Episode 57
I Have Plans for You Tonight
Rominy breathes out slowly as he gazes down at himself.
Leather.
Elowyn looks amazing in leather.
He just feels ridiculous, as if he’s playing dress up in someone else’s clothes.
There’s nothing for it. With a sigh, he opens the door to join Elowyn in their little sitting room. He didn’t ask her to leave, but he would have felt even more awkward in his new ensemble if she had watched him put it on.
She’s leaning against the stairwell near the door, and she looks up when he appears. Her eyes sweep over him as his heart pounds.
Then she trails her eyes over him again.
“I told you I couldn’t pull off leather,” he mumbles, and she laughs before pushing away from the wall and walking toward him.
“I find myself reconsidering my plan to visit the labyrinth,” she says.
“What?”
She clutches his collar and pulls him closer.
And then she kisses him. It’s not like the other kisses she’s initiated. This one is demanding as she wraps her arms around his neck and hangs on him while her body melds with his.
Stars above.
Maybe she likes him in leather after all.
The sparks on her tongue are tantalizing but overwhelming, and she feels like fire. He can barely taste her water magic. She’s all smoke and heat as she digs her hands into his hair.
“Elowyn.” He pulls away slightly.
“Just kiss me, Rominy,” she breathes near his ear. “Forget about chasing dragons.”
She finds his lips again, and every inch of his body longs to do exactly that.
To follow this wherever it leads. But she’ll either burn him or dehydrate herself at the rate she’s going.
When she slips her hands under his shirt, he flinches as her heat hits the sensitive skin at his stomach, though her touch sends shivers racing through him.
“Elowyn, love, you’re like fire,” he murmurs against her lips.
She stiffens, and her eyes snap open before she pulls away and starts cursing in Elvish. At least it sounds like she’s cursing. Then she flings a set of fireballs at the hearth across the room, and he jumps.
This side of her is both fascinating and a little terrifying. He saw a hint of it with the doctor earlier.
And she is magnificent with her leathers and her painted eyes. Not to mention the fire magic flying from her in an apparent attempt to obliterate the hearth while mumbling who knows what under her breath.
The urge to draw her into his arms again is strong, but he doesn’t dare get too close to her flames. Unsure what else to do, he waits while she works through whatever this is.
After a few minutes, she quiets and her fire grows less intense. Eventually, it dissipates altogether, and when she turns sheepish eyes toward him, he struggles not to smile.
“Forgive me,” she whispers. “I’m told I inherited my mother’s fiery spirit to go with my father’s fire magic. I’m usually better at controlling both.”
It’s hard to imagine Queen Nestraya like that, but Rominy doesn’t question Elowyn. The elven queen was rumored to be a fierce warrior once, after all.
“I love you,” he says softly instead. “Do you...want to talk about it?”
It takes her a few moments to respond. “It’s hard being so far from my family right now. My parents tried to prepare me for everything, but...” Looking away, she sighs and shrugs.
She seems so lost standing there. He just wants to wrap his arms around her and somehow make everything all right. “I won’t burn myself if I touch you, will I?”
With a soft smile, she shakes her head. “I’m better now.”
He pulls her to his chest, and she leans into him. She’s still warm but not fiery like she was. They haven’t done this much—the comforting touch of companionship. It feels right.
Everything about Elowyn feels right.
“I probably shocked you with that kiss,” she whispers against him. “I think I got carried away.”
He laughs at her understatement. “It was a little shocking. But I’m not complaining. At all. I didn’t want to stop you, so don’t you dare apologize.” After a moment, he adds, “I feel ridiculous in leather.”
She looks up at him and shakes her head. “You set me on fire. I like you in leather.”
The way she looks at him now threatens to ignite his own burning heat again as the memory of her hands sliding against his flesh fills his head.
Slowly, he breathes out, and she rests her hand over his heart and takes a deep breath of her own.
“I think you promised to paint my eyes,” he whispers once his racing pulse has slowed. “Because we’re chasing dragons, love. And tonight, I’m a Prince of Lostariel.”
Her face lights up in that gorgeous smile of hers and sets his heart racing all over again as she tugs him back to the mirror to finish turning him into a prince of the elves.
Let Rominy think whatever he wants. He wears ayervadi leather as well as any elf Elowyn has seen. And when she finishes lining his eyes with korathite, which is such an intimate act all on its own, it takes all her willpower not to throw herself at him again.
Her fire magic is quieter now after she let off some heat during that diatribe of hers. Hopefully, Rominy didn’t understand most of what she said as she berated her fire magic. Still, the heat simmers just beneath the surface, and she doesn’t dare let it out again right now.
Besides, their dragon is waiting.
“That...is a startling transformation,” Rominy says as he studies his reflection. “My mother would faint if she saw me right now.” He turns toward Elowyn. If he’s noticed her racing heart, he hasn’t said anything. “What do you think? Will I pass as an elf?”
As she steps closer, a smile turns up the corner of his mouth, and something deep within her belly tightens. “You don’t need to be an elf to be a prince among my people, Rominy. Who you are is enough.”
How many times she heard that as an elfling. Who you are is enough. It warms her heart to say it to Rominy now. Will she say it to their own younglings someday?
“I appreciate your vote of confidence,” he says. “Would it be forward of this prince to ask for a fortifying kiss before he faces near-certain death?”
There’s a teasing glint in his eyes, but it doesn’t mask the longing he keeps trying to hide.
She shoves back her fire magic and lifts her lips to his in a soft kiss, though she doesn’t linger, and he doesn’t ask her to.
Instead, he smiles and offers her his hand. “Lead the way, love.”
Every time he calls her that, her pulse quickens. He must feel it, too. But he says nothing, and together they make their way outside.
It’s dark beyond their magic-lit cottage, and the garden is quiet, save for the croaking of frogs in the small pond at the edge of the hedge. Rominy’s hand tightens around hers, and she creates an orb of yellow light in front of them to illuminate their path.
“Now remember, I have magic,” she says. “While I appreciate your valor, I never wish to watch you die again.” She glances up in time to see him gulp as he nods.
“You’d better not die either.”
Something dark crosses his eyes, and she stops walking, tugging him closer. “Rominy, I am fine. I am not dying. You promised not to dwell on it.”
“I’m trying not to. Let’s keep going. Give me something else to focus on.”
Turning, they start walking again. Maybe talking will help him.
“What do you know about dragons?” she asks.
He glances at her. “Is that a trick question? Until one killed me, I thought they were creatures of myth and legend.”
She stops again, her brow wrinkling as she gazes up at him. “Dragons are very much real, Rominy. Didn’t you learn about dragons at the university?”
“I...what? No. I learned history and economics and political science. Among other things.”
She cocks her head to the side. “I suppose those would be useful for a future king to know.”
“My father seemed to think so.”
So many words in that statement went unspoken. She could hear them in his voice.
“What did you wish to study?” she asks.
A strained huff of a laugh escapes him as he looks away. “Music.”
“Don’t your parents support your talent?”
He sighs. “Always. But future kings don’t get to choose the paths their lives take.
The day my father handed me my guitar, he told me to keep something for myself to ground me and help me feel human when my life overwhelms me.
But I couldn’t make it the focus of my life.
And he hated every word as he said it. I could tell.
But he was right, and I’ve never blamed him. ”
“He was speaking of your music?”
“Yes. Though somehow that got lost in the shuffle of my studies and my father’s efforts to prepare me to take his place. If I’m being honest, Elowyn...I’m not sure I’m cut out to be a king.” Rominy looks so vulnerable standing there, sharing things with her he probably tells no one else.
“My father felt unprepared for a throne at his own ascension. I imagine most kings do—the good ones, at least. And you won’t be alone.”
Rominy gazes into her eyes in the soft warmth of the magic light she created. That look of longing is back, but he doesn’t act on it.
“I’ll help you find your music again,” she says softly.
Reaching out with his free hand, he trails his fingers down her cheek. “And I’ll help you chase your dragons.” Then he presses the softest of kisses to her lips.
When he pulls away, a yearning to be everything to him fills her.
Not just his queen but his closest friend.
His confidante. His strength at times. His weakness at others.
The first face he sees every morning and the last one he sees at night.
The only person to know him—truly know him—every part of him in every way.
“You’re igniting my own fire with the heat in your eyes,” he whispers. “And I have plans for you tonight, Elowyn Montarac. Plans involving dragons. And not dying. I hope.”
His smile cuts the tension in the air around them, and she laughs before tugging him forward once more.