Episode 161 I’m Glad You’re on My Side
I’m Glad You’re on My Side
Something drags Tharios out of a sound sleep, and he groans.
“Welcome back, elf prince.” Viala finds his lips in a kiss, and he doesn’t resist as he slides his hand along her silky skin.
“Mmm, that’s nice, my love,” she whispers as he kisses her neck. “But someone is knocking on our door.”
He freezes and blinks a few times to wake up.
Another knock sounds, and he groans again. “Just a minute!” Then he pokes Viala. “You should have told me that before you kissed me.”
She just laughs. How she loves tormenting him.
While simultaneously being everything to him.
“I know,” she whispers more seriously. “I hear the thoughts you can’t put into words.
You’re my stronger-together love, too.” She gives him another soft kiss before climbing off the tiny bed Cerian grew for them last night.
She tosses Tharios his clothes, and he hurries to dress while she tugs on her own leathers.
Whistling wind, she’s stunning in leather.
In anything, really.
She grins at him and winks, and he shakes his head. She likes to catch him staring.
He finally opens the door to find Rafelis leaning against the wall outside.
“I was about to push my way in to make sure you were still alive,” Rafelis says as he straightens.
“Funny.”
As if Rafelis couldn’t sense Tharios’s magic from a mile away.
Rafelis smiles. “I thought so. Here.” He shoves something cold and wet into Tharios’s arms. “I need an air wielder, and you’re it.”
“Father busy?” Tharios examines the bundle. It’s Jonas’s jacket and shirt, freshly washed. “Ah. You didn’t ask him.”
“I did not.”
“Because this is my responsibility.”
“Indeed.”
Tharios sighs. “Rafelis, I am sorry. Everything Father told me last night—he was right. And if I could go back—”
“You can’t. None of us can. What you can do is dry Jonas’s jacket and be grateful this lesson wasn’t more hard learned. You will make many more mistakes. We all will.”
Tharios runs his thumb over the ragged edge where the arrow pierced the jacket. “I was afraid you wouldn’t wish to speak to me today.”
“Hey, look at me.”
Tharios lifts his eyes to Rafelis’s.
“I have been watching over you since the day you were born. Before that even. You are a symbol for our entire kingdom of what is possible. But you are not perfect, and I have never expected that from you, have I?”
Tharios shakes his head. So much of his life magic was learned from the man standing before him when Mother couldn’t teach him any longer. Rafelis stepped into her place without a word and continued teaching Tharios everything he knew.
“What you and I have doesn’t end because you made a mistake,” Rafelis continues. “Do you hear me?”
“I hear you.”
“Good. Now dry that and return it to Jonas so we can discuss what happens next.” Rafelis claps him on the shoulder before striding away.
Viala’s arms wrap around Tharios. “You are loved, Tharios. By so many.”
He exhales softly and holds up the jacket. “Father could do this faster than I can, and Rafelis knows it.”
“But he brought it to you.”
“Because Jonas and Taliel are my responsibility now.” Tharios looks around. This would be faster with heat. “Time to find a fire wielder.”
“And perhaps a water wielder?”
Tharios grins. “I know just the elf.”
Elowyn blinks at the blue sky overhead. The heartlanding?
No, the woods. The waypoint.
It’s a chilly morning. She glances at Rominy slumbering beside her. They usually wake together, but they didn’t visit the heartlanding again last night. Perhaps they both needed dreamless sleep more than anything.
He looks so peaceful. Safe. Images of him with an arrow in his chest intrude on her thoughts, as they’ve been doing since Jonas was hit. Perhaps this was a mistake, bringing Rominy to Lostariel. Putting him in danger.
She sighs. She didn’t think it would be this hard being both the warrior princess and his future queen.
Let him sleep. She won’t wake him now. After blanketing the air around him with her heat, she rises. Several of Pera’s warriors guard the woods nearby. Rominy should be safe here.
After combing her fingers through her tangled hair, she braids it and steps into the clearing surrounding the stone shelter.
“Just the elf I was looking for.” Tharios approaches Elowyn with what looks like Jonas’s guard jacket.
“I hope you rested,” Elowyn says as concern for Tharios mixes with her concern for Rominy.
“I did. Cerian made sure of it.”
Cerian? That’s unexpected. She doesn’t question Tharios, though. “Do you need something?”
“I need to dry these for Jonas, and it will go faster if we work together. Whoever washed it drew out most of the water, but it’s still damp. Especially the jacket.”
“Let me see.”
He hands the jacket to her, and she pulls most of the remaining water from it as Cerian wanders their direction. He’s alone. Arisanna must be asleep somewhere nearby.
“Can I help?” he asks.
Elowyn smiles. “Just like old times.”
Cerian quickly grows a frame to hang the clothing from. It’s been a while since they did this sort of thing as part of their training in working together that Pera insisted on.
“Who’s fire wielding?” Tharios asks.
“I’ve got it,” Elowyn says. “Will you hold everything in place, Cer?”
He nods, and she extends her hands, pushing heat toward the clothing while holding her flames back. Tharios creates a whirlwind of air surrounding everything.
Eventually, Cerian reaches out to check their progress. “Almost.”
“Have you seen them yet?” Elowyn warms the air Tharios blows toward the damp jacket.
“Not yet. I’m going to check on them when I deliver his clothes. I might need you to point me in the right direction, Cer.”
“It’s back that way.” Cerian gestures.
“I’ll find it,” Tharios says. “Thank you for the shelter. I needed it.”
Ah. So that’s how Cerian helped him rest. The thought warms Elowyn’s heart.
Cerian nods. “I think it’s dry now.”
They all reach for the frame he grew, and as Elowyn’s hand closes around one of the branches, Tharios grins her way.
“No,” Cerian says.
“‘No magic’ is what he means.” Elowyn quickly breaks off a stick.
“That is not what I meant.” Cerian grips his own stick, anyway.
Tharios tosses the clean clothing at Viala, and she just shakes her head.
Elowyn sets her feet apart as she grips her branch in both hands and glances from Cerian to Tharios. Perhaps sparring will relieve some of her tension.
“Why are we doing this?” Cerian asks.
“Are you even a Thariosi?” Tharios makes the first move, lunging at Elowyn, and she spins away. Her stick connects with his back.
“That’s one for me. You’re slow today, Tharios.”
“I almost died yesterday. Was that yesterday?”
“I have no idea what day it is.” She lunges at him, and he deflects.
“It was the day before yesterday,” Cerian mumbles as he darts his gaze between them.
Elowyn steps to the side, and Tharios matches her movement. He takes a swing, and their poles connect once, twice, three times in rapid succession before Elowyn slides out of the way, and Tharios stumbles forward.
Cerian takes the opportunity to whack him.
“That was a cheap shot, Cer,” Tharios says, and Cerian shrugs.
“I don’t make the rules.”
Tharios spins around with his stick low and hooks Cerian’s legs, pulling them out from under him as he falls backward.
“Now that was a cheap shot.” Cerian’s on his feet again in about two seconds.
“You’re barely even trying,” Tharios says as they circle.
“Cerian always starts slow.” Elowyn spins between them and smacks them both before they can deflect. “That’s three for me. Keep up, guys.”
Cerian catches her thigh before she can dodge him, and she deflects Tharios’s lunge. Cerian swings again behind her, and she bats his attack away just in time to fight off Tharios in front of her.
Perhaps jumping between them was unwise.
Tharios’s branch connects with her left flank while she defends against Cerian’s growing aggression. Cerian always takes a while to warm up.
Movement catches her eye as she spins toward Cerian.
Rominy. Whistling wind, his eyes are wide.
Tharios catches her upper arm while she’s distracted. “That’s three. What are we playing to? Five?”
Cerian comes at her with a series of rapid attacks, and it takes all her concentration to keep up with him as their sticks clack over and over.
She swings wide, and Cerian ducks as her pole hits Tharios instead. Cerian shoves his stick toward her, connecting with her hip, and then back at Tharios’s stomach.
“That’s four,” Cerian grunts.
“Oof. That’s going to leave a mark.” Tharios rubs at his leathers where Cerian caught him. “Thanks, Cer.”
“Sorry.” Cerian is in the middle now, fighting them off as he spins between them.
He’s the best at this little game of theirs. Not that Elowyn or Tharios will ever admit it.
Tharios is too used to relying on his magic to keep up.
But this round is hers. One more tap, and she’ll claim victory.
Cerian’s not making it easy, deflecting everything she sends him even as he keeps Tharios at bay on his other side.
Then Cerian’s eyes grow wide, and he stumbles.
Victory. She can taste it. She swings her pole toward him, only for Tharios to deflect her attack.
“Not so fast, El,” Tharios says.
Cerian scrambles to his feet as Elowyn meets Tharios’s attacks.
Then she spots Arisanna standing under a nearby tree. That must be what distracted Cerian. Will he back off or fight harder with her watching? Elowyn keeps her eye on him as Tharios beats her back toward the stone shelter.
And then with a growl, Cerian runs toward them, catching them both with one swing. “That’s six. I win.”
Tharios grabs him around the neck before he can slink away. “Show off. We all know what distracted you, little brother.”
Elowyn laughs as she tosses down her stick. “I almost won that time!”
“Like you weren’t distracted, too.” Tharios grins as he wraps his other arm around her shoulders. “Thank the fates you’re both on my side. I wouldn’t want to meet either of you in a real battle.”
Elowyn looks up to see Rominy sauntering toward her.
“As if I wasn’t already terrified of you,” he says. “In a good way.”
Tharios lets her go, and she wraps her arms around Rominy’s neck. They seem to have gained an audience.
“I need to take these to Jonas,” Tharios says. “Then I think everyone’s waiting for us inside.”
“Or out here.”
Elowyn looks over her shoulder at Pera leaning against the stone shelter with his arm around Mother. They’re both smiling.
“If you’re done slaughtering each other, we need to talk,” Mother says. “Our breakfast will be ready soon.” They head inside, and Elowyn gazes back up at Rominy. He’s safe for now. She’ll hold on to that.
“Hungry, my love?” she asks.
He leans near. “Definitely hungry.” Then he nuzzles her ear with his nose. “But that appetite will have to wait.”
Laughter fills her, and she steals a kiss before he can move.
“Come on,” she says. “Food for now. Other things later.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
Cerian busies himself looking at his hands. Pretending Sanna didn’t see all of that. Or at least the end of it.
“And I thought you only trained with magic.” Arisanna’s voice comes softly beside him, and he glances at her before looking back at his hands and shaking his head.
“Are you warm enough?” he asks.
“Are you afraid?”
He looks at her again. “Afraid?”
“That I’ll find you terrifying?”
He gazes off into the forest. “Do you?”
“Should I?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes I terrify myself.” He whispers it so quietly that even he can barely hear the words.
“I’m not scared of you, Cerian.” She turns his chin until his eyes meet hers. She says nothing else, at least not with her voice. Her gaze is full of words, though.
Words that fill the uncertain parts of his heart.
“Let’s join the others, my elven prince,” she whispers. She offers him a hand, but he wraps his arm around her instead, and she leans her head against him as they follow the others inside.