Posted: 3/26/11
Updated: 3/28/11
Healing
Preston's moans and restless movements woke Sookie. She jerked up and rolled off of Preston. He was on fire. She had fallen asleep on top of him. Sitting up, her eyes scanned her surroundings. Preston had been calling her name out during the night. The only thing that had kept him calm was touching him. She'd undressed them and pressed her body against his. The more skin contact she had with him, the better. As long as she kept herself pressed against him, his body would relax and he would quiet.
Sookie slid off the bed and picked up her clothes. She slipped her shirt over her head and jimmied herself back into her jeans. Intuitively, like she had done over the last several hours when he grew restless with fever, she wrung out the cloth in the bowl of water next to the bed and wiped him down. She started with his forehead, moving to his neck, then his torso, then his arms, and then his good hand. By the time she had finished, Preston had quieted. She repeated the circuit twice more.
Since she arrived the day before, he still wasn't lucid when he was awake.
Sookie placed the wash cloth inside the bowl of water and moved her hands over Preston's bandages. She started to remove the one over his shoulder, then she moved to his chest, and then to his hand. Dr. Ludwig had instructed her to apply the ointment four times daily. Though it was the third time that day that Sookie had seen the wounds under Preston's bandages, she still flinched.
Carefully, Sookie applied the ointment. The deep gash cutting across his shoulder had not closed yet. The skin around the wound was red; raw. It looked painful. It was the iron that was preventing the wound from healing completely. Sookie moved to his chest.
A single line of screaming red stretched from one side of his upper chest to the other. This wound also had not closed, but it did seem to have filled in a bit. This was a good sign thought Sookie. However, his finger and the palm of his hand still had not changed any. It wasn't worse, but it wasn't better. A portion of Preston's finger that was now missing still hadn't healed.
"How is he?" Claude's tenor voice announced his arrival moments before he appeared between the panels of curtains screening the bed from the rest of the room. Sookie didn't jump; she was too tired.
"Still no change really." She sighed.
"We can't grow back what we lose." Sookie followed Claude's eyes to Preston's injured hand. "We can heal from almost anything, but we can't regenerate missing limbs."
"I didn't know." Sookie stared down at Preston's hand. She carefully applied the ointment over the exposed end of what was left of his finger.
"I brought a meal for you."
"Thank you, Claude."
"Claudine said to tell you that everything is fine at the bar."
"Can you stay a while?" she asked. "I'd like to clean up."
"When it's Claudine's turn, she'll bring you some of your own clothes."
"Ok." Sookie couldn't help feel a little disappointed. She was in the same cloths she arrived in. Catching Sookie's expression, Claude shifted from one foot to the next.
"The wardrobes," he hesitated. "I'll check and see what I can find."
"It's okay Claude." He shrugged nonchalantly and disappeared through the drapes.
Alone with Preston, Sookie turned her attention back to him. His complexion hadn't improved much since she first saw again. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Sookie leaned over the side table and prepped fresh clean bandages. When she finished applying the one, Claude reappeared.
"I can't stay long." Claude appeared on the opposite side of the bed. "There's a sleeping gown in the wash room."
Sookie glanced up at him and noticed his expectant expression. She took that as her queue. "I'll hurry." Claude nodded, but said nothing.
Hesitantly, Sookie moved away from the bed. Since she arrived, she had only left Preston's side when it was absolutely necessary. At the edge of the drapes, she paused to glance once more over her shoulder. She made herself take the last step through the panels of fabric.
Once in the sitting area, Sookie moved purposefully toward the washroom. She quickly spotted the gown Claude had mentioned along with a few towels. When she was near enough to the freestanding bathtub, she hesitated. It was filled with water. With no signs of plumbing in the room, she wondered how it had been filled.
"It's just hot of warm," Claude said. Sookie startled. When she turned, Claude was standing in the washroom with a smile of amusement on his lips. He gestured to a basket sitting on small table stool next to the tub. "Those are bath salts and balm for your hair."
"Thank you." Her eyes met Claude's gaze, searching for something she couldn't find the energy to know what exactly. Kindness? Wonderment flashed across blue eyes.
"I have to get back before someone notices I'm gone," Claude shifted on his feet. "Hurry." He turned abruptly and left. Sookie grinned. It was the first sincere smile she'd felt since she arrived.
As promised, she did hurry. It was, she thought, the fastest bath she had ever taken.
"Who's cloths is this?" Sookie asked gesturing to the simple tunic she was wearing. Claude was lounging in the sitting area. He stood up, watching Sookie drying her hair with one of the towels he had left out for her.
"Enda," he answered, "Niall's mate." He stepped forward. "I have to get back. Claudine will be back in the morning."
"Thank you, Claude." They stood staring at each other. An awkward silence filled the space between them.
"Bye." Claude disappeared. He didn't give Sookie a chance to say good-bye.
Sookie tried to eat what Claude brought her, but without much of an appetite, she left the tray almost untouched. She returned to Preston's side and watched him. He looked peaceful. Sookie slide next to him and before she could force herself not to, she fell asleep.
In the morning, Sookie woke up surrounded by the scent of Dr. Ludwig's ointment; it was a mixture of something close to cinnamon and frankincense. And somewhere under that scent was Preston; a clean masculine aroma.
Sookie shifted. That's when she felt a weight over her waist. Preston's arm. A smile drew up the corners of her mouth. Just as quickly, her face went blank. She remembered the last few days. Sookie opened her eyes. Her hand caressed Preston's arm draped over her waist.
Sometime during the middle of the night, Preston had rolled over, drawing Sookie against him.
She started to move and Preston's arm tightened around her and drew her into his body. This was a good sign, she thought. He was using his arm with his hand bandaged to keep her pressed against him. His hips pressed into her backside and Sookie smiled. It was definitely a good sign.
With some effort, Sookie turned herself so that she was eventually facing Preston. Her heart jumped and her pulse raced. His masculine beauty took her breath away. His color had returned. His chalky complexion had turned rosy and healthy. She drew her hand up to his face, and she touched him. No fever. She hauled out a breath of utter relief. He was going to be okay.
After sometime tracing his face with her hands, Sookie did manage to slide out from under Preston's strong arm. Leaning over him, she removed the bandages. "Wow," she whispered. His wounds had healed. The red raw skin had been replaced with healthy pink skin.
Though he didn't need it, Sookie still applied the ointment into the scars that were left behind. She wondered if they would heal as well.
Over his shoulder was a thick raised scar, which ran across, starting at the back and running toward the front side of his shoulder. A similar thick scar stretched across his chest at an angle. Her fingers slowly traced each scar noting the texture; smooth. Like her old scar on her side where she had been staked, Preston's scars were cooler to the touch.
She moved her attention to his hand. First, she applied the ointment on the scar across the palm of his hand, and then to his ring finger. It was the same length as his pinky finger. Where it had been severed, the new skin that had healed over the opening was thicker in texture. Her finger worked the ointment over the scar.
"Please don't." Preston drew his hand away from Sookie's. Seeing her touch the imperfection stirred something bitter inside him.
"Preston!" Sookie threw herself across his chest. "Did I hurt you." She was so close, she filled his vision.
"No."
"Thank god," she breathed the words into the side of his neck. Sookie tightened her arms around him, overcome with relief, gratitude, and joy. Without thinking, Sookie trailed happy warm kisses along his skin, ending with his lips. "I thought I'd lost you," she whispered between kisses.
"We're safe now." Preston cupped her face between his hands. In the peripheral of his vision, he caught his marred hand and he tried pressing Sookie away. He was disgusted with himself.
"What's wrong?" A pained expression ghosted across Sookie's face.
"You shouldn't be here." Preston averted his eyes.
"I'm exactly where I should be." Sookie absently picked up his scared hand and kissed his palm.
"How can you stand to touch me?" He took his hand out of Sookie's.
"How can I stand it?" Sookie sounded sarcastic. She didn't understand the mixed sensations she was feeling from him. "How can I stand not to? I love you Preston. I came as soon as Claudine was able to manage it. I've been here worrying; afraid I would lose you."
"I'm fine. You can go now."
Sookie sat up on the bed staring at him. She couldn't understand why he was pushing her away. If she didn't know differently, she would think he didn't love her. But she remembered Dr. Ludwig's words. He'll need some time to adjust.
"Please go Sookie." Preston's voice was harsh. He turned away from her piercing gaze. Shame; regret; pain; fear; each emotion worked to taint his soul.
"Preston, please don't do this," Sookie pleaded.
He pulled away from her reach, turning away so he couldn't see her face. The gesture pierced her.
"Just please. Go." Preston sounded defeated.
Sookie bit her lip, steeled herself, and stood. Silently, she took the ointment, closed the lid, and placed it on the tray. She moved around the bed, her eyes never meeting Preston's and picked up the discarded bandages.
The silence was deafening.
Preston was keenly aware of her moving about. She was like electricity reaching out toward him. Her spark caressed him, like silk running over the length of his own spark. She was marking him.
Preston stilled, closing his eyes. He remained silent, not trusting his heart. When he was sure he wouldn't call her to him, he opened his eyes. She refused to look up at him, but he couldn't blame her. A part of him felt it was probably for the best. He didn't believe it. He watched her take the tray and disappear between the curtains.
"He just needs time," she assured herself.
Though her mind understood he needed time to adjust, her heart didn't. Every part of her wanted to turn back around and take Preston into her arms, but she didn't. He needed some time; exactly how much time, she didn't know.
Standing at the door that led out to the terrace, Sookie watched the last remnants of night slip away, replaced by the lights and sounds of a new day. She turned away from the landscape and stood staring into the room. Deciding she couldn't avoid Preston any longer, she moved toward the panels of fabric with a glass of water and a bowl with some sort of fruit that Claude had brought her last night.
"You should eat something." Sookie glanced up. She quietly gasped. Preston was sitting on the edge of the mattress, his feet on the floor.
Her eyes trailed the expanse of his strong smooth back.
An overwhelming urge to run her hands across the soft planes, knotted things below her belly button. The tactile memory made her breath flutter. The desire to want to feel him under her hands was strong.
"Get a grip," she silently scolded herself.
She moved slowly, her eyes never drifting away from his back, noticing how the muscles moved as she walked toward him.
Stepping around the corner of the bed, Sookie walked near him and sat the tray next to the bed. Preston felt his stomach tighten. His traitorous body and heart betrayed him. Preston closed his eyes. She was so close he felt the heat from her body against his legs. He told himself he wouldn't touch her.
Slowly, he lifted his gaze, allowing his eyes to roam over Sookie's body. He knew if he leaned forward, closed the few inches between them, that he would be able to smell her skin. His hands twitched. The sensation reminded him that he was no longer whole. His jaw tightened. Without knowing he was doing it, he hid his scared hand.
"Where am I?" He knew he was in Faery, but he didn't know whose bed he was in.
"Claude and Claudine said we're safe here."
"Go home." His voice barely veiled the anger he felt. He was relieved that Breandan was dead, but for a fraction of a second he wasn't sure the price was worth it. "It was," he mumbled to himself. Sookie was safe. He closed his eyes. To never touch her again had been the steepest price he had paid.
"What's wrong Preston?"
Sookie glanced down at him. Preston's once expressive eyes were now blank.
"I don't want you here." His voice had an edge. Sookie's arms tightened next to her body.
"I won't leave like this." She chocked on the pain welling up in her throat.
He was being stupid and it frustrated Sookie, because she could feel that he knew he was.
She squared her shoulders and before either she or Preston knew what happened, she drew a hand up and slapped him. Her eyes went wide with shock. The sound of palm smacking flesh echoed in the room. Preston stared up at her with shock, not quite believing what she'd done.
Panting, almost breathless, she struck him again. It was automatic.
"You don't get to get rid of me." Tears streamed down her cheeks. She knew he needed time to adjust, but this, the way he was acting. She raised her hand again. Preston seized her wrists.
He held her trembling in his grip. Her breathing was frantic.
"If you don't love me, then I'll leave." Her lips quivered.
His eyes fixed on her. Sookie let out a quiet gasp. His lovely chocolaty hair perfectly framed his face. His tawny colored eyes filled with a heat that made her heart skip a beat. Preston watched her closely. The rise of her chest; the warmth of her skin against his hands; her pulse; her deep short breaths that matched his own.
"I don't..." His chest tightened. He couldn't lie to her. She was close enough for him to smell her skin. It was intoxicating. He shook his head.
"Say it," she demanded, yanking futilely on her wrists. A muffled growl rose from his chest. The sound made her tremble in deep dark ways. She tried harder to pull out of his hold, but she couldn't. Preston was strong. She sometimes forgot just how strong he was.
"Why are you so stubborn?" A sad smile ghosted over his lips.
"If you want me to leave, say it." She hated how unsteady she sounded.
Preston released her wrists. Sookie stood perfectly still between his thighs. She was panting. The sound excited him. Despite himself, he slowly ran his fingers along the outside of her gown, following the line of her thigh. Her spark reached out to him; touched him.
A soft breath slipped though Sookie's lips. She tightened with need under the feather light touch of his fingers. She didn't understand what was happening, but she didn't want to stop it. A part of her, something deep inside her, was reaching out like an invisible hand and touching Preston's exploring fingers.
Slowly, unhurried, Preston trailed his hand, pausing at her waist. He closed his hands to hold her securely.
"I," he paused.
Sookie fisted her small hands.
Suddenly, the tension between them was like a high wire. The invisible line connecting them was about to snap without breaking. It would give, like a guitar string being plucked, just enough to send sweet ripples through them both.
"Kiss me." Her voice was raspy.
Preston's heart beat quickened. He hesitated.
"Kiss me. Then I'll go." Her delicate and soft fingers played over the skin of his shoulders. His body quivered under her touch. But it was more than Sookie's feminine hands, it was also her essential spark. He looked up at her.
"One kiss." What he did next was instinct. He drew her down by her arms toward him, and he kissed her. At first it was gentle, but one touch wasn't enough. He kissed her again more passionately. Everything else vanished.
Preston's touch was proprietary. His hands, like Sookie's were demanding. Before she realized it, her thighs were straddling him. Preston's mouth went to the curve of her neck, claiming, fighting the need to mark Sookie. His breaths were deep, filling something deep inside himself with the scent of her skin.
"I love you," he confessed. He tugged at the cord holding Sookie's gown. When it gave, his hands easily pulled her tunic down to her waist. Her back arched gracefully, placing her succulent breasts near his mouth. Preston buried himself in her silky mounds, inhaling her scent. She moaned when his tongue flicked out, touching her nipple.
Her essential spark jumped out, clinging to Preston. It swirled around his, like two lovers, melding into an invisible energy that cocooned them; filled them. The healing effect of their combined energy pulsed through them. Sookie cried out; overwhelmed. It was too much pleasure.
"Mark me." Her voice was raw. Desperate. For a few days, she had thought she would lose him forever. The thought of going a day, a lifetime, without Preston, was too painful to imagine. She wanted Preston's fairy mark on her.
Preston drew back. His eyes were dark with his need.
"Mark me," she told him again. Sookie took his scared hand and kissed it tenderly.
"Sookie." Preston's voice was pained. How could she still love him like this?
"I love you." She kissed each finger, and when she was done she drew his hand to her and placed it on her breast. "Make me yours."
That last gesture undid him. With his scared hand he kneaded her breast. Sookie let out a sigh mixed with soft moans. The scar across his palm, teased her sensitive skin, sending ripples of pleasure that were almost painful it felt so good.
Preston's hands slid down around Sookie's waist again and rested on her back, drawing her toward him. She didn't resist. Her back curved elegantly, her breast inching closer to Preston's mouth.
With heavy lids, Sookie watched him take as much of her between his lips, drawing her into the wet warmth of his mouth. Strange sounds filled the space between them. It took several moments for Sookie to realize it was her. She was bathing in the warm pleasure he washed her in. Her grip on the back of his arms, tightened. She needed to feel more of his body against her. She tried to press against him, but Preston held her firmly as she writhed.
A sharp cry spilled between her lips. Preston drew away, pulling her nipple as far as it would between his teeth. He released her.
"Tell me again." His voice was raw; thick with lust.
"Mark me." Sookie was breathless. "Show me I'm yours." Preston moved to her other breast, his tongue and mouth working the nipple into a hard bud. This time using more teeth, he took her, as much as he could, into his mouth.
His hands glided along the curve of her waist, over the swell of her hips, beneath the tunic and over the rise of her bottom, cupping her. He moaned into their kiss. She was completely nude to him beneath the tunic bunched around her waist.
"Again," Preston rasped.
"Show me," she half screamed. "I'm yours," Sookie whimpered. The look on Preston's face was sure and focused. It was filled with the perfect knowledge of what was going to happen. Sookie stared into his eyes, feeling his hands finding their way between the crevasses of her body. She shuddered. Her head swayed back, as Preston parted her.
"The other hand," Sookie moaned. She looked down at him and watched his expression as she took his scared hand and guided it between her thighs. A mixture of emotions rippled across Preston's handsome features. "Do it," she demanded. And he did.
Sookie screamed, her hips bucking against his hand.
"Yes. Oh yes." With each thrust of his fingers Sookie sounded less coherent. "God yesss." She could feel this fingers reaching up, touching places inside her that were impossible; his spark pulsed through his fingers and up into Sookie's body, caressing her where none of her previous lovers could ever touch. This was something only he could do; share with her. And the knowledge stirred something primitive inside Preston's soul. He moved his hand faster, making Sookie scream and shudder; again and again.
As his mouth left a trail of wet kisses along her heated skin, he brought Sookie to her first climax with his hand. She collapsed against him. Preston quickly moved her so that she was laying beneath him on the bed. Before she could recover, Preston kissed her. It was more like he was tasting her, drinking her into his body.
His scared hand confidently slid along the length of Sookie's smooth leg, until he reached the back of thigh. He guided her leg up and over his hip, opening her for him. There was nothing separating them. She was hot and wet against him. Sookie could feel him; he was hard and ready. He glided himself over her slick wetness. Her hips bucked, seeking him out, wanting him so badly she couldn't think straight.
"Preston. Please."
With his arms on each side of Sookie, Preston lifted himself enough to see where their bodies met. He groaned as the warmth of her body consumed him, inch by inch. He suddenly stilled; his head falling back. A loud moaned rumbled from his chest. Sookie's essential spark caressed him from inside starting where his body was touching her. She moved up his manhood, spreading her spark along his thighs.
"What are thinking?" he asked, panting. He watched her with heavy lids.
Sookie stared at him in awe. He was so beautiful; it caught her breath inside her throat.
"Mine," she rasped. Preston nodded, breathless, in agreement.
Her spark surged up then, like a tidal wave, through his body, marking him. He cried out, his hands gripping her thighs. He held on to her, pulling her up; raising her hips off the bed. Every muscle in his body trembled.
Sookie's gaze dropped between them and she watched with fascination as Preston filled her. Each movement he made to move deeper inside her, and then out, and then in again, made her moan.
The bedchamber filled with the sounds of their final coupling. And as he drowned himself in the scent of Sookie's skin, he marked his mate; allowed his scent to spill over every inch of her body one wave after another.
Sweaty and weak with the sweet exhaustion of their love making, they laid wrapped in a bundle of limbs; legs and arms. Surrounded by the scent of sex, the marking, traces of cinnamon and frankincense, and the scent that was all Preston, masculine, Sookie smiled contentedly. She snuggled her cheek into the curve of Preston's shoulder, practically purring with satisfaction. She was as happy as a cat that finally caught the canary.
Sookie couldn't be for sure, since she had never been drunk before, buzzed yes, but never out right intoxicated. But with Preston on top of her, breathless as she was, she felt high.
"We should get back." Preston was the first to catch his breath. He rolled over, bringing Sookie toward him. She tightened her hold across his chest. "It's too dangerous here for you."
"I don't think I can move," she said and she meant it. "That was something else." Her smile was lazy.
"That my lady," he said, "Is how fairies mark their mate."
"Did I mark you too?"
"Yes." Preston rolled her back over, pressing his hips into her until he elicited a soft moan from Sookie.
"No teasing Mr. Pradloe."
"Mr. Pradloe." Preston laughed.
Sookie moved her arms so she could reach up and touch the sides of Preston's face. "I think we should stay in bed all day."
"Are you trying to seduce me?"
"I thought I already did." Sookie smiled mischievously. Preston's moan caught inside his chest. Sookie's spark trailed along his, like a lover's tongue leaving a warm wet trail.
"Oh yeah," Preston agreed. His voice had a lazy velvety quality. He nuzzled into the nook of Sookie's neck. His hands went to the secret spot that he knew if he touched just so she would giggle uncontrollably. A moment later, Sookie's breathy and loud giggling filled the bedchamber. She writhed beneath him, not from ecstasy, but from laughter.
"That's not fair," Sookie cried out, "You're not ticklish."
The sound of someone clearing their throat instantly silenced them.
In a flash Preston was on his feet at the foot of the bed. Much less gracefully, Sookie climbed out of the bed and stood behind him. She found her gown and slid it on, tying the string at the neckline to keep it from cascading off her shoulders and to the floor.
Sookie touched Preston's back. He turned around, his finger at his lips indicating for her to be perfectly quiet. Sookie nodded. Preston reached for her hair and brought her long blonde locks over her ears to hide their roundness. He gestured for her to stay.
Preston moved toward the drapes. Sookie took a steadying breath. She could feel her pulse jumping frantically. Her eyes were fixed on Preston's bare back. The fact that he was completely nude was lost in light of possibly having been caught. Sookie's stomach tightened, not from anticipation of Preston's touch, but from fear.
The last sliver of Preston's flesh disappeared through the drapes. She was by herself, standing next to the bed, trying and failing not to tremble.
"Preston," said a man's voice. Sookie strained to listen. "Good to see that you have recovered."
Sookie let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She recognized the voice. She moved to step through the drapes. "Niall," she greeted her great-grandfather. Though he smiled, it missed his eyes. He was upset. The expression on his face alarmed Sookie.
Niall watched Sookie step beside Preston. Her arm went around his waist. The way they possessively and protectively held each other did not go unnoticed. He was not angry to find them together. He was angry at the risk that was taken.
He nodded his head disapprovingly. He had already sternly reproached Claudine. It was beyond negligible for her to have brought Sookie into Faery. The risk that Sookie would be discovered and lost to them prematurely caused his chest to tighten.
"I know that you do not recognize the grave danger you have put yourselves in." Niall made no attempt to disguise his displeasure. "Preston," Niall focused his malachite green eyes on him. "Get her safely backâquickly." Niall stood up taking a few steps to stand in front of the doors leading onto the terrace.
Sookie opened her mouth to speak, but Niall put up his hand, effectively silencing her.
"I know that you love him," Niall said. He paused to steady himself. "There are important things you need to know before this," he gestured at them, "Can go any further than it already has.
"I'll give you my blessing, only after you have heard me. Until then, you must promise not to see him. Not until you have heard me out."
There was something in the calm and earnest tone in Niall's voice that Sookie had never heard before. But it was more than that; it was the expression in Niall's face. The obvious effort to contain himself that she saw in his eyes made her swallow. Though there was anger, there was also pain and sorrow in Niall's eyes. Sookie didn't understand, but hearing his voice and seeing his face, it made her want to listen.
"I promise."
Niall sighed deeply then he disappeared, like stepping through a door.
"We need to go quickly." Preston turned to gaze down at her. "Get dressed."
"What's going on?"
"No matter the reason, it's forbidden for any of us, including Niall, to bring a human into Faery," Preston explained, "Its grounds for immediate execution. The fact that Niall has found out, it is now only a matter of time before the others, the lesser princes, discover you. They'll kill you, and execute me and anyone else they can link to you being here, including Niall."
Sookie swallowed. Preston touched the side of her neck.
"I thought with Breandan gone, there wouldn't be any more danger."
"It is not so much Breandan. We have laws, laws that govern us. Though it wasn't like this always, it is now forbidden for humans to enter Faery. Many fear a contamination in one form or the other. Faery is the last safe haven that we have." Sookie nodded. If she was a fairy, she might have felt the same way. "Let's go," said Preston.
"Okay." Sookie didn't have to be told twice.
"Don't leave anything that you brought with you," Preston instructed her. Sookie quickly pulled on every piece of clothing she brought with her, including her sneakers. It took her a few minutes to find the ponytail she had in her hair when she first got there. Once she found it, Preston teleported them out of Faery.
Sookie didn't breathe easily until they were back in Bon Temps and in her kitchen.
"We're safe now." Preston took Sookie's trembling hands into his.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm positive." He drew her close to him. Sookie allowed herself to relax into the warmth of this chest.
"Don't go just now," she said.
"I won't."
"Just hold me," she said and that's what Preston did. They spent their last moments together, holding each other, until it was time to say good-bye.
. . .