She is in this borrowed bed, lost in this shared madness, at peace with her love; safe in his arms, lost in his lips, holding him fiercely within her body; at peace with the night, it's cold lost to her in the warmth of his hard, strong muscles, his hot, impassioned lips on her naked skin, the fires of their inevitable release, the gentle heat of the afterglow that rises from them both as they fall into one other's heated flesh and lay their passions aside to rest. But she is at war with her own will.

She want's to make sure her plans come to fruition, to rob the old woman of not just the old...(STOP IT! STOP IT NOW! HE IS OUR SON! NOT A THING SEPARATE FROM US... even if his sire (NO! NOT 'SIRE!'- father (an amazing father... stop it.) will be.)

This sweet moment has passed...

She rose from their bed as Aeden dropped off to sleep, and walked over to the hearth, feeling it warm her naked flesh.(Get used to it, it'll be the only warmth you get when he is gone.)

She turned to him, the tears flowing from her eyes unabated. She looked to the ring on her hand and then to the flames.

(Do it. Free yourself. Be free of this madness before it is too late to stop the anguish of the inevitable loss, the inevitable emptiness, inevitable pain... the inevitable nothingness of the inevitable. Can you endure the madness of this union you know you MUST sever? and if so... for what? a month?, a week and a month?... SHE will find you once you leave him, then you lose all. All hope gone, all love, all the power to protect your child, yourself, gone. Along with your soul. Let this love go... for the sake of both of you.)

She touched his cheek.

(YOU KNOW WHAT IS COMING! Can you survive without love? Yes. Power? No. Do not let yourself die before you can live again.)

'And what of him?'

(He does not love you... he will get over you being gone; he will perhaps couple with the bard... he does NOT love you - You will not break his heart.)

She clenched her fist and kissed the ring, tasting her own tears on her finger as she did.

One moment in the grips of loves warm embrace is worth a thousand years without it. One kiss can prove to be the breath of life. One touch of a lover's gentle hand upon your skin can redeem your very soul - if one lets it. But all this is lost in the all-consuming anguish of its shared rending... as it will be for them - in the near future. THAT is THEN... for now...

She woke him.

"Are you...?" he said in genuine concern, seeing her eyes.

She silenced his question with her mouth, her tongue, her adoration as she pulled the blanket back from his body, tossed it to the floor and they once more made love, naked to the world, and any who entered their room. She wondered if he could sense her pain, her sadness as she masked it in the throes of the pleasure they shared.

Upon the bedside table rested her mothers Black Grimoire, found by her Aeden, the means to fulfil the promise of all these wonderous nights, to ensure the safety of their son, and of her. All she felt at this moment was the rapture of their union... and the anxiety of what must happen if it was to continue; if she was to be safe to escape with their child before the old woman knew and claimed it. Would Flemeth risk losing the chance to have the old one at all to spare herself the pain of death... again?

She closed her eyes to the thought as she succumbed to their shared moment of release, nearly passing out from it. He had to kill the old woman (ha, KILL Flemeth? never - stall). Still, it had to be done, and if it was to succeed, only he could do it. The old woman knew what she felt for him as sure as she knew she would read the grimoire (Flemeth NEVER didn't know).She knew only Aeden would be the sire, so she had to let him win, let him stay functioning, unharmed, alive... didn't she?

He smiled at her as she lay beside him and touched his face, trying to convince herself she would see it once more... she had to - or the old woman would lose everything - all to keep her withered shell intact.

Morrigan curled up in his arms and rested her head to his chest, hearing his heart beat (forgive me my love; I will be with you if you fail... what purpose will I serve then? What point to my life? I will deny her my body, my life - as she denied me yours) She would wait the night in his sweet embrace, feel his life before making her fateful request. (Hear me mother... kill him, you kill your dreams, and your dreams for me... find a suitable mate then.) and faded off to sleep.