AN: Hello friends! This is my first attempt at a multi-chapter story. I hope you all enjoy!
Kragisa watched listlessly as the landscape changed from the vibrant, grassy plains of Mulgore to the bleak, bare earth of Desolace. The windrider her brother hired gave a snarl as if to express his displeasure at the heatwave that rose to meet them. They'd been flying for what felt like hours, and both were eager to finish their journey.
"You need a break," Narasu had told her that morning. "Spend a week sleeping in a hammock by the sea. You'll forget all about this."
She stared up at him, too numb to speak, until he gripped both her shoulders and gave her a little shake. "Trust me, Gisa," he rumbled, giving her his best I'm your older brother and I know better look. When he released her, one hand touched the lion's tooth that hung from a leather thong around her neck, the one she'd gotten from her very first hunt. "Ancestors watch over you, sister."
Other memories threatened to surface, but Gisa forced them out of her head with a gnash of her teeth. She was an orc, and she would not dwell on matters of the heart, no matter how painful. Despite her best efforts to shake it off, the numbness crept back over her, smothering her self-irritation.
Something whistled past them, making her start. Up until now, their flight had been uneventful save for the occasional bird, but those had kept well away from them. She hadn't expected to see - were those arrows? One pierced the windrider's left wing, the creature letting out a mix between a scream and a roar as it faltered in midair.
"Centaurs!" Gisa snarled, but when she looked down, they weren't near one of the centaur villages. She couldn't see who was firing arrows, but she did see balls of green energy speeding towards her. Something must have hit her mount in a vital spot, because the next thing she knew, they were falling out of the sky, hurtling towards the ground at a frightening rate of speed.
Thorny brambles surged up out of the dead earth, reaching for her like clawed fingers. They broke her fall a little; but she crashed through the brittle vines, acquiring fresh scratches all over, before smashing into the ground with a thunk.
Everything hurt. At once, she knew multiple ribs were broken, along with a leg and perhaps both arms. Only the adrenaline pumping into her system allowed her to struggle in a semi-upright position, her eyes wide and searching for her attackers. Her vision was red-tinged from pain, but she could see the dead windrider several yards away, surrounded by her scattered belongings.
Movement behind her made her whirl around, staggering, keeping herself upright only by sheer force of will. If she was going to die, she would die standing.
Two night elves approached her, a male and a female. The female sneered at her with contempt as she brushed her green hair from her eyes. She said something to the male, who was examining Gisa with curiosity and sadness. The two had what seemed like an argument, all while Gisa barely clung to consciousness, trying to summon the elements to her aid. Her magic eluded her mental grasp, and no help came.
At last, the female elf gave Gisa one last contemptuous look, then left. The male approached her slowly, his eyes full of that strange sadness. He's going to kill me, she thought frantically. Without the elements to aid her, all she could do was take a feeble swing at him. She missed, and her momentum carried her straight to the ground, where she finally slipped into darkness.
Warmth enveloped her. She lay on a soft bed with a blanket wrapped around her, and nearby was the soft crackle of a fire. If this was death, it wasn't so bad after all.
With what felt like a monumental effort, she cracked an eye open and looked around. She was in some kind of ruined pavilion with half of its marble pillars broken. Part of the roof was still intact, and she noticed she was placed thoughtfully under the meager shelter. Under her was a pile of moss and leaves covered by a blanket to keep her off the stone floor. The fire was at the other end of the floor, burning smokelessly as it cooked the skewered fish above it.
"You're awake," a soft voice said nearby. With a jerk, Gisa looked around and spotted the male night elf sitting against the base of a ruined pillar.
"You!" the orc snarled. She struggled with the blanket and quickly found herself winded by the pain that coursed through her whole body.
"Easy," he crooned in a soothing voice. "Here, drink this." He got to his feet and stepped towards her with a skin of liquid in hand.
"Don't touch me!" Gisa rasped through the pain. At last, she got her legs untangled from the blanket and staggered upright, her whole body trembling from the effort. She didn't have her weapons, didn't even know where they were, but when she called, the elements answered. Lightning crackled around her fists, spreading upwards to circle her arms up to her elbows.
The night elf watched her guardedly as she took a labored step forward, discovered that her leg wouldn't hold her weight, and fell face-first onto the stone. She cursed loudly, then again as she tasted blood. "What did you do to me?" she demanded, glaring up at him.
"I did nothing but tend to your wounds," he told her in a bland tone. "And I stopped my sister from killing you."
"Maybe you should have let her," Gisa groaned, and immediately felt ashamed of herself. She may have been in intense pain, both physically and emotionally, but it was cowardly to wish for death.
The man knelt beside her. "Will you at least let me help you back into bed? You need the rest."
Why did he care? How could he care? They were on opposite sides of a war that, last she checked, was still ongoing. She had done nothing for him, and he wanted to save her life. Suspicion roiled in her gut, but she was too weak and in pain to tell him no.
When she was settled back on the bed, the elf laid his hand on her stomach and closed his eyes. "I need to heal your ribs again. They're fragile for a few days after healing, so try not to fall anymore."
Gisa rolled her eyes with a snort. "And whose fault is it that they broke in the first place?"
He was silent as warm healing energy seeped into her from his hand, guiding her broken ribs back into place with a sharp surge of pain that was immediately replaced with cool relief. Once that was done, he sat back on his heels and looked her square in the face. "We were sent here to kill a messenger. My sister thought you were that messenger, but clearly you are not."
"But why do you keep me alive now? I am Horde, you are Alliance. We are not friends."
He looked away, into the horizon over the sea. "Too many innocents die. You did not come here with the intent to fight us. I don't feel right having a part in your death."
Weakness. That was why she was still alive. Nearly anyone else she knew would have killed her even after learning she was the wrong person. This elf was not cut out for war, she thought with disdain.
"Will you drink this now?" He was holding the skin out to her. "It's just tea with some medicinal herbs. It'll help with the pain."
Reluctantly, she took the skin, sniffed its contents, and gagged. "I think ale would work just as well."
He turned away to check on the fish, but she could hear the smile in his voice. "Perhaps temporarily. This will work better."
The "tea" was more like sludgy leaf water, in Gisa's opinion. She forced it down her throat with much gagging, thinking her condition couldn't be made much worse even if this were indeed poison. When she was done, she threw the skin as hard as she could, sending it sailing over the edge of the cliff.
The elf watched it disappear with a frown. He had two wooden plates, each with two cooked fish. "That was my good waterskin," he said as he set her plate before her.
"It was ruined," Gisa said with full conviction. He would have never been able to drink anything out of it without tasting some hint of that foul concoction, she believed.
With her knowledge of night elves, she thought he would eat his food daintily with delicate silverware, but instead, he picked up the fish with his hands and tore into it with surprisingly sharp fangs. Happily, she followed suit, polishing off her two fish in what she thought would be record time, except he'd beaten her. He had the fire banked for the night and stood looking out over the sea, sipping from another skin.
"What messenger did you think I was?" she asked as she settled back into her bed. "And how do you speak Orcish so well?"
"Spying," he replied as answer to both. Gisa took that to mean he wouldn't share anything else about the subject. "And why were you flying to Desolace without any armor or weapons?"
The question, though innocent enough, made her feel like she'd been kicked in the gut. All the memories that had fled her mind at the threat of imminent danger came flooding back, and she had to force them away again. "I needed a break."
That got his attention. He turned back to her, one elegant eyebrow raised. "In Desolace?"
"Shadowprey Village is very relaxing," she said, a little embarrassed. "They have hammocks overlooking the sea and no shortage of fresh seafood."
"I thought a vacation for an orc would involve more bloodshed," he said idly.
"Perhaps for some." She recalled how numb and listless she'd been, how ill-prepared for the ambush she was. If her brother had sent her to an active war zone instead, she might well have died.
He sat against a pillar near her bed, skin in hand. He took a swig before passing it to her. Thankfully, it was just water.
Whether it was her near-death experience, or the healing herbs which had her feeling warm inside, or simply because she was talking to someone she was confident she would never see again, she found herself talking about things she'd only told her brother.
"Until a week ago, I was to become life mates with a warrior, Mokram. He was strong, good with battle tactics, and his family bred wolves. Everyone said it was a good match." She stared up at the pavilion's broken ceiling, appreciating the elf's silence. "His grandmother was a gifted healer. Before the ceremony, she took my hand and...and told me I could never bear children, so I had no place joining her family."
The injustice of it still burned her insides like fire. She hadn't known she was infertile, yet suddenly the man she loved and his entire family treated her as though she'd purposefully kept that secret from them. She tried to explain herself, but the image of his accusing glare was still burned into her mind like a painful brand.
"My brother challenged him to mak'gora, a duel of honor, since he would not uphold his promise to me."
The circle was lit by torches borne by their families, Gisa's on one side and Mokram's on the other. Narasu and Mokram circled each other, axes in hand. Mokram, in a rage, charged first, bellowing at the top of his lungs. He swung hard, but Nara deflected the blow, using the momentum to carry him forward into an answering attack. Mokram barely recovered in time to knock the blow aside with the grip of his axe.
Their blows were fast and vicious, neither gaining ground, until Nara was just a little quicker than Mokram. His axe sank deep into Mokram's neck, sending blood sailing into the evening sky. He fell, but Nara hit him again and again, until Mokram's head lay yards away from his twitching body.
Gisa didn't know how long she screamed. For all the pain and betrayal, she still loved him. A multitude of hands held her back, but she struggled against them, wanting to see him one last time before they took him away.
But she never got to see him again, not even when they burned his body.
"I wanted to say goodbye, but my family would not allow it," she said, her voice having grown quiet over the course of telling the story.
When she didn't continue, the elf asked quietly, "Do you hate your brother?"
The question surprised her. "Of course not. He won the duel fairly."
"But he killed your love."
"He cast me aside," Gisa said bitterly. "If Nara had not done it, I might have challenged him myself in my distress. Things...would be different." Deep in her heart, she knew she would be dead. She owed her brother her life.
They were silent for so long, Gisa thought the elf might have fallen asleep. Suddenly, he asked, "What is your name?"
"Gisa. Kragisa."
"I am Taldien." He stretched and settled back against his pillar. "Now, get some sleep. If we're lucky, you may be able to walk steadily tomorrow."
"Gisa? Wake up, you're having a bad dream."
She was wrapped up in her sleeping furs, safe and warm. Mokram was curled against her, stroking her side with one of his large, calloused hands. Gisa inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of him and the smells of their modest hut in Durotar. Their fire had burned down to embers, but they were still plenty warm in bed together.
"I dreamed you were dead," she murmured sleepily into his chest. He smelled like sweat, leather, and smoke.
"Oh?" He sounded amused. One of his large, calloused fingers traced shapes down her bare side, making her shiver. "What killed me?"
Closing her eyes to remember better, Gisa frowned. "My brother. Nara...challenged you."
His chuckle was deep and soft. "My love, as much as I respect your brother, he would not defeat me." His arm snaked around her, squeezing her gently to him.
Gisa tried to smile, but something inside her tugged at her heart. To her shame, tears seeped from her tightly shut eyes as she buried her face in Mokram's chest. The dream had been so vivid, she could have sworn it was real. She felt her lover's grip relax, and she opened her eyes to peek up at his sleeping face. Instead, she saw his open neck spurting blood into their sleeping furs.
She awoke with a start. It was still dark, but she could tell it would be dawn soon. Nearby, she heard the elf's slow, sleeping breaths. Feeling the need to move, she pushed herself carefully into a sitting position, testing each of her limbs before she put weight on them. Unsteadily, she got to her feet and hobbled to the edge of the pavilion. There, she found a large chunk of fallen marble, big enough for her to sit on. She eased onto it, letting her feet dangle off the edge of the cliff.
As she stared out over the horizon, watching the churning sea, she tried to keep her thoughts away from Mokram. His scent had been so real, his voice so clear, that she could have fooled herself that it had actually happened. But then, the images of her brother holding his head up by the hair with no body attached invaded her mind. She was torn between weeping and wanting to fight something.
The very edge of the sky turned the palest pink when she heard movement behind her. At that moment, she didn't care if it was the elf or someone there to kill her. She was too sore, body and soul, to save herself.
The horizon was bright with the pre-sunrise glow when Taldien sat beside her. "Here," he said quietly, handing her a wooden cup full of steaming liquid. "Tea."
Gisa made a face, but drank it down anyway. The warm liquid settled in her stomach, then sent tiny vines of warmth through her body, easing the ache in all but her heart. The physical relief made that other pain so much more evident, so much more unbearable. As she warred with her emotions and struggled to keep hot tears from spilling down her cheeks, the elf wisely kept his eyes on the horizon and his hands to himself. Perhaps he knew that if he tried to put a comforting arm around her, she would have thrown him off the cliff.
As the edge of the sun peeked over the cresting waves, Taldien gave a little shiver and stretched his arms over his head, reminding Gisa of a cat preparing for a nap in the sun. "I'm going to get something together for breakfast. Can you manage on your own for a while?" She nodded once, and he padded out of the pavilion, leaving her to nurse her sore heart in peace.
When he returned nearly an hour later, his footsteps were heavier, louder. Immediately, Gisa felt annoyance rise within her. Didn't he know how obnoxiously loud he was? Couldn't he tell how much she needed the quiet right now? But something wasn't right. It wasn't the footsteps of an elf spy she heard, but the many footfalls of multiple sets of hooves.
They weren't yet in view, but they were coming up the uneven stone path leading to her hiding spot. She scrambled off her marble seat, and in her haste, her wooden cup went clattering across the floor.
"Did you hear that?"
"Someone's in there. Let's go!"
Spitting every curse word she knew, Gisa steadied herself and took mental stock of her condition. She had no weapons or armor and wore only her bloodied leather pants, bandages wrapped around most of her torso, and the lion's tooth around her neck. Her arms and one leg were still sore, but seemed to be holding up well enough. Her ribs twinged in pain with each breath, but that was bearable. If she had to fight, she would need to keep them at a distance. One good blow could easily re-break her tender bones.
Reaching inside herself, she found the wellspring of power she'd inherited from her mother. At her mental touch, it rose like a snake preparing to strike, filling her with energy that hummed through her veins. She shaped the power, weaving it into physical form, forcing the lighting that sparked from her hands to encircle her in a protective barrier. Then, as the first centaur stepped into view, she reached another tendril of her power into the mountain below the pavilion. The spirits of the earth responded to her call, shifting stone to crack through the marble floor.
The centaur let out a shout and charged forward, spear aloft. Gisa wrapped her power around a boulder that had risen and hurled it at him, crushing him and two others in its path. She heard more shouting, then felt the wind pick up into a gale around her.
Spellcasters, she thought bitterly, squinting against the sudden windstorm. Dust and dirt flew around the pavilion, coating her and everything else in a layer of grime. Calling on the spirits of the air, she countered the spell in a little area around herself so she could breathe. Then, she called on the spirits of water, and called for the sea to rise to her. It came in a funnel, crashing through the pavilion and sweeping her up in its current. She was carried out of the pavilion and down the path, along with the three dead centaurs and four live ones.
As the spellcasters were swept away, their spells faltered and died. Gisa saw the centaurs scrabbling for their weapons, their eyes rolling with fear and rage in their broad, flat faces. She herself banged painfully against the jagged stones of the ruined path and found herself breathless. The flow of water subsided, and while she struggled to get up on her hands and knees, the centaurs were quicker to recover.
The nearest one, a male with a wicked-looking scimitar, charged at her, stumbling a little on the wet stone. Gisa infused the water around her with the lightning from her shield, sending sparks rippling across its surface. The centaur couldn't stop before crashing into the electrified water, and immediately he was stiff and convulsing on the ground, his eyes bulging.
A roar echoed over the stones as a bear charged into the fray. He tackled one of the spellcasters and tore into her flesh as she screamed and tried to blast him off with wind magic. Another spellcaster turned her attention on him, but before she could utter more than a word, a stone hand surged up from the ground and crushed her.
The last centaur managed to grab Gisa and twisted her arms painfully behind her. The lightning had dispersed from the water around her, leaving her vulnerable. The bear looked up from his fresh kill, blood soaking his muzzle, and stared at the last centaur.
"She comes with me!" the centaur roared. He stank of old meat and horse dung, and if he managed to kidnap her, he would almost certainly rape her. Gisa felt rage unfurling within her. She would not be made a damsel in distress, and she would certainly not be a centaur's broodmare. Seizing the power within her, she channeled the spirits of fire through her, and forced her magic into the centaur behind her. She heard his scream, felt him release her, and smelled the burning hair and flesh.
Without bothering to watch the progress of the dying centaur, Gisa looked down at the bear as he came ambling up to her. His body rippled and shuddered, and then Taldien was looking down at her, his handsome face smeared with blood as if he'd gone face-first into a cherry pie.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, and there was something odd in his voice.
Gisa looked around at the small pools of water left over from her attack. She called the water to her, let it cover her like a second skin, then infused it with her magic. The healing waters seeped into her, easing the worst of her hurts. When she was done, she returned the elf's gaze, wondering what had changed between them. "No."
After they each had a chance to wash in the sea, Taldien suggested they relocate their camp.
"You're well enough for us to move," he explained as he rolled up the single bedroll. "We'll travel down the coast until we get in view of Shadowprey. I'll leave you there."
She couldn't argue with that, so Gisa helped pack and then they were walking along the beach. Since he hadn't been able to procure anything for breakfast, Taldien shared some dried meat he had.
"You're quite powerful," he said after a long silence.
"What?" Gisa's mind had been miles away.
"You're strong. I've never seen anyone pull the sea up like that."
If they were lucky, he wouldn't have to see it again. "I inherited my power from my mother. She was the strongest shaman in her clan in living memory. She died giving me birth, and the elders said she passed her strength on to me with her last breath."
"That's very sad. I'm sorry."
This baffled her. "Why? I am honored by her sacrifice."
"Don't you miss your mother?"
"I never knew her. How could I miss her?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his mouth quirk up in a smirk. "At times, I think we are very similar, but then you say something to remind me how different we are."
"I won't hold it against you," she told him drily. "Though, you'd better find us someplace to shelter. I smell a storm rolling in."
He frowned and sniffed the air. "I don't smell anything."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Trust me."
Within the hour, they found a cave and were setting up a fire when the first raindrops fell. By the time the fire was in full blaze, the storm was in full fury.
"I consider myself humbled," the elf said gravely, and gave her a little bow from his seated position. She almost didn't notice the gleam of humor in his eyes.
"Stop it," she told him with mock sternness, and punched his shoulder. He went sprawling across the cave floor, much to her amusement.
He lay on his back for a few moments, staring up at the cave ceiling as he rubbed his shoulder. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better."
Try as she might, she couldn't quite determine his tone. Did he simply mean he was glad to see she was strong enough to punch him so hard? Or that she was able to smile and laugh a little? She watched him as he sat back up and regarded her from across the fire.
On a whim, she asked, "Have you loved before?"
Instead of scoffing at her, he took time to consider her question. "I think I have," he answered finally. "She was a priestess. We were together for perhaps thirty years before she decided her heart belonged entirely to Elune."
The insult Gisa had prepared died on her tongue. She had almost told him how she'd fight anyone who did that to her, but she hadn't been able to fight Mokram when he'd insulted her just as deeply. Taldien misinterpreted her expression and waved a hand. "Don't. It was a long time ago."
Instead of explaining where her mind had actually been, Gisa simply nodded. "It's never easy, is it?"
His smile was gentle and genuine. "No, it never is."
Her heart did the tiniest flip. No, she told herself. No, not an elf. Weak, emotion-driven, handsome, strong, kind… She didn't realize she was staring at him until he shifted to sit nearer to her.
Before she could think, before her brain and her pride took control, she was on him. She straddled his lap, facing him, her fingers on either side of his face, tangling in his long, silky hair. His hands gripped her hips, holding her tightly to him, his touch firm yet gentle. Their kiss was fierce, their tongues dueling. He explored her mouth, feeling her tusks, and allowing her to feel his sharp fangs in return.
He had her on her back before she realized what was happening. They hadn't put out the bed roll yet, so he had her against the bare stone floor. He was careful not to put too much of his weight on her, careful not to injure her, but he was still firm and assertive. Thankful that her fingers were steadier than she felt, she loosened the ties on his jerkin and sent it flying to the other end of the cave. Then, she explored his bare chest, feeling his hardened muscles, tracing the lines of old battle scars.
While she'd worked, he slipped her bandages off her breasts, baring them to the chill cave air. He broke their kiss, and when she opened her mouth to complain, he closed his lips around a nipple and flicked his tongue over it. Her protest became a sharp moan, and her hips bucked up against him involuntarily. He responded with vigor, flicking her with his tongue, and biting down on her just hard enough to make her dig her nails in his back.
When he switched sides, she reached down between them and unfastened his belt, then his pants. When they fell open, she found herself pleasantly surprised at what was waiting for her. She'd thought an elf would be far less endowed than anyone of her own race, but that was not the case with Taldien. When she wrapped her hand around him and stroked, he shivered in delight.
Evidently, he wasn't going to wait much longer. Within a breath, he had them both bare from the waist down, and he settled himself between her legs. Suddenly, he was hesitating. She felt him start to pull away from their furious kissing, but she pulled him back with a breathless, "No!"
He pressed against her, gently at first, but with growing urgency. She pressed her hips up against him in return, her legs hooking around his. At last, he was sliding inside of her and making a low, growling noise in his throat. She growled in return, her nails leaving trails down his back.
They moved in tandem, their bodies fitting together so perfectly, it seemed they were made for each other. Every time he stroked into her, she felt shivers of pleasure tingling down her spine, filling her with a growing urgency. She had no other thought save for more, more, more!
The storm inside her reached a fever pitch, and finally she was arching against him, letting out a mix between a snarl and a moan. She pulsed and squeezed around him, and he swore in some other language before he came undone. At the end, they lay in a panting, quivering heap, his face buried in the crook of her neck.
"Have you ever done that with someone from the Horde?" she asked some time later. They were still naked, curled together in a warm embrace.
"No," he replied with a small smile. "I can't say I've ever had the urge."
"Me neither," she agreed, then yawned. Though he'd done his best not to hurt her, the persistent throb in her ribs told her he wasn't entirely successful. Completely worth it, in her opinion.
"What happens after we part?" he asked after a long, sleepy pause. "Will we be enemies again? Will you not hesitate to kill me if we find ourselves on opposite sides of a battlefield?"
To be honest, Gisa hadn't thought that far ahead. At most, she'd thought they might have to spend the night in the cave and they might have to venture out into the storm to find dinner. Parting from Taldien hadn't yet crossed her mind, and the idea of it made her feel cold all the way through. He had a warm energy that seeped into her core and eased the pain in her broken heart. For the first time, it seemed possible for her to heal.
Once he was gone, she would be left to face the world alone once again. Even if they never crossed paths for the rest of her life, she knew she could never forget him. He had helped her where no one else could.
"I would not fight you," she said softly. "Could not."
He squeezed her in a gentle one-armed hug. "I hope the opportunity never presents itself."
Leaning up, she found his lips with hers. Instead of the intense, passion-driven kisses from before, this was a gentle kiss, full of promise and meaning. As the fire in the pit of her belly grew, Gisa climbed on top of him, straddling him, deepening their kiss. Within moments, she felt his renewed arousal and grinned down at him.
"You're quite the tiger," she murmured, reaching between them to stroke him.
"Mmm, you have no idea," he murmured back, his voice nearly a growl.
She guided him into her, then braced her hands on his shoulders. Taldien shifted into a sitting position, his hands gripping her hips, both steadying her and helping her as she started moving. Their bodies moved together, their combined noises of pleasure filling the small cave. His lips found the sensitive spots on her neck, his teeth grazing against her skin with just enough force to make her gasp and shiver. In that moment, she was completely his, body and soul; and when his climax sent him rocketing into oblivion, she knew he was hers, too.
He held her to him as he panted and trembled, his lips still at her neck. Just as she was about to pull away, he shifted, his hand slipping between them. His deft fingers found her sensitive nub, and within moments he had her rocking and shuddering atop him as her own climax took her.
The storm raged until the next morning, but Gisa wasn't at all dismayed at the delay. The night was spent sleeping next to Taldien, interspersed with more bouts of pleasure. They fit together so perfectly, so completely, that she felt almost incomplete when they were not joined.
She would have seriously considered staying there with him, running away from all her pain, had it not been for the thought of her brother searching for her. For Taldien's sake, she couldn't risk him finding them together. So, when dawn came and the elf's lips were at her ear telling her it was time to go, she didn't protest.
"Wait," she said, just before they exited the cave. "I want you to have this. It's from my first hunt. My father cut this tooth from the lion I killed." She lifted the leather thong from around her neck and presented it to him. Suddenly, it seemed so childish. She nearly rescinded the offer when he reached out, took the necklace, and fitted it around his own neck. It settled below his leather jerkin, hidden from sight but close to his heart.
"I shall remember you when I wear it," he told her, stroking her cheek with a gentle hand.
How did he know exactly what to say to make her feel better? Instead of responding, she leaned up and kissed him.
By midday, they were within view of Shadowprey Village and Gisa was full of dread. This was the moment of their parting, and they would likely never see each other again. Hidden from the village's view behind a cliff, she looked up at Taldien, her eyes full of longing.
"I'm sorry," he told her gently. "You and I both have people waiting for us."
It couldn't have lasted forever. Logically, she knew that.
"Go on," he said, stepping back. "I'll watch and make sure you get there safely."
Before she could say anything embarrassing, she turned away from him and walked purposefully towards the troll village. She didn't look back, not until she passed the first brazier that marked the village's official border. Then, she turned around and searched the landscape behind her. Up on the cliff they'd hidden behind before, she saw a bear watching her. As she looked, he turned and left.
"We been lookin' for ya," said a voice behind her. She turned to find a pair of trolls approaching her.
"Here I am," she replied ambiguously. The trolls, after taking in her bandaged torso, limping gait, and bruised arms, decided not to probe further.
That night, as she was settled in a hammock to sleep, Gisa stared out over the sea. Her arm was still sore from her new tattoo, but the blood-red bear paw print near her shoulder made her feel better whenever she looked at it. She would be alright, she knew. She was going to make it.