by J D Abbas
Silvandir breathed a sigh of relief then frowned. “I hope it’s not me you fear.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “I would never hurt you or force myself on you.” He cradled her face and gazed into her eyes. She felt his longing for her to believe him, for her to trust him.
“I know. It’s not you I fear, but ...but being with you.” She had difficulty finding words to express what she meant. “There has been so much damage. I have only learned how to be with a man by going away somewhere inside. I’m terrified to be touched ... like that. I want to love you ... in every way ... but I don’t know if I’m able.” She stared at the floor, as her body began to tremble with a cold that came from the inside.
“Tell me, Elena.” He gripped her hands again, his thumbs tracing slow circles. “You don’t need to spare my feelings.”
“When...when that creature took your guise...” She stalled. Silvandir squeezed her hands. “When he told me that he wouldn’t hurt me, that... that he loved me, I wanted to give in. I wanted to be loved like he said.” Her tears hit the floor with a splash. “But I couldn't stop the terror, and... and for the first time I felt what it was like to be present when he—but I couldn’t stay, even with the command of Rakshad, which should have prevented a shift. I-I don’t think it’s possible for me.” Her chest shuddered.
Silvandir cupped her face and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks, his jaw tense and twitching as if angry. She couldn’t hold his gaze but focused on the far wall. “Perhaps the terror was there because someone was still taking from you. You didn’t have a choice or freedom to refuse. It wasn’t love, no matter what he said.”
He wiggled her chin. “Please look at me.”
When she raised her eyes and met his gaze, she saw a tenderness that shook her to the core. “Elena, we’ll find our way together. You have only known intimate acts connected with abuse and pain, never love. I have only known them in carousing and rebellion. Together I want us to find the love and pleasure that ought to be there when lovers embrace with pure motives. I will never push you or ask you to do anything that requires you to ‘go away.’ I want you fully with me, even if that means we only lie side by side. If you are in my arms, I will be content.”
The shudder in her chest turned into gut wrenching sobs. “I don’t deserve you.”
“No, it is I who doesn’t deserve you.” He pulled her into his arms again. “I am being given a second chance and with the most beautiful, incredible woman.” He smiled down at her. “And a lord’s daughter, no less.” He winked.
Elena laughed and shook her head. “How did I manage to take this wonderful moment and turn it into such a somber and dark time? Perhaps we should try this again.” She gave him a mischievous grin.
When he nodded, she said, “My answer is yes.”
Chuckling, Silvandir lifted her with his massive arms, this time high over his head as if she were just a small child, and spun her around. Elena threw her head back and laughed.
He set her back on her feet. “I believe this is where I asked if I could kiss you.” He arched a brow.
She tipped her head as if considering then gave a quick nod.
He cupped her face in his hands, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs as he gazed into her eyes, this time with tears spilling from his. He pressed his lips into hers with more depth and passion than the first time. Somehow, it became a vastly different experience. The acceptance and relief she felt added to the celebration of his touch. A new and unexpectedly pleasant warmth spread through her body.
A groan rumbled through Silvandir’s chest, and he pulled back, breathing raggedly. He leaned his forehead against hers and grinned. After a deep breath, he reached down and laid his hand on the baby, his smile broadening.
A burning sensation blossomed across her belly, and it felt as if her womb twisted. Elena jumped back, startled. “What’s in your touch?”
Silvandir frowned. “What do you mean?”
“When you put your hand on my belly, there was a sensation almost like fire passing through me. I noticed it earlier when you touched her too. Only this time, it was stronger.” When she saw the hurt on his face, she reached for his hand. “It’s not a bad thing, just strange.”
She laid his hand back on the small swell. It happened again, jolting her whole body this time. Silvandir recoiled, shaking his hand. “I felt that.”
“Perhaps it’s best if you don’t touch her again ... for a while. At least until we understand what’s happening.”
Silvandir nodded, though he seemed troubled, the joy of the moment lost again.
Chapter 24
When Silvandir and Elena returned to Celdorn’s chamber, they found the preparations for the group’s travels nearly complete. Elena spied Mikaelin slipping out through the terrace door as soon as they entered. Her throat tightened.
“We’ll leave within the hour,” Celdorn told them. “Silvandir, I’d like you to speak with Zhalor. Tell him to assemble the Ilqazar that will travel with us and meet us at the north end of the caves. Have them use the mountain trails to avoid any watching eyes.”
“Yes, sir.” Silvandir squeezed Elena’s hand and kissed the top of her head before departing.
“Little one, Braiden packed your things, but you may want to make certain nothing’s been forgotten. It’s not likely you’ll return here any time soon.”
Elena’s heart grew heavy. This was the only true home she’d ever known. The thought of leaving it behind grieved her. Though she’d only been here a few months, it seemed a lifetime had been compacted into that span. In many ways she’d been born again ... and again within these walls. Tears blurred her vision. She’d felt so safe here—and so terrified ... so loved—and so alone.
Elena glanced around at the frenetic activity in Celdorn’s room and swallowed hard. Celdorn had told her earlier that the nine men of his inner circle, who had been Elena’s constant guardians for the last few months, would accompany her to Queyon. Celdorn seemed to think it was important that they travel as a whole with no others accompanying them. That helped to ease some of her distress.
The men from Marach who still remained at Kelach would precede them by half a day and be their vanguard. They would use the main thoroughfares and draw the attention of any watching eyes while scouting for evidence of the enemy. The other half of the Marach company had been sent ahead to meet up with those transporting the children through the valley. Apparently, they would all join together before crossing the Pallanors, and Elena would have her first opportunity to meet the rescued children.
Elena pondered all this as she made her way to the antechamber. When she entered her room, she stared at the bed where she’d nearly died, twice, and where Mikaelin had traveled to death’s door so recently—and where he confessed the love he later retracted. She knelt and caressed the rough blanket. Her chest constricted as memories replayed. Gathering the bedding into her arms, her thoughts turned to her most faithful friend. She buried her face in the blanket, searching for Sasha’s scent. “I miss you so much,” she whispered. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you by my side. Who will I share my heart with during the lonely watches of the night? I didn’t even get to tell you about Mikaelin or Silvandir.” Elena smiled to herself. “I think you would have chosen Silvandir too. He was so good to you, and I know how much you loved him.”
Elena was tempted to enter her inner world to see if Sasha was still with Gia, but the fear that her father might be waiting there stopped her. That wasn’t real anyway. It was just her heart trying to hang on to her friend.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to heal you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you at the end. I hope you weren’t too scared.” Then the tears flooded. She hunched over the bed and smothered her noisy sobs with the blanket.
Finally the calm of exhaustion came. Celdorn was right: the tears always stopped at some point. They’d come again, but not today. She drew a deep breath and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Resolutely, she stood, turned her back on t
he bed, and moved to the wardrobe. Inside were the dresses that Celdorn had had specially made for her. The journey to Queyon required functional clothing, and these were certainly not that, she thought as she caressed the delicate fabric. She had truly felt like a lady when she’d worn them, a princess even.
A whore dressed in a gown does not a briochella make, any more than a toad with a crown makes him a king, Anakh’s voice cackled.
Elena spun around, expecting to find Anakh behind her, but no one was there.
You were born a whore, and you will die a whore. No costume can change your destiny.
“Be quiet!” Elena put her hands over her ears. “You’re a liar.”
But the voice came from inside her head and could not be silenced. I am the only one who tells you the truth. You were born to be used and die, and now your life will bring death to all those around you. Destruction, devastation, and death—that is your future and the future of all who choose to assist you.
“No, I don’t believe you. I know differently now. The Jhadhela is growing in me.”
Well done, Yaena. Stand strong. Yaelmargon’s voice was equally loud, coming from within.
Other voices joined in the argument. Elena squeezed her head. There was too much noise. Chaos. She was slipping...sliding toward the edge of the abyss of insanity waiting to embrace her.
Move! The urge and command from within was like a powerful jolt.
Elena glanced around the room.
Do something. Change your clothes. Focus.
She shook her head and with a few stomps of her feet to ground her pulled her attention back to the room. On the chair next to the bed, Braiden had laid out clothes for the journey. She focused on them. Men’s clothes, riding clothes, not the cream and brown worn within the keep, but the dark wool and leathers that made the men look like shadows as they moved. The thought sent a chill through her.
Celdorn’s company would dress humbly so as not to draw undo attention, with no tunic or sigil denoting their affiliation, just simple, dark clothing. Somehow, it seemed appropriate.
As she picked up the shirt, she laughed at herself. For so long, she had wished to be rid of the dresses and frills, any of the trappings of being a woman, and now that she was forced into men’s clothing and to ride like a man, she wanted to be a woman, to look beautiful for Silvandir.
Elena sighed as she recalled their recent conversation in the bathing room. Did he really love her or was it just pity? How would she ever know for certain? And could she love him in return? Could her shriveled heart truly embrace another?
Elena’s hand slapped her face, as if another part of her was determined to pull her from the perpetual internal arguments. There was no time to deal with these doubts. She had to move forward, had to get this baby to Queyon so her fate wouldn’t end up like Elena’s other children. She sat on the bed—ever so carefully, the stitches reminding her that she still had a long way to go before she healed. As she changed into the traveling clothes, she stopped to examine her belly.
“I want to keep you safe,” she whispered, stroking the bulge. “I want to do what is right for you, though I’m just not certain what that is.” A small sob squeaked out. “You should have had a better mother. I’m so sorry, little one.” She smiled at herself. It was a term of endearment and came so naturally. Tears filled her eyes, yet again. “And you are going to have to get used to these tears. I can’t seem to stop them anymore.”
A sharp knock sounded on the door.
“Elena?” It was Elbrion.
She quickly pulled her shirt over her head. “You are welcome, Ada.”
He peeked around the door and studied her with concern. “Are you well?”
“This room has grown too noisy.” She gave a weak grin and wiped her tears on her sleeve.
Elbrion glanced around, his brow furrowed. He moved closer and laid his hand on her shoulder as he sat next to her on the bed. “Ah, your gift is growing.”
Elena frowned at him. “Gift?”
“Your ability to hear thoughts from afar.”
She shook her head. “How do you always know to what I refer?”
“You tell me.”
“I told you nothing.”
“You told me a thousand things.”
Elena’s frown deepened.
Her ada smiled. “I do not have to search inside you any longer. When I touch you, and sometimes even without contact, the information you wish to convey is waiting for me.”
“If that’s true, it’s not intentional.”
“On some level it is, Sheya.” Elbrion’s smile burst with affection. “Some part of you longs to tell me everything and open your heart and mind wide, but there is still much fear in other parts. So, the battle rages within. I will receive whatever you offer and honor what you choose to withhold. I will embrace every part of you, my child.” He kissed her head.
Elena leaned into him, so thankful for his acceptance and love ... and his belief in her when she was so full of doubts.
Elbrion took her hand in his. “And, you will be a good mother. Of this, I am certain. Although you will learn and develop the skills just as any other new mother must, I know the immense love in your heart that has already embraced this child is a wonderful start.”
Elena chuckled and shook her head. “Did I inadvertently tell you anything else?”
He patted her leg and rose. “We do not have that much time. Finish dressing. We must leave soon.”
Elena laughed as she pulled on her boots. She caressed the bed one last time. Then, with Elbrion’s help, she stood, tucked in her shirt, and fastened her trousers. After a ragged sigh, she turned her back to the room. Stepping over the threshold, she pulled the door tightly closed.
One slammed inside her chest as well.
~
Her gaze slowly scanned Celdorn’s chamber, remembering the first time she had entered there. How strange it had all seemed then; how familiar and comforting it was now. So much like a womb from whose safety she did not wish to depart, she thought as she splayed her hands across her belly.
What lay ahead? Outside these walls were many forces that longed for her destruction. Were there more archers lying in wait? Would she ever reach Queyon? Would this baby ever see the light of day?
Elena jumped when Elbrion placed his hands on her shoulders.
“You are frightened.”
She gazed up at his serene face. “Yes, I don’t know what awaits me out there.”
“None of us knows our futures, Sheyshon, but we cannot let fear rule our choices. I believe moving you to Queyon is the best decision, though I wish your body had more time to strengthen.”
She forced an assured smile. “I’ll be strong, Ada. You’ll see.”
“You do not have to pretend with me. You may move with fear or with strength. My love is unchanged.”
Elena shook her head and laughed lightly. She could get away with nothing around Elbrion. But that also was comforting. She’d spent too many years pretending and hiding.
Silvandir returned and informed Celdorn that the Ilqazar had departed.
“We’re ready,” Celdorn stood and announced to all those gathered in his chambers.
Elena approached with Elbrion. “Ada? May I visit Sasha’s grave before we depart?”
Celdorn closed his eyes. “Forgive me, little one. I promised you that, and in all the hubbub to prepare for the journey, I forgot.” He held out his hand to her.
They exited through the terrace doors to find a beautiful, sunny day. The warmth outside surprised her after the chill of the keep. A few fluffy clouds dotted the sky and a light wind blew through the courtyard. They descended the broad stairs to the garden below. The grave was on the far side, closest to the boulders that marked the beginning of the foothills of Mount Iliand. White rocks had been stacked into a cairn to cover her resting place.
Celdorn pointed to the flowers planted around the edges of the rocks. “I know how much you love the wildflowers in the bai
ley, so I had the men dig up some and move them here.”
That started the tears again. Elena gingerly eased to her knees and fingered the tiny blossoms. An image suddenly overwhelmed her: Sasha and her lying nose to nose amongst the flowers in the bailey as arrows flew over them. “That was the last time we looked into each other’s eyes. Before I led you to your death.” She couldn’t bring herself to say “I’m sorry” yet again. Those words seemed too little, void of meaning. “I should have made you stay in the keep.”
Celdorn knelt beside her and laid his hand on her back. “Little one, you had no way of knowing what would happen that day. You wanted your friend and faithful guardian to come with you to greet us, and I’m sure that Sasha would have been insulted to be left behind.” He was right: Sasha would have been so sad not to have gone with her.
Just then, a rabbit peeked out from behind the broad leaves of a plant. Elena imagined Sasha giving her a good chase. She never hurt the rabbits; she just liked the thrill of the pursuit. “Do you miss her too?” she asked the little creature. “Maybe you can visit her for me.” Then Elena laughed at herself and looked up at her ada. “You must think I’ve lost my mind talking to a rabbit.”
Celdorn kissed the top of her head. “I think you’re an amazingly loving person, who recognizes and values even the smallest animal.” Tears spilled from his eyes. “You tender my heart repeatedly.” He gave her a quick squeeze then said, “We need to make our final farewells, little one.”
Elena nodded. She pulled out her dagger, cut a fistful of her hair, and laid it between the rocks on the top of the cairn. “So you’ll have my scent with you and know that I love you always and forever.” When the fresh wave of weeping finally subsided, she rose and brushed off her trousers. “Farewell, my dear, sweet Sasha.”
