Elven Heartbound, The Fourth Season

Episode 131 Wait for Me

Wait for Me

“I’m regretting that second cup of tea,” Arisanna whispers against Cerian’s back as they fly through the Wildthorne Woods on Tharios’s horse, Nebula.

Each rise and fall against the black stallion leaves her rethinking her beverage choices before they left Feressa to deliver news to Darlei of rebel elves attacking Tharios.

Cerian glances over his shoulder at her. Then he pulls up on the reins, and Nebula careens to a prancing stop.

Arisanna will never say it, but it’s clear Cerian and Nebula don’t spend much time together.

Cerian’s horse is a gentle but swift gelding they left in Darlei.

Nebula is a stallion fit for a future king. That he makes Cerian nervous is obvious, but so far, Cerian’s managed to control the magnificent creature well enough.

“Wait for me,” Cerian says as he helps Arisanna to her feet on the moss-covered ground.

He wants her to wait? Stars above. Is he planning to accompany her?

And she thought watching him brush his teeth was a whole new level of intimacy.

He hops down beside her, somehow not making a sound as he lands, and quickly ties Nebula to a tree. His eyes dart in every direction, but it’s not like when he’s on the verge of panic and about to run.

This is a side of him she’s rarely seen, almost as if a warrior elf lurks inside him, and that’s the Cerian who stands beside her now.

That shouldn’t surprise her, though. He is the son of Lorial and Nestraya. He’s probably been training with the most skilled warriors in all of Lostariel since he was an elfling.

He takes her hand and leads her between some bushes near a fallen log.

Well. They’re definitely not in their honeymoon suite anymore.

He doesn’t look at her as she fumbles with the fastening on Elowyn’s borrowed trousers. She got them on by herself, but taking them off seems to be a different matter entirely.

“What’s wrong?” Cerian asks.

“I can’t get them off.”

He steps in front of her, and with a swift push and twist, the fastening on the trousers comes undone.

“I may need you to show me how to do that,” she whispers.

“Later. We need to keep moving. Do what you need to do.”

Right.

She managed in the woods on his birthday, but he wasn’t standing right next to her at the time. And she wasn’t wearing trousers.

Memories of their last visit to the heartlanding fill her—moments of intense passion in a drizzly guest chamber in Levina that ended with him begging her for mercy. If she can do that with him, surely she can manage this.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I know this is awkward.”

“Just a little.”

“Nothing between us.” A faint smile crosses his face before he’s on alert again, and she sets about doing what she needs to do.

“Nothing between us, indeed.”

She manages without too much trouble, and he fastens the confusing hooks for her before she can fumble with them.

“Are we good?” he asks, and she nods.

“Thank you.”

He presses a kiss to her temple as he leads her out of the bushes, and she runs into him when he stops suddenly. She’s pressed against his chest before she even realizes what’s happening.

“Don’t move,” he breathes in her ear, and she doesn’t.

But what did he see? Everything looks normal. Well, it looks like trees. Still, the trees look normal.

And there’s no movement. No unusual sounds.

Then her stomach drops.

And no horse.

Viala glances around the trees again, willing someone to appear, but no one does. Did her message on the wind reach Feressa? Or are she and Tharios well and truly alone as Tharios drains his life magic in an attempt to keep this rebel elf alive?

She presses her chest against his back beneath the blanket she wraps around them both as he kneels before the dying elf.

Tharios grows colder by the minute.

“Tharios,” Viala says softly. “It may be time to let him go.”

“I can hold out a little longer.” His voice is weak, and he trembles against her.

“Let go, elf prince. I will not lose you like this.”

“Just a little longer.”

“If you don’t let him go, I will stop you myself. You mean too much to me—too much to everyone—to sacrifice yourself for this elf.”

“For the information he could give us. I need to keep him alive long enough to talk.”

“Tharios. My love. His heart is barely beating. Your heart will stop along with his long before he gains the strength to answer anyone’s questions.”

“Just a little longer. Please.”

If only she could better control her own magic, they could take turns keeping the rebel alive.

But she’d probably kill him trying.

Movement in the grass beside her draws her eyes to the unicorn responsible for this mess. Stardust’s horn still bears the stain of blood from the elf she stabbed while trying to protect Tharios.

Viala would blame the magical beast for the life that drains from Tharios now, but she can’t. Stardust was protecting her beloved Tharios. Viala can’t fault her for that.

And now, Stardust nudges Tharios’s cheek with her nose.

“Stardust, go,” Tharios says in the quietest voice imaginable.

“I believe she’s trying to help you.”

Tharios slumps, and Viala’s stomach knots as Stardust presses her nose to Tharios’s chest.

“Tharios. My love. It’s time.”

Fear fills her when he doesn’t respond.

“Tharios!” Viala pulls him back, and he doesn’t fight her as she lowers him to the blanket. “Tharios, no. Please, no. Talk to me, elf prince.”

She presses her ear to his chest. His heart still beats, faint but steady. Tears course down her cheeks as she crawls on top of him, pressing as much of her flesh to his as possible. Stardust nuzzles his cheek, but still he doesn’t respond.

“Tharios! You promised me younglings. Will they have your ears? My magic? We need to find out still. You can’t leave me yet.”

Sobs wrack her body as she tries not to think. Not to let her magic hurt him. When a gentle rain starts to fall, she looks up in surprise. Did her tears cause that? Wasn’t the sun shining?

Not that it matters. Let the sun fall from the sky if this elf passes from the light. She buries her face against him and lets her tears flow.

Then she hears it. Horses. The pounding of hooves. More rebels? Or did her messages get through?

A shield. She should shield Tharios just in case. But what if she gets it wrong? She’s never managed a proper shield.

Mustering her magic, she imagines the shield she wants and what she wants it to do. A glimmering dome falls around them, but it sparks in the rain, holes opening as steam rises from the transparent enclosure.

She can’t even protect Tharios from the rain. Rain she caused. Her tears fall faster as she tries to close the gaps, but as soon as one hole fills, another one opens.

“Here! They’re here!”

Familiar. The voice is familiar.

Spots dance across her vision in her relief.

“Viala, darling, you’re safe,” Nestraya says from somewhere nearby. “Let your magic go.”

Viala attempts to let go of the shield, but it gets stuck, sucking away more of her magic as she tries to extinguish it.

“I can’t,” she sobs. “I can’t get rid of it.”

“Take a deep breath, all right? And listen to my voice.” Lorial speaks now, and Viala nods against Tharios as she breathes in deeply to still her racing heart.

“Now, I want you to imagine the shield falling like a waterfall. Feel it washing away in the rain. Tune out everything else. Can you do that for me?”

She tries to clear her mind, but it’s impossible when Tharios lies near death beneath her.

“I can’t!”

“You can, young one,” Lorial says in that calm voice of his. “Focus on my voice as the magic washes away. You’re safe. You did your part. Now you can rest and let us take it from here.”

“I should have stopped him sooner.” Her shoulders shake, and the black spots dancing in her vision grow stronger.

“Can you incapacitate her from here?” Lorial asks someone. Probably Nestraya.

“I need to be touching her.”

“Viala, my youngling, I’m going to help you, all right?” Lorial says. “Just relax. Breathe in and out slowly and feel my magic working together with yours.”

“Breathe, darling. In...and out,” Nestraya coaches her as Lorial’s magic slides against her shield.

Viala focuses on breathing. On relaxing. On not fighting Lorial’s air and fire magic as it widens the gaps in her shield.

“That’s right, darling,” Nestraya says. “You’re doing just fine. In...and out.”

“Be careful, my love,” Lorial says. “I’ll hold the gap, but her magic is fierce.”

“I’m coming, my youngling. Just hold on,” Nestraya says softly.

And then a cool hand touches Viala’s shoulder, and the world goes dark.