Greetings, y'all! I hope you are all well. Here is the second chapter of Voyages; I had a little trouble with Cadvan this time round, he seemed determined to act younger than he does in the books – he seems to want to be the sort of light-hearted, rakish person he was before he knew the true horrors of the Dark, and, after resisting for a while, I thought 'why not?' After all, he has deserved a bit of happiness. So if Cadvan seems a bit OOC, I apologise…I hope you like what I have written, and thank you so much for reviewing!
I really hope I still have that special thing you Pellinorites seem to love...
I don't own Pellinor or any of the characters…*sob*
Chapter Two – A Look Back (I)
It had been possibly the most beautiful day that had ever existed, Maerad thought dreamily, as she trotted down the red clay road in an avenue surrounded on all sides by large willow trees, which drooped over the path, sometimes dropping so low as to brush the top of her head. The air smelled of wet grass and leaves simmered in sunshine, the pungent and unmistakeable scent of spring which permeated all it touched with its refreshing and silent calm. The sun was just touching the horizon, heralding an even more beautiful sunset and even the birds singing were doing so drowsily. A small gurgling brook ran happily alongside the road, a sure sign, Cadvan had said, that they were nearing Lirigon – they would see more springs and rivers before the day was properly out, all leading away from the Lir Lake, which Lirigon was nestled by. He had predicted at lunchtime that they would see Lirigon by the time the sun set.
Maerad sighed as quietly as possible, casting a quick look at her aforementioned neighbour, who trotted alongside her on his black stallion; for once his face was not covered in a hood but open to the spring air, and, despite the scars and lines of exhaustion that still existed around his eyes, she thought she had never seen him so peaceful or happy. He was going home, she realised suddenly. Of course he would be happy. It had been possibly a year, or even more, since he had been home. If it were her returning to her childhood home, she would be overjoyed, to the point of annoying excitableness.
But she had no home, she remembered bitterly. Nowhere to return to. She might have saved the world, but there was nowhere in that world that was a home to her.
She bit her lip, looking back down at Keru's mane and scolding herself for thinking so miserably. She had reason to though, she decided stubbornly. Meeting relatives of Cadvan…
"Nervous?" Cadvan's voice, light and teasing, cut through her thoughts and making her jump. She scowled up at him.
"Of course not."
Cadvan was not put off by her snappy response; instead he smiled mildly, slowed Darsor down to a halt, then, when Keru followed suit, leaned across and cupped her chin in one hand, looking at her intently. Maerad swallowed hard; the sun was setting in the trees just behind Cadvan, creating an orange-gold aura around his head, occasionally dappled with shadow as the leaves moved across the sun in a light breeze, and the amber light was making his blue eyes look even darker, his cheekbones higher, his lips fuller…she felt her heart rate climb to new heights.
"Liar," he said softly to her response, then leaned forward and kissed her.
For a moment Maerad forgot to be nervous and let herself fall into the kiss; it was sweet, sweeter than even the taste of the spring air, and soft, and tender, and she thought, briefly, that she had never felt anything so perfect.
Of course, things so perfect never last forever, she thought regretfully a second later when Cadvan moved away and looked at her inquisitively.
Her nervousness returned with a vengeance.
"What if they don't like me?" she whispered.
Cadvan burst out laughing, the avenue momentarily ringing with the sound.
"Of course they'll like you!"
"But what if they don't?" Maerad insisted, now thoroughly convinced that every one of Cadvan's old friends and relatives was going to hate her on sight and drum her out of the town, probably with pitchforks too, her imagination added wildly.
"Maerad, Maerad, Maerad," Cadvan sighed, and shook his head, still grinning, but stifled it quickly when he saw the now terrified look on her face.
"Of course they will like you."
"They won't."
"Why wouldn't they?"
"Because…" Maerad flailed desperately for a reason, found none, realised that her logic hadn't reached this far and so replied lamely, "Just because…"
"Maerad." Cadvan moved his head so that she was looking at him again. "Even if you hadn't just single-handedly saved the whole of Edil-Amarandh from a darkness even worse than that of the Great Silence, my people would still love you. You are charming, and beautiful, and above all, a true person of the Light. There is nothing they could hate about you." He paused thoughtfully, then added, "Plus you argue with me. My great grand-niece will adore you just for that."
Maerad hesitated, but was not quite pacified.
"And if they decide they don't like me?"
"Then they'll have to answer to me."
Maerad glanced up at Cadvan, who winked solemnly. Despite herself, she found herself smirking sardonically.
"Oh, a truly terrifying thought."
Cadvan beamed.
"That's more like it! Now, if you've finished having your little tantrum, could we continue…?"
Maerad squawked indignantly and raised her hand to thump his arm, but Cadvan was already gone, galloping down the avenue and laughing at her. Maerad laughed too, a little surprised at Cadvan's sudden joy but her panic completely dissipating, and spurred Keru into catching him up.
"I'm going to get you for that, Cadvan of Lirigon!"
The two riders vanished in a cloud of dust and mirth, and, very slowly, the calm breath of spring and song of the birds began to crawl back into the scene. Peace once more tentatively descended her invisible blanket, although not without caution, lest some up-roaring Bards decided to come and disturb it again.
Within an hour, the Bards were in sight of the School of Lirigon. It sat atop a green hill, just above the lake, surrounded by green fields and an amazingly clear river, which twisted around the hill in a horseshoe shape and was accessed by a number of yellow sandstone bridges. The protective walls and the buildings of the School were also made of the same sandstone, and the roofs were of the same dark red clay that the path to Lirigon had been made of; Maerad recalled Cadvan telling her of the good clay around the Lir Lake and realised this was probably what it was. The sun was just falling under the horizon when they arrived, so the whole scene was bathed in a rich amber light. Maerad thought, as she always thought whenever she arrived somewhere new, that she had never seen anywhere so beautiful. She breathed in the sight happily; she may have gone through a year of terrors and hardships for this world, she mused, but this sort of thing reminded her how well worth it each trial had been.
Cadvan smiled over at her.
"Is it not beautiful?"
"Beautiful," she agreed dreamily, staring at the sight. "So beautiful."
Cadvan beamed; apparently this was the right thing to say.
"I'll show you around tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Maerad blinked.
"Yes – for now our path runs this way."
He gestured to a fork in the road, which Maerad saw led through a deeply forested glade to a small clearing, in which she could spot a small house nestled by the river, complete with a rickety millwheel, a pair of ramshackle stables and a small but pretty garden.
They trotted through the glade, Maerad feeling her nervousness double.
"This is – where you lived?"
Cadvan said nothing for a while; Maerad glanced at him and saw that his eyes were glazed over with dreamy remembrance – for the moment he was back in the past and so completely lost to her.
She swallowed, looking down from the house to the reins in her hands. They were shaking slightly; she glared at them until they stopped.
Cadvan stopped and dismounted, Maerad following suit slightly untidily. They stood for a moment, gazing at the house bathed in its peach light.
"Yes," Cadvan said suddenly. "I lived here." He took a half step forward. "The roses are doing well – they're Mari's favourites. And they were my mothers…the clay roof tiles could do with a bit of replacing though – I wonder – "
He took a few more steps forward, rubbing his chin and smiling in a vague sort of way. Maerad hesitated between the two horses, unsure what to do and battling the urge to run as far away as possible.
She glanced around her and spotted the river gurgling peacefully by, and a story of Cadvan's suddenly sprang to mind. She glanced back at Cadvan, to find that he had snapped out of his reverie and was walking back to her, still with a faint trace of the dreamy smile on his face. She smiled back hesitantly and gestured at the river.
"Is this the river where you met the fish?"
"When I first realised I had the Gift?" Cadvan laughed aloud. "Yes, it was! I had almost forgotten…I refused to leave the house for days afterwards, my mother ended up having to find the fish and dragged me outside to talk with it. It was so strange to her…and yet it helped me no end. She was so good at that…"
His face became suddenly withdrawn and haunted again, and Maerad bit her lip, half wishing she had said nothing. Tentatively, she reached forward and took his hand. It was warm and calloused, and her fingers began to stroke his palm before she realised what she was doing.
"Cadvan of Lirigon!" screeched a voice like a crow's. Maerad jumped a mile and let go of Cadvan's hand, and they both turned to see who was screaming at them.
The owner of the shriek was an elderly woman, short and plump and dressed in a simple white shift, who had obviously just exited the house and was now striding through the garden towards them, a rolling pin in her hand and a fierce expression on her birdlike face. Maerad gulped and took a nervous step back, but she was not the object of the woman's rage – the woman marched straight up to Cadvan, thwacked him on the head with the rolling pin and then, as he cringed, bellowed,
"A year and a half! A year and a half, you worthless little – " Cadvan raised his head to protest and she whacked him again. "Sure, sure, run off and fight monsters of the Dark that threaten us all, why don't you? And forget about your family altogether! Very Bardic!"
"I didn't forget – " began Cadvan, but she raised the rolling pin threateningly and he yelped and ducked his head. "I mean, sorry Mari, won't leave it that long again Mari!"
"You had better not!" the little old woman screamed. "Or next time I won't stop at a little rolling pin! All right?"
"All right, all right!" yelled Cadvan, rubbing his head.
The old woman lowered her pin, apparently satisfied for now.
"Good. As long as that is settled. Welcome back."
Cadvan grunted, still massaging his head. The woman switched her gaze suddenly onto Maerad, who had been hovering in the background, torn between alarm at Cadvan being beaten black and blue by an apparent stranger, and mirth at the so-called great Bard being so easily subdued.
"And who are you?" the woman snapped.
Maerad looked into a pair of very blue, very sharp eyes, and swallowed.
"Maerad," she whispered, then added, a little hastily, "ma'am…"
"It's Mari," growled the woman. "Great grand-niece to this lump over here." She elbowed Cadvan in the ribs, apparently not noticing his squeak of pain.
"Oh. Right," whispered Maerad. She took advantage of the small pause that followed to survey the woman more closely; she was tiny, she thought, but plump. Her wiry grey hair was bound in a tight bun to the back of her head, and her face was covered in wrinkles, but Maerad could still see that she had inherited Cadvan's strong jaw and his blue eyes. Somehow, this fact made her even more nervous.
"So you're Maerad of Pellinor, hmm? Great saviour of the world?" Mari snapped. Maerad nodded fearfully, and got a scowl for her troubles. "I'd expected someone a bit...taller. And older. And not so skinny."
Maerad glared, stung.
"So sorry to disappoint," she retorted rudely, forgetting her nerves for the moment, then remembering them a second later and clapping her hand to her mouth, mortified. "I mean, um…"
For some reason, though, the rolling pin did not come into play – instead, Mari beamed at her with a mouth full of more gaps than teeth. "Ah, that's more like it! A bit of fire to you! I'll bet you keep this one in line, eh?" She nudged the sullen Cadvan again.
Maerad smiled timidly, unsure what to say, but apparently the pin wielding monster had finished tormenting her for now, and turned back to the cowering Cadvan.
"Come on then, come in, what are you waiting for? The stables are all ready, and dinner's going to be late, and it's all your fault, so you'd better make it quick, yes?"
"Yes, Mari," Cadvan muttered.
"And don't mumble," she shot behind her as she strode back to the house.
They waited until the door had firmly shut behind her before breathing a collective sigh of relief.
"She's…" Maerad began, then realised she didn't know where to start.
"Yes," Cadvan said grimly. "But she likes you. She smiled at you. That means she likes you." He paused, then added, "Well, usually."
Maerad gulped.
A large bowl of something brown and sticky was thumped in front of Maerad with astounding viciousness.
"Eat," commanded the bowl's sharp-tongued owner, and returned to the stove, not before presenting Cadvan with the same bowl of horror.
Maerad stared down into the bowl. Its contents stared back.
She glanced up at Cadvan sitting on the opposite side of the rickety wooden table and grimaced in a plea for help, but he just winked cheekily at her, then removed his spoon from the bowl (with some difficulty) and plopped it into his mouth with every sign of enjoyment.
Maerad looked back down at her bowl. Well, she thought. I've managed to save the world, surely eating this should be no trouble…
Somehow, this thought was not as convincing as it should have been.
To distract herself, she looked around the kitchen. It was a tiny affair, just large enough to hold a rusting stove, a few counters and their table. A small pantry led off to one end, from which emitted the tempting scents of several different herbs, some of which Maerad thought she could recognise from Cadvan's cooking. She realised that this was probably just how the kitchen had looked when Cadvan was a child, and entertained herself for a while by imagining a five year old Cadvan running around the kitchen, getting in his mother's way, begging for scraps and talking about everything from the mysteries of life to the colour of his socks. The image made Maerad feel a little sad, as if that Cadvan wasn't the one she knew, a different Cadvan, a different person. It was as if the five year old Cadvan wasn't done yet, that he still had more years to go before he was hers, her Cadvan…
She looked sidelong at Cadvan, who was finishing off his gloop and showing all signs of asking for more. He must have had a happy childhood, she mused, then remembered her own and felt the same dull anger and loss pound through her veins. Most of her life had been nothing but a simple stream of sadness and misfortune and hurt. It didn't have a place here, in this homely, happy place. Maybe she didn't have a place here…
She noticed Cadvan watching her, and turned her attention back to her bowl to avoid looking at him. Tentatively, she tried a spoonful.
It tasted wonderful.
Darkness. So much darkness, not the simple darkness of the night, but an actual mind-blanking, heart-freezing darkness. A malicious darkness. A living darkness. Watching her…
She stepped forward, a dark figure into the dark background. And yet they could still see her, she knew. They were there, waiting on the edges of her mind as they always did, hovering there, even in her waking hours, waiting for the moment when they could return to plague her, to plea with her.
She could hear their voices now, a thousand thousand voices, all talking of different things, but all with that same begging note in their words.
"Please, tell my son – "
"Please, avenge me – "
"Please, tell me – "
"Please – "
"Please – "
"Please – TAKE ME BACK."
And now she could see them, shimmering grey shapes in the blackness, coming towards her, hands outstretched but touching nothing, murmuring their constant prayers, whispered appeals, reaching for her heart, ready to entwine themselves into her forever, and if they did that, she knew, they would never leave. Not that they showed any signs of this anyway…
Stuck forever, with the pleas of the dead.
"Please…"
"Please…"
"Please…take me back."
Maerad awoke, trembling and gasping, to find herself in the small attic room of the house, not alone in the room but alone in the bed. Mari had pointedly shown them into the room, indicating the two separate beds inside it and giving them severe looks until they agreed to sleep apart. It had been the first time since the first windswept night in the Innail inn that Maerad and Cadvan had spent apart, and Maerad now realised just how good the closeness had been for her…the dreams did not come when Cadvan was near.
She groaned as quietly as possible and sat up, balancing her forehead on her knees and twining her arms around them. Was this going to be her reward for saving the Light? Constant nightmares of the dead? And not a vengeful, angry dead, but a sad, pitiful dead, which was much worse in a way…Would she be like that when she was dead? Not at peace, as she hoped, but miserable, desperate, as hopeless as those shades, grey in the darkness, nothing in the world.
She let out an unexpected sob, then swallowed it quickly before she woke Cadvan up, burrowing her face in her knees.
She wasn't quite as successful as she had hoped. The other bed rustled a little, and then Cadvan's voice said quietly,
"Maerad? Are you all right?"
Maerad swallowed hard.
"Fine," she said levelly.
She should have known it wouldn't work. The covers on the other bed were pushed back, and Cadvan gently padded over to hers, perching on the edge of it, his hands quietly finding hers in the semi-darkness.
"What was it?"
"Just a nightmare."
"About…?"
"The dead," she whispered. She sensed Cadvan go still.
"You still see them?" he asked in a monotone.
"Only in my head," she muttered. "B – but always there, always asking for things, so many things Cadvan, that I can't give them – " Another sob broke out of her before she could protest, and Cadvan's grip on her hands tightened.
"You should have told me."
"I – haven't had the nightmare in a while."
A pause.
"Why not?"
Maerad felt herself blush, and thanked the Light it was dark.
"I think it was the empty bed…"
Another pause, in which she could almost hear Cadvan grinning.
"Shut up," she snapped, and put her head back in her knees.
Cadvan shifted on the bed.
"Move up."
"What?"
"I said, move up. You've got all the space."
Nonplussed, Maerad automatically shifted sideways, and Cadvan settled himself more comfortably on half of the bed.
"Maerad," he said, then was silent for a while. Maerad instinctively lay her head on his shoulder and listened to his steady breathing.
"Maerad," he said again, eventually. "I cannot pretend to know the full extent of what you saw and what you went through before we reunited the Song, but from what I can see, it was a terrifying experience. One that I am not overfond of you having to constantly repeat. So if there is anything I can do…anything."
"I know," she whispered. "But I'm not sure anyone can do anything…not about this. I suppose it's just something I will have to live with."
"There is too much you have to 'just live with'," Cadvan said, sounding suddenly angry. Maerad nodded, not sure what to say. There was nothing either of them could do about it; it was the past, the past could not be changed, and her life could not be repeated. Cadvan could be as angry as he liked at the world, but it wouldn't change anything. And she was happy now. Surely that was all she needed?
"It's all right," she said quietly.
As quietly as possible, Cadvan slipped back between the covers and Maerad, as she had done for what felt like aeons now, shifted closer to him. He was warm and comfortable, and she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder, feeling instantly better.
"Are you sure?" he asked to her previous comment.
"Yes," she murmured. "But your great grand-niece will kill us if she finds us like this."
"Let her try," he answered grimly, and Maerad couldn't help but laugh, feeling the last vestiges of her nightmares float away with the sound.
"She hit you with a rolling pin!" she giggled, slightly hysterically. "You, the great Cadvan of Lirigon himself – "
"Shut up – "
"One hit with a rolling pin and you're as meek as a lamb!"
"Shut up – "
"Oh, if only Malgorn and Silvia knew, they'd never let you live it down…"
"Don't you dare!" He reached down and tickled her mercilessly, and Maerad shrieked with surprise and laughter, and pushed herself away from him, wriggling to escape his fingers, while Cadvan, shaking with suppressed amusement, leaned forward and placed a quick finger on her lips.
"Shh! Shh!"
A quick moment passed, merely another heartbeat in the pulse of time, but the atmosphere changed completely in that beat – from giddily light-hearted and silly to abruptly very adult and very real. Maerad realised suddenly that Cadvan was close, very close, and that he had one hand on her hips, to stop her from falling off the edge of the bed, and the other cupping her cheek. She could feel the heat from his fingers burning through her nightdress, and her breathing quickened once more, though this time from desire, not fear.
"Maerad," said Cadvan, and it was in a voice he had never used before, a very dark and husky voice – it sent shivers sparking through her.
"Mmm?" she tried, but any further speech was halted by the feel of Cadvan's lips on her own.
The kiss was not like the one she had received earlier that day; it was still soft, but it was not tender, nor sweet – this was a hard, burning kiss that thrilled her down to her toes and into the very centre of her being. She gasped momentarily as he moved away, then moaned again as his mouth came colliding down onto hers once more, his tongue dancing against hers, his hands sliding very gently down her hips.
When he moved away again, Maerad realised she was lying deeply against the pillows, and that Cadvan was above her, pinning her very gently down into the mattress, his eyes burning with a flame that both enticed her and scared her.
"I have been wanting to do that all day," he commented, almost lazily.
Maerad swallowed hard, waiting for her body to calm itself down before she could reply without trembling.
"I see," she managed, in an admirably level voice, she thought.
"Mmm." Cadvan flopped back onto his side of the bed, resting his elbow on the pillows and his chin on his hand so that he could look at her. "You are very adorable when you are nervous."
Maerad turned her head to glare at him.
"You're making fun of me."
"Not at all." He flashed her a roguish grin, and Maerad had a sudden impression of what he must have looked like as a young man. She could see why Ceredin had fallen for him, she thought dizzily, arrogance and all.
"Well," she sniffed. "At least I impressed Mari."
"Yes, she is not happy with me," he replied, suddenly subdued. "I should have visited sooner."
Maerad took pity on him.
"You were busy saving the world."
Cadvan grinned.
"Oh no, it was you doing that. I just trailed after you."
Maerad laughed into the darkness. Very lightly, Cadvan reached out and traced the shape of her collarbone under her nightdress, smiling a little when she closed her eyes and bit her lip.
"Cadvan," she murmured.
The fingers trailed softly down her arm, then followed the curve of her hips and fell to her thighs, bare under the covers. She could feel the heat of his hand against her skin, a roughness against her softness, gentle in its slow caressing. The fingers found their way to her inner thighs and smoothly ran up and down the swell of her leg, taunting her until she found herself whispering for more, asking for his fingers to go just a little higher…
The hand slipped away, the touch vanished, and Maerad opened her eyes to look into Cadvan's smirking face.
"You are a horrible man," she pouted. Cadvan winked, then leant down and briefly kissed her lips, all sweet and tender again.
"Soon, I promise."
"But why not – "
He kissed her again.
"Shh. Sleep. I'm here, nothing else is going to trouble you."
Maerad sulkily closed her eyes, relaxing once more into his arms. She knew why he was doing it, why he had stopped, she knew that taking everything slowly was a good idea, that they had all the time in the world.
It was just a bit difficult to remember this when Cadvan's fingers were against her skin.
She fell asleep, and this time the shadows stayed in the back of her mind, where they belonged.
So that's it for now. Please please review!! You know I adore every comment I get…