• Mature • Don't You Dare

[Vakhanor]

Ashan 21, Cycle 717

Evening fell upon Rynmere, merchants were locking up for the night and the young children hushed off to bed in the early hours. Families gathered around their fires sharing stories and in the quiet of the Burhan home, the sweet aroma of bacon and perfume stirred Vakhanor from a deep and healing sleep.

Aching in pain the smith groaned as the moving images of bad memories danced across the back of his eyelids, haunting him with the reality that his life was torn away. Burned and broken in the space of trills, he no longer had a home. Questions came like sandpaper, what would he do now? Everything looked like a wrong answer. He lay there like a pile of dirty laundry too stained to be clean and when he opened his eyes, he saw the world in the pupils of two dark brown eyes staring back at him.

Elyna was there beside him, tired and bruised with a cracked lip. Beaming with adoration he looked up at her, tears threatening his eyes “Hey beautiful," he strained in a hoarse whisper, reaching out his hand to her. How long had he been laying here? "Are-" he grit his teeth in frustration, as he lifted off his burnt hands to try and sit up "Are you okay?"

Now he was conscious Vakhanor took a closer look at their surroundings. Much to his alarm the room was larger than anything he’d ever seen, the marble walls finely crafted with patterns across the rims of the ceiling that had been painted with a picture of Faldran’s demonic forces battling Chrien’s mermen. It had been complimented by the reflection of the lights on the hanging chandelier that hung at the centre, illuminating the imagery with red and blue. “Where are we?”

[Elyna]

Elyna wasn’t sure when she’d last slept. Once she’d been confident that Vakhanor would continue in the world of the living, the woman had risen from his side and gone in search of her daughter. Hardly daring to breathe she had opened the door to her old bedroom, and stood, silently listening to the steady rise and fall of the childs’ breath. It was then that she’d sagged and dropped into the chair beside the doorway. Face pressed into her hands once more. Elsie was safe. Vakhanor would live…where was Malcolm? In all the panic of her escape and the fire, the dread had faded. Now, with only the gentle sound of voices in the distance as they cared for her friend, fear was quick to return.

The young woman felt as though all the world was falling in on her head. She crossed the room and knelt beside the cradle. Reaching through the wooden bars to touch smooth shaking fingers over Elsie’s head. She wanted to hold the baby tight to her chest, but knew that waking her up would only end in disaster.

Her Father found her, and ordered her back to the study, where a bed had been set up for Vakhanor between the marble walls and beneath the opulent chandelier. The room was cool, with high windows and clean air washing through it. She was forced to sit, recount her story as the wounds on her wrist and face were tended. She attributed all of them to her captors. Wrists bound and ice held against the spreading bruise on her jaw, the woman had sat in a tall wooden chair and watched the sunrise.

The next day she’d returned to the Iron Hand and explained what had happened to the Warden of the North. Two teams of Skyriders were dispatched to search for the man. Elyna had tried to join them but had been grounded. The Iron Hand had already combed through the house on the hill with dogs the day after their disappearance and failed to track Malcolm’s scent very far. On the morning of the Twentieth, Elyna had flown out with her original command and scoured the land towards the east. Soaring over the cliffs and searching for signs of a ship or boat that shouldn’t be there. Anyone who might be trying to take a prisoner out of the country. By the time night had started falling, she’d been forced to return to the city and the search called off for another day.

How many trials would they search for their Warden, before they gave him up as dead? There wasn’t the man power to spare, with unrest in the city and the Qe’dreki still lost to the wind. Frustrated, the woman had returned to her parents. Collected Elsie and slipped into the study where Vakhanor slept on. They had wanted to move him to a bedroom upstairs, but it was easier for the servants to tend his wounds in the study, without carrying water between rooms. Besides, it was cooler and more pleasant for his burns. A well stoked fire burnt behind a desk and kept away the worst of the chill.

Elyna sat with her arms wrapped around her daughter, telling her stories until the child fell asleep. Anna had then peered into the room before carrying the baby upstairs to her bed. Elyna sank back in the tall chair once more, feet curled up beneath herself as she watched the window and the first stars appearing.

Then he moved and she looked around at her friend, smiling. When had she last slept? He reached out for her fingers and she extended her hand to hold him gently. “No,” she admitted with a half-smile. “I’m not alright…but I will be.” She twisted in the chair till she faced him straight and lifted his hand to her lips. Pressing a kiss to the back of it before searching his expression.

“You’re not going to like this,” she warned, “you’re in House Burhan. You saved my life Vakhanor. This was the safest place I could bring you to recover,” she’d also been desperate to see her baby. The woman edged closer and trailed her fingertips over the side of his face. “How do you feel? You look like shit,” it was a small smile.

[Vakhanor]

“You look like shit,”

At least she was telling the truth.

Stifling laughter Vakhanor decided to be an idiot and to try tugging Elyna into a hug, despite his condition “that’s my line.”

Releasing her, Vakhanor’s expression dropped as he raised his hand over the patch of linen that covered the right side of his head, it hurt. Covered in scrapes and scars, he grew wide eyed at the sheer amount of bandages and stitches that covered his body. What had he done?

The smiths mind raced back to the dungeon, the rage, pinning Elyna and escaping from the fire. He remembered her magic, the frenzy, his apology and most of all – Malcolm Krome was in danger. No rest for the wicked, Vakhanor thought resting back against the pillow with a drawn out sigh. Elyna was bound to go after the man now she was free; the woman was a creature of impulse and would probably do something stupid.

“We’ll find Malcolm,” Vakh said with a matter of fact tone, summoning some of his strength to push past the pain to sit on the edge of the bed.

“When are we leaving?” he asked, avoiding her eyes as he gazed at the bookshelf opposite from him, going through the titles. Despite his jealousy for their love and their life, the smith was adamant to set the bickering couple right even if it meant he had to die to show the pair of them what they had.

[Elyna]

“It’s a good line,” she was relieved to wrap her arms around the Smith and hug him. Briefly, the Skyrider wondered if she should be angry that he’d lashed out; but bruises had long been part of her life and what was one more? Elyna tested the split with the tip of her tongue, it was healing but it still tasted like blood. Content that her friend was alive, she squeezed him tight and watched his own tentative exploration of his body. “You got pretty burnt,” Elyna perched on the edge of her seat. Skimming the bare flesh of his torso with a professional eye. It all looked to be healing. Pink flesh screamed at the edges of the wounds, “you were amazing though…I don’t know why you were in that house but thank you. Thank you for saving me.”
He forced himself up and her brows lifted to her hairline, “oh no, no no,” Elyna joined him on the edge of the bed and pressed a careful hand to his shoulder, “you’re not going anywhere, not yet. Lie back, please?” She dreaded to think what would happen if he pulled his stitches out too early. He’d been incoherent and unconscious the first time they’d been put in. No one wanted to get stitches sober. “You’ve got time to rest,” she talked fast in her bid to have the man rest. “I’ve been out looking for him today, but the search is done for tonight.”
Elyna wet her bottom lip again, toying with the small wound was almost irresistible. “You’d come with me though? Tomorrow?” She lent to the side, trying to catch his gaze. Wondering if he was still concussed because his eyes weren’t focusing on her directly.
“I don’t know how much longer they’ll let me search,” she lowered her gaze with a glance at the door, “he’s an important man to the Iron Hand, but there just aren’t the resources. Vakhanor, have you ever wanted to fly?

[Vakhanor]

Caught by the depth of Elyna's deep hazel eyes Vakh turned his face to look at her, the truth was that he didn't care what she was or what she had been, or where they were going. Not enough resources she said, not enough time Vakhanor thought in return. Rest would come in time, right now he just wanted to stay in this moment with her so instead he place his palm over her hand and smiled. Facing feelings and wanting things were two of Vakhanor's weaker points in life, more often than not the smith had buried his desires for practicality and flying was one of the many things that as a child he had once dreamed of and gave up on after a rough experience of trying to ride a lizard to the Rynmere dockyards.

"Sure," he relented, gently running his thumb along her skin. This was it, everything he had left was right with him in this room, the last thing he could keep from burning into the flames. "I don't write," he started, furrowing his brow "if I did." Inhaling a deep breath, he could feel a lump form in his throat "Dear Elyna, family must be the foot you put first. It will always be there for you and together you must weather the storms it brings. Love should be the shadow of that footstep," he paused, being poetic had never been the man's strong suit "I'm trying. I did not pay you the courtesy of trying not to quit, I owe you that."

Pain entered his expression as he struggled with the words, frightened of what the truth would bring "Forgive me. I have nothing other than what I am, and..." he turned his head away from her "I have fallen in love with you. That won't be fulfilled, but at least I can give you happiness. Whatever it takes, I am with you." Silence lingered for a moment as he reflected on the words, sad and for the first time in arcs, vulnerable "Vakh."

A tear ran down his cheek in shame for what he had done. There was no going back.

[Elyna]

The young woman’s gaze was caught and held by the man, who was almost a decade her senior. Rough and worldly, his thumb moved over her hand and the motion stung. Tiny shockwaves moving along her skin as she stared at him. He spoke with such depth and sincerity, that it was hard to remain focused on anything outside the room. He spoke the deep truth and left himself vulnerable. His heart exposed and bleeding as the words of his letter faded. Elyna had never been much of a reader and so spoken words held more resonance for her. She could imagine them better and form them into a story. Perhaps it was why she struggled to communicate with Malcolm, because they were both more inclined to listen than speak.
Vakhanor spoke and it sounded like fairy story. He had fallen in love with her. It wasn’t something she had stolen from him, reluctantly, and against his better judgement. Her own heart felt heavy in her chest and she moved forward. The young woman rested a cool palm against his cheek and lent in, pressing her kiss to his lips as she had done before. The shattered pieces of her heart were ground to dust, she was a terrible person for being weak and for wanting simple things. The door was fastened and they were alone, this moment was theirs. Heat rose along her neck and down her arms. She lingered, wondering if like before he would react with violence, stomach twisting with nervous anticipation.

[Vakhanor]

Defenseless against his heart Vakhanor resigned to his ardor, losing himself in the calm and intimate embrace of her lips. Time had a funny way of changing things and the closer he got to Elyna the more he wished life were different, that he maybe even had a chance to love the woman whose kiss coaxed him back to his heart.

Let go…

Temptation tugged the tightrope that balanced who he was, enticing him to fall. And fall he did as he pushed past the pain to grab her by the waist, seizing her lips once more. Memories of the past held no power over him in the moments that impulse left him without armour, leaving him wanton for her touch. As fleeting in their arrival as pain could be dealt by the swing of a sword, morality eventually took over and Vakhanor pulled away “fuck,” he cursed, rubbing his face with his hands in frustration.

Taking a deep breath Vakhanor closed his eyes to settle himself to slow the beating of his heart, trying to calm the clammy intensity of the heat he shared with the young woman beside him. Vakhanor felt sick to his stomach, what idiot fell in love with a woman a decade younger than them, let alone one that had already promised her heart to another.

“You-,” he lifted his hand toward her, stopping mid-air to halt his words and turned met her eyes with a baffled expression “what am I to you?” he asked, relaxing back into his skin. The smith’s expectations for what would happen next had been discarded through a window, what in Faldrun's pit were they doing?

[Elyna]

The kiss was returned, and Elyna wasn’t sure who was more surprised. His fingers went through her hair and curled around her waist. Pulled towards him so that her body pressed sidelong to his. Heart thundering against ribs that seemed too small to contain it. It wasn’t the same as kissing Malcolm, there was something dangerous in it. A spark of fear that could be as intoxicating as pain, and just as deadly. There was sweetness in his touch and the continued vulnerability. She held his heart in her hands and she didn’t want to hurt him. Elyna wanted to escape and forget. She wanted to be, for as long as she could be, someone else. Someone without responsibility; someone who didn’t deserve to be hurt. However, there was no escaping herself. She’d spent the best part of a year fighting with the man she belonged to. She was Malcolm’s heart, mind and soul. Even if sometimes her body betrayed her, and the world became too much to bear. She had pushed her lover to the edge of his restraint, in the hope that he would prove her right. She was not worthy of him. Surely this proved it once and for all. Malcolm deserved better than her fickle faithfulness. He’d spent an arc accusing her of infidelity and she hadn’t been able to deny the actions of his son.
The kiss broke and left her hungry for more, burning to leave the world behind and life destroyed. Tears lined her lashes as she watched Vakhanor and fought to steady her breath. There was a choice to be made. Stay and continue burning down the house, or leave and carry on trying to put out fires and salvage the wreckage. Destruction was easier.
What am I to you?
Her lip stung at the split, throbbing. Struggling for coherency the woman took a deep breath. Why all of the questions? She swallowed, because he loved her. He wanted to trust his heart into safe hands. Then he was looking in the wrong place.
“You are my friend, Vakhanor.” She could only speak the truth. She loved him, but it would be cruel to say that now. Now that her every breath would be consumed with finding Malcolm.

[Vakhanor]

"You are my friend, Vakhanor."

"Then let's keep it that way," he muttered, lifting his hand to wipe the tears from Elyna's eyes "and go and save the man you really love." Truth was a twisted dagger that bore less pain than he'd anticipated; the real thing that was nagging at him now was the physical pain that came with getting over euphoria.

A groan left the smith's lips as he lay back against the bed, unsatisfied with his current situation. Usually he'd go to a forge to calm his emotions and focus on his work, but injuries forced him to rest in the confine of four walls with nobody but Elyna to keep him company. Once again the molten fire of his heart cooled into obsidian slag, burying the feelings that he'd felt for the young woman only moments ago.

Love consumed by darkness was easier to deal with than the incessant sobbing of women, and regardless of Elyna’s nature he was in no state to put up with it.

Tomorrow would be there soon enough and he'd be allowed to move again, allowed to live what was left of what little time remained of his life. Death loomed around every corner and now, he had even more enemies. “We’ll find him…” he said, closing his eyes Vakhanor to let everything drift away and faded into a deep slumber into a dream. The Aukari left the world and wandered deeper into the back of his consciousness where torture slept and the guilt of kissing a woman who didn’t love him drifted into nothing.

[Whisper]

Elyna Burhan

Awarded Points

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/5
Structure: 5/5
These points can/cannot be spent in magic

Awarded Knowledge

Discipline: Giving in to Lust
Medicine: A Cool Air to Help Burns
Medicine: Ensure the Injured Rest
Seduction: Infidelity
Seduction: Moments of Weakness

Awarded Extras

Loot & Losses	Injuries
None	None
Fame	Devotion
None	None

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Vakhanor

Awarded Points

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/5
Structure: 5/5
These points can/cannot be spent in magic

Awarded Knowledge

Elyna: Beautiful
Elyna: Helped me Recover
Location: House Burhan
Seduction: Moments of Weakness

Awarded Extras

Loot & Losses	Injuries
None	None
Fame	Devotion
None	None

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Comments

This was a really emotional thread, in it's own way. I had to double-take and read the end posts twice 'cause I couldn't believe that Elyna would do that to Malcolm! Vakhanor must be something special to sneak into her heart like that!

If you have any questions, comments or criticism about your review, feel free to send me a PM and we can discuss it.
Thank ye.