Episode 144 My Littlest Love
My Littlest Love
Cerian glances at Arisanna, and something about his expression changes, almost as if he’s drawing strength from her as he rises to face his parents.
“Say what you will,” he says evenly as he turns to face them.
“Berate me if you must. Remind me that you told me to stay in Feressa and that you have enough to deal with without worrying about me, too. Inform me that the woods aren’t safe and that there are elves out there who would harm me simply because I mean something to you.
Describe how it felt to find out I wasn’t where I was supposed to be.
And when you finish doing all of that, I will tell you how sorry I am for the terror I caused you.
Mete out whatever discipline you believe I deserve, and I will take it without argument, but know that even so, I would do it all over again to save Uncle Quilian’s life. ”
Arisanna stares at Cerian, and neither of his parents says anything at first.
Then his father speaks. “You really aren’t an elfling anymore.”
Nestraya is slower to respond, and for a few moments, she simply gazes into Cerian’s eyes, but he doesn’t look away.
“I need you to be patient with me, Cerian,” she finally says. “I missed so much with you. Part of me wants to pretend you’re still my littlest love to make up for all the lost time. But you deserve better than that. And I am sorry.”
Cerian seems unsure how to respond, but he doesn’t resist when Nestraya pulls him close again.
“I am so proud of you, Cerian. Furious that you put yourself in danger for reasons I’m struggling to grasp, but proud of you all the same. Did you know Uncle Quilian was here?”
She lets him go, and he glances back at Arisanna. “Elowyn had a feeling something wasn’t right, and I trust her instincts. Then we lost Nebula when we stopped, and Starfire found us. He insisted on bringing us here, no matter how much I tried to dissuade him.”
“Starfire? The unicorn?” Lorial asks.
“Yes. He’s mine. We’ve met before.”
It’s surprising the magic let him say even that much.
“You have a unicorn?” Nestraya asks. “Since when?”
“Since he chose me. I can’t tell you everything for reasons you both understand better than anyone.” He shifts his gaze between them, and they glance at each other.
“Well, it seems you ended up exactly where you were meant to be and saved a life in the process,” Lorial says softly.
“Be that as it may,” Nestraya begins, “let’s make a deal, all right, my littlest—Cerian?”
“You don’t have to stop calling me that,” Cerian whispers. “Maybe just don’t keep me in the dark next time.”
“Agreed. And next time I tell you to stay, don’t expect a free pass if you leave simply because it worked out for you this time. Every situation will be different. You could have just as easily gotten both of yourselves hurt. You are not invincible.”
“Would I be a Thariosi if I didn’t pretend to be invincible, Mother?”
Lorial bursts into laughter, and Arisanna struggles not to smile.
“He has a point, my love,” Lorial says, and Nestraya just shakes her head.
“We need to be able to trust each other, Cerian,” Nestraya says. “To that end, I will do my best not to withhold information from you in some misguided effort to protect you. And in exchange, I need you to—”
“Do as I’m told?” Cerian grins.
“Yes. You have nothing to prove. You are everything you need to be already, and I see you, and I am proud of you. Always. But please don’t terrify me like that again. I’m not sure my heart can take it.”
Cerian looks down at his hands. “What if my gut tells me to do something else? Or Elowyn does?”
“Then I suppose you count the cost,” Lorial says. “And you make the decision you can live with. But you do it for the right reasons. Never to prove a point.”
Stars above. Was Cerian trying to prove something today?
“Am I that transparent?” he whispers.
“You always have been, my elfling,” Lorial says as he squeezes Cerian’s shoulder. “To me.”
“It wasn’t just to prove a point. Not even mostly. But—”
“I know,” Lorial says. “Now, why don’t you introduce us to Starfire? He was very skittish when we passed him.”
“He only recently changed. He’s still getting used to who he is now.”
Lorial and Nestraya smile at each other.
“Sounds like he was definitely meant for you, my littlest love,” Nestraya says, and Arisanna smiles up at Cerian.
“Give us a moment?” he says, and his parents draw him close again before stepping outside to give Cerian and Arisanna some privacy.
“Well, that went better than I expected,” Cerian says as he rubs his eyes. He must be tired. Even he needs sleep.
“I hope you don’t think you need to prove anything to me,” Arisanna says softly as she rests her hands against his solid chest.
Cerian shakes his head. “Not to you. I...I believe I needed to prove something to myself.”
“And did you?”
“I think I did.”
“Good. I’m going to try to be a Westaria now,” she whispers, and he frowns. Before he can say anything, she slides her arms around his neck and presses her lips to his.
“We should rest for a few hours at least,” Mother says from the other side of the shelter as Cerian sits on the bed with Arisanna lying across his lap the way she does so often on their train.
That she fell asleep like that with so many people coming and going is shocking, but he won’t complain.
She barely slept last night. Perhaps two or three hours at most.
Not that he slept at all. And he has no intention of sleeping if the others don’t.
A shadow darkens the doorway, and Cerian looks up at Corivos standing there.
Corivos’s eyes sweep the room until they land on Cerian. He releases a heavy breath that fills Cerian with guilt for worrying the entire warrior band stationed at Darlei.
“Thank the fates,” Corivos breathes. He turns to Mother. “I got here as quickly as I could, and I’m relieved to find you all well and not in need of reinforcements.”
Father claps him on the back, and Mother sighs. “We are not all well.” She steps aside so Corivos can see Uncle Quilian sleeping behind her. She must have done something to make him sleep.
“Quilian? Please tell me he lives.”
“Thanks to Cerian,” Father says.
“Was it rebels?” Corivos looks to Mother, but she gestures to Cerian.
Whistling wind. Is this how it’s going to be now?
They all watch him expectantly, and he gulps.
“He was thrown from his horse,” Cerian mumbles.
Not that he needs to be awkward around Corivos. He’s known Father’s First since before he can remember. He’s spent hours sparring with Corivos in the arena.
“You can do better than that, Cerian,” Mother says. “Give Corivos a full report.”
He takes a deep breath and exhales. Clearly, it is going to be like that. Even Father stands with his arms crossed, waiting for Cerian to speak.
Somehow, he puts the words together to explain everything that happened after he and Arisanna left Feressa, and Corivos nods and strides back to the door when Cerian finishes.
“Rafelis, your healing services are needed.”
“I stabilized him myself,” Mother says.
“I’ve been told you’re not supposed to be using your life magic,” Corivos says. “Threaten to demote me if you wish, but your mother is even more terrifying than you are.”
“It’s pretty close,” Father says, and Mother lifts her brows at him as Cerian holds back a smile.
How in the world Arisanna is still asleep is beyond him. She must have been exhausted.
A sudden longing to lie beside her fills him, but he resists.
He won’t sleep. Not yet.
Rafelis soon appears, and as he and Mother speak in hushed tones over Uncle Quilian, Cerian blinks a few times to keep his eyes open.
“Sleep, Cer,” Father says quietly as he wanders closer, but Cerian shakes his head.
“I’m fine. No one else is sleeping.”
“No one?”
Cerian glances down at Arisanna where her hair escapes the braid he plaited for her before they left Feressa.
“Sleep now while she sleeps. The heartlanding keeps you strong, Cer. Don’t fight it.”
“I’m not an—”
“Elfling? I really just want you to sleep now so I can steal your bed in a few hours.”
Cerian stares up at Father. “I can’t decide if that was said in jest or not.”
Father simply returns his gaze until Cerian glances away.
“Fine. For a few hours.”
“And not a minute more. I need you to help stand watch while your mother and I rest.”
“Now I know you’re mocking me.”
“I saw you standing there, ready to fight off an army to protect the people you love, Cerian. I promise I’m not mocking you. Much.”
Cerian rolls his eyes. “And there it is.”
“I’m joking. You were brave today. I’m proud of you.”
Cerian looks up at him again.
“Truly,” Father says. “And I definitely wasn’t joking about the bed.”
Cerian tries not to smile, but Father sees through him, as always.
“There’s your smile. I knew it was lurking in there. Sleep, my elfling. Your mother has decided you’re capable of more than she’s given you credit for, and that’s a very terrifying and exhausting place to be. Trust me.” He whispers that last part before returning to Uncle Quilian, and Cerian sighs.
As carefully as possible, he adjusts Arisanna so he can lie down beside her.
“Cerian?” she whispers.
“Just sleep, Sanna. I’ve got you.”
He wraps his arm around her, and she snuggles against him as he floods her with heat.
It feels like only minutes pass before he opens his eyes on their train.
At least, it sounds like their train with the monotonous clacking.
But he’s not sitting on the bench the way he usually is, with her curled up against him.
They’re on a bed. On a train. Why is there a bed on a train? This must be a human thing.
Nunia is such a strange place.