Episode 75 My Magic Thinks It Needs You
My Magic Thinks It Needs You
Arisanna looks nervously at Tharios as he closes the door behind Cerian. What in the world does he want to talk about?
“I know enough about humans to guess no one addressed this with you before you binded with Cerian, so we’re going to talk now, all right, Arisanna?”
She nods, though she has no idea what he means.
He pulls a small vial from his pocket. “This is a short-term, temporary measure while you’re getting your bearings and deciding what you want from your lives together.
There are other options that are more long-term, and we can discuss those, too.
But for now, take one drop of this every night, all right?
This is a Lothlesi medicinal, and since human and Lothlesi physiology is very similar, it should work for you as well. ”
She eyes the vial in his hand, reaching for it when he offers it to her. “I don’t understand. What’s it for?”
Tharios chuckles. “Forgive me. I should have been more clear. It’s a preventative. Until you and Cerian are ready for elflings.”
Heat floods her cheeks. “Oh.”
“Give some thought to your future, and come see me if you wish to discuss other options. Or if you run out.”
She studies the liquid in the amber vial, holding it up to the light. “We don’t have things like this in Nunia,” she says quietly. “I thought—”
“You had no options? You definitely have options. It would be wise to consider them.”
“Do all elves—”
“Most do, though elves are usually less fertile than humans. I don’t know what to expect for you. But you have a lot of years ahead of you, Arisanna. And I’m not sure my brother is ready to be a father.”
Stars above. That’s an understatement.
Maybe someday but definitely not this day.
“So one drop every night, and that’s all it takes?” she asks. If she thinks of Tharios as a healer rather than her brother-in-law, this conversation feels less awkward.
“Yes. Every night.”
“And…there are other ways, too?”
“Yes. When we return to Lostariel, we can discuss them. I need to check on Elowyn now. Remember, every night.”
She nods. “Thank you.”
“Thank you, Arisanna. For loving Cerian just the way he is.” Tharios slips through the door before she can respond, and she sets the vial on the bedside table.
Every night.
That will be an awkward conversation to have with Cerian. That’s a problem for later, though.
For now, she eyes the tiny water closet longingly.
A shower. A narrow one, but a shower, nonetheless.
She could wash up quickly, couldn’t she? She’d have to put her shimmeron dress back on after, but somehow it still smells fresh despite all the time she and Cerian spent traipsing through the woods and riding on horseback the past few days.
Unlike the rest of her.
No one has said anything, but she occasionally catches a whiff of herself that’s less than pleasant.
Mother is occupied, and Cerian is with Elowyn. Now would be a good time.
Though just thinking of Cerian makes her long for him. His heartbeat is steady in her chest, but it calls to her. The closer they grow, the more it feels like she wouldn’t even need Tharios and his life magic to find Cerian.
Her heart would lead her right to him.
Does he feel the same pull she does? He must.
She glances at the water closet again. Just a quick shower.
Then she’ll search for some food that won’t make him gag and go find him.
Quickly, she slips her gown off and turns on the tap as gloriously warm water pours in a stream from overhead.
Stepping into the shower, she groans. They need one of these at Windhaven.
An assortment of soaps lines a ledge, and she sniffs each one, immediately putting back the musky scent with a hint of pine, leaving a floral soap and a fruity one to choose from. Which scent would Cerian like best?
The fruit one reminds her of his berry scent, and she breathes it in again as a smile fills her face.
Definitely the one that smells like berries.
Quickly, she washes her hair and scrubs her grimy skin before shutting off the water and reaching for a fluffy towel.
As she wraps it around herself, Cerian’s heart speeds up, and she frowns. Is he all right? Is Elowyn all right? And Rominy?
She barely has time to contemplate that when something slithers around her ankle toward her knee, and she bites back a scream.
“Whistling wind.” Cerian’s voice carries through the door as Arisanna glimpses what’s clearly one of his vines retreating on itself. “Forgive me,” he says loud enough for her to hear. “That was not intentional.”
That was terrifying. Her heart pounds to match his for an altogether different reason, no doubt.
He’s definitely not thinking about Elowyn at the moment.
“Are you all right?” he asks. “I’m sorry. I’ll...I’ll go. I didn’t mean—”
Without thinking, she opens the door. “I nearly jumped out of my skin, but I’m fine. You don’t need to leave. Just...warn me next time so you don’t scare me, all right?”
His eyes widen as he looks at her, and she glances down at the towel that barely covers everything it should.
Stars above.
“I felt grimy, and I assumed you’d sit with Elowyn for a while,” she whispers.
“I...I missed you. Forgive me. I’ll go. I—”
Holding the towel in place, she sets her free hand over his racing heart. He’s already running hot. “You missed me?”
“Whistling wind, Arisanna. I was going mad without you. As soon as I left, all I could focus on was you. Then Tharios said you’d finished discussing whatever it is you discussed, and I returned because I couldn’t think straight without you.
But you were showering, and now my magic thinks it needs you. ”
As he stares into her eyes, the smoky scent around him grows stronger.
“That was a lot of words,” she whispers.
The intensity of his gaze doesn’t waver, and her heart races. It’s not just his magic that wants her.
She lifts a shoulder in a half shrug. “Here I am.”
Cerian’s jaw works as he gazes at her. What is he thinking? A moment later, he steps away. What is he doing?
She flinches when flames erupt between his palms, but still, he doesn’t look away.
Is this how he would have looked at her last night had he been able to see her? The thought tightens something in her belly as both their hearts thrum in her ears.
When his flames go out, he steps toward her again, those emerald eyes still locked on her face. Her back bumps against the wall as he leans so near that her senses are full of smoke and sparks and berries.
“Did you mean what you said earlier? About my magic?” His breath is warm on her ear, sending shivers down her arm as water from her shower drips off her hair and runs in rivulets down her legs. She could definitely use some of his heat now.
“It’s...it’s part of you,” she whispers. “And I...I want all of you.”
“I love you, Arisanna. Are you certain?”
She nods against him, and when a vine tickles her foot, her breath hitches. “Can you...can you feel things with your plants, my elven prince?”
“When I choose to.” His nose nuzzles her ear, and he leans his hands on the wall on either side of her. Warmth emanates from him to match the heat growing inside her, and she breathes in that sweet, smoky scent that’s so uniquely his.
“And...and now?” she asks as his vine slowly snakes along her calf toward her knee.
“I feel everything.”
“E-Everything?”
“Everything.”
The vine trails higher along her leg toward her hip, and she slides her eyes closed as his warm lips tease the chilled flesh of her shoulder.
“You’re cold,” he whispers.
Before she can respond, a pillow of warm air cocoons her, and she sighs. “I love your magic.”
“My...my magic is very fond of you, too. Are you certain—”
“Yes.”
He finds her lips with his own as his vine slides higher along her body. Stars above.
A knock at the door makes her jump, and Cerian looks at her with wide eyes. His vine lies frozen against her flesh, and neither of them moves.
Perhaps this was poorly thought out.
“Arisanna? Are you in there?” Mother calls through the door.
Cerian’s eyes darken as his vine recedes, and Arisanna’s heart pounds for a different reason than it did moments ago.
“I need to get dressed,” she whispers. “Can you talk to her for a few minutes?”
Horror fills his eyes. That may be asking too much.
“Maybe not talk. Just...don’t glare at her while she talks to you?” Arisanna asks.
Fear and indecision wrestle in his gaze, and she nods. “I’ll ask her to come back in a few minutes. That will work.”
“No. I will...not glare at her. For you.”
“Oh, Cerian, thank you. I’ll be quick. I promise.” She rises on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek, and he catches her fingers as she turns to go.
“Thank you,” he whispers. “For loving all of me.”
“Always. I’ll be right back.”
She hurries into the water closet to finish drying off and put her gown back on. Hopefully, he’ll manage.
Thoughts of his vines and his kiss and the way he looked at her warm her, and a smile steals across her face.
Her elven prince.
Then she frowns.
Alone with her mother.
Hopefully, this isn’t a disaster.