32: Caithe

The Grove was still subdued when he arrived, much of the natural luminescence from the Mother Tree that had illuminated the village among her roots not currently gleaming. He'd sent word ahead to the Menders to ask for an audience, and Cathaoir met him at the gate to the Grove. "Mother has been fading in and out of awareness, the Menders say. But she said she was able to protect the Dream from the assault."

"Oh dear," Caoilfhionn said. "That is good, but I fear for another attack."

"So do we all. You should see the Wardens stationed in the upper boughs, watching for that creature to return." He put a hand on Caoilfhionn's shoulder. "Do not be afraid for Mother – at least, not anymore than her current state warrants. She will be protected from future attacks."

"Thank you all," Caoilfhionn said. "But I suppose I will have to wait for an audience."

"Yes, though I understand you're to be allowed in the first time she feels well. Your quest must be special indeed."

"It is, though slowly am I beginning to understand it… Oh, I should let you know that Eithne and Ruadhan are well, and making themselves of great use."

Cathaoir smiled. "That is good to hear. They are very brave, to join your Pact. I should have liked to myself, but I felt myself called more to defend the Mother Tree. But my thoughts go with you as you journey to slay Mordremoth."

"Thank you, Brother."

"No, thank you, Brother. Ah, here comes Mender Aine – perhaps your wait will be brief indeed."

Mender Aine greeted him courteously and brought him to the Omphalos Chamber. The light was still dim, but soothing now. The Pale Tree's avatar lay on the ground as if in sleep, but as Caoilfhionn approached and knelt beside her, she sat up with Aine's help. "Good. I was hoping to see you soon. The vision… have you made any progress… with it?"

"I believe so," Caoilfhionn said. "I found the egg, but-"

The Pale Tree breathed a sigh. "What a relief. You may have just saved Tyria. The struggle is far from over, but if you had failed to find and protect the egg, it would have been over before it began."

Caoilfhionn looked away uncomfortably. "But… Caithe has the egg in her custody. Do you know where she might have gone?"

She frowned. "Caithe has the egg? Why? You, you're the one who must care for it. Not Caithe. That's why I gave you the vision."

"I know, but for some reason I don't understand, she ran off with it."

"Oh." He had never seen his Mother so blank, but she had so little energy to respond with. "Well, you must find her. I can help, but my powers in this regard are… limited."

"What can we do?"

"Maybe if you knew… more about her past. I can give you memory seeds. They will… allow you to search her memories for places that are significant… to her."

Caoilfhionn's eyes widened. Those were not lightly given. "Mother, I… thank you."

"Aine, if you please…"

"Rest, Mother," Caoilfhionn said. "Thank you very much. I'll fulfill this quest, I swear it."

He rose, putting three of the seeds in his jacket, cradling the fourth in his hands, following the soft pull on his mind. He'd never used them before, but he knew what to do – the Dream told him. He approached Ventari's Tablet, and nodded to it. "Where life goes, so too, must you," he murmured softly, and bent to plant the seed.

He woke again and by the angle of the sun, he had been in the memory for some time. Mender Aine was beside him. "How do you feel?"

"I feel… fine," he said. "I saw the youth of the Sylvari – when the Secondborn had just Awoken." He had seen Trahearne, looking exactly the same as he yet did, heard Caithe tease him for thinking too much. Some things never changed. He'd seen Faolain, eager and impetuous but not sinister, in love with Caithe as Caithe loved her. He'd even seen Ceara, already tinkering with Asura trash, a glow of fascination in her eyes.

"A long time ago to you, and a short time to us, but time is relative," Aine said. "Do you know where to go next? I dare not inquire into your quest too closely."

Right, his quest was supposed to be a secret – except from Hope's Legacy and Destiny's Edge. "I do. I think. I'm going to call on my guild for help, I don't think it would be a good idea to use these without someone to watch over my body."

"I think that would be wise," Aine said, helping him to his feet. "May Ventari guide you."

"Thank you, Mender Aine. May Mother's recovery be swift."

The core of Hope's Legacy – Annhilda, Damara, Phiadi, and Rhyoll – were needed still in the Silverwastes, defending the outposts and leading attacks on the Vinewrath monster that lurked on the edge of the jungle, and Braham, Rox, and Kasmeer stayed with them and Destiny's Edge, but Wegaff and Marjory came with him to watch over him when he went to Metrica to plant the next seed.

When he woke, he had tears in his eyes. He sat up abruptly, shaking, crying with anger. "H-how could…"

"What's wrong?" Marjory asked, kneeling beside him. "What did you see?"

"I… the Secondborn…" He clenched his fists and took a deep breath. "Some Asura kidnapped some Secondborn and did horrible things to them. They experimented on them until they died."

"That's terrible," Marjory said. "Was it Inquest?"

"It wasn't even Inquest! It was… It was Vorpp. And if I see him again I will kill him."

Wegaff was doing an awkward shuffle. "Well… you're not supposed to test your subjects to death, but some Asura are like that…"

Caoilfhionn glared even at him, one of his oldest friends. "They were begging for mercy and received none! Even if those Asura had thought them naught more than sentient plants, surely their speech should have shown them to be thinking, feeling beings! …Even you, when we met, you wanted to study me!"

Wegaff stumbled back a pace. "W-w-wait, hold on, now, I knew Sylvari were people! I just wanted to check your concentration of magical energy – readings you were happy enough to participate in!"

Caoilfhionn dragged himself to his feet and angrily wiped the tears from his face, though more flowed to replace them. "Perhaps you are an exception… but many of your people are very cruel. …I no longer blame Canach for seeking such violent revenge on that Consortium director. He was there, too, one of the victims."

Marjory stepped into his field of vision, her gaze anxious. "Hey. I get it. But it's long past. Take some deep breaths and try to calm down. Do you know where we're going next?"

Caoilfhionn breathed out and bowed his head. But she had not seen it before her as if living it. "Yes. To the Silverwastes, to a centaur village."

"Hm. I haven't heard about any centaurs living out there."

"Then we will have to find where one used to be."

"Caoilfhionn," Wegaff said to his back. "I'm not going to apologize on behalf of my people. It was twenty-five years ago and I wasn't born yet. But I'm not going to make excuses for them either. I'm… sorry you were… er… hurt by this."

Funnily enough, that helped. "Thank you, Wegaff."

They made it back to Camp Resolve several days later, and Caoilfhionn was still emotionally exhausted, going straight to Trahearne's tent and brooding into a pillow rather than going to find his lover immediately as he might normally. It was well dark before Trahearne himself came in, stopping short in surprise in the opening. "Caoilfhionn! What are you- Oh dear." Caoilfhionn had turned to look at him, and he supposed his eyes were still yellow-rimmed and tragic in the candlelight. Trahearne crossed the tent and sat next to him swiftly. "What's wrong, beloved?"

Caoilfhionn sat up and crawled into his welcoming embrace. "Mother gave me memory seeds for Caithe… I think the thread through them is Faolain's obsession with Wynne, but the second memory was so horrible…"

"Hm." Trahearne held him tighter. "I remember a little of that. Faolain was gracious enough to leave me out of it."

"I saw you, in the first memory. You were just as beautiful then as you are now…"

Trahearne exhaled an almost-laugh. "I was just as boring then as I am now."

"You're not boring! I love you."

"Thank you, beloved. But what did you see after that?"

"Some Asura kidnapped some Secondborn and tortured them to death." He inhaled, and then the words came tumbling out without stopping, luminescence surging with emotion. "They didn't even think they were people, they called them 'creatures' and kept them naked in cages, and inflicted pain upon them mercilessly even when they were pleading for their lives… And they gloated over it! Caithe and Faolain went to rescue them. But the one who did it escaped. I've met him, without knowing what he'd done. He's still horrible. If I meet him again…"

Trahearne sighed, lost in thought. "Yes, I remember. It was the second time they'd done that – and the last, thank the stars. Niamh and I were assembling a group to follow them, though I was afraid to lose yet more newborns, but by the time we were halfway to Metrica, Caithe and Faolain were returning with the survivors already. But we lost so many…" Trahearne's grip tightened yet more, this time not for comfort. "I was so angry. As angry as when they'd taken my brother Malomedies. I wanted to kill them, as many as I could, to get revenge for all the meaningless pain they'd inflicted upon us." He shuddered, and Caoilfhionn felt that he was holding back still.

"But you didn't."

"Mother said not to – that we would need their help to fight the dragons. So I swallowed my rage. And it has paid off – we would not be where we are today if we had begun an equally meaningless war with our closest neighbours."

Caoilfhionn sighed long, letting out his anger and frustration into Trahearne's narrow chest, and Trahearne relaxed around him too. "You are right. But I do not like Asura as much as I did before. And I was none too fond of them before, Wegaff and Phiadi excluded…"

"I understand." Trahearne stroked his back, his leaves, pressed a kiss to his forehead. "It will pass as you remember your friends among them. They are not evil."

"Most of them."

"Most of them," conceded Trahearne. "I will readily admit the Inquest are unapologetically evil, and the Arcane Council certainly knows how to drop bugs in everyone's breakfast. But the rest are quite decent. If varying degrees of incomprehensible."

"You're right," Caoilfhionn said, with another sigh. "But thank you for understanding."

"I understand all too well," Trahearne said sadly. "I wish this could have been kept from you. I don't like to see you upset this way – by something so long past, especially."

"I'll recover," Caoilfhionn said, making a wan smile. "I'm only three-and-a-half, after all."

"Such a sprout you are," said the twenty-eight year old eldest of the Firstborn, and kissed him.

The third memory led him out to the North Silverwastes, even more north than anyone had been before. It was infested with giant beetles, but this time, Damara joined the party – Trahearne did not like the idea of Caoilfhionn unconscious and underdefended so close to Mordrem territory. He explained to her on the way, and she asked many questions about the memory seeds. Humans were so disconnected from each other. He felt a little sorry for them – for all of them, not just Humans.

He woke up weeping again, and did not even open his eyes. The righteous fury he'd felt after the previous vision was nowhere to be found, only incredible grief and disappointment, shame and sympathy, an almost physical pain in his soul.

"What did you see?" Damara asked, and put her arms about him. "Oh no. Are you going to be okay?" Her jungle stalker rubbed its head and body against him, purring, trying to soothe him.

He shook his head. He had no breath except to weep, for the shame of what he had seen was overwhelming him. "Faolain… Faolain and Cadeyrn murdered all the centaurs. And Caithe helped." He sobbed. "It was dreadful. So many dead…"

"And what about Wynne?" Marjory asked.

"She ran away in grief, and rightly so… into a cave near here. Ah, Faolain tried to tell her it was her own fault! How despicable can she be!?" And to hear her call the centaurs 'animals', when not long ago she had been enraged by her own people being called 'creatures' – she had no awareness, did she?

"Gaslighting bookah," said Wegaff. Caoilfhionn didn't know exactly what he meant by that, but it seemed accurate.

"Gods. I'm sorry you had to see that," Damara said, and Caoilfhionn cried harder, her sympathy enabling him. It was just so… painful to see someone he looked up to, doing something so wicked and wrong! How could Caithe do such a thing without trying to stop it? And what would he have done in that situation? Could he have stopped it?

Such thoughts were unhelpful, and he struggled to bring his emotions under control.

"You said she ran into a cave?" Marjory asked. "Can you show us?"

"I think so." He tried to wipe his eyes and got up unsteadily. "Just down this canyon and to the left…" They followed him. The land had not changed much in the intervening twenty-five years, and the cave was easy to find. The back wall of it had a strange symbol carved all over it. "Wynne somehow activated this symbol and passed through."

Wegaff went up and touched the stone. "Feels solid enough… let's get some energy readings here."

"I'll make a sketch of that," Marjory said, pulling out a notepad and a paper-wrapped charcoal stick. "I haven't seen anything like it before, but perhaps there will be something at the Priory."

Caoilfhionn grimaced. They didn't have time to go all the way to the Priory and back. But they didn't have much choice, either.

"Hmm…" Wegaff was muttering to himself. "Did your Wynne have a key of any sort?"

"I was too far back to see," Caoilfhionn said. "I suppose it's possible."

"Yes… yes… All right. I'll come with you and Marjory to the Priory. I think, between the three of us, we can crack this puzzle open. You have to get in there, yes?"

Caoilfhionn touched the last seed inside his coat. "Yes. I must see the end of this tale."

Trahearne, of course, noticed the moment he saw him, in his tent again. "Another painful memory, I take it."

"I have decided not to tell you about this one," Caoilfhionn told him. He was stronger this time, not flinging himself into his lover's arms, even though he rather wanted to. But he always wanted to, whether or not he needed comfort, so that was nothing new.

"But you're in pain-"

"I don't want to distract you now," Caoilfhionn said. "We're launching in a few days, and it's… I know you would think about it." And think about it, and think about it – he didn't think Trahearne would lose focus, but this was a burden he didn't need right now.

Trahearne frowned. "I'm going to worry about you anyway, you realize."

"Better that than this," Caoilfhionn said. "At least you know where I am."

"Very cryptic," Trahearne said dryly. "Are you learning from me?"

Caoilfhionn managed to laugh. "Am I? Maybe. I promise to tell you afterwards, when we have leisure to let our emotions run more freely."

"Thank you. I will hold you to that."

"As long as you also hold me. Anyway, I cannot get into the place where the last memory is, so I have to go to the Priory for answers."

"We're launching in only a few days."

"I may not have a choice, beloved. This is so important. But you can't delay for me."

"I know. In fact, I'm going to send the rest of your guild with you."

Caoilfhionn blinked wide-eyed at him. "But you need them."

"Just in case. I'll keep an airship back for you to bring you all up quickly…"

"No, those you need even more than Hope's Legacy. Trahearne, you're letting your heart cloud your judgement."

"Hm." Trahearne thought. "I'll think about it more carefully before I decide. And in the meantime, I'll pray that you are able to find your answers and return in time."

"There's a good chance that I will, after all," Caoilfhionn said. "Now… I'm tired. This tale is exhausting."

Trahearne chuckled and stroked his leaves. "Get some rest, my prince. Your knight will guard you." Caoilfhionn laughed and laid his head down.

Caoilfhionn appeared beneath the Camp Resolve waypoint, a little out of breath from having travelled all the way from the Durmand Priory in one go. He'd gone with Marjory and Wegaff, and with Ogden Stonehealer's help, found an answer to the door's riddle in what Caoilfhionn thought must be record time. They'd been gifted with a magical torch that burned cold with white fire, a memory of the Forgotten who had apparently carved the rune. And now they were back, just in time. The fleet was going to launch the day after tomorrow, if Caoilfhionn had kept track of the days right. While he was at the Priory, he'd overheard several novices chattering excitedly about the new look of Lion's Arch – but he had no time to visit now. It would have to wait.

He walked up to the two guilds standing about chatting in the middle of camp, Marjory and Wegaff following him. Marjory bore the torch for now. Annhilda waved them over, and Logan Thackeray turned to him with a big smile. "You all made it. Great. We've just been introduced to this young Norn here. He, apparently, is Eir's son – a fact I didn't know when I first met him."

"I… I saw no point in mentioning it," Eir said awkwardly. "Braham was raised by his father."

"Braham has made quite a legend for himself," Annhilda said. "You should be proud."

Braham saluted them, equally awkwardly. "It's my great honour to meet you all. I've heard stories of your deeds since I was young."

"What's that?" Zojja asked, pointing at the torch. "Looks… arcane."

"It is," Marjory said. "A torch of divine fire, to light the Forgotten runes."

"Poetry doesn't explain much," Zojja said.

"Oddly, I was being quite literal," Marjory said.

"Shall we head out, then?" Annhilda asked Hope's Legacy.

Caoilfhionn started. "This instant? But it's evening…"

"Good time to travel, in this environment. Trahearne's called us all off active duty so we could assist you as soon as you got back. We're all ready to go."

"I'd like something to eat first," Caoilfhionn said. "We've been buried in Special Collections for the last three days and food was not a priority."

"Acceptable," Annhilda said. "Damara, can you rustle that up?"

Damara waved and ran off, and Logan turned to them with an air of curiosity. "So really, what is the torch for? Is it something to do with the thing you were talking about before? You know… the… the egg?"

"Yes," Caoilfhionn said. "You still haven't heard from Caithe?"

"No, not at all," Zojja said. "Don't be too angry with her. She's independent and stubborn."

Caoilfhionn cast a skeptical eye on Zojja, who he considered to be so twice as much as Caithe, but moving on… "Caithe is one of us," Eir assured them. "She's saved all our lives at least once. I don't think you have to worry. She's just… rash."

"Ah, she's not the only one," Annhilda said indulgently. "But it is rather bothersome that she's leading us about on this goose chase when we're about to launch our greatest attack yet."

"Yes, I-" Logan began, when there was a cry from the south gate.

"We're under attack!"

"Blast it," Rhyoll grumbled. "Why now?"

"Stations, everyone!" Trahearne cried from behind them in the Seraph camp, running out to join them, Caladbolg shining in his grasp. "Hello, Caoilfhionn."

"Hello, Trahearne!" His hunger and weariness were forgotten; adrenaline flooded his body as he ran with his lover to the south gate to fight the Mordrem surging against the cannons there. There were so many! Even with the cannons, with the archers and musketeers on the low wall, the Mordrem came up as fast as they fell, coming on so swiftly – and there were vines behind the wall! He blew a breath of fire across the ground, and many of the shorter vines withered and shrivelled in the flames – but more came. How could one fight an enemy that continuously replenished itself thus!?

Trahearne observed them coolly, then looked to an Asura nearby. "Tell the fleet to ready an air strike."

"On our own camp!?" gasped the Asura.

"As a measure of last resort – but we must be prepared."

"Yes, sir!" The Asura scampered off.

Not a minute later, the charging Mordrem husks were at the wall, pounding on it, forcing the archers and musketeers back from the edge. The mages were picking up the weight, elementalists and mesmers and necromancers blasting arcane death indiscriminately into the seething torrent of living vegetative matter. The melee fighters took a staggered formation in front of them, ready to defend with cold steel while allowing space for spells to pass between them.

But then all eyes turned skyward, and the formation broke and scattered as a massive thorny vine plunged from the darkened sky into their midst. As it met the ground, clusters of vines only slightly smaller sprang up about it, tearing the cannons from their housings, rending tents, coiling about unlucky soldiers and strangling or impaling them. The air was filled with screams and creaking sounds. A Charr near Caoilfhion cursed roundly.

"Fall back!" Trahearne cried over the din, somehow keeping his voice steady – Caoilfhionn knew his own would not be – and pointing towards the centre of camp. "Rally to me!"

"The north gate is under attack!" yelled Braham, repeated a moment later by Damara, as an actual Pact officer.

"Annhilda, to the north, push them back! We'll hold them here!"

"Got it, Marshal! Hope's Legacy, move it!"

He followed in her long-legged wake, casting spells of Water as he ran to give his allies some relief before they got there. Things were just as desperate to the north as they had been to the south, though. If they could hold out here, then reinforce the south, they could retake the camp, but that was a big 'if' right now…

"By the Pale Tree," gasped a voice beside him, and he looked to see Eithne, her green eyes wide with uncertainty. She lifted her shortbow, but her hands were shaking. "There are so many!"

"Keep shooting," Caoilfhionn advised her. "Just keep shooting until we prevail." Though it was fully night now, and Caoilfhionn could barely tell friend from foe – especially with the smoke from the guns and cannons and accidental fires, and the gaseous clouds given off by the Mordrem. At least the Mordrem had those ghastly shapes to distinguish them. "I'll protect you."

"I'll not disappoint you," she said; that was all she needed to hear to take heart again, it seemed.

"Incoming!" shouted Rhyoll, and another of those massive vines arced down right onto the gate, shattering it instantly, sending up vines to rip apart the cannons and snake threateningly towards the defenders.

"Fall back to Marshal Trahearne!" Annhilda called. "Defend the armoury!"

The Pact ground forces were pressed into a semicircle in front of the armoury, giving as good as they got, but Caoilfhionn couldn't see an end to the Mordrem. Determination was fading to desperation, hope flickering in his heart… the Mordrem couldn't have unlimited reinforcements, could they?

"Someone grab a flare," Trahearne ordered over the din. "Call in the air strike! Everyone else, get to cover! Get to the cliffs! Protect yourselves and each other!"

"I've got the flare," Phiadi cried, jumping forward, darting around and under the masses of husks. When a wolf got in her way, she sent her minions to tackle it and ran on by. Caoilfhionn found Trahearne grabbing his arm, dragging him north to the shelter of the cliff, blocking a wolf that lunged at them with the flat of Caladbolg's blade. Phiadi's flare went up, a red rocket arcing into the night from the watchtower rock.

The fleet was moving, stooping low over the camp; the belly guns unfurled on the lead ship, and the camp exploded. Not all at once, but south to north, one ship after another, heavy ordnance chewing through the huge vines and tossing the Mordrem units around like rag dolls. Splinters flew everywhere like chaff, and Caoilfhionn covered his head.

Trahearne cheered as the airships passed by and the bombing run ceased, most uncharacteristic of him – but there were no more moving plants in the camp besides Sylvari. The soldiers picked themselves up slowly, looking around at the destruction; even the Charr seemed dumbstruck by what had just happened. The giant vines had withdrawn, and the remains left behind were scattered across the cratered ground – along with not a few Pact bodies. Most of them had been dead before the bombing run and were now extra-dead and blown apart, but perhaps some of them were still alive-! "Medics!" Trahearne shouted. "Anyone who knows anything about first aid, move! Now!"

Caoilfhionn ran out with the others, channelling Water to help. Trahearne was near him, weaving his own healing spells. Ruadhan was already there; this was his calling, his main skill, and he was putting it to use, his gentle hands binding wounds and soothing burns, with a quirky smile and saucy word to keep his patients' spirits up as he did so.

They'd lost so many, yet not as many as they might have. The camp was a grim scene, completely destroyed from one end to the other, though fortunately the armoury and docking stations still stood untouched. They worked hard in the darkness of the night, trying to find everyone who still breathed and take care of them, even if they were not going to be in any shape to fight. And the Asura waypoint had been hit during the attack; they would not be able to use it to move wounded in or out right now.

Trahearne assembled the leadership after half an hour of frantic medical work. "All right, everyone. We got lucky that we were mostly loaded up for launch. We won't get lucky again. I want all the wounded headed east to Ulta Metamagicals and Mrot Boru by sunrise. Don't bother repairing the camp unless something's actively about to explode, finish loading the ships instead. I want a final headcount and complete update at sunrise too."

"Yes, sir!" chorused the officers, and hurried off.

Trahearned turned to Phiadi. "Thank you for getting the flare. You've been invaluable."

"Of course I have," Phiadi said. "But anyone could have done it."

"But you did do it. Now – will you be here for launch?"

"Destiny's Edge absolutely will," Logan said. "It would kill morale if everyone went after Caithe and her burden." Zojja cleared her throat in an exaggerated fashion, and Logan levelled a finger at her. "Don't even start."

"I have to go after Caithe," Caoilfhionn said. "It's my responsibility. And I don't know if I'll find her there. But if anyone would rather be certain of catching the launch, don't let me stop you."

Trahearne took his hand. "Caoilfhionn, you know I can't stand the thought of you being vulnerable in unknown territory. Take your whole guild, if they're willing."

Annhilda gave him a hard look. "Yes, you don't know what you're going to run into out there. Our target is too important to leave to chance. And, the more of us there are, if we do run into trouble, the faster we'll get out of it."

"Yeah, Wolf pack!" Braham cheered. "I'm going."

In the end, almost everyone said they would come with him. Rhyoll did not, saying he'd rather stay with the fleet and keep it in the air.

"Thank you," Caoilfhionn said, bowing to them all. "I am grateful."

"And look," Logan said to him. "Caithe is a linear thinker. She takes everything literally. If she took the egg, it's because she felt it was necessary. She does nothing without a reason."

"Thank you, Logan," Caoilfhionn said. "That's reassuring."

"Then get some rest," Trahearne said. "You'll want to start early tomorrow to have any chance of getting back from the Far Silverwastes before launch hour, especially with the waypoint destroyed."

"And you?" Caoilfhionn asked.

"I'll rest tomorrow," Trahearne said. "I have to shepherd this army through the night. I'll wake you if there's another emergency. Go sleep."

And when Caoilfhionn woke in the ashen grey of dawn, Trahearne was just stumbling into his still-intact tent. "Good morning, beloved."

"Good morning," Trahearne said, his words not quite as precise as usual. Caoilfhionn finished putting on his boots and went to embrace him, his affection stirred by his lover's hard-working weariness.

"Rest well," he said to him with a fond smile. "You've done so much for everyone."

"Mm," Trahearne mumbled, and kissed him. "At least we know that bombing will work as expected on the vines, now. Tuck me in?"

Caoilfhion laughed, and steered him to the cot, where Trahearne sat heavily – and then dragged Caoilfhionn into his lap. "I can't stay long. You know that."

"How are you so energetic with so little sleep?" Trahearne asked.

Caoilfhionn laughed again. "Cycle of Dawn, beloved. I'll be cranky later, but right now it's a new day, and I have important things to do." But it was tempting to stay just a bit longer, to feel Trahearne's arms about him, his warmth against him, his bitter green scent musky with smoke and dust and a tinge of blood. To look into those sleepy yellow eyes, tracing the rougher patches of bark on his face with his thumbs, and kiss those firm lips, just one more time… and perhaps one more time after that…

Trahearne let go of him and lay back; Caoilfhionn got up, and true to his word, covered him with the light blanket and kissed him again. "Sleep well, my knight. I'll see you when I'm back."

"Have a good adventure, my… prince…" Trahearne murmured, and fell asleep in the middle of the next kiss.