cool waves wash over and drift away with dreams of youth
so time is stolen; I cannot hold you long enough
"What will you name it?" asks Yuan finally, staring at Raine's swollen belly.
Seven years ago, he requested that the Heroes of Regeneration refrain from bringing their children to visit, because that was the year he realized that one of his former companions is a grandfather, and that his grandson bears his name. He insists even to himself that it's for my safety's sake, to keep me hidden from the outside world until I grow stronger. But if that were so, he would not be just as shaken by the presence of an unborn child.
Yuan does not ask out of curiosity, since discussing children leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Rather, he asks because he would prefer to get all talk of family out of the way as soon as possible. He was jolted out of his dreams of descendants the evening his fiancée was killed, and by and by, he forced himself to forget them entirely. Reminders that others have realized the visions he has long since abandoned are unwelcome, and—more often than not—painful.
Raine can see that Yuan doesn't care, but it's so unusual for him to ask her any questions that she answers anyway. "If it's a girl, she'll be Alicia Grace," she says, scrutinizing his countenance. "But her cousin might also be named Alicia, so I'm almost hoping for a son, if only to avoid the confusion." Raine gives a somewhat strained laugh. "I had enough practice raising Genis, anyway."
…Alone. Yuan hears the hesitation in her voice, the unspoken addendum, and remembers a different half-elven girl also forced into the role of single mother, siblings like a parent and child. Had she ever fallen pregnant, he could never have left her to wander the world like that again. "And… you came here by yourself?" he asks disbelievingly, after a brief but awkward pause.
"Inasmuch as I can be by myself in my current condition, yes," says Raine, dryly humorous, but she already thinks she knows why he asks. Everyone else is concerned for her as well, since she's into her tenth month, but according to some Tethe'allan studies, gestation takes somewhat longer when elven blood is involved. Still, she doesn't know any other half-elves carrying a human's child, so she has only her research to assure her that nothing is wrong.
"There's no need for me to confine myself to the house just yet," Raine continues finally, her voice edged with a somewhat exasperated sigh. "I don't intend to stay here long, at any rate, so I should be fine—and I value our conversations, even if you don't." She gives Yuan the ghost of a smile as he narrows his eyes, but cannot keep a note of doubt out of her voice. "I can still take care of myself for now."
More than a small part of Raine wonders if that's true, and it shows. Though she has matured at a human rate, her aging has already slowed, but by elven standards, she's hardly more than an infant herself. Peeking out from behind the ever-present veil in her eyes is the little girl who raised her brother from infancy, distrustful and afraid of change. Is she moving too quickly by continuing to live at a human pace?
Yuan crosses his arms, unconvinced. "You'll be able to have children for several more centuries," he says matter-of-factly, and she almost flinches as he hits the mark on his first try. Eight hundred years of double agency have lent him an uncanny ability to read people at a glance, putting her natural intuition to shame. "You might have considered waiting awhile."
Raine rests a protective hand on her belly, as she has come to do when angry. Yuan's dismissive disapproval convinces her, more than anything else ever could, that she is doing the right thing after all. "I didn't conceive a child merely for the sake of reproduction, Yuan," she says sharply. "Hardly anyone does, these days. Surely you haven't forgotten what it's like to love someone?"
Yuan inclines his head, more in grief than thought. "I can't," he says, but the negative feels slippery as a lie on his tongue. It used to be true, at least, but lately, he's grown weary enough of existence that he barely remembers how to feel anything anymore. "But I have never loved a human." It's different, he thinks, struggling to find himself superior. It must be.
"Would you have loved Martel if she had been human?"
Raine doesn't mean to speak aloud, but there's no taking back the words now; she raises her fingers to her lips, too late. Yuan jerks his head aside as though she slapped him, his brow twitching into a scowl, and tries not to snap at her. It doesn't work. "If Martel had been human, Mithos might have been human as well," he says shortly, "and the last four thousand years would have been very different."
Even as he speaks, Raine shakes her head, aggravated by her own unforgivable intrusiveness: her love has granted her a newfound empathy for his loss. "I'm sorry," she says, sincerely. "Please… forget I asked."
Either she cannot meet his gaze or he cannot meet hers, so Yuan spares them both by turning his back on her. He does not owe her an answer. Raine shifts in place uncomfortably, understanding that she has crossed the line much more quickly than usual. They have clearly reached the end of their rendezvous. All that remains is for her to get back in her Rheaird and go.
Yuan intends to stand there until she leaves, but Raine's question burns in his mind like unspilt tears, and he lets out a long sigh. There will be no peace until he answers. "Yes, I think I still would have loved her," he says eventually, quietly, his voice barely above a breath carried over on the breeze. "But… I don't think I ever could have told her so."
Such is Raine's surprise that Yuan responded at all that she finds herself at a loss for words. "I see," she says slowly, hesitantly.
"No, you don't," says Yuan, chuckling humorlessly, and turns to face her once more. She bows her head; he's right, of course. It almost makes sense, but not quite. Not yet. "Safe journey, Raine," he adds, striding forward to help her forcibly into her Rheaird—his chivalry rusty after millennia of disuse. "Someday soon, you'll understand."