Episode 110 Priorities
Priorities
Arisanna tries not to stare at Rominy as he lies on the bed beside Elowyn, holding her close while she sleeps.
Why is he so free with his affection around others, while Arisanna can barely give Cerian a hug without turning red?
Perhaps almost losing the other half of your heart puts things in perspective. Images of Cerian near death flash through her head. She’d probably care less what anyone else thought in that situation, too.
She quickly pushes the disturbing idea aside when Cerian whispers in her ear, “What’s wrong? Your heart rate increased.”
“I was just...imagining you near death.”
“Do you often daydream about such things?”
“What?” She looks at him in horror.
“Should I take that as a no?” His lips twitch, and Arisanna stares at him.
Stars above. He’s teasing her.
“Of course I don’t dream about you dying, Cerian. Don’t be ridiculous.”
They sit on the floor in the corner of the room, and she resists doing anything as undignified as rolling her eyes as she leans against his shoulder.
“I’m relieved to hear it.”
She pokes his ribs before she can stop herself, and he laughs. He’s been in a good mood ever since Elowyn awoke. He even dragged Arisanna to the kitchen and pushed out the words to ask Chef for ice himself.
She was so proud of him.
But now he’s just being incorrigible.
“I was observing how free Rominy is with Elowyn. I imagine watching someone you love almost die would change your priorities a little. Make customs like not embracing in public seem silly.”
“So if I almost died, you’d kiss me in front of everyone?”
A smile tugs at her lips to match the grin in his voice. “Probably.”
“How near death are we talking? Just so I know.”
She snaps her gaze toward his laughing eyes. “Cerian!”
“I’m joking.”
“You’re the one who barely kissed me at our wedding.”
“It seems I owe you a kiss, then. Shall we re-enact that scene the way we did the cake cutting?”
“Stars above. My mother would faint.”
“We could instruct her to sit first.”
“Cerian!” Arisanna buries her face in his shoulder and tries not to laugh. “Please tell me you’re not serious.”
“About kissing you? I’m always serious about kissing you.”
She just leans against him and smiles. Then she stills.
He can’t lie to her.
“Your heart sped up again,” he whispers.
She lifts her head to look into his eyes. Is he asking her to kiss him? Here?
His gaze slips briefly to her lips, and her heart pounds.
When he looks into her eyes again, there’s no pressure there. Only longing. And love. A magnetic connection that pulls her toward him.
His breath is warm on her face as she leans closer, tilting her head.
Don’t think. Just feel.
As she hovers near his lips, a faint smokiness fills her senses. He does want to kiss her. But he doesn’t press his lips to hers or pull her closer. He waits for her to decide.
Hopefully, no one is looking. Especially not Mother.
Is she really planning to kiss him? Right here?
Why shouldn’t she kiss him? She’s a Westaria now. She’s seen Cerian’s parents kiss outside in front of everyone. And Viala kisses Tharios all the time. Clearly, this is normal.
But she can’t seem to close the distance between them. He’ll have to do it.
“Kiss me,” she whispers.
And he doesn’t even hesitate. His lips are there, warm against hers, and her heart races. She can barely breathe. Before she can fully process what’s happening, he pulls away. Their eyes meet, and he looks shocked.
Stars above. Did that really happen?
His shock morphs into a grin, and he wraps his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close to his side again before whispering in her ear, “I’m not sure they need us here. Perhaps we should retire early. Get a good night’s sleep.”
Biting her lip, she nods.
He has no intention of sleeping any time soon, and they both know it. No one seems to be watching as they rise and tiptoe to the door.
Just before it shuts behind them, Queen Nestraya’s whispered voice carries to Arisanna’s ears.
“He’s definitely your son.”
Tharios resists the urge to tease Cerian as he and Arisanna kiss in the corner. Then they leave, and Tharios smiles. It’s good to see Cerian happy. And Arisanna would probably be mortified if she knew anyone saw them.
Let them have their fun. There’s nothing they can do for Elowyn tonight, anyway.
He reaches out with his life magic to check on Mother again, pushing past Father’s overwhelming air magic to sense her.
She’d probably give him a dressing down if she realized he was doing it, but it’s worth the risk.
Her life magic still isn’t at its full strength.
At least not the way he remembers it. It’s been so long since he felt the full breadth and depth of her magic as an elfling, but it seems stunted now in a way it shouldn’t.
She needs to rest.
When threads of her life magic brush against his, he claws back his magic and curses under his breath.
Why is she using her magic now? There’s no way she didn’t notice that.
He has two choices. Ignore her and hope she doesn’t realize what he was doing.
Or face her displeasure head-on.
Or a third option. Run. Perhaps Cerian has it right.
“Tharios.”
Too late to run.
He looks up and attempts to hide the guilt filling him. “Yes, Mother?”
Whistling wind. She’s definitely not happy. That much is obvious from the darkness in her eyes beneath her lowered brows.
She’s going to stare at him until he confesses, isn’t she?
“I’m uncertain what’s going on here,” Father says, “but remember you love our elfling, my queen.”
“We have two more without this one,” she says.
“I’m pretty sure we love them all.”
“I’ll let you two sort this out.” Tharios tries to slip past Mother, but she grabs his arm.
“Not so fast.”
That seemed unlikely to work. Especially since he can’t actually leave while Viala sits in the corner, falling asleep over the Elvish book she’s been struggling to read for the past week. Her tenacity warms his heart, but at this particular moment, he wishes she had stayed in their hotel room.
“I’m a healer, Mother. Surely you’re not surprised.”
“I am fine.” She speaks slowly, as if she can will it to be true if she says it with enough feeling.
“You wish to discuss this here? In front of everyone?”
“There is nothing to discuss. I’m fine.”
“Then tell Father instead of me. Tell him your life magic is at full strength.”
After a moment, she looks away. She can’t lie to Father, and she knows it.
She might tell Father she’s fine, and she is. She’s healthy and strong.
But her magic isn’t. Not yet. Maybe not ever. No one has ever done what she did for twenty-three years. There are no books to read or cases to study. No pattern of recovery to expect. They’re in uncharted waters.
“Nestraya?” There’s hurt in Father’s voice. Fear. Disappointment.
Tharios sighs. He didn’t want to do this. He was hoping Mother would own the truth herself.
Everyone awake in the room watches quietly. Even Viala has set her book aside. Rominy’s parents can’t understand what’s being discussed in Elvish, but they’re definitely listening.
“I didn’t want you to worry, Lorial,” Mother says. “Our daughter is our priority right now.”
“So you kept me in the dark? Worded your responses carefully to prevent me from guessing? What am I not supposed to know?”
When Mother doesn’t respond, Father turns to Tharios.
“Tell him,” she whispers, and Tharios sighs.
“Her life magic is not fully recovered. I don’t know if it ever will be.
It feels injured to me. But it won’t get better if you don’t rest it, Mother.
And fully replenish it. I know Elowyn needed you, and I needed your help.
I asked you to help me. But Elowyn is getting better, and if you want a chance at regaining your full strength, you need to rest now. Before this becomes permanent.”
Father rubs his eyes. “One of you should have told me.”
“It wasn’t my place to tell,” Tharios says.
“No,” Mother says. “It was mine. I am sorry, Lorial. I didn’t wish for you to worry. Even if my magic never returns to full strength, I don’t regret for one moment the sacrifice we made.” She glances at Rominy, who watches from the bed. Who knows how much of their conversation he’s followed?
Father draws her close, and she relaxes against him.
“We will get you better, my love,” he whispers. “Whatever it takes.”
“What do you recommend?” Grandmera asks Tharios.
“Rest your life magic, Mother. No exceptions. Give it a chance to recover.” Tharios meets Father’s eyes.
“And flesh contact. As much as you can manage for a few days.” Tharios glances around the room before stepping closer and lowering his voice.
“The more...stimulating the flesh contact, the better her magic might respond.”
Mother buries her face against Father, and Father laughs. “The conversations you don’t anticipate having with your elflings.”
“Trust me. It goes both ways.”
“If Elowyn needs us, you’ll send someone?” Father asks.
“Of course.”
“I don’t wish for her to worry,” Mother says.
“I know. But you need to care for yourself, too. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?”
Mother sighs and nods. “I love you, Tharios. Even when I’m not happy with you.”
“I’ve never doubted it. Now go rest.”
Father clears his throat before whispering in Tharios’s ear, and Tharios grins. “You mean you don’t want more of us?”
He doesn’t wait for Father to answer before working his life magic. If he doesn’t do it, Mother will almost certainly ignore his strictures and do it herself.
“That will last for a week,” he says. “After that, you’re on your own.”
Father nods. “Understood. Thank you.”
“Don’t forget to rest,” Mother says. “I’m not the only one who pretends to be invincible.”
“He will rest. I’ll see to it,” Viala says from her nearby chair.
“I will,” Tharios says. “Don’t worry about me.”
“You will find someday that parenthood is an endless stream of worries, Tharios,” Father says, and Grandmera smiles nearby.
“It is indeed. Now do as your healer has ordered. We will survive without you, and we know where to find you.”
Father turns to Gerault and speaks in Nunian.
“Forgive us. Without delving into the details, the gist of our conversation is that my wife has not fully recovered from her years linking our children’s hearts.
I trust you will look after our young ones while I see to replenishing my wife’s magic stores. ”
“I won’t pretend to understand,” Gerault says, “but our young ones will be well cared for while you do what you need to do.”
“Including the ones upstairs?” Mother says with a laugh.
“Heaven help me,” Queen Yalisa murmurs. “It’s a good thing I was sitting down.”
Tharios grins. Thank the fates she doesn’t understand Elvish.