Chapter 50
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She woke slowly to his touch, gentle and warm as always, familiar against her skin. She yawned and rubbed her eyes as she sat up, pulling her body from the confines of sleep to see Arren's smiling face. If I had not been frightened how would our wedding night have turned out, she thought suddenly, her face heating up.
You didn't come see me this afternoon, as you promised, she wrote.
He smiled and bent to kiss her, brushing his lips against her cheek. "You're a bit warm, is your fever returning?" his concern clear in his voice.
Her breath caught in her throat and she shook her head quickly.
"Good," he said sitting back on the bed. She realized that he wore clothes for sleeping. Soft pants and a long, loose shirt in plain fabric. "And I did come to see you. You were resting and I decided not to wake you then."
He plucked the book that she had been reading when she fell asleep from the bed, inspecting the cover, "What is this little bird?"
A history book, that's what I need to talk to you about, she wrote. He glanced up from the open page of the book, frowning.
"Please explain," he said before turning back to the page, "Are you able to understand this? Your grasp of our language is very good but this is quite heavy."
It's difficult but I am managing, I think. I'm looking for information on the darktellers, she responded.
He knit his brows together, confused, "Who? Why?"
They're like me, but for nightmares and because I met them, she responded, her body tense.
Frowning he closed the book and focused on her completely, his shadows shifting from lazy to alert around him, "Explain."
As quickly as she could, Isilla went over the things that had happened in the Veil during her long days of illness, the people that she had met and gotten to know. She told him about Elixabete's nightmare and how she had captured the girl and then later when she had drawn the others to her. What she understood of their plight and the crown's part in it.
He shook his head, "I have never heard of any of this. The only time I've heard of someone like you, here, was what my father said the day you were presented to the Court. I believe you, my love, but I do not think this is something you should meddle in."
She rolled her eyes. Haribit said the same, she wrote.
"Haribit is very wise and we are both lucky that she is your friend. Had she not come to me the day you met Lehan, I may not have found you in time. On this, I am inclined to agree with her," he said.
I can't just leave them, she responded.
"I know, so, I will look into this. When we know more, we can decide what to do. For now you need to rest. The ball is in a few days. I have told the ambassadors and the Prince that you will not see them until the ball. The Council, of course, wishes for you to be present but fortunately, this is a matter for the Crown to decide on."
My brother has returned, she asked, curious.
Arren smiled, "Or at least a person who claims to be him. Your people's illusions are very good, very strong."
He is not so impressive, it is the power of the dreamweavers. If he casts from the palace, he can draw on them. Face to face, you would be much stronger, she wrote.
Arren raised an eyebrow, "Is that so? How does that work?"
Her face warmed again, her comment, now on the page, seemed like something she should not admit to but he had asked so she explained. We make dreams and my people's magic works on that. The more dreams there are, the more power there is. Is it not the same for nightmares?
He smiled softly, "Yes, I suppose. I am just surprised how readily you would admit something like that."
There's no reason to keep it secret, she replied even though his words mirrored her own feelings.
He yawned, lifting his hand to cover his mouth. His sleeve feel back, revealing the bracelet she had made. She reached forward, touching it and he smiled. "I can't take it off," he said casually.
She tilted her head, questioning his statement.
"I tried, later, so that I could look at it closer but it will not come off my wrist. I suppose it's to stay there. Are you sure you weren't attempting to tell me something with this?" he asked playfully.
She shook her head, I wanted to make a bracelet like my mother used to wear to dance. The color and size are wrong, she wrote.
He looked at it, "I don't remember my dreams. I just have some vague feelings about them, a few images. But when I think of last night, all I can think of is your hair, something about it seemed so bright. This bracelet reminds me of it."
You're not worried, she asked.
"Why would I be worried? I do not think that you would create something that would hurt anyone," he chided gently.
She pointed at Ilun's slumbering form on the floor and Arren smiled, "Yes but what pain he has caused was only in service to you."
Not the cows, she thought, remembering the violence of the act and realizing that she had never told Arren about it. It's not important, he knows what damage Ilun can cause if provoked, she reasoned, dismissing the thought.
"But this is something else. When I touch it with my own magic, it does not feel like any of the other items that you've brought back, not even like the flowers. This feels like light," he said slowly turning his wrist. "Can I see the original?" he asked.
She nodded and moved to get out of bed. He put his hand on her arm to stop her. "I'll get it, you should stay in bed."
She smiled and shook her head, kissing his cheek to let him know she was fine, that she could walk, at least in her own room. He blushed at the brief touch, his breath catching in his throat.
She used his minor distraction to slip from the bed and cross the room to where her trunk sat. What if they're not here, she thought, realizing that someone, likely the maids had been in her personal belongings when they took the letters.
They wouldn't bother with such plain things when they can steal all those fine pieces from my dresser, she reasoned as she opened the trunk. Inside she could see that her things had been gone through, and not carefully. The shawl had been unfolded and crumbled into a ball, she picked it up and refolded it before digging deeper and finding the bracelets dumped at the bottom.
She picked them all up, counting them, fifteen in all, relief spilling over her at finding them. She closed the trunk and stood up, the thin bands of metal in her hands to present to Arren.
He plucked one at random from her, inspecting it next to one he wore. The silver one identical in it's simple twisting pattern to the one that Arren wore, the size and its strange red coloring the only difference.
"What were these for?" he asked curiously. "Some mark of royalty for your people?"
She giggled and shook her head. She dropped the bracelets on her blanket and took up her book again. My mother wore these to dance. She was not royalty.
"Yes, I know, you said in your letters that you did not live in the palace but I assumed that you were brought up properly. You are so well educated."
Properly? My mother raised me very well, she replied, frowning at the backhanded insult, unexpected from his lips.
He realized his error immediately. "That is not what I meant. I should have phrased that better."
She did not reply, there was nothing for her to say, she was raised by a dancer on the streets.
His fingers cupped her chin, pulling her gaze back to him. "Isilla, I'm sorry. That was a thoughtless comment. I'm tired and am not thinking."
She nodded, accepting his apology. She paid for me to be educated, Isilla explained.
"She sounds like a wonderful mother," he said.
She nodded, smiling sadly.
"Can you dance?" he asked suddenly, pulling her back from her sadness.
Surprised she nodded.
"When you are feeling better, I would like to see that," he said, his voice low.
I'm fine, she signed.
"That one I know, Haribit taught me and said if you said that, you were lying," he smiled.
She frowned and slipped off the heavy nightgown revealing a thin shift underneath.
"Isilla! It's too cold!" Arren said standing, "You've been out of bed too long as it is!"
She stopped him with a hand to his chest and swept the bangles up, sliding them over one wrist. She hummed to herself as she moved, following the steps her mother had taught her, moving her body to the drums that played in her mind. Ilun perked up at her steps, watching her dance to the song that only he could hear.
She moved her arm so the thin metal bands caught the light, her hips and legs making the meager skirt of the shift move and lift about her. Tired after only a few minutes, she stopped, confident that she had proven her point, although what point that was, she was unsure.
She looked back at Arren who leaned against the bed, his lips parted, eyes wide. She smiled sheepishly at him, looking down at the floor where his shadows spilled, thicker and darker than they had been, swirling around her ankles .
"Hmm?" she hummed, looking up again as Arren moved, crossing the distance between them. He wrapped her in his arms and pressed his lips against hers, bringing her body to meet his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, steadying herself against him.
Her heart beat quickly in her chest, his own warm and hard through his shirt. He kissed her deeply, his mouth hungry and possessive against hers. His hands cradled her back, hot through the thin fabric
He pulled away just as suddenly as he had embraced her. "I have to stop," his voice husky with want, need. "I should go, I can barely control myself and you are still recuperating. You should not be out of bed."
Then take me to bed, she thought as she stood on her toes, kissing him, pulling his body back to hers. What if I want him to take me tonight, she thought as she felt him respond,kissing her back, his hands traced a line down her spine while his shadows twisted below, reaching for her.
He pulled away again but before she could complain, he lifted her, carrying her to the the bed and laying her on the pillows. He slipped out of his shirt, revealing his chest. She touched his warm skin, the soft hair. Familiar but this was the first time she had ever done so.
"Isilla, are you sure? I don't know what will happen to you or anyone but I," his words trailed off, his face at once stricken and full of desire.
She reached for him, pulling him down into her embrace, kissing away his doubts and fears, assuring him without words that yes, she was sure, yes, she wanted this. He moved his lips to her neck, sucking at the skin gently before pushing down the shift and revealing her body to him.
He ran his hands over her skin, his shadows followed, their touch easy against her. He bent, his bare chest against hers, making her shiver with desire, his mouth tracing the same lines his hands had followed.
His hand covered her eyes, "Don't look my love, it is too much."
She pushed his hand away and looked at his eyes, smiling softly. The strange light and movement that had scared her before did not do so now. She understood it better and as she gazed it shifted, overtaken with darkness as the room around them filled with this shadows. Uncontrolled they spilled over everything, snatching the light.
If there was danger, Ilun would move, the thought, weak and distracted, came to her before she wrapped her arms around Arren, pulling him back to her.
"Let me," he said breathlessly moving away from her lips, his hands and fingers touching her as they had in the dream. On some level she was aware that he had shed the rest of his clothing and laid beside her nude as he touched her.
She felt no fear as he explored the body he had held in his dreams until she was soft and ready under him, her own pleasure having crashed like waves over her.
"Stop me, if it is too much. I will go slow," he said and she nodded as he made his entrance. Gentle and slow, as he promised. He kissed her as he moved, keeping his body close, keeping her wrapped in his warmth until his body tensed and released.
He looked down at her, his eyes pitch black, wisps of black mist falling from down his cheeks. The air, filled with his shadows, glowed with its strange not-light, in its purest form, unrestrained, it reminded her of her sky in Veil.
Her body felt heavy and her skin tingled. She lifted her fingers and the shadows twisted around them. She smiled, pleased.
"You are alright, my love?" he asked touching her face.
She nodded, moving her cheek to push against his hand, the small movement proving that she was well.
"All of you?" he asked running the hand down her body.
She shivered and nodded again, this time reaching for him, his kiss.
He pulled away slowly. "I must be sure," he said softly.
The shadows that surrounded them thinned his eyes cleared as he used the waiting energy for his own ends.
The six sense that resided in Isilla reared up, hungry, starving for the taste of what it had just felt. The sudden need of it painful, as if it would burst from her chest to catch that power. Gritting her teeth she tried to push it back.
"Stop," Arren said above her.
He pulled them into a sitting position, holding her so that her legs wrapped around his waist, as he had done in Veil. "Let it do what it needs," he said, his eyes clear.
She shook her head. I don't know what it will do or its purpose, she thought but she couldn't communicate her fears to him.
He kissed her, "It's alright, my love."
She nodded and relaxed, letting it run its course. She could feel it reaching from her, to him, latching onto his darkness, pulling it back to her. She gasped, the feeling of it spreading, sweet and soft, through her veins until it had been taken into every inch of her.
Arren leaned his head against hers, breathing deeply as she held her hand over her chest, the space where she had felt his darkness enter. Tentatively he touched her, waiting for her to show she was alright.
She touched his chest and he covered her hand, sensing her question. "It feels, comfortable, as if I'm holding something? I cannot explain it. It doesn't matter how I feel. I am concerned about you. Are you alright?"
She nodded, her body feeling better than it had in ages. Right now, everything is fine, she thought.
He kissed again, slow and deep. "I need to sleep, badly, and so do you. There is much to do over next few days. If you are safe, we can take our time to figure all of this out."
She nodded, agreeing, her body exhausted from her long illness and recent activity. She let him settle her into the bed, wrapping his body around her back, his heat keeping her warm. A moment later, Ilun pulled himself onto the mattress, sprawling across the foot of the bed. Arren growled but let him stay.
"Goodnight, my dearest," he said as she closed her eyes feeling, for the first time since her arrival in the strange land, at ease.
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She woke slowly to his touch, gentle and warm as always, familiar against her skin. She yawned and rubbed her eyes as she sat up, pulling her body from the confines of sleep to see Arren's smiling face. If I had not been frightened how would our wedding night have turned out, she thought suddenly, her face heating up.
You didn't come see me this afternoon, as you promised, she wrote.
He smiled and bent to kiss her, brushing his lips against her cheek. "You're a bit warm, is your fever returning?" his concern clear in his voice.
Her breath caught in her throat and she shook her head quickly.
"Good," he said sitting back on the bed. She realized that he wore clothes for sleeping. Soft pants and a long, loose shirt in plain fabric. "And I did come to see you. You were resting and I decided not to wake you then."
He plucked the book that she had been reading when she fell asleep from the bed, inspecting the cover, "What is this little bird?"
A history book, that's what I need to talk to you about, she wrote. He glanced up from the open page of the book, frowning.
"Please explain," he said before turning back to the page, "Are you able to understand this? Your grasp of our language is very good but this is quite heavy."
It's difficult but I am managing, I think. I'm looking for information on the darktellers, she responded.
He knit his brows together, confused, "Who? Why?"
They're like me, but for nightmares and because I met them, she responded, her body tense.
Frowning he closed the book and focused on her completely, his shadows shifting from lazy to alert around him, "Explain."
As quickly as she could, Isilla went over the things that had happened in the Veil during her long days of illness, the people that she had met and gotten to know. She told him about Elixabete's nightmare and how she had captured the girl and then later when she had drawn the others to her. What she understood of their plight and the crown's part in it.
He shook his head, "I have never heard of any of this. The only time I've heard of someone like you, here, was what my father said the day you were presented to the Court. I believe you, my love, but I do not think this is something you should meddle in."
She rolled her eyes. Haribit said the same, she wrote.
"Haribit is very wise and we are both lucky that she is your friend. Had she not come to me the day you met Lehan, I may not have found you in time. On this, I am inclined to agree with her," he said.
I can't just leave them, she responded.
"I know, so, I will look into this. When we know more, we can decide what to do. For now you need to rest. The ball is in a few days. I have told the ambassadors and the Prince that you will not see them until the ball. The Council, of course, wishes for you to be present but fortunately, this is a matter for the Crown to decide on."
My brother has returned, she asked, curious.
Arren smiled, "Or at least a person who claims to be him. Your people's illusions are very good, very strong."
He is not so impressive, it is the power of the dreamweavers. If he casts from the palace, he can draw on them. Face to face, you would be much stronger, she wrote.
Arren raised an eyebrow, "Is that so? How does that work?"
Her face warmed again, her comment, now on the page, seemed like something she should not admit to but he had asked so she explained. We make dreams and my people's magic works on that. The more dreams there are, the more power there is. Is it not the same for nightmares?
He smiled softly, "Yes, I suppose. I am just surprised how readily you would admit something like that."
There's no reason to keep it secret, she replied even though his words mirrored her own feelings.
He yawned, lifting his hand to cover his mouth. His sleeve feel back, revealing the bracelet she had made. She reached forward, touching it and he smiled. "I can't take it off," he said casually.
She tilted her head, questioning his statement.
"I tried, later, so that I could look at it closer but it will not come off my wrist. I suppose it's to stay there. Are you sure you weren't attempting to tell me something with this?" he asked playfully.
She shook her head, I wanted to make a bracelet like my mother used to wear to dance. The color and size are wrong, she wrote.
He looked at it, "I don't remember my dreams. I just have some vague feelings about them, a few images. But when I think of last night, all I can think of is your hair, something about it seemed so bright. This bracelet reminds me of it."
You're not worried, she asked.
"Why would I be worried? I do not think that you would create something that would hurt anyone," he chided gently.
She pointed at Ilun's slumbering form on the floor and Arren smiled, "Yes but what pain he has caused was only in service to you."
Not the cows, she thought, remembering the violence of the act and realizing that she had never told Arren about it. It's not important, he knows what damage Ilun can cause if provoked, she reasoned, dismissing the thought.
"But this is something else. When I touch it with my own magic, it does not feel like any of the other items that you've brought back, not even like the flowers. This feels like light," he said slowly turning his wrist. "Can I see the original?" he asked.
She nodded and moved to get out of bed. He put his hand on her arm to stop her. "I'll get it, you should stay in bed."
She smiled and shook her head, kissing his cheek to let him know she was fine, that she could walk, at least in her own room. He blushed at the brief touch, his breath catching in his throat.
She used his minor distraction to slip from the bed and cross the room to where her trunk sat. What if they're not here, she thought, realizing that someone, likely the maids had been in her personal belongings when they took the letters.
They wouldn't bother with such plain things when they can steal all those fine pieces from my dresser, she reasoned as she opened the trunk. Inside she could see that her things had been gone through, and not carefully. The shawl had been unfolded and crumbled into a ball, she picked it up and refolded it before digging deeper and finding the bracelets dumped at the bottom.
She picked them all up, counting them, fifteen in all, relief spilling over her at finding them. She closed the trunk and stood up, the thin bands of metal in her hands to present to Arren.
He plucked one at random from her, inspecting it next to one he wore. The silver one identical in it's simple twisting pattern to the one that Arren wore, the size and its strange red coloring the only difference.
"What were these for?" he asked curiously. "Some mark of royalty for your people?"
She giggled and shook her head. She dropped the bracelets on her blanket and took up her book again. My mother wore these to dance. She was not royalty.
"Yes, I know, you said in your letters that you did not live in the palace but I assumed that you were brought up properly. You are so well educated."
Properly? My mother raised me very well, she replied, frowning at the backhanded insult, unexpected from his lips.
He realized his error immediately. "That is not what I meant. I should have phrased that better."
She did not reply, there was nothing for her to say, she was raised by a dancer on the streets.
His fingers cupped her chin, pulling her gaze back to him. "Isilla, I'm sorry. That was a thoughtless comment. I'm tired and am not thinking."
She nodded, accepting his apology. She paid for me to be educated, Isilla explained.
"She sounds like a wonderful mother," he said.
She nodded, smiling sadly.
"Can you dance?" he asked suddenly, pulling her back from her sadness.
Surprised she nodded.
"When you are feeling better, I would like to see that," he said, his voice low.
I'm fine, she signed.
"That one I know, Haribit taught me and said if you said that, you were lying," he smiled.
She frowned and slipped off the heavy nightgown revealing a thin shift underneath.
"Isilla! It's too cold!" Arren said standing, "You've been out of bed too long as it is!"
She stopped him with a hand to his chest and swept the bangles up, sliding them over one wrist. She hummed to herself as she moved, following the steps her mother had taught her, moving her body to the drums that played in her mind. Ilun perked up at her steps, watching her dance to the song that only he could hear.
She moved her arm so the thin metal bands caught the light, her hips and legs making the meager skirt of the shift move and lift about her. Tired after only a few minutes, she stopped, confident that she had proven her point, although what point that was, she was unsure.
She looked back at Arren who leaned against the bed, his lips parted, eyes wide. She smiled sheepishly at him, looking down at the floor where his shadows spilled, thicker and darker than they had been, swirling around her ankles .
"Hmm?" she hummed, looking up again as Arren moved, crossing the distance between them. He wrapped her in his arms and pressed his lips against hers, bringing her body to meet his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, steadying herself against him.
Her heart beat quickly in her chest, his own warm and hard through his shirt. He kissed her deeply, his mouth hungry and possessive against hers. His hands cradled her back, hot through the thin fabric
He pulled away just as suddenly as he had embraced her. "I have to stop," his voice husky with want, need. "I should go, I can barely control myself and you are still recuperating. You should not be out of bed."
Then take me to bed, she thought as she stood on her toes, kissing him, pulling his body back to hers. What if I want him to take me tonight, she thought as she felt him respond,kissing her back, his hands traced a line down her spine while his shadows twisted below, reaching for her.
He pulled away again but before she could complain, he lifted her, carrying her to the the bed and laying her on the pillows. He slipped out of his shirt, revealing his chest. She touched his warm skin, the soft hair. Familiar but this was the first time she had ever done so.
"Isilla, are you sure? I don't know what will happen to you or anyone but I," his words trailed off, his face at once stricken and full of desire.
She reached for him, pulling him down into her embrace, kissing away his doubts and fears, assuring him without words that yes, she was sure, yes, she wanted this. He moved his lips to her neck, sucking at the skin gently before pushing down the shift and revealing her body to him.
He ran his hands over her skin, his shadows followed, their touch easy against her. He bent, his bare chest against hers, making her shiver with desire, his mouth tracing the same lines his hands had followed.
His hand covered her eyes, "Don't look my love, it is too much."
She pushed his hand away and looked at his eyes, smiling softly. The strange light and movement that had scared her before did not do so now. She understood it better and as she gazed it shifted, overtaken with darkness as the room around them filled with this shadows. Uncontrolled they spilled over everything, snatching the light.
If there was danger, Ilun would move, the thought, weak and distracted, came to her before she wrapped her arms around Arren, pulling him back to her.
"Let me," he said breathlessly moving away from her lips, his hands and fingers touching her as they had in the dream. On some level she was aware that he had shed the rest of his clothing and laid beside her nude as he touched her.
She felt no fear as he explored the body he had held in his dreams until she was soft and ready under him, her own pleasure having crashed like waves over her.
"Stop me, if it is too much. I will go slow," he said and she nodded as he made his entrance. Gentle and slow, as he promised. He kissed her as he moved, keeping his body close, keeping her wrapped in his warmth until his body tensed and released.
He looked down at her, his eyes pitch black, wisps of black mist falling from down his cheeks. The air, filled with his shadows, glowed with its strange not-light, in its purest form, unrestrained, it reminded her of her sky in Veil.
Her body felt heavy and her skin tingled. She lifted her fingers and the shadows twisted around them. She smiled, pleased.
"You are alright, my love?" he asked touching her face.
She nodded, moving her cheek to push against his hand, the small movement proving that she was well.
"All of you?" he asked running the hand down her body.
She shivered and nodded again, this time reaching for him, his kiss.
He pulled away slowly. "I must be sure," he said softly.
The shadows that surrounded them thinned his eyes cleared as he used the waiting energy for his own ends.
The six sense that resided in Isilla reared up, hungry, starving for the taste of what it had just felt. The sudden need of it painful, as if it would burst from her chest to catch that power. Gritting her teeth she tried to push it back.
"Stop," Arren said above her.
He pulled them into a sitting position, holding her so that her legs wrapped around his waist, as he had done in Veil. "Let it do what it needs," he said, his eyes clear.
She shook her head. I don't know what it will do or its purpose, she thought but she couldn't communicate her fears to him.
He kissed her, "It's alright, my love."
She nodded and relaxed, letting it run its course. She could feel it reaching from her, to him, latching onto his darkness, pulling it back to her. She gasped, the feeling of it spreading, sweet and soft, through her veins until it had been taken into every inch of her.
Arren leaned his head against hers, breathing deeply as she held her hand over her chest, the space where she had felt his darkness enter. Tentatively he touched her, waiting for her to show she was alright.
She touched his chest and he covered her hand, sensing her question. "It feels, comfortable, as if I'm holding something? I cannot explain it. It doesn't matter how I feel. I am concerned about you. Are you alright?"
She nodded, her body feeling better than it had in ages. Right now, everything is fine, she thought.
He kissed again, slow and deep. "I need to sleep, badly, and so do you. There is much to do over next few days. If you are safe, we can take our time to figure all of this out."
She nodded, agreeing, her body exhausted from her long illness and recent activity. She let him settle her into the bed, wrapping his body around her back, his heat keeping her warm. A moment later, Ilun pulled himself onto the mattress, sprawling across the foot of the bed. Arren growled but let him stay.
"Goodnight, my dearest," he said as she closed her eyes feeling, for the first time since her arrival in the strange land, at ease.
She woke slowly to his touch, gentle and warm as always, familiar against her skin. She yawned and rubbed her eyes as she sat up, pulling her body from the confines of sleep to see Arren's smiling face. If I had not been frightened how would our wedding night have turned out, she thought suddenly, her face heating up.You didn't come see me this afternoon, as you promised, she wrote.He smiled and bent to kiss her, brushing his lips against her cheek. "You're a bit warm, is your fever returning?" his concern clear in his voice.Her breath caught in her throat and she shook her head quickly."Good," he said sitting back on the bed. She realized that he wore clothes for sleeping. Soft pants and a long, loose shirt in plain fabric. "And I did come to see you. You were resting and I decided not to wake you then."He plucked the book that she had been reading when she fell asleep from the bed, inspecting the cover, "What is this little bird?"A history book, that's what I need to talk to you about, she wrote. He glanced up from the open page of the book, frowning."Please explain," he said before turning back to the page, "Are you able to understand this? Your grasp of our language is very good but this is quite heavy."It's difficult but I am managing, I think. I'm looking for information on the darktellers, she responded.He knit his brows together, confused, "Who? Why?"They're like me, but for nightmares and because I met them, she responded, her body tense.Frowning he closed the book and focused on her completely, his shadows shifting from lazy to alert around him, "Explain."As quickly as she could, Isilla went over the things that had happened in the Veil during her long days of illness, the people that she had met and gotten to know. She told him about Elixabete's nightmare and how she had captured the girl and then later when she had drawn the others to her. What she understood of their plight and the crown's part in it.He shook his head, "I have never heard of any of this. The only time I've heard of someone like you, here, was what my father said the day you were presented to the Court. I believe you, my love, but I do not think this is something you should meddle in."She rolled her eyes. Haribit said the same, she wrote."Haribit is very wise and we are both lucky that she is your friend. Had she not come to me the day you met Lehan, I may not have found you in time. On this, I am inclined to agree with her," he said.I can't just leave them, she responded."I know, so, I will look into this. When we know more, we can decide what to do. For now you need to rest. The ball is in a few days. I have told the ambassadors and the Prince that you will not see them until the ball. The Council, of course, wishes for you to be present but fortunately, this is a matter for the Crown to decide on."My brother has returned, she asked, curious.Arren smiled, "Or at least a person who claims to be him. Your people's illusions are very good, very strong."He is not so impressive, it is the power of the dreamweavers. If he casts from the palace, he can draw on them. Face to face, you would be much stronger, she wrote.Arren raised an eyebrow, "Is that so? How does that work?"Her face warmed again, her comment, now on the page, seemed like something she should not admit to but he had asked so she explained. We make dreams and my people's magic works on that. The more dreams there are, the more power there is. Is it not the same for nightmares?He smiled softly, "Yes, I suppose. I am just surprised how readily you would admit something like that."There's no reason to keep it secret, she replied even though his words mirrored her own feelings.He yawned, lifting his hand to cover his mouth. His sleeve feel back, revealing the bracelet she had made. She reached forward, touching it and he smiled. "I can't take it off," he said casually.She tilted her head, questioning his statement."I tried, later, so that I could look at it closer but it will not come off my wrist. I suppose it's to stay there. Are you sure you weren't attempting to tell me something with this?" he asked playfully.She shook her head, I wanted to make a bracelet like my mother used to wear to dance. The color and size are wrong, she wrote.He looked at it, "I don't remember my dreams. I just have some vague feelings about them, a few images. But when I think of last night, all I can think of is your hair, something about it seemed so bright. This bracelet reminds me of it."You're not worried, she asked."Why would I be worried? I do not think that you would create something that would hurt anyone," he chided gently.She pointed at Ilun's slumbering form on the floor and Arren smiled, "Yes but what pain he has caused was only in service to you."Not the cows, she thought, remembering the violence of the act and realizing that she had never told Arren about it. It's not important, he knows what damage Ilun can cause if provoked, she reasoned, dismissing the thought."But this is something else. When I touch it with my own magic, it does not feel like any of the other items that you've brought back, not even like the flowers. This feels like light," he said slowly turning his wrist. "Can I see the original?" he asked.She nodded and moved to get out of bed. He put his hand on her arm to stop her. "I'll get it, you should stay in bed."She smiled and shook her head, kissing his cheek to let him know she was fine, that she could walk, at least in her own room. He blushed at the brief touch, his breath catching in his throat.She used his minor distraction to slip from the bed and cross the room to where her trunk sat. What if they're not here, she thought, realizing that someone, likely the maids had been in her personal belongings when they took the letters.They wouldn't bother with such plain things when they can steal all those fine pieces from my dresser, she reasoned as she opened the trunk. Inside she could see that her things had been gone through, and not carefully. The shawl had been unfolded and crumbled into a ball, she picked it up and refolded it before digging deeper and finding the bracelets dumped at the bottom.She picked them all up, counting them, fifteen in all, relief spilling over her at finding them. She closed the trunk and stood up, the thin bands of metal in her hands to present to Arren.He plucked one at random from her, inspecting it next to one he wore. The silver one identical in it's simple twisting pattern to the one that Arren wore, the size and its strange red coloring the only difference."What were these for?" he asked curiously. "Some mark of royalty for your people?"She giggled and shook her head. She dropped the bracelets on her blanket and took up her book again. My mother wore these to dance. She was not royalty."Yes, I know, you said in your letters that you did not live in the palace but I assumed that you were brought up properly. You are so well educated."Properly? My mother raised me very well, she replied, frowning at the backhanded insult, unexpected from his lips.He realized his error immediately. "That is not what I meant. I should have phrased that better."She did not reply, there was nothing for her to say, she was raised by a dancer on the streets.His fingers cupped her chin, pulling her gaze back to him. "Isilla, I'm sorry. That was a thoughtless comment. I'm tired and am not thinking."She nodded, accepting his apology. She paid for me to be educated, Isilla explained."She sounds like a wonderful mother," he said.She nodded, smiling sadly."Can you dance?" he asked suddenly, pulling her back from her sadness.Surprised she nodded."When you are feeling better, I would like to see that," he said, his voice low.I'm fine, she signed."That one I know, Haribit taught me and said if you said that, you were lying," he smiled.She frowned and slipped off the heavy nightgown revealing a thin shift underneath."Isilla! It's too cold!" Arren said standing, "You've been out of bed too long as it is!"She stopped him with a hand to his chest and swept the bangles up, sliding them over one wrist. She hummed to herself as she moved, following the steps her mother had taught her, moving her body to the drums that played in her mind. Ilun perked up at her steps, watching her dance to the song that only he could hear.She moved her arm so the thin metal bands caught the light, her hips and legs making the meager skirt of the shift move and lift about her. Tired after only a few minutes, she stopped, confident that she had proven her point, although what point that was, she was unsure.She looked back at Arren who leaned against the bed, his lips parted, eyes wide. She smiled sheepishly at him, looking down at the floor where his shadows spilled, thicker and darker than they had been, swirling around her ankles ."Hmm?" she hummed, looking up again as Arren moved, crossing the distance between them. He wrapped her in his arms and pressed his lips against hers, bringing her body to meet his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, steadying herself against him.Her heart beat quickly in her chest, his own warm and hard through his shirt. He kissed her deeply, his mouth hungry and possessive against hers. His hands cradled her back, hot through the thin fabricHe pulled away just as suddenly as he had embraced her. "I have to stop," his voice husky with want, need. "I should go, I can barely control myself and you are still recuperating. You should not be out of bed."Then take me to bed, she thought as she stood on her toes, kissing him, pulling his body back to hers. What if I want him to take me tonight, she thought as she felt him respond,kissing her back, his hands traced a line down her spine while his shadows twisted below, reaching for her.He pulled away again but before she could complain, he lifted her, carrying her to the the bed and laying her on the pillows. He slipped out of his shirt, revealing his chest. She touched his warm skin, the soft hair. Familiar but this was the first time she had ever done so."Isilla, are you sure? I don't know what will happen to you or anyone but I," his words trailed off, his face at once stricken and full of desire.She reached for him, pulling him down into her embrace, kissing away his doubts and fears, assuring him without words that yes, she was sure, yes, she wanted this. He moved his lips to her neck, sucking at the skin gently before pushing down the shift and revealing her body to him.He ran his hands over her skin, his shadows followed, their touch easy against her. He bent, his bare chest against hers, making her shiver with desire, his mouth tracing the same lines his hands had followed.His hand covered her eyes, "Don't look my love, it is too much."She pushed his hand away and looked at his eyes, smiling softly. The strange light and movement that had scared her before did not do so now. She understood it better and as she gazed it shifted, overtaken with darkness as the room around them filled with this shadows. Uncontrolled they spilled over everything, snatching the light.If there was danger, Ilun would move, the thought, weak and distracted, came to her before she wrapped her arms around Arren, pulling him back to her."Let me," he said breathlessly moving away from her lips, his hands and fingers touching her as they had in the dream. On some level she was aware that he had shed the rest of his clothing and laid beside her nude as he touched her.She felt no fear as he explored the body he had held in his dreams until she was soft and ready under him, her own pleasure having crashed like waves over her."Stop me, if it is too much. I will go slow," he said and she nodded as he made his entrance. Gentle and slow, as he promised. He kissed her as he moved, keeping his body close, keeping her wrapped in his warmth until his body tensed and released.He looked down at her, his eyes pitch black, wisps of black mist falling from down his cheeks. The air, filled with his shadows, glowed with its strange not-light, in its purest form, unrestrained, it reminded her of her sky in Veil.Her body felt heavy and her skin tingled. She lifted her fingers and the shadows twisted around them. She smiled, pleased."You are alright, my love?" he asked touching her face.She nodded, moving her cheek to push against his hand, the small movement proving that she was well."All of you?" he asked running the hand down her body.She shivered and nodded again, this time reaching for him, his kiss.He pulled away slowly. "I must be sure," he said softly.The shadows that surrounded them thinned his eyes cleared as he used the waiting energy for his own ends.The six sense that resided in Isilla reared up, hungry, starving for the taste of what it had just felt. The sudden need of it painful, as if it would burst from her chest to catch that power. Gritting her teeth she tried to push it back."Stop," Arren said above her.He pulled them into a sitting position, holding her so that her legs wrapped around his waist, as he had done in Veil. "Let it do what it needs," he said, his eyes clear.She shook her head. I don't know what it will do or its purpose, she thought but she couldn't communicate her fears to him.He kissed her, "It's alright, my love."She nodded and relaxed, letting it run its course. She could feel it reaching from her, to him, latching onto his darkness, pulling it back to her. She gasped, the feeling of it spreading, sweet and soft, through her veins until it had been taken into every inch of her.Arren leaned his head against hers, breathing deeply as she held her hand over her chest, the space where she had felt his darkness enter. Tentatively he touched her, waiting for her to show she was alright.She touched his chest and he covered her hand, sensing her question. "It feels, comfortable, as if I'm holding something? I cannot explain it. It doesn't matter how I feel. I am concerned about you. Are you alright?"She nodded, her body feeling better than it had in ages. Right now, everything is fine, she thought.He kissed again, slow and deep. "I need to sleep, badly, and so do you. There is much to do over next few days. If you are safe, we can take our time to figure all of this out."She nodded, agreeing, her body exhausted from her long illness and recent activity. She let him settle her into the bed, wrapping his body around her back, his heat keeping her warm. A moment later, Ilun pulled himself onto the mattress, sprawling across the foot of the bed. Arren growled but let him stay."Goodnight, my dearest," he said as she closed her eyes feeling, for the first time since her arrival in the strange land, at ease.
