Thanks for all you guys who reviewed - since you did I thought it would
only be decent to continue writing!
Numair's Daine: Thanks, I wondered if the blood idea would make sense or not.
Csporty128: I've updated!
Okie: I'm glad you can see the beginning of a plot because so can I.
Ice-Otter: You couldn't find the transition? - I'm honoured and the story will go somewhere I assure you.
Martini: Thank you!
XXX: I'm glad you think it's a masterpiece, but I don't deserve that. (Do I?)
Darkmoon's Lady: What does the blood problem have to do with Uusoae? Ah, you'll have to wait and see!
Rach: Rachel, my dear, you need to learn to spell (i.e. chapter, not chepter). Thanks for the praise though and see you soon if you don't kill me first.
Domino Master: Don't ask me who has got Daine - read on and see.
Raashna: Of course it's not fair - that's why it's called a cliff-hanger! You may be fair surprised by the "greeting"!
Coley: Thank you so much for the support. It means loads since you writing such a good fic yourself.
Dracos Myth: Thank you.
Kylaia: Temper, temper and here's the chapter!
Jossie: Thanks, that's the longest review I've ever had! Also your perceptions may not be as misleading as you imagine! Also, I've read Mysterious Happenings and I love it! You must update soon!
Disclaimer: I have never, will never own any of these characters, more the shame for me!
Thunder Only Happens When It's Raining
The net of fear in which Daine was ensnared weakened and its twisted fibres fell from her mind as the wild panic that had governed her actions so far began to subside. The unreasonable terror, which had formerly gripped her so tightly, was now replaced with amusement at the predicament she found herself to be in. Beneath the heavy hand her mouth curled into a small sneer, soft lips brushing a calloused palm. A light tremor ran through the owner of that hand and feeling that, Daine found it hard to suppress a grin, confident that she had some power over her attacker. She slipped her hand down to her knife belt, catching her breath when the man behind her tensed slightly. 'Easy now,' she thought, clenching her teeth in anticipation. She wrapped slender fingers about the cross-bound hilt of her dagger and silently slid it out of its leather sheath. Taking a deep breath, Daine shifted her shape slightly, allowing her to spin around, resume her shape and bring her blade up to kiss her attacker's throat.
"And how exactly do you propose to do that, Master Salmalin?"
"I have no idea," murmured her teacher distractedly, plucking the knife from her hold in order to save himself from harm and lowering his head to brush her lips with his own. He smiled at the thrill that raced through his lean body because of that simple gesture; he rested his hand gently behind his young love's curly head, and slipped his other arm about her waist, pulling her close. Her red lips pouted subconsciously and beckoned to the deep well of desire and love that was entwined with his being. The fire was unleashed when she drew his head down again to hers, capturing his lips with a light yet insistent kiss of her own. His need for her, beating its fiery wings powerfully against his chest, was inflamed to such an extent that it was all he could do not to lose himself from that moment in.
He withdrew his lips suddenly, realising that he still had qualms about the propriety of this relationship. Daine was so beautiful, so innocent, so young - what right did he have to bring an end to this innocence? He had realised long ago that he wished for their relationship to develop beyond the platonic but now that this dream was becoming a reality, he feared the consequences. He desired her, he needed her but moreover he loved her with an intensity that surpassed even that which he harboured for his books and learning. She was his magelet yet he did not want his own feelings to indoctrinate her decisions nor did he want people to believe that he was with her only as a means of placating his sexual desire. Reluctantly he drew away from her, longing to look upon her face but unable to meet her eyes.
"Numair, what's wrong? Don't you want this anymore?"
Numair sighed and turned his head, averting his gaze. "Of course I want this sweetling, but I'm unsure about the propriety of my desire."
A warm hand turned his head back towards her and a single finger dared to trace the commanding features of his dark face. "And since when did you care about what people thought?" The question, although it was spoken, was not in her voice but in her tentative touch.
Numair grimaced at her accurate interpretation of his thoughts. He knew that should he voice his fears she herself would be hurt, yet he could not lie to her for that would wound her even more deeply. "I don't want you being hurt by court gossip, magelet."
"Oh, for the sake of the Gods, Numair, as if I really care a noble about what those dandies of the court think!" she snapped at him, eyes flashing in sudden anger. "To be frank, all I care about right now is you and me, us." With a great effort she kept a rein on the vicious words that nearly whipped from her tongue, certain that her tone had offended him but too resentful to care.
"Daine . . . I . . . they . . ." For once Numair didn't know what to say; he was struggling for words with which to elucidate his feelings. Then all of a sudden the pain in his love's face and in his heart allowed him to break free of the thoughts that trapped him. His voice was quiet in his trepidation "Daine, do you love me?"
A fleeting look of panic flickered briefly over her face, then she met his eyes with her own sad ones, confusion and resignation evident on her gentle features. "What is love?"
The question was asked in whispered tones, so soft it barely caught on the gentle breeze than continued to flow around them, but Numair heard every word as clearly as if they had been spoken into his ear. His eyes darkened with an unidentifiable emotion, one that Daine had never seen before and which he had never felt before, at least not this strong. There was a roaring in his ears- he had been so certain that his magelet had loved him, he had felt sure that he understood everything she had told him with her eyes and with her touch - was she even his magelet? The feeling of being betrayed by her uncertainty made his voice harsh as he battled the tears of despair that fought to make themselves known. He pulled away from her roughly, loathe to look at the only person whom he had ever sought to claim as his own.
"You will know what it is when you feel it, Daine."
That said, he could scarcely hold himself as tears of confusion and fear formed in Daine's stormy eyes. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her fiercely, knowing only too well that it did not contain the love that resided in his heart for her. Disgusted with himself, he tore himself away from arms that longed to hold him, eyes that begged for forgiveness and a heart that only wanted to be taught to recognise love.
The cruel claws of fear ripped Daine to pieces inside, tearing at her soul as Numair's hard unloving embrace tormented her; she didn't understand - couldn't he see that all she wanted was for him to tell her what love was so that she could justify the feelings that were so tightly intertwined with the rest of her? Why didn't he see that, what was the emotion so reminiscent of anger that darkened his eyes and made his voice turn so cold and contemptuous? He wrenched his mouth away from her bruised lips and her heart turned to ice and grew cold within a stone wall. Tears fell down her cheeks, the stream swelling to a river as his words echoed in the confines of her mind. "You will know what it is when you feel it." Her pride forced her to look up at him, but she recoiled from the wrath that etched violent, jagged lines in his face. Her voice trembled with suppressed anguish as she fought to speak beyond the lump that had formed in her throat.
"Is this goodbye then?"
"You tell me." His voice was no longer velvet masking a knife; the blade cut deep and savagely. Without waiting for her to respond, he turned quickly on his heel and strode out of the stall, not bothering to close the door behind him.
Daine just stood there, paralysed with shock and mute, unable to voice anything except to utter a small incoherent cry of disbelief and pain. She couldn't comprehend what had just happened. Numair had stormed off and he had . . . Daine shut her eyes in pain, knowing that Numair had just informed her that what once had existed between them was as good as finished. 'Why?' Her anguished mind kept repeating this question again and again, but the answer was as elusive as smoke and she dropped to her knees in the straw, unable to remain standing. All of a sudden she was struck by a flash of understanding, and enlightened, though her heart was dark, she raised a tear-stained up from where she had buried it in her hands.
"Goddess," she murmured, shock registering on her face. "He thinks that he is just a . . . just a fling until I find someone else, someone younger. So long as he thinks that I don't love him, our relationship will be nothing more than a teacher and his student." Even as she whispered these terrible words, understanding their full implication she knew what she must do to prevent Numair from leaving. She was also visited by the realisation of what love truly meant; it meant a willingness to die for another, a desire to be with them always, rejoicing just to be in their company. It meant that should they leave, life loses its former meaning and value and that to love someone is to want to do anything to make them happy, even if it means your own world collapsed.
"Numair," Diane whispered, breaking free of her paralysis and made brave by her confirmation of her love for him. There was no answer. She called his name again, louder this time and heard it echo around the empty buildings. There was still no answer; maybe there would never be an answer; "Numair!" she screamed, surging to her feet and running blindly out of the stables, not knowing where he had gone. The pain that had spread through her body whipped through out needle-like tendrils to pierce her spirit and fear fed off her despair, a parasite in her mind as still no answer disturbed the earth's gentle breath.
She opened her mouth to call again, though she knew already that her efforts would be in vain when a tickling sensation laced with gold entered her mind. The hackles on her neck rose and her breathing quickened as she recognised the sign of an immortal, a lone spidren in this case according to her magic senses.
'I've got to help the People,' she thought wildly, all intentions of reconciliation with Numair forgotten in her panic to save her kindred.
******
Numair wrenched the door to his rooms shut behind him, not caring that the sound reverberated along the corridor and around his room, only to be absorbed by the heavy bronze drapes that hung across his window, shielding him from the accusing glare of the afternoon sun. He sunk onto his bed, a picture of despair, cursing himself a thousand times over in as many tongues. How could he have spoken those words to her? Why did he have to hurt her like that? It hadn't been him saying and doing those things - he never acted so irrationally and cruelly; it had been some monster, unwilling to listen to the voice of reason, too involved in his own selfish needs.
And that kiss - it couldn't even be called a kiss, it had been so empty and punishing. A tear fell from the corner of his eye and travelled slowly down the swarthy skin of his cheek, caught in a creased line of pain. He shook violently, a silent, wordless moan issuing from his lips as he remembered and realised how he had abused Daine both physically and emotionally. He ached to hold her in his arms again, but he knew that she would have none of him now - how could she ever love him when he couldn't bear his own company?
Finally a wounded groan escaped his trembling lips and he collapsed, trying in vain to stop the tears that glistened in his dark eyes from spilling over and fighting the steel grip that held his throat, choking the life out of him. The pain ran deep inside him, breaking a spirit that he had thought had been strong enough to withstand the agony, thanks to the former life that he had left behind in Carthak He shut his eyes, trying to distance the world by becoming an island, but still he was haunted by the image of Daine's tormented face, wet with the profusion of tears that he had caused by his reckless words. He understood now too late what Daine had been asking him; she was only young, just sixteen and did not have his wide experience and so desired only an explanation of love, in order that she may confirm her own feelings. He had been right - his magelet was in love with him, used to be in love with him. This terrible knowledge far from justified his actions and the wild hope that maybe she recognised the motives for his behaviour did nothing to appease his fears.
The anguish began to recede as he drifted into a sleep filled with nightmares and corrupted memories, the beast within him slowly retracting its lethal claws, allowing his wounds to breathe, but not yet heal.
*****
I really hope you aren't all wanting to kill me for what I've just done - I couldn't help myself! As the great Bill Shakespeare said "Gentles, do not reprehend; if you pardon we will mend." And so, if you could send me some ah 'thoughts' by means of the purple box, I would appreciate it, though I reiterate my plea that you don't hurt me! P.S I may not be able to update for a little while because I have a GCSE this coming Tuesday!
Numair's Daine: Thanks, I wondered if the blood idea would make sense or not.
Csporty128: I've updated!
Okie: I'm glad you can see the beginning of a plot because so can I.
Ice-Otter: You couldn't find the transition? - I'm honoured and the story will go somewhere I assure you.
Martini: Thank you!
XXX: I'm glad you think it's a masterpiece, but I don't deserve that. (Do I?)
Darkmoon's Lady: What does the blood problem have to do with Uusoae? Ah, you'll have to wait and see!
Rach: Rachel, my dear, you need to learn to spell (i.e. chapter, not chepter). Thanks for the praise though and see you soon if you don't kill me first.
Domino Master: Don't ask me who has got Daine - read on and see.
Raashna: Of course it's not fair - that's why it's called a cliff-hanger! You may be fair surprised by the "greeting"!
Coley: Thank you so much for the support. It means loads since you writing such a good fic yourself.
Dracos Myth: Thank you.
Kylaia: Temper, temper and here's the chapter!
Jossie: Thanks, that's the longest review I've ever had! Also your perceptions may not be as misleading as you imagine! Also, I've read Mysterious Happenings and I love it! You must update soon!
Disclaimer: I have never, will never own any of these characters, more the shame for me!
Thunder Only Happens When It's Raining
The net of fear in which Daine was ensnared weakened and its twisted fibres fell from her mind as the wild panic that had governed her actions so far began to subside. The unreasonable terror, which had formerly gripped her so tightly, was now replaced with amusement at the predicament she found herself to be in. Beneath the heavy hand her mouth curled into a small sneer, soft lips brushing a calloused palm. A light tremor ran through the owner of that hand and feeling that, Daine found it hard to suppress a grin, confident that she had some power over her attacker. She slipped her hand down to her knife belt, catching her breath when the man behind her tensed slightly. 'Easy now,' she thought, clenching her teeth in anticipation. She wrapped slender fingers about the cross-bound hilt of her dagger and silently slid it out of its leather sheath. Taking a deep breath, Daine shifted her shape slightly, allowing her to spin around, resume her shape and bring her blade up to kiss her attacker's throat.
"And how exactly do you propose to do that, Master Salmalin?"
"I have no idea," murmured her teacher distractedly, plucking the knife from her hold in order to save himself from harm and lowering his head to brush her lips with his own. He smiled at the thrill that raced through his lean body because of that simple gesture; he rested his hand gently behind his young love's curly head, and slipped his other arm about her waist, pulling her close. Her red lips pouted subconsciously and beckoned to the deep well of desire and love that was entwined with his being. The fire was unleashed when she drew his head down again to hers, capturing his lips with a light yet insistent kiss of her own. His need for her, beating its fiery wings powerfully against his chest, was inflamed to such an extent that it was all he could do not to lose himself from that moment in.
He withdrew his lips suddenly, realising that he still had qualms about the propriety of this relationship. Daine was so beautiful, so innocent, so young - what right did he have to bring an end to this innocence? He had realised long ago that he wished for their relationship to develop beyond the platonic but now that this dream was becoming a reality, he feared the consequences. He desired her, he needed her but moreover he loved her with an intensity that surpassed even that which he harboured for his books and learning. She was his magelet yet he did not want his own feelings to indoctrinate her decisions nor did he want people to believe that he was with her only as a means of placating his sexual desire. Reluctantly he drew away from her, longing to look upon her face but unable to meet her eyes.
"Numair, what's wrong? Don't you want this anymore?"
Numair sighed and turned his head, averting his gaze. "Of course I want this sweetling, but I'm unsure about the propriety of my desire."
A warm hand turned his head back towards her and a single finger dared to trace the commanding features of his dark face. "And since when did you care about what people thought?" The question, although it was spoken, was not in her voice but in her tentative touch.
Numair grimaced at her accurate interpretation of his thoughts. He knew that should he voice his fears she herself would be hurt, yet he could not lie to her for that would wound her even more deeply. "I don't want you being hurt by court gossip, magelet."
"Oh, for the sake of the Gods, Numair, as if I really care a noble about what those dandies of the court think!" she snapped at him, eyes flashing in sudden anger. "To be frank, all I care about right now is you and me, us." With a great effort she kept a rein on the vicious words that nearly whipped from her tongue, certain that her tone had offended him but too resentful to care.
"Daine . . . I . . . they . . ." For once Numair didn't know what to say; he was struggling for words with which to elucidate his feelings. Then all of a sudden the pain in his love's face and in his heart allowed him to break free of the thoughts that trapped him. His voice was quiet in his trepidation "Daine, do you love me?"
A fleeting look of panic flickered briefly over her face, then she met his eyes with her own sad ones, confusion and resignation evident on her gentle features. "What is love?"
The question was asked in whispered tones, so soft it barely caught on the gentle breeze than continued to flow around them, but Numair heard every word as clearly as if they had been spoken into his ear. His eyes darkened with an unidentifiable emotion, one that Daine had never seen before and which he had never felt before, at least not this strong. There was a roaring in his ears- he had been so certain that his magelet had loved him, he had felt sure that he understood everything she had told him with her eyes and with her touch - was she even his magelet? The feeling of being betrayed by her uncertainty made his voice harsh as he battled the tears of despair that fought to make themselves known. He pulled away from her roughly, loathe to look at the only person whom he had ever sought to claim as his own.
"You will know what it is when you feel it, Daine."
That said, he could scarcely hold himself as tears of confusion and fear formed in Daine's stormy eyes. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her fiercely, knowing only too well that it did not contain the love that resided in his heart for her. Disgusted with himself, he tore himself away from arms that longed to hold him, eyes that begged for forgiveness and a heart that only wanted to be taught to recognise love.
The cruel claws of fear ripped Daine to pieces inside, tearing at her soul as Numair's hard unloving embrace tormented her; she didn't understand - couldn't he see that all she wanted was for him to tell her what love was so that she could justify the feelings that were so tightly intertwined with the rest of her? Why didn't he see that, what was the emotion so reminiscent of anger that darkened his eyes and made his voice turn so cold and contemptuous? He wrenched his mouth away from her bruised lips and her heart turned to ice and grew cold within a stone wall. Tears fell down her cheeks, the stream swelling to a river as his words echoed in the confines of her mind. "You will know what it is when you feel it." Her pride forced her to look up at him, but she recoiled from the wrath that etched violent, jagged lines in his face. Her voice trembled with suppressed anguish as she fought to speak beyond the lump that had formed in her throat.
"Is this goodbye then?"
"You tell me." His voice was no longer velvet masking a knife; the blade cut deep and savagely. Without waiting for her to respond, he turned quickly on his heel and strode out of the stall, not bothering to close the door behind him.
Daine just stood there, paralysed with shock and mute, unable to voice anything except to utter a small incoherent cry of disbelief and pain. She couldn't comprehend what had just happened. Numair had stormed off and he had . . . Daine shut her eyes in pain, knowing that Numair had just informed her that what once had existed between them was as good as finished. 'Why?' Her anguished mind kept repeating this question again and again, but the answer was as elusive as smoke and she dropped to her knees in the straw, unable to remain standing. All of a sudden she was struck by a flash of understanding, and enlightened, though her heart was dark, she raised a tear-stained up from where she had buried it in her hands.
"Goddess," she murmured, shock registering on her face. "He thinks that he is just a . . . just a fling until I find someone else, someone younger. So long as he thinks that I don't love him, our relationship will be nothing more than a teacher and his student." Even as she whispered these terrible words, understanding their full implication she knew what she must do to prevent Numair from leaving. She was also visited by the realisation of what love truly meant; it meant a willingness to die for another, a desire to be with them always, rejoicing just to be in their company. It meant that should they leave, life loses its former meaning and value and that to love someone is to want to do anything to make them happy, even if it means your own world collapsed.
"Numair," Diane whispered, breaking free of her paralysis and made brave by her confirmation of her love for him. There was no answer. She called his name again, louder this time and heard it echo around the empty buildings. There was still no answer; maybe there would never be an answer; "Numair!" she screamed, surging to her feet and running blindly out of the stables, not knowing where he had gone. The pain that had spread through her body whipped through out needle-like tendrils to pierce her spirit and fear fed off her despair, a parasite in her mind as still no answer disturbed the earth's gentle breath.
She opened her mouth to call again, though she knew already that her efforts would be in vain when a tickling sensation laced with gold entered her mind. The hackles on her neck rose and her breathing quickened as she recognised the sign of an immortal, a lone spidren in this case according to her magic senses.
'I've got to help the People,' she thought wildly, all intentions of reconciliation with Numair forgotten in her panic to save her kindred.
******
Numair wrenched the door to his rooms shut behind him, not caring that the sound reverberated along the corridor and around his room, only to be absorbed by the heavy bronze drapes that hung across his window, shielding him from the accusing glare of the afternoon sun. He sunk onto his bed, a picture of despair, cursing himself a thousand times over in as many tongues. How could he have spoken those words to her? Why did he have to hurt her like that? It hadn't been him saying and doing those things - he never acted so irrationally and cruelly; it had been some monster, unwilling to listen to the voice of reason, too involved in his own selfish needs.
And that kiss - it couldn't even be called a kiss, it had been so empty and punishing. A tear fell from the corner of his eye and travelled slowly down the swarthy skin of his cheek, caught in a creased line of pain. He shook violently, a silent, wordless moan issuing from his lips as he remembered and realised how he had abused Daine both physically and emotionally. He ached to hold her in his arms again, but he knew that she would have none of him now - how could she ever love him when he couldn't bear his own company?
Finally a wounded groan escaped his trembling lips and he collapsed, trying in vain to stop the tears that glistened in his dark eyes from spilling over and fighting the steel grip that held his throat, choking the life out of him. The pain ran deep inside him, breaking a spirit that he had thought had been strong enough to withstand the agony, thanks to the former life that he had left behind in Carthak He shut his eyes, trying to distance the world by becoming an island, but still he was haunted by the image of Daine's tormented face, wet with the profusion of tears that he had caused by his reckless words. He understood now too late what Daine had been asking him; she was only young, just sixteen and did not have his wide experience and so desired only an explanation of love, in order that she may confirm her own feelings. He had been right - his magelet was in love with him, used to be in love with him. This terrible knowledge far from justified his actions and the wild hope that maybe she recognised the motives for his behaviour did nothing to appease his fears.
The anguish began to recede as he drifted into a sleep filled with nightmares and corrupted memories, the beast within him slowly retracting its lethal claws, allowing his wounds to breathe, but not yet heal.
*****
I really hope you aren't all wanting to kill me for what I've just done - I couldn't help myself! As the great Bill Shakespeare said "Gentles, do not reprehend; if you pardon we will mend." And so, if you could send me some ah 'thoughts' by means of the purple box, I would appreciate it, though I reiterate my plea that you don't hurt me! P.S I may not be able to update for a little while because I have a GCSE this coming Tuesday!