Disclaimer: I don't own the World of Two Moons. I do, however own a few of the characters in this story.
Chapter Seven: Why Stop?
Why? He had not hesitated the night before last, so why had he stopped last night? Why had Bretch not continued to-
Dewshine didn't want to think about it.
The elf had spent most of the night in the tree, nearly traumatized out of her wits, repeating over and over again the same questions, still feeling the two kinds of pain;. The first was physical; he was a human, she a Wolfrider, naturally smaller than him in every way. The second was emotional and mental; he had betrayed her trust, had thought that she could love him suddenly, just because he loved her.
Why? What had he seen in her face that had made him stop?
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Bretch paced his own room, waiting to bring Shining Dew her breakfast as he thought. He remembered the wonder of two nights ago- no. That kind of thinking was what had turned him on then. But, oh Threksh't, she was beautiful! He loved her. Why did she not love him? How could she not see the future together?
He remembered why he had stopped- how she had collapsed at the last under him, how her eyes and face had shown a beaten spirit accepting the inevitable. She had surrendered to him, not responded to him. Shining Dew had not loved him in return that first night, either, he remembered. He had been so aroused by her he had not seen that.
But now he did. Now he could see how truly fragile she was. Shining Dew was a flower; Bretch could love it, admire it, but not touch it for fear of damaging it.
And he would never risk scarring it permanently. But a flower needs to be kept, not shut away. Shining Dew needed to be with him for her to become less fragile.
He needed to be with her, day in and day out. Not separate, together. Bretch knew Shining Dew would eventually turn to him, finding no other companionship. But sometimes a flower needed to be pruned, to be harmed in order to be kept around and admired.
So did Shining Dew. She needed to be hurt in order for her to turn to him with outstretched arms.
Bretch needed to set to pruning, but he would give his flower one last chance to turn her face to him.
