by Lexi Johnson
“I can’t leave my brother like that -- thinking I’m dead or worse. I just can’t,” Sade said. She met his eyes, her own full of determination. “You have to take me back to where we came through,” she said. “The gate comes every full moon, Nana said. I’ll just wait for it.”
The thought of her leaving was agony. It was all Aranion could do to keep his thoughts focused, and his voice calm, as he tried to explain: “Wild gates don’t work that way. It could reappear at another place -- past the forest. Or in the Bane Sidhe lands, even.”
“That’s it, then? No options? There has to be something we can do.” Sade had started to shake again.
Sade’s emotions were consuming Aranion’s mind, making it almost impossible for the elf to think. He wanted to take her into his arms and dampen her pain. But the burden of carrying her distress and anxiety on top of his own was making it impossible for Aranion to do anything more than hold her hands in his – though he doubted that even that was helping much. Just as her fear and pain were heightening his, Aranion’s emotions must also be magnifying hers, amplifying them back to her in a loop.
Thankfully, Meldigur still had a level head. He said: “The best thing for both of you is to return to the Sidhe court.” They turned to look at him.
“There is a captured gate in the temple,” he went on. “You can speak with the priests -- they understand gates better than any of us. And…” He exchanged a meaningful glance with Aranion. “… since that’s where we have to go anyway, it’s really the only solution.”
Sade looked at Meldigur, and then back at Aranion. “Is that right?” she asked.
Aranion nodded. “The priests are the only ones who truly understand how the gates work; how to hold them captive, and direct them to the Gods’ will.” But they would have to speak with the priests quickly. For every sunrise here, who knew how many days were passing in the mortal world?
Sade’s fear was easing, if only a little. Aranion found himself also calming.
With each moment, the soul bond brought them closer and closer together.
He couldn’t stand the thought of letting Sade go. But he also couldn’t escape the grief and guilt she was feeling about leaving her family.
The Gods had a cruel sense of humor, that was sure. Why else would they have bonded by soul two people so ill-suited to be together?
Chapter 7: An Elven Bath
This was not a strange dream, nor even a nightmare. Sade knew that, because you could wake up from nightmares.
And, in spite of everything, the warmth of Aranion’s hands around hers was still compelling.
‘More fool you, Sade,’ she thought, and raised the cup of soup to her lips, effectively dislodging him.
Sade gulped down the dregs of her now lukewarm soup as Aranion packed his few meager possessions.
Sade just couldn’t imagine never seeing her brother again. Mama’s accident had been hard enough, in part because she’d lingered. Even when she and Charles had agreed, together, three weeks later, to turn the respirator off, Sade had been praying the whole time for a miracle that never came.
The pain had pulled the siblings together, while at the same time pushing them farther apart. It was why Charles had moved away – he had said he needed to “get some space from the whole thing.” But that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t notice when Sade stopped picking up her phone.
She would never have followed Aranion through that gate if she’d thought that it meant walking away from everything she knew and cared about. Aside from one night of unbelievable sex, what did she know about Aranion, anyway? That he was an elven prince who had run away from a forced marriage to a sadist?
And yet… after only this one night and day, she couldn’t imagine life without him. To feel this intense a connection to a man she’d known less than a day was terrifying. She didn’t want this, she thought – the intelligent part of her really didn’t want this. But at the same time, it wasn’t as if she had a choice about what she wanted.
Buck up, Sade, she told herself. You’ll find a way through this. There’s always a way through.
Finishing her soup, she handed the empty cup to Aranion, who promptly tossed it onto the ground. “It’ll return to its own form in time,” he said, absently.
Sade nodded, already turning her thoughts to more significant things.
It was more important than she had ever imagined that she make a good impression on the Elven King -- and she looked like a mess. She wished she had some way to get herself clean, and do something with her hair, at the very least. But failing that, she simply put it in a rough braid, smoothing down the halo of frizz that always seemed to blossom from her temples no matter how recently she’d had her hair relaxed. She decided she wasn’t even going to think about how terrible she must smell. Meldigur watched her beauty routine with interest. Sade wasn’t sure if that bothered her.
Aranion had finished gathering his things from the tree hollow that had been, very briefly, their home. Clearly, it was time to leave.
Sade asked, “How long will it take us to walk to the castle?”
“Castle?” Meldigur laughed. “Walk! You mortals are so odd.”
Sade wanted to smack the condescending amusement from Meldigur’s face, but Aranion put a hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t mind him,” Aranion said. “He’s always had more humor than sense.”
Meldigur shrugged. “If by that you mean I don’t choose to spend my years in a cloud of earnest despair, then, certainly, yes.”
Sade looked at Meldigur carefully. He was slightly thinner than Aranion, and half a head taller, too. His body was all whipcord muscle over fine bones, his hair a burnished gold, in contrast to Aranion’s moonlight silver. Both elves were pale, graceful, and possessed of a beauty that compelled full attention.
For Sade, Meldigur’s looks held no candle to Aranion’s, but had she met Meldigur first, she would have found him attractive… at least, until he opened his mouth.
“Ignore him,” Aranion told her. “What he was trying to say is that even a Bane Sidhe wouldn’t bind themselves in a cave of dirt and rock. Our people live in the branches of the World Trees, far above the earth. Most live their lives without ever setting a foot upon the ground.”
“So…” Sade ventured. “Does that mean we have to climb?”
“Hardly,” said Meldigur. “Since I’ve no need for stealth, I can simply use a homecoming spell.”
Aranion reacted quickly. “Sade and I must speak with my father before we are seen by anyone else in the court,” he said firmly. “An interrogation would be…difficult.”
He took his silver knife from his belt. In one quick motion, he sliced free a hunk of his pale, shining hair. “Hide us somewhere in the court,” he said. “Give this to my father. And have him come to us.”
Meldigur said warningly, “You’ve given your word you won’t run.”
“And I won’t,” Aranion assured him. “But this requires the greatest delicacy. Please -- as my bond-brother, will you do this for me?”
Meldigur sighed.
“I’ll take you both to my home,” he said. “It’s already been thoroughly searched, so you should be safe there. And I’ll do my best to persuade your father. But, as you know as well as I do, the King follows his own rules. We dance the steps of his choosing.”
Aranion nodded, and handed the hair to Meldigur who, with a flick of his fingers, made it disappear.
Even a few hours ago, Sade would have marveled at the trick. But now she was too tired, too confused, and too scared to care. Magic was real, then. Wouldn’t Charles be surprised?
Sade shook her head. No, better not to think of Charles.
“Are you ready?” Aranion asked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“As ready as I’m going to be,” Sade said. “Let’s get this done.”
Meldigur nodded. He walked to an open space between two trees. Holding his arm out straight,
he carved a large circle in the air with his finger.
A line of liquid light followed his movement. And, when he had completed the circle -- the center fell away. It was like looking through a clear window, into another place. Although, unlike the gate that had brought Sade here, Meldigur’s portal didn’t shimmer or move at all.
On the other side of the window there seemed to be a common space of some kind: a floor made from a patchwork of woods, with colorful throw pillows scattered around. Beyond, a break between brightly flowering branches showed what seemed to be an endless vista of treetops. The sun shone brightly; its rays passing through the portal and struck the mossy ground with shocking brilliance.
It was beautiful.
Meldigur gave an ironic grin, and waved them toward the portal with an exaggerated flourish.
Aranion stepped through first. Sade followed.
The room smelled of flowers, and birdsong filled the air.
Sade stood close to Aranion, and suddenly reached for his hand as what she’d assumed to be flowers started hopping about the tree branches, flexing their wings and chattering to each other.
Meldigur stepped in behind them, and the portal closed.
Sade looked around the elf’s home in amazement. She’d never seen anything like it before. For one thing, it was so open! She supposed that, this high up, mosquitoes wouldn’t be a problem (if they were a problem for elves at all!) But this room didn’t even have windows. What if it rained?
The birds seemed to have open run of the place, although, at least, they kept to the branches that served as the room’s borders. Sade glanced down at the floor. It didn’t seem as if they were relieving themselves inside -- a profound relief.
Of course, the only explanation for this had to be magic. Which meant that Sade was totally out of her league.
Meldigur waved his hand again. On a short, round table in the middle of the floor, a tray of sliced fruits appeared, alongside a cup of nuts and a flask that held some kind of beverage. Even though they’d just eaten, Sade was startled to find herself ravenously hungry again. She eyed the plate of food longingly.
“Eat,” Meldigur said. “We may have covered the distance in an eyeblink, but your body feels the strain. Especially those of mortals.”
Not waiting for further permission, and grateful for the offer, Sade went to the table, dropped slightly awkwardly onto a cushion, and started to eat.
Some of the fruits vaguely resembled ones she knew. There was something soft and light orange, like cantaloupe, and something else green that had the texture and heaviness of a watermelon. To Sade’s delight, the nuts tasted like coconut almonds. She tossed a handful into her mouth and crunched them joyfully.
She hadn’t realized that her hunger had been making her feel ill until she’d begun to eat, and the nausea lifted. Though Aranion and Meldigur were quite casual about it, they too ate heartily, which made Sade feel better. At least it wasn’t just her.
She did find herself hoping that the elves had more substantial food for their major meals. If this was their staple fare, Sade could see why Aranion and Meldigur were both so thin.
When Sade had finished, and was licking fruit juice from her fingers, Meldigur said to her and Aranion:
“Make yourselves comfortable. Upstairs I have a bath area where you can both get cleaned up,” he added, “and take care of your private needs. Unfortunately, Sade, I will have to alter some of my older clothes to fit you, until Aranion works out things with his father. But it’ll still be better than those ill-fitting rags you’ve been wearing.”
Ill-fitting rags? Sade tried not to look annoyed. She hadn’t exactly been dressed for a party when she’d crossed over, but her yoga pants and T-shirt weren’t rags, and they fit just fine. Still, it was better to keep her mouth shut – she didn’t want to seem to spit on Meldigur’s hospitality. He did seem to be doing his best to help them out, and for that Sade had to be grateful.
So she only said, “Thank you.”
Aranion said, “It’s midday, and my father will be meeting with his council for at least a few hours. That would be a good place to start,”
“Ahh, yes,” said Meldigur. “The council. A more boring group I’ve never had the misfortune of meeting.”
Aranion frowned. “Just…don’t make a scene.”
“Me?” Meldigur grinned.
Sade didn’t like the look of it, but before she could protest, Meldigur said again, “Make yourselves comfortable. You’ll have at least a couple of hours. I’ll lay clothes out for both of you, on the upstairs bedding.”
He did as promised, and then made ready to go. Before he left, he admonished them both again not to go outside or call attention to themselves.
“And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he added, with a wink and a wave. Then he stepped off the edge of the room.
Sade ran to where he’d jumped. Of course, she knew he wouldn’t be stupid enough to accidentally kill himself by jumping out of his own house! But still, she stared, disturbed, out over the breathtaking vista, half-afraid she might see some sign that he’d fallen through the canopy of trees below.
“He’s fine,” Aranion said, stepping up behind her. After a moment, he placed his large, warm hands on her hips. “Mel just likes to show off,” he said quietly, near her ear. “He hasn’t had an audience so quickly impressed in decades.”
Decades? Sade found herself wondering about that. How old was Aranion, anyway? He didn’t act old, nor did he look old. But then again, how would she know what an old elf looked like, anyway?
Though, on the other hand, Sade doubted that he would be on the run from his family and an arranged marriage, if he was very old by the standards of his people.
She found it hard to focus her thoughts on such matters, though. Now that they were alone again, Sade couldn’t ignore the powerful attraction Aranion’s presence lit in her.. The touch of his hands on her hips reminded her of the time they’d spent together last night in the hollowed tree. He’d taken her to heights of pleasure beyond her dreams… and, more than that, the way he had owned her body made her want him to take and use every part of her again. It created an expectancy between them.
“I need to get clean,” Sade said.
“Yes,” said Aranion. “I, too.”
He pulled her back from the ledge and into his arms.
She turned, for a brief moment thinking to step away. But then her eyes met Aranion’s storm-blue gaze, and all she wanted to do was kiss him.
She lifted her chin, her lips parting, and he took the hint, lowering his head and claiming her mouth. They kissed, and the pleasure of it coursed straight through Sade’s body. Aranion must have felt it too, because his grip tightened, and he started walking backward, pulling her along.
“This will be better done in the bath,” Aranion said, his breath tickling her lips.
Sade was too addled with lust to notice how they made it up to the second floor -- it some kind of circular staircase? -- but even in her haze of desire, she couldn’t help but gape when they made it into the bathing room itself. The room was closed off by a thick wall of entwined vines and branches. Some of the vines gave off a warm, ethereal glow that bathed the room in comfortable light.
How had Meldigur managed to fit an entire hot tub into a tree? Sade had no idea, but the smooth, gleaming wood and the inviting pool of steaming water enticed her.
She quickly stripped off her dirty clothing, leaving it in a pile on the patchwork wood floor. Aranion did the same.
On the side of the tub sat two large, wooden bowls. “It’s traditional to clean ourselves first, before we enter,” Aranion explained.
He knelt beside the pool and picked up one of the bowls. Holding it with both hands, he dipped it into the water, filling it, and then poured the contents over his head. Water streamed down his face, hair and shoulders, making him shine with fey beauty.
Sade longed to run her fingers over the stre
ams where the water had fallen, to explore the dips and valleys of his body with her tongue.
Aranion looked up at her. His irises had been reduced to a ring of storm blue. “Come to me,” he said.
His look was fierce, possessive, and Sade let herself be drawn in by it, closing the distance between them, and kneeling by his side.
She lifted her hands her head to undo her braid. But Aranion pushed them away. “Let me,” he said.
He moved so that he knelt behind her. He ran his hands along her temples and then back, lifting her braid, and laying a tender kiss on the nape of her neck. Then, with deft movements, he unbraided her hair.
As tangled as it was, his fingers should have gotten caught in a knot somewhere, pulling at her scalp, but nothing of the sort happened. Her hair came free, falling in uncertain waves to her shoulders.
Aranion lifted it up, pulling it back, and kissed her fiercely down her neck. Sade shivered. At her backside, she could feel the rising strength of his desire. The heat rising from the bath—the largest bath she’d ever seen—combined with the heat of him was dizzying.
The peril of their situation formed in sudden, sharp reality in her mind. Here in this beautiful room, it was easy to forget, but their situation was still all too dangerous. What if Aranion was still forced to marry, despite his soul-bond to her? Or, worse, what if the other elves discovered that Aranion had crossed the border into her world – a terrible crime -- and he was sentenced to a horrible death?
Either Sade had known Aranion – at least in some sense -- since that day in her Nana’s garden, or only she’d only known him for a day. But in either case, she couldn’t, nor did she want to, imagine life without him. What if these were their last moments together?
The urgency grew as they rocked together by the side of the bath. Aranion touched her everywhere, running light fingers over her collarbone, circling her breasts and pinching her nipples, giving just the right amount of pain to temper the relentless pleasure of his presence. She was wet, dripping in her need. Sade trembled at his touch until she couldn’t take it any more, and then turned around, grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled him down for a bruising kiss.
