Chapter 29
Elena had sought out refuge in the spa, and when that had tapered out, she had gone exploring. She found herself presently in a library tucked up a flight of stairs on the side of the grand entrance hall. To her pleasant surprise, as she rounded a shelf she stumbled onto Cullen poring over several open books spread across a table. His golden curls were mussed and a few locks fell in front of his eyes as he scanned the pages before him. She swallowed and cleared her throat, announcing her presence. He jerked and looked up at her, one hand going to his hip where his sword usually rested.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to frighten you." She said stepping over to the other side of the table and peering down at his books, though they were hard to decipher upside down. The spidery writing blending into long, thin, rather uniform lines from her position. "What are you reading?"
He cleared his throat and began to close the books, hurriedly stacking them up in front of himself. "Nothing useful." He grimaced and shoved the stack of books to the end of the table. "I can't seem to stop running into you, can I?" He huffed as he turned to browse the shelf behind him.
Elena felt herself blush, "I didn't realize… Is that a bad thing?"
He turned back with a book in his hand and looked uneasily away from her. "Well… I–I mean to say… you see the thing is… My lady… you're betrothed… but not to me."
Elena rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips, "What does that have to do with anything?"
He set the book down and went to the window. He stared desperately out of it, as if if he looked far enough away he could be transported to that place. "I can't seem to stop finding you." He let out a disbelieving breath, raised his eyebrows, and shook his head. "Maker knows I've been trying."
"You've been trying to avoid me?" She asked, thinking back to his arrival at the bar where he had declared he had been actively searching for her. She scoffed and shook her head.
He traced a finger along the lines of the window frame, "Not… very hard." He chuckled, turning and leaning his elbows in the window sill so he was framed by the golden afternoon light. A hero straight from the tales of her childhood. A man who she had wronged at every opportunity. A man she did not deserve. She turned away from him and started to leave.
She heard the scuffle of his boots on the floor. "Wait!" He called to her. Unbidden, her feet stopped and at the same moment, he gripped her wrist and tugged.
She turned to face him, swallowing around the lump in her throat. "Why?" She asked breathlessly. Maker it felt so good to feel his grip on her again even if it was just her wrist. She felt the same lightning strike reverberate through her arm that she had felt in the bar when their hands had touched. He blinked and stood back, his hand trailing down her wrist to twine their fingers together. He tugged on her again. She stepped closer to him, looking up into his liquid honey eyes. She couldn't look away. She didn't want to. The intensity in his eyes was hypnotic. Her heart hammered in her throat, her breath fluttered in her chest. His other hand reached out so that now he held both of her hands in his. She shivered at his touch as another shock of lightning arced through her. "Tell me why, after everything, I shouldn't leave, Cullen." She watched his eyes widen almost imperceptibly at the use of his given name, it set her body aflame with hope. "You know I should."
He raised her hands to his lips, brushing them along the tops of her knuckles oh, so delicately she almost didn't feel them. "I should never have let you go with anger in our hearts." He whispered, his breath skating across the backs of her hands and straight to her heart. It leapt powerfully against her ribs, as if it were trying to burst forth and embrace him itself.
She scoffed, the sound choking out of her in disbelief, "Don't you apologize to me. Don't you dare."
He smirked at her over her knuckles, pressing another firmer kiss against them, "I was wrong to let you go at all." One hand snaked down her arm to her waist, settling warmly against her hip. She felt her knees go weak at the touch.
She leaned back away from him, distancing herself without really moving. If she wasn't careful she would faint then and there. She shook her head, trying to resist the pull of her heart and body, to listen to the more rational side of her mind. "I'm the one who was wrong, and you know it. I should've listened to you and followed your orders even when I didn't like them. I should've told Fabien to leave me alone or found him a new troop to be with. I should have treated you better than I did. I should have appreciated you. I should have loved you like you loved me."
His eyebrows went up as his eyes widened, mouth dropping slightly open, "Loved?"
She nodded, "Yes. I'm sorry Cullen. Words are not enough to express the depth of my contrition. I have spent the past three years paying penance for my transgressions. Though, I worry it will never be enough. Still, I am truly sorry for all the pain I've caused you."
"Elena." He let her name slip from his lips and it landed on her ears like starlight and dew drops. Pure. Ringing. True. Her spirit rejoiced in the sound while her heart cringed away from it, knowing she was undeserving. She bit back tears. He let go of her hand, putting a slight pressure on her hip as he did so, and brought his free hand up to trace along her jaw until his fingers nestled into her hair. He expertly tilted her face to his. "You say these things, and I accept your apology. I forgive you for your short comings and reckless, insubordinate behavior. How could I not?"
She licked her lips as he drew them every closer together. "It'd be very easy and understandable if you didn't."
He bobbed his head in acknowledgement, "What worries me, Elena, is that you say 'loved' as if I have ever, for a single moment, stopped loving you."
"Of course you have." He was hovering barely a breath away from her, poised exquisitely, tantalizingly close to her like the forbidden fruit. She could hardly breathe. He smelled so good, like ferns, oakmoss, leather, and lilies. The scents of a forest after a spring rain. His arms were strong, his heart beating through his woolen dress coat steady and reassuring beneath her own rapid one.
"No…" He breathed out, "I haven't." He pressed his lips to hers. Slowly. Oh, so slowly. He fit them together gently, tenderly, purposefully like two halves of a whole. She melted into him. The world clicked into place in a way that it hadn't since they had spent the night together. Her heart and soul opened and blossomed to the universe as everything came crashing into her. Her senses were alive with the electricity of the moment. Her body warmed by his felt as if it would burst into flames. If it weren't for his hold on her, she was certain she would float right off the earth or fall through the ground. She wasn't sure which. She clutched at his shoulders, clinging to him with a desperate abandon.
She found that he was holding her in the same way, his grip on her just a little too tight. She loved it. The way his fingers pressed into her flesh at her hip and the nape of her neck. The way he tasted as he deepened the kiss like cinnamon and chocolate, warm and sultry. She pressed into him, wanting more, and he stepped backwards until they bumped noisily into a table. She felt him sit halfway down and clambered up into his lap, sliding one leg up his muscular thigh so that she partially straddled him. His hands wandered freely over her body, pushing and pulling at her. It felt so good to have him this way. She could scarcely believe it! Fabien had been right!
Fabien! She broke the kiss off, stepping back suddenly and wordlessly. Cullen remained half-seated on the table edge, his hands outstretched as if still holding her, his face bewildered. "I'm so sorry! There's… I've got to go." She explained quickly. "Cullen. Please. I've got to go." She continued, backing further away from him, hands clasped before her. She didn't wait for his reply. She left. Hurrying along as quickly as she could. Her lips and skin still burned from Cullen's touch. She had to act now or she would lose her nerve.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Fabien, she found, was on break and lounging in the spa. His armor was removed, leaving him in just a linen open collared shirt that clung to his sweat soaked chest in an almost purposeful way and breeches. He was spread languorously across one of the pale yellow couches, being fanned gently by an attractive girl with a spray of feathers in her hand, while sipping from a silver goblet. The air in the spa was significantly cooler than outside and Fabien's cheeks were flushed above his dark, close-cropped beard. She groaned inwardly. Why does he have to be this way? Why do they both have to be this way? Presently, he stood and walked to the edge of the nearby pool.
He removed his sweat-soaked shirt, which dragged across his skin like the lingering fingers of a lover reluctant to be parted from him. He slung it away from him where it landed with a sad little plop by the couch and dove into the pool. His long body forming a perfect line from his outstretched hands to the tips of his pointed toes. He resurfaced a moment later and slowly stroked his way back to where he had entered. She swallowed as she watched every inch of his well-defined physique emerge from the depths, pouring water off his shoulders, rivulets tracing the lines of his hips and abs, slutty little water droplets clinging to his chest hair only to drip down to where the muscles of his hips met in a severe 'V' below the trail of hair from his navel beneath his waistband. His thick arms he swung up and stretched behind himself, clearly showing off as every woman in the room came to a stand still to stare at his godly body. He turned, displaying his carved back for all to see. The feather girl, Elena was sure, was about to faint. He bent, show-casing his rounded buttocks, and swiped his hands down his thighs, slinging sheets of water from his breeches back into the pool before accepting a towel from a very red-faced blonde with a little wink and a smirk. The blonde turned, covered her face with both hands, and hurried off somewhere. Having seen him put on such a show many times before had not made Elena immune to its charms, but it had taught her how to keep a straight face and a closed mouth.
He walked over to her, roughly toweling his hair dry, wet feet slapping gently on the marble tiles. "Well, if it isn't Lane, my dearly betrothed. Come to enjoy the show, sweetness?" He leaned down and pecked her on the cheek.
She shook herself and waved him off of her, "No… Yes.. but no. No. I didn't come here to watch you flaunt yourself in front of pretty girls. Honestly, it's not very becoming behavior for someone who is betrothed."
He winked at her from behind the edge of the towel, only half his face showing. "Of course not. But if you've got it, flaunt it." He stretched the towel behind his back, and vigorously sawed it side to side up his spine, taking great care to stretch and flex every muscle he could on the way, "But then again… you've never been interested in me for my body." He ran the towel up his front in much the same way and tossed it to the feather girl who dropped her fan and caught it, "Even though it is spectacular!" He finished, reaching out and ruffling her hair.
Elena crossed her arms and tapped her fingers against her sides. "Are you quite finished showing off?"
Fabien took a dry shirt from another girl who had silently appeared next to them, openly staring at his chest. He blew her a small kiss as she walked back to her position in the pavilion. "Yes. My break is almost done. I've got to let Frakes out of his armor before he roasts like a Wintersend ham." He took another towel and a pair of dry breeches from yet another girl and motioned for Elena to follow him to a changing screen. "Thanks, sweet heart." He told the girl with a playful swat to her backside as she turned to leave. She gave a little yelp of glee and scurried off to stand close to the shirt girl, the feather girl sidling over surreptitiously to join them in their whispers.
Elena rolled her eyes and followed him to the screen. She stood outside of it while he went behind. He slapped his wet breeches up on top of it. Elena intervened when she saw the blonde girl returning at the fastest walk she could muster, reaching for the discarded pants. She held out a wordless hand and the blonde made an about face and went to stand with the other girls, who all glowered at Elena.
Fabien stepped out from behind the screen, dry breeches on, toweling his hair again. "Care to tell me why you've sought me out? If not to admire my chest hair."
Elena guiltily pulled her eyes away from the curls of dark hair spread across his chest as he slipped the dry shirt over his head and settled it across his shoulders. "To be fair, Fabien, your chest hair is at just about eye level for me, so it's hard to avoid looking at when you've got it on display."
He shrugged as he started tucking his shirt tails in. "What can I say? I'm blessed with great height and great chest hair."
"You're incorrigible."
He leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "I know. It's why you're marrying me."
"About that…."
Fabien became very still. "What about that?" Elena saw the muscles in his arms and jaw tighten as he waited for her to answer.
"It's happened." She told her toes at last.
He shifted his stance to a more balanced one, like he was preparing for combat. "It has, has it? How can you be so sure?" Elena swallowed and raised her eyes to meet his. Where his deep green eyes were normally soft and filled with light, they had gone hard and dark. His jaw was set firmly, his easy smile replaced with a tight line. His thick eyebrows furrowed. He looked intimidating and not just because he was head and shoulders over her, or twice her size, but because every line of him spoke of a quiet, inevitable anger she sought to ignore that had bubbled beneath the surface for the past three years.
"I'm so sure because he said he loves me and…" She watched him carefully. He was coiled tight like a spring. He raised an eyebrow, encouraging her to continue. She took a breath, "And he kissed me."
Several emotions flickered across his face like heat lightning. Fury, despair, outrage, heartbreak… "That–That's wonderful news." He forced out, his voice cracking just a little. "Just wonderful. Looks like we don't have to get married after all." He swallowed and pulled her into a hug. "Oh. I'm so happy. Just. So. Happy." He said against her hair, tightening his arms around her. She buried her face into his chest, returning the hug. She didn't deserve him anyway. Even in the throes of heartbreak he was still hers. "If you'll excuse me. I really do need to get back into my armor. Frakes is probably ready to be flipped by now."
"Wait. That's it?"
"Yes. Elena. That was the agreement."
"You're really OK with it?"
Fabien heaved a sigh, "Elena. Not now. I'm serious. Frakes is due for a break and I've got to go relieve him. It's like standing on the surface of the sun in this new armor. Would you have me risk a man's health to have this fully out with you here and now?"
Elena blushed and stepped back. "No."
"Then… let me go. You and I will…whatever it is we have to do later." He took a deep breath and stepped past her. "Just. Let me go. Please." Elena could hear the crack in his voice and see it in the drop in his shoulders, but she didn't press the issue. He was right. Now was not the time to fully lay it all out, but the first steps had been taken. There was no going back.