave a leveling look. "There could be an entire army of Alamur coming. You need to learn how to protect yourself. I can handle up to ten on my own, but not when I'm trying to protect both of us to get you out of the kingdom."
"Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I can't be in the battle," she mumbled. If he'd only follow her plan, she could have all of the Alamur drowned in the ocean with only lifting a finger—well, maybe ten fingers.
But his Alamur ears heard and he gave a leveling look that said the topic wasn't up for discussion.
She scowled. "I don't need you to protect me."
"Prove it." He held up the stalk. "One…"
Heaving a sigh, she raised the stick.
"Two...three!" He gave a slow undercut.
She started wacking at the stalk over and over.
"No." Lowering his arm, he sighed. "What are you doing?"
A frown met him. "You can't attack if I chop apart your stalk." If he grew frustrated enough, he'd show an attack just to prove his point that she couldn't handle it. And then she'd be able to start learning something useful.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he mumbled under his breath. "We're pretending these are swords."
"But I'm not going to let an Alamur close enough to need to use a sword."
Dropping his chin to his chest, he counted to ten like Fairy Mary. "Alamur move faster than you even can see. One will get close to you if they find out where you're hiding with the other Bright Fairies."
A chuckle broke the silence.
He glanced to the right. Lord Milori landed on his owl.
The General strode over with a smile and clapped him on the shoulder while looking at Silvermist. "Don't test his patience too hard. If you were in the Winter Army, he'd have chewed you up for breakfast by now. And congratulations, Silvermist. The Captain told me the news." He grinned, grabbed a nearby stick, and approached her. "Come. He's being too careful with you." Then he raised the stick to fight.
"No! You're not using a real stick!" Sleet protested and marched toward Lord Milori.
This treating her like glass was getting old. Before Sleet could stop the battle, she swung her stick toward Lord Milori's shoulder, and he raised to block. But she clapped him on the thigh with it instead.
"Ow!" Lord Milori blinked in surprise.
Using that second of surprise, she hit his opposite shoulder and made a downward thrust to his side. "You're dead. Can we do a real fight now?" she asked.
Sleet blinked and looked at Lord Milori, who wore a shocked expression.
"Alright, I underestimated you." Lord Milori stepped back and raised the stick again. "I'll be careful with her, Captain. I have a feeling that I'm the one you should be protecting."
It was an amateur battle, but Silvermist held her own well enough. "Good!" he called, coaching from the sidelines like he did with new recruits. "Protect your left!" He shouted, just as Lord Milori swung a downward thrust.
She blocked, although not cleanly, but she did it.
Lord Milori soon grew flushed from the autumn heat and tapped out.
So he stepped in with the sword stick. "You're feeling alright?"
His little dewdrop answered with a surprise uppercut that he barely blocked in time.
She grinned, just like all new recruits who thought they were good, not realizing they were being handled with kid gloves. That kind of cockiness led to death—it needed to be squashed.
He swung, moving slightly faster than Lord Milori.
And she blocked and blocked, falling victim to chronic defense. It was only a matter of time before she missed a block and ended up dead.
She panted from the effort, swinging over and over to stop attacks. Her cheeks grew flushed and a hint of panic filled her eyes from getting overwhelmed. Then she fumbled. He swung the stick and stopped right at her neck. "You're dead."
Lord Milori clapped from where he sat on the front steps, breaking a layer of frost that he had put over himself. "Good for the first training session."
Except determination burned in her eyes. "Again. As an Alamur," she ordered.
He shook his head. "You'd be dead in an instant, and you're pregnant. That's enough for today. You need to rest. We'll work your way up."
"Alamur could come at any minute. Train me now."
Glancing at Lord Milori, who shrugged and brought her a leaf filled with water to drink, he looked around to be sure no one would see. "Alright, one time, if you drink all of that water. Spruce said if you get dehydrated, you could have contractions."
Lord Milori gave a light frost over her brow.
With an angry sigh, she drank all of the water and then took up her battle stance.
"One...two...three!" He opened his wings to shoot at her.
She opened her wings, and a gust of wind flung him onto his back.
He blinked in confusion. She was too small to have pushed him down. What the Neverland happened? A stick pressed to his throat.
"You're dead." Those brown eyes held a defiance, a spirit that served soldiers well in battle.
"Oh ho, she's good at using the element of surprise," Lord Milori laughed. "I do believe that's the first time I've seen a recruit knock you on your—"
"I know," he snapped and pushed himself up.
"Are you going to actually train me now?" She held out a hand.
It stung the pride to take her hand and accept help up after that embarrassing attack. "No. And you're pregnant—you're not helping me up." He rolled onto his knees and got up.
She held the stick to his throat, anger flaring in her eye. "I don't need reminding every five seconds that I'm pregnant. Do you think Alamur are going to care? They're not going to say, 'Oh, you're having a baby? Well, just scamper over to the field of flowers and sunbathe.'" She gave a whack on the thigh just hard enough to sting a bit.
Another belly laugh from Lord Milori. "Oh, I do believe I like watching someone train the Captain for a change."
Snatching the end of her stick, he scowled. "You're hot and tired. We're done."
"Fine. I'll train with him." She spun on her heel and marched toward Lord Milori.
The fact that Lord Milori didn't even try to hide his smirk fueled the irritation.
Shooting over at Alamur speed to block her path, made her slam to a halt. And had the gall to tilt up her chin in a challenge.
"Oh, Captain, I think you've met your match. She may be little, but she has enough fire to stand up to an Alamur and keep the next Lord of Winter properly in line. Silvermist, you've made my week," he chuckled. "As much as I'd love to stay and watch her whip you, I'd best go rescue my mate from a fussy baby."
Still meeting Sleet's glare, she heard Lord Milori's owl take off.
"We are done." It came out like a command to a soldier.
"Not until you teach me something."
His eyebrow cocked. "If you were one of my soldiers…" he hissed between his teeth, clearly out of patience.
"I'd have shown them three ways to have bested you by now," she snapped, trying to push his buttons so he'd stop being so stupidly stubborn. She needed to learn now more than ever how to protect herself.
His eyes began to narrow. "Get in the house."
"No. If they find out I'm carrying your heir, you don't think they'll come after me after they finish you?"
Panic flashed through his face, as if he hadn't thought of that. His pupils and irises tightened into slits. "You absolutely aren't getting anywhere near the battlefield. I'm not teaching you a damn thing because you'll try to come out of hiding!"
"Of course I'm coming out! They could slay the entire kingdom in a minute, and then it's you against how many hundreds of Alamur?!" Snatching the stick from him, she gave a flap that knocked him on his backside. And marched forward to give another flap as he moved to get up.
If he was angry enough, he'd fight, thinking he was showing her that she couldn't best an Alamur.
Again, he moved to get up, so she marched forward and pressed the stick to his belly while flapping her wings enough to keep him pinned. "I'll fight them whether you teach me or not!" she called over the wind she made.
He leaned to the side and grabbed her ankle, pulling her feet out from under her.
But instead of slamming to the ground, she was in his arms and ripping up toward the clouds. It was so fast that she started to get dizzy. He stopped quickly enough that she went slightly airborne in his arms.
"I could've quartered you by now," he snarled.
Pushing hard against him, surprise widened his eyes as she fell out of his arms and he dove to come after her. But she opened her wings and gave a powerful flap that pushed him backwards.
He caught himself and set his jaw. Then he surged forward.
Another powerful flap and then she took off in the clouds, a chance to see if she could fly faster than the Alamur and outmaneuver them in the air. It took effort to keep ahead of him. Using gravity would give speed, but it would speed him up even more with his extra weight. And he'd be able to ride her break in the wind. But her wings gave better aerodynamics.
Climbing as high as possible, the air grew bitter cold. It was enough to have snapped off her old wings. Glancing behind, Sleet reached out to grab her ankle. Bending in half, she dove straight down. The air was different here—the ocean had to be below.
Silvermist was being stubborn and naive in thinking she could best an Alamur, much less a skilled assassin. A surprise attack would frighten her into stopping this nonsense. Reaching out to grab her ankle, he could flip her trajectory to send her into a free fall and use those seconds to grab her and explain the sick tortures that an Alamur would do on her way down.
Except, she cut into a nosedive. She angled her wings and gained so much speed that she moved two, three, five, eight, eleven lengths ahead. Breaking through the clouds, the ocean came into view. Neverland, she'd led him right to the water where she'd have an advantage and might get a false sense of being able to best the Alamur. Her weakness was on land and on the ground, which was why he'd started training there.
She skimmed right down to the surface and then soared parallel to it, the water beginning to vibrate under her command. She was going to splash him.
Following, he gained speed. If he went fast enough and tucked his wings, he might be able to shoot through any blasts of water and keep his wings just dry enough to fly.
A wall of water bolted up, and he shot up into the sky. It was too thick to fly through, the smart water fairy. Reaching the top, she was far ahead and glanced back. She shot balls of water that were easy enough to dodge and pick up speed to get to her.
But she stopped, hovered over the water, and raised her arms.
Another wall of water burst up from the sea, this one too wide and tall to get around as it started to curl over to trap him inside. Stretching his arms out and tucking his wings down at the last moment, he shot through it. He raised his wings on the other side, using the free fall to dry them. Then he gave a flap, barely having lost any height, and shot toward her.
Shock paralyzed her for a moment. Her arms lowered, and the water could be heard crashing back into the sea. When she opened her wings wide to give a flap that would've blown him away, he shot behind her too fast to be seen.
She looked around, as if confused where he'd gone.
Gently reaching under her wings to cup her belly, he whispered, "Boo."
The poor thing startled violently, and her wings almost faltered.
"Do not think you can best an Alamur," he rumbled, softly stroking the baby. "If they know about the baby, they won't hesitate to cut him out while you're still alive and make you watch while they chop him apart."
Her terror was so great that it almost hurt to get the burst of energy to his glow. As her chest heaved, her hands locked around his wrists like trying to stop his touch.
"That is only the first of many horrific ways they'll torture you." He held her belly tighter and pressed a kiss against her hair.
"H...how do you know what they'll do?" Her voice quivered in a way that said she already knew the answer.
He swallowed hard. "Because they'll do what I trained them to do."
She pushed his hands away and spun around with tears in her eyes as she held her belly. "You taught them to do that to a baby?"
Shaking his head, he heaved a sigh. "Fairies don't have babies. But with how I taught them to think, it's what they would do. You need to know so you understand how dangerous this is, especially now with a baby."
Her head turned away, like she couldn't stomach to look at him. "I want to go home." Silvermist turned and started flying, not even waiting for him.
The entire way home, she wouldn't let go of her belly.
Worry crept in when she still held it after going up the porch steps. "Do you hurt?" He opened the front door for her. There hadn't been a touch to her skin, so they shouldn't have caught any darkness from him.
She shook her head and swept past and into the bedchamber. The door closed.
Heaving a sigh, he dropped onto the sofa and let his head fall back to stare at the ceiling. Since the ultrasound, the rift with her kept growing. It served him right for trying to have a happily ever after when he was meant to be out there causing terror and death.
The door opened and her small footsteps stomped closer. He sat up as she stopped before him, still holding her belly and looking stark raving mad.
"The first time you've touched the baby since the ultrasound, it's to talk about chopping him up! Fix this, right now!" Tears glistened in her eyes.
Oh, Neverland. He closed his eyes. She was right.
Standing up, looking down into her beautiful eyes that glistened with tears made the ache to pull her close and kiss away each tear grow impossibly strong. But submission to it wasn't an option, as she'd welcome it and believed his love could rescue her and the baby from the darkness. In the end, he was an Alamur.
So instead he croaked, "I didn't think of it like that."
Heartbreak pulsed through her glow around his heart.
Lowering to his knees, cupping the soft swells of her hips slammed back memories of making love and holding and kissing her and being happier than he had a right to. Tears burned. Pressing a long kiss to her belly through her dress caused a tear to leak out. It took a moment to work up the strength to steady his voice so she wouldn't know. "I love you. I don't want anything to happen to you or your mother, and I need you to be a good boy and talk her into staying in hiding so you're both safe." He stroked her flat stomach. "You grow strong and kind, like your mother." His throat tightened and the darkness latched onto the pain. "There's no taking after me, you hear? You're going to be a good fairy, and don't you let in any of that darkness to hurt you or Mama." The tightness choked off further words as tears threatened to flow freely. Being this close but so far was unbearable torture.
Her hand stroked his hair, making his eyes close in response to the sweet agony.
"And be strong and brave, with a big heart, just like your Papa," she added. "You never have to be afraid because you have the best father in the world here to protect and love us."
Bowing his forehead against her belly was the only way to hide the tears that flowed freely now. The pain was too much to bear, but to let go of her would be even worse.
"Shhh, Sleet, it's alright." She must be able to sense the grief and she knelt to hug.
Shooting up to avoid skin-to-skin contact, he spun away so she wouldn't see the tears that wouldn't stop as the pain swelled. "You can't touch me," came out no stronger than a whisper. And then he escaped through the closest door—the bedchamber.
The darkness could be felt trying to grow stronger in Sleet the past few days. She rubbed over her heart to strengthen his glow. Not touching seemed to be so hard on him, and the despicable darkness fed on his pain that he fought so hard to hide.
Last night she'd woken up to find herself tucked tight into bed with the blankets up to her neck and Sleet curled up against her with his head near her shoulder and his hand lightly stroking the baby. His glow around her heart had been full of so much pain that it almost hurt to be connected to him. He wouldn't have stayed if he'd known she was awake, so she pretended to sleep. It explained why she kept waking up with the blankets up to her chin—he was coming nightly. And it'd almost made her burst into tears.
He wouldn't be able to handle eleven months of this. The darkness was growing in him, and he looked exhausted like he couldn't sleep. There already was a strong chance the Alamur would kill him, but it was even more so the weaker he grew from the darkness.
Writing a note, she left it on the counter.
Went to talk to the Queen. Back soon.
I love you so much. We're going to get through this,
Dewdrop
The moment the bedchamber door closed, he sank to his knees and couldn't stop the quiet sobs.
It caused physical pain to be near her but not touch. At the same time, just being near her helped recede the darkness enough to prevent it from spreading through his entire heart. But just now, touching her and the baby through her dress, it caused a sense of unbearable loss.
The sight of her was a balm on his soul as much as it shredded his heart apart. And the thought of never being able to truly touch the baby was more pain than he could handle.
Leaving each night to go sleep on the roof and avoid touching her during slumber was the worst of all. After hearing her heartbeat slow after falling asleep, a desperate need would take hold to sneak back in and pull the blankets up to her chin so he could lie on top of the covers and hold her. Like some creepy stalker. It was harder to hide emotions from her since fully binding glows, but being able to pull his glow away from her somewhat and almost hold her at night kept the grief controlled enough that all she seemed to sense was some sadness.
Leaving an hour before sunrise to be gone before she woke was almost as hard as telling her goodnight each evening, willing to give anything to taste her sweet kiss or stroke her silky skin one more time. She always looked so sad in the moments before he left, and the ache in her glow around his heart was enough to not care who saw him fly up to the roof each night and weep.
It'd only been three days since he'd truly touched her and there were at least eleven months left. Just the thought of trying to endure this horrible torture for that long made him fall forward onto his hands and rest his forehead on the floor and sob so hard it was hard to breathe.