by Alice Wade
* * * *
He drifted, floating in black sea of nothingness. No sounds, no feelings, no body. The only thing anchoring him to any sense of reality was his connection to Kai; a powerful lodestone that floated somewhere in this abyss with him.
He floated in nothingness for an indiscriminate period of time without any sense of up or down, left or right. He couldn’t even tell where his body began or ended, and remained in this state of limbo for what felt like eternity.
Something disturbed his serenity. A sound roused him from his detached mental state, followed by a sharp pain in his side that became annoying. His mind desperately wanted to retreat back into the nothingness, but the pull was there. The need to emerge consuming. He wanted the annoyance go away in order to drift aimlessly once more.
He drifted closer to consciousness and a new feeling emerged. A fire burned in his veins. A searing pain that charred his nerves causing him to clench his jaw. Pain. Mentally, he flinched back and sank deeper into the abyss of nothingness. As he went deeper to avoid the pain. The lower he sank the more the dry burn at the back of his throat faded to nothing.
Something tugged him up again. Lured him was a better word. He was powerless to fight against the warmth that infused his body. It eased the burning dryness and gave him strength. It was succulent. He got closer to awareness and felt a liquid filled his mouth, taking more of the burn away immediately. He decided to linger here until the flow of addicting fluid ceased.
He choked. Shooting pain from his side that ripped a silent scream from his mouth,
He sensed mumbled voices, spots of light, feather-light touches on what he remembered was his face. But the pain still remained and he fled to the darkness and let the blissful nothingness erase the agony. Sinking into the darkness was Nirvana and he sighed. The pain was gone. At peace once more he floated, holding onto the tether that he knew was his mate, his other half.
“I think he’s coming round.” Cuilwen announced to the Dunai that she thought she heard Talon moan. Cuilwen had just removed her arm from Talon’s mouth and was holding a bandage over the shallow cut she’d made to feed blood down Talon’s partially opened mouth. As she finished, she swore he moaned.
The woman approached and after touching his fever-flushed face, she sadly shook her head. He wasn’t coming around. “I know what I heard,” Cuilwen mumbled looking back to her friend. “I know you’re there, you ass,” she said affectionately.
From the moment they returned, the People honored Athradien, welcoming him home with feasts and parties. He was a regular guest at Daerwen’s table and spent much of his time retelling what had befallen him, giving extra attention to the honor of Talon and the healing skills of his bonded.
Cuilwen avoided those gatherings. She spent her time here, in this room, tending Kailani and Talon round the clock. It wasn’t that she doubted the Dunai’s. She felt obligated to be here, fixated on their care and being here when they woke up. She fed them her blood as often as she could and helped bathe them when they needed refreshment.
Cuilwen resented the attention and merrymaking that Daerwen allowed and cursed the man for not being here with her. This was his son! She didn’t want parties and didn’t want to celebrate. She wanted Talon back. Daerwen should too.
As she looked down at Talon’s peaceful face once more, she prayed she was right and that he had almost woke. Her eyes traced his handsome face, noting his hair needed trimming again, she recalled her emotional conversation with Daerwen three weeks past. “He’ll remember.” She whispered, “I have faith he’ll remember.”
She drifted in the memory while she gently stroked Talon’s cheek.
Daerwen had approached her one evening when she was taking a break from her care and invited her to sit with him on his nightly vigil at the shoreline. He said nothing at first but finally removed a trinket from his pocket and placed it in her opened hand.
“Cuilwen, I’m sorry you are angry. I too wish time to speed up and mend all that has transpired, but we must be patient.” He closed her fist on the medallion that held frozen the tiny handprint of Talon as a young boy.
She allowed a small sob to escape before she looked up and met his wet eyes, “I don’t understand.”
Daerwen looked out over the ocean before he answered, “Cuilwen, you’ve been harassing me for five hundred years and accusing me of not caring for the son I once had. Demanding to know how I could turn my back on the one being I cherished most of all,” he paused then his stunningly handsome face swiveled to hers, “I still won’t answer your demands for those thoughts are mine to share with Talon alone,” he indicated the sea and the medallion. When he fidgeted and looked back into her eyes, she knew nothing had changed, “I ask you this now, think of the People, think of their ability to adjust. Athradien is returned and they need to honor him, even if the Cûrion lies fighting for his life at the moment. The People must move on, dear. You can’t stop the world for one tragedy; otherwise all we know will fall apart. I ask you to shed your anger and your frustration in order to try and understand my actions. I’m not doing this to be cold or heartless, which has been your main argument of me all these years. I need to ensure that life is balanced and all beings are taken care of. I need you to see that.”
He cupped his hand over hers that still clutched the medallion, “Keep this safe while you sit with him. Hopefully it will bring you comfort in the coming days to find your calmness and lead our People ahead, not keep them stagnant in the present. Whatever happens to the Cûrion now is out of control, dear warrior. A lesson we both must accept.”
Cuilwen still felt intense anger that he still refused to address Talon by his name, but grudgingly accepted his logic towards the People. They were removed from her sorrow, but could share in Athradien’s joy. Who was she to stop them? “I’m sorry.”
He had moved back to watching the sea, “Watch the waves, Cuilwen. They are very soothing.”
She laughed and leaned into his shoulder until he wrapped his arm about her and they sat quietly in silent reflection until he finally cleared his throat. “I always find the sea to remind me of him. Wild, dangerous, but strong and consistent. Talon was all these things to me. Mostly, my son always brought me peace when he was around, even when he was being a monster when young. He was my life, Cuilwen. This view, right here, reminds me of how he made me feel when he was here.”
She could not hold back all her emotions, especially not after having this conversation. It was the closest spoken word on the topic they’d had where he wasn’t ordering her from his sight. She let her tears fall into her lap as all the regrets from the past washed over her, then turned to her leader, “You could have him back, Daerwen. You could. He is not much changed, I know. I’ve seen his heart and can say with confidence, he is not tainted. He is still your son,” she held up the medallion before his face and shook it.
Daerwen’s face contorted into an anguished frown. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply to manage his composure before he replied. When he did, she felt her hopes dashed, “No, First Maiden. My son is dead.” He then rose and touched her cheek before he slowly wandered down the cliff path towards his home and left Cuilwen on the bench gripping the tiny handprint of her dear friend.
After that night, she’d relaxed on her animosity towards the celebrations and allowed the normal progression of life to take place. She sat with Talon and Kailani for hours, holding their hands, talking with them and at times giving them her blood. At one point, she had Athradien help move their cots closer together and placed their slack hands in each others, hoping that this would bring them back to them.
Nothing worked. Except for this little moan she knows she heard and it was there, they both lay quietly wrapped in the own cocoon of healing. Cuilwen checked on Kailani and found no change either; she was still feverish, as her wounds were infected from the vampire talons. She knew Kailani fought fo
r her life and hoped she’d eventually emerge from this coma. Some never do, but she hoped these two would.
Athradien stayed with her most of the time, leaning against the door or bringing her food since she refused to leave. She was looking wasted, tired. “Love, a walk will do you good. Come, it’s a nice evening and the stars are out. Let’s take a moment to get out of this room for just a short while. I promise, you can come right back.” He was getting worried and watched her care for these two with a devotion that bordered on obsession.
The look she shot him said it all, she wouldn’t leave.
“Cuilwen, I was only asking to be nice. Now I’m ordering. You will leave this room. My love, this is not healthy. Let the Dunai care for them. Please?”
There was something in his voice that hit a chord and Cuilwen hung her head, “What if they wake when I’m gone?”
“Then you can greet them when you return,” he replied softly, his voice full of compassion.
He read her conflict easily and pulled her to her feet to stand eye level with him, “Just a little while. That is all I ask.”
“Ath, I,” she faltered while looking down at the sleeping face of Talon.
“Love, you can’t heal him any more than the Dunai. You can’t bring him back like you did me. You have to let him fight for himself and come back to us when he’s ready. You sitting here is definitely not the missing piece.” Athradien hugged her, placing his lips gently against her forehead and enjoyed a moment of contact with her. She’d been distracted and he wasn’t about to come between those lingering feelings and his desire to explore her body for his own selfish reasons. He’s waited all this time; he could wait a little longer.
“All right, I could use a bath too.” She spoke her words with a functional intent, but when she looked up, she saw Athradien for the first time in days–really saw him. He was watching her with a deep concern in his green eyes and his voice was strained as if he were trying very hard to be patient. Cuilwen unexpectedly felt guilty for her obsession with staying in this room for she’d been ignoring the one man who had endured torture to finally get the courage to love her. He stood there, still waiting for her and that broke her heart. Cuilwen cocked her head to the side, suddenly feeling flirty and asked, “Interested in coming along?”
Athradien felt his body stiffen painfully at the offer and groaned when he pulled her forward to pleasantly grind his answer into her soft succulent body. His strong hands gripped her waist digging his fingers into the flesh while his mouth lightly glazed over her lips, “Mm, I think I would be very interested in a bath.”
Cuilwen leaned into his embrace, allowing herself relax and forgot Talon for a moment. Athradien felt so wonderful against her skin and the heat that raced through her body from that contact caused her insides to melt. Each time he shifted, rubbing her with his arousal, she would moan, arching her back when his mouth found its way to her neck.
“Athradien, you should really stop that,” she said in a low heated tone.
He stepped back quickly and ran his hand through his strawberry blonde hair, tucking loose strands behind his pointed ears. His voice and body language screamed his guilt, and when he whispered, “Sorry.” Cuilwen laughed.
It was a soft sound, rare of late but a laugh nonetheless. She immediately led him from the room, “Don’t be sorry, just take me somewhere else when you do it,” she teased. “Come on; you wanted to rescue me from this room, so ‘rescue me’.”
Athradien stopped at the door and watched her in stunned silence. She had fantastically ruined his ability to remain in control yet again! Cuilwen was walking slowly away down the graveled path towards her quarters but looked demurely over her shoulder with seductively lidded eyes, “Coming?”
He hopped forward and jogged to catch up. The joy he felt at that moment overshadowed anything else, especially the worry he felt for the two lost souls that lay fighting for their life in the room he left behind.
On some level deep in his abyss of darkness, Talon heard their joy and his lips curved into a small smile.
* * * *
Talon, his name was Talon. Pain dully throbbed all over his body. He could now feel the edges of—from his toes to his finger tips, which he wiggled to demonstrate their presence. Another sensation that became crystal clear was the feeling of a bed beneath him and the soft breeze that tickled his skin. A strangle cry bubbled up from his chest sending more pain but it needed to be set free. He moan escaped his lips.
The pain that exploded from that sound in combination with the sensation of breathing caused him to gasp, inhaling a gulp of air into his lungs that protested at such a large intake of breath. Still Talon fought for awareness. He was so close to the light that he didn’t want to fall back into the darkness, and he continued to claw his way back. He was ready.
One last breath and his eyes shot open at the same time his hands flexed to grip the sheets beneath his fingers; gripped for dear life because that feeling was the last bit that held him in the light and prevented him from sinking back.
The double vision of the wood beams in the ceiling merged into a solid picture and something about their design tickled his memory but he could not place it. More sensation assaulted him as he emerged from the darkness. Smells that were enticing his palate sent a burning dryness in the back of his throat, causing him to swallow a few times to wet his mouth, to no avail.
Talon started to panic because he had no idea what was happening to him or where he was. This caused him to frantically gulp to ease the dryness that was beginning to burn the back of his throat. His only comfort was the fabric of the sheets clenched in his fingers and he continued to cling to this awareness. Continued to cling to the light.
“Would you like some water?”
Talon panicked and turned his head in surprise. That voice undeniably belonged to his father but he must be hallucinating for his father would not be here. Talon’s eyes were clouded with confusion and tinged with fear while he regarded the handsome elf sitting casually in a chair, reading a book.
“Water?” Daerwen asked again, using his finger as a placeholder while he closed it to watch his son return to them. It took a strict discipline not to react to the fact his son was waking from a coma. He needed to be calm and relaxed, but his insides were a storm of emotions. He wanted to scream, holler and run screaming that Talon had woken.
Talon tried to speak but his throat was too dry so nodded. Daerwen rose, collected a glass and filled it. With tender care, he helped Talon lift his head and drink, careful not to cause any more pain.
Talon cleared his scratchy throat, “Where am I?”
“You are in elven lands, brought here to heal,” Daerwen replied.
Images of the final battle flashed suddenly in Talon’s mind like a whirlwind. The last tortured imaged he remembered was Kailani being cut down by Deandra…Kailani…Oh no, where was she? He struggled to rise but Daerwen held him in place with a strong but gentle hand, forcing him back down onto the bed.
“I must find her. Where is Kai?” Talon was about to panic because he could still see the bloody image of his mate screaming his name as Kaen was about to…to…His hand touched his throat and he realized Kaen didn’t complete that stroke. “Oh, no. What has happened?” he moaned as the agony of those images played through his mind over and over.
Daerwen patted his shoulder twice then returned to the chair. Once seated, legs crossed, he regarded his son with a serene posture that spoke of acceptance. “From what I understand, you both fell but a young human by the name of Dace arrived and delivered the final strike to both opponents. Quite impressive until I learned you’d authorized a Maldë and he was using borrowed elven magic from Cuilwen’s sword,” there was no denying the distain that colored his words.
Talon closed his eyes. Shite.
“Peace. That decision saved the lives of thousands,
including that of you and your mate.”
“I ask forgiveness for that,” he said with a softness that spoke of redemption. He knew that decision was dangerous but he would make it again if faced with the same situation.
“Peace, I’m not that angry. Impressed is a better word. I have since had Cuilwen tested for it seems her strengths have been severely overlooked.” Daerwen’s look turned introspective, “This Dace also intrigues me, I must confess. I’ve never heard mention of any human being strong enough to manage our enchantments to such as degree before. Very interesting, indeed. So no, I’m not angry.”
Talon opened one blue eye and peaked at his father. What he read indeed wasn’t anger, but masked respect. “Where is she?” he demanded, still single-mindedly focused on Kailani. All this chatter about enchantments and humans was meaningless.
“Here, with us. The Dunai are bathing her at the moment, but she will return shortly. I was sitting with you while they were gone.”
“How is—” he couldn’t finish the entire question. How is it that we are here and you are allowing her to stay?
“She is beautiful. Kailani is her name?” Daerwen asked casually, as if this were an everyday conversation.
Talon felt his heart lurch as the mention of her name and nodded.
“She has not emerged yet, but continues to fight valiantly. Her fever was severe due to the vile toxin of that vampire, and it has posed a vicious battle to get the upper hand. Although, your wounds were greater, so if the healers could bring you back from the brink of death, I’m confident she will follow shortly.”
Talon’s relief washed through him and the tears overwhelmed his eyes for the moment. Wetness leaked from the corners to pool on the mattress beneath his head, but he didn’t move or try to wipe them. He could not believe Kai would have survived that attack. Deandra was cruel in attentions and the damage was extensive.
