Maerad groaned, letting her head fall onto the desk in front of her with a thud. "This is ridiculous, Cadvan. Nobody should be forced to study on their birthday." She clasped her hands over the back of her head as if to hide herself from the piles of parchment that were sprawled out before her.
"Well, if you hadn't insisted on taking another bath this morning, we could have gotten here sooner and been finished by now," he teased, while lazily thumbing through a book that was left on the shelf in Dernhil's study.
Three months ago, when they returned to Innail, Maerad had taken on the task of cleaning out the cluttered room that she once studied in. It was no small task: there were still copious amounts of books stacked as high as the ceiling, and Cadvan often wondered how his friend could have studied in such a place without feeling as if the walls were closing in around him. She insisted that if she were to do any studying that it would be in this room, and Cadvan, not wanting to argue, agreed to help her.
Since then, the pair of them had spent every morning poring over books and scrolls; occasionally Cadvan would ask Maerad to read one of them aloud and she would nervously oblige, stuttering and sometimes mispronouncing a word but understanding the basic thought. His heart swelled with pride when he thought of how far she had come since their first meeting in that Light-forsaken cow byre: she had trusted him without question and followed him into the wilderness on a perilous mission to save all of Annar and the Seven Kingdoms.
Of all possible outcomes, he never imagined that he would fall in love with her, but the ways of the heart are not easily understood. Maerad had saved his life on more than one occasion; more importantly, he felt as if she saved his being. Long ago, he had sworn off the world and condemned himself to a life of solitude and desolation. It was easier than reliving the nightmare of his past in the eyes of every person he encountered. But Maerad, she was untainted by the venomous tongues of others; even when she learned of his dealings with the Dark, there was never a glint of malice in her eyes. Cadvan sat silently with his thoughts for a moment before he was shaken from them when Maerad looked up at him.
"Cadvan?" she called, a look of concern creased her gentle features, "Are you alright?"
"Yes, yes, quite alright," he answered quickly in an attempt to cover his momentary daydream, "I'm just tired." He yawned and stretched his arms above his head for good measure; from the corner of his eye he could see that Maerad was smirking skeptically. She pushed herself away from the table and strode across the room to where he was lounging, legs outstretched on another chair.
"In all of the time that I have known you, never have you been described as a day dreamer", she quipped, pushing his feet off the chair and pulling him upwards. A familiar warmth trickled down her spine as he wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her close to him.
Their relationship hadn't progressed much farther than private kisses and the flirtatious glances at dinner and Maerad often found herself feeling insecure; Cadvan was a man of great stature: he was a very powerful Bard and with his looks and charm, he could have any woman he chose. Surely one day he would tire of her and run into the arms of another woman who was much less damaged and maimed than she. The thought of one day living without him hurt her more than any other physical pain she had ever felt, but before she could think any further on the matter Cadvan's lips met hers and all thought vanished.
"Then they do not know me," he answered quite a few moments later, his voice no louder than a whisper, "Not as you do." Maerad smiled but found herself unable to hold his gaze: for it held too many emotions that overwhelmed her. To say that she loved him would not do her feelings justice; if she were to lose him someday, she would enjoy every day fully until then. Reaching up, she stroked the scar on his cheek,
"Spend the day with me," her voice filled with a gentle pleading, "We could go to the market and eat pears in the garden..."
"Oh, I would absolutely love to, my dear," Cadvan said, his brow knitted in contemplation as if denying her caused him pain, "But Malgorn requests my presence at the meeting of The First Circle this afternoon and I must speak to Hem before, if I am to make it to your birthday feast tonight."
At the mention of Hem, Maerad raised an eyebrow. While Cadvan and Hem were friendly towards each other she could not fathom why Cadvan would seek him out; he was just a boy after all.
"What business do you have with my brother?" she asked, stepping backwards so that he was holding her far enough away to see her suspicious expression. Cadvan looked as if he had been caught in the cross-fire of a heated battle with no chance of escape.
"Oh…I...Erm...just have to ask him about…healing…something."
"You are lying. You would never ask Hem for advice."
He smiled weakly, looking crestfallen, "I am, but I promise you, I mean no ill will. I must be going. I will be late." Cadvan kissed her quickly before bolting out the door.
"Oh!" he exclaimed, turning on his heels and peeking around the door frame, "Happy birthday Maerad." Cadvan flashed one of his brilliant smiles and was gone before she could respond.