Nealan and Aracane were quickly being soaked through to the bone, the relentless torrent having no mercy on their mortal bodies. With no horses they only had their own two feet for transportation, but to their dismay it wasn't getting them anywhere anytime soon, especially with the weather surrounding them. Both endured, refusing to complain to the other, letting their loathing and hatred burn and boil in their veins. They continued in silence, not even daring a glare, but instead letting the rain growl for them.
“This is entirely your fault,” Aracane said suddenly.
Nealan looked at her for the first time in hours.
“My fault?” He was trying to keep down his habitual rage. He breathed out roughly and did his best to stay calm.
“Yes, your fault. You didn't even think did you?” She held her arms more tightly crossed over her chest, trying to keep the shivers at bay.
“Well, I apologize for saving your pathetic excuse of a life,” he said sarcastically, automatically averting his gaze. The words sent a stoney feeling running through her chest but she kept it well hidden.
“If you had any mind or common sense at all, you would have at least brought horses.”
“We would have been seen with horses.”
“What's worse? Pursuit, or this blasted rain?” Her voice was shouting and pushed Nealan towards the breaking point. He turned to her with a speed he didn't know he possessed and grabbed her by the shoulders, hard.
“I should have left you there to rot and die you ungrateful stubborn woman,” he yelled above the roar of thunder. His heart hammered with fiery speed at his biting words, but he immediately regretted them and it showed on his face, though she wasn't about to forgive him. His grip hurt and she bit the inside of her lip, trying her best not to cry out. She swiped his hands away in a fit of wounded pride and feelings instead.
“Why didn't you then?” Her voice cracked as her resolve slipped away.
“Why didn't you leave me in that forsaken place to be tortured and beaten? It would have pleased you greatly to know the agony I would have suffered and endured.” She didn't bother waiting for a reply. She bolted into the distance, not daring to let that monster see her welling tears, her weakness.
“Aracane!” He called to her, but the thunder beat his voice in volume. Stubbornly, he tried again.
“Aracane, wait!” This time he went in pursuit of her. Though she wasn't faster than him, he was at a great disadvantage. He had been wearing his armor and she, conveniently, had a cotton shirt and breeches, making herself significantly lighter. She had hoped to lose him. She didn't want to see his face anymore, watch his eyes looking at her and seeing nothing but a worthless and incapable woman who couldn't hold her own, much less protect the royal family.
She ran as hard and as fast as she could until her chest burned unbearably. She slowed her gait some distance away from where she started and couldn't help but notice just how cold it was. She crossed her arms over her chest again in a feeble attempt to retain her heat, but her body wasn't the only thing drenched, so was her face that poured tears from her eyes, previously unbeknownst to her.
“Why do you continue to mock me?” She cried to the heavens. “Did you lead me out here just to have me die? Did I deserve what you're doing to me?”
She fell to her knees.
“Show me my wrongdoing!” She didn't want her life to be saved, she wanted to know what it was that she could have done that was so bad as to give her the poor life she had lead.
“Take my life! Strike me down so that I may finally be free!” If only she had her weapon, she would have done it herself, but she was at the mercy of the lightning that became more and more frequent with each passing hour.
“Do to me what you will,” she whispered, defeated. Her arms shook, hands grasping the dirt that surrounded her viciously in her fists, head bowed, tears falling to the ground.
“Aracane.” She didn't bother to look. She fully expected Nealan to be there, staring back at her, a devilish smile creeping on his lips relishing her vulnerable state.
“If you're foe, do with me as you wish, but if you're a friend, please, leave me be.”
“Aracane, Aracane.” The cloaked figure said softly, soothingly.
He came towards the girl.
“Please,” she whispered.
“Aracane, look at me,” she looked inside the hood, recognition absent in her features. The man slowly took the hood down, revealing his face. Aracane's eyes widened into a look of shock.
“Ranger?”
His smile was warm and pleasant, as if he was looking into the eyes of his own child.
“Why do you keep doing this to yourself?” He asked, his eyes holding a mark of pain. Aracane couldn't speak in his presence, as if the very sight of him made her temporarily mute.
Suddenly she reached out and embraced him, holding onto him like her only lifeline. His cloak swished around them, its heat inviting. She wept into his chest.
“Shh. You're alright now, I'm here,” he spoke into her hair.
“I deserve to die,” she moaned.
“Let me protect you, let me be your comfort.”
Aracane shook her head vigorously, a lump in her throat made her incapable of anything above a whisper.
“I am not worthy.”
“Why don't you let me decide that?” The sound of his voice calmed her and slightly reassured her.
They waited in the silence. The only sounds that Aracane could hear was the patter of rain droplets hitting the cover that Ranger so efficiently protected her with.
“Come, I don't want you falling ill because of this rain.” Ranger said, as if she wasn't in such a desperate position, but a lost traveler just caught in the unfortunate storm.
She didn't question him. He rose, releasing his covering and putting it on Aracane's shoulders.
“Follow me.” All she did was nod and complied with his demand.
They weaved in and out of the trees that seemed to thicken the farther they reached into the forest. It didn't take long before Ranger lead her to a hut that was hollowed out of the side of what looked like a hill. Ranger approached the door and held it open, beckoning her to come inside. Once both were inside, Ranger closed the door on the storm.
Light had filled the place because of the fire that blazed in a modest hearth. It took her a few minutes to get adjusted to the sudden change, but soon became comfortable.
“Why do you keep saving me?” Her question wasn't a surprise to the mysterious man.
“Why shouldn't I save you?” He countered.
“What have I done to deserve it?”
“Nothing,” was his simple answer.
This baffled Aracane, and Ranger could see the confusion written on her face.
“You are worth caring about, Aracane. Not because of what you do or what you've done but because you were created.”
Though the words didn't make sense to her she was still strangely at peace with what he said.
“In time you will understand,” he brought her into another embrace. “But for now you need to rest.”
He stroked her hair, his touch gentle and kind. It didn't take long before the rhythm of the rain beating outside, his soothing words, and the touch that accompanied them put her to sleep in his arms.
~`~`~`~`~
“Aracane!” The day had slowly turned into night but Nealan refused to end his search. He had lost Aracane hours ago and his tracking skills were useless in the madness he was forced to trudge through.
“Aracane!” Though hoping was practically futile Nealan swore under his breath that he wouldn't stop until he found her. The wind had picked up bringing Nealans limbs to the point of immobility. The lightning raged, drowning out his voice with the thunder that closely followed, but still, he pressed on.
“Where are you blasted woman?” He growled.
Concern seeped under his skin and into his heart which he covered by his rough expression. He didn't have much time to dwell on it before lightning hit a nearby tree, sending it crashing down and forcing Nealan farther into the forest. The wind pushed at his back, forcing him forward and farther into the wood. All the way he yelled Aracane's name. Soon another flash of lightning felled a tree near the human man, throwing him to the side, slamming him into a door. Nealan could feel the look of surprise paint itself across his face, quickly replaced by determination. Nealan swiftly and quietly entered the little alcove that was carved out of a tiny hill, so hidden away from the rest of the world. Upon entering, he held his breath. There, lying on the floor, cloak wrapped around her shoulders was the one he had been searching for. “Aracane?” He knelt beside her and brought her into a sitting position, practically ignoring the room itself altogether. She felt frozen to the touch and Nealan began to panic.
“Aracane, wake up,” she only moaned.
“Woman, if you die on me, so help me heaven I'll kill you again in the next life.”
She didn't respond to his threat. Nealan knew far too well about the consequences of cold this severe, if she didn't find some sort of warmth soon, she would most likely die. He himself wasn't far from the state that Aracane was in, and he could feel it creeping into his body.
“Hold on,” he tried reassuring her, though she was in no position to be able to care either way.
He stared at her water ridden clothing and how it clung to her body, draining her of her life source.
For the first time since walking into the room he noticed the hearth that was crackling contentedly in the corner. Though it provided warmth, Aracane was too far gone for just sitting next to a fire.
He knew what had to be done. Though his cheeks burned red, there was no time to think about the scandalous act he was about to perform. His and Aracane's life hung in the balance; his strength was leaving him, which tore down his resolve and reluctance even further. Expertly, he unhooked the many pieces of armor attached to him, throwing them aside as if they were nothing but a pile of useless junk rather than his protection in battle. His cotton shirt was what remained. Nealan's covering was just as wet, if not, more so than Aracane's and it clung to his toned skin, making the room seem even colder.
He closed his eyes and sighed, trying to calm his beating heart.
“You better appreciate what I am about to do for you.” His attempts at calming himself were thwarted as his heart continued to race and beat like a warriors drum. He reached for the edges of his shirt. In one swift motion it was off of his chest and over his head, his torso finally free of the cold confinement. His hands then shook and a chill went through his body as he worked on Aracane. He knelt and carried her to the fire, laying her practically at its threshold where he turned her onto her side so that the front of her was turned away from him and towards the blaze. He couldn't have her looking at him. With unsteady fingers he found the hem of her top, stopping only for a moment before hurriedly slipping it over her head, giving out a short sigh of relief to see her modesty bandages tightly wrapped around her torso. Once the deed was done Nealan lay next to her, wrapping his arms around her stomach, pulling her back to his chest, covering both of their bodies with the cloak that he found on her earlier. Their body heat was suppose to intermingle and warm the other more quickly than any blanket or blaze. The wind howled, moaning and groaning as time passed in silence.
He lay there and began to notice how perfectly Aracane was nestled against him, as if laying here like this was specifically what her body was created to do. Catching what he was just thinking about he mentally slapped himself almost immediately for making such notations in his mind.
“If you weren't so stubborn, we wouldn't be in this situation right now.” He closed his eyes, hoping that by talking he could forget his current predicament. “I came to save you and all you seem to be able to do is argue with me.” He tried to roil his dark emotions that often created his downfall in every past situation, but it failed him. His anger and rage couldn't rise, instead there was a dull ache in his heart and feelings that he had been trying his hardest to diminish.
“Why do you do this to me?” His voice was soft and kind, almost involuntarily. Without thinking, he buried his face into her hair, his breath caressing the back of her neck.
“You confuse me with these feelings.”
Minutes passed by as they lay there, he taking in the scent of her, his mind reeling and his control crumbling down around his ears, but Nealan froze when he felt her body move beneath him. Realizing what he had been doing, his muscles went ridged.
What kind of sick man am I?
He began to hate himself and the thoughts that went through his mind not moments ago. For all she meant to him, it made him want to vomit at the way he had been treating her. While lost in his thoughts, his mind was brought back to the present when he felt a hand rest itself atop his. Faster than his mind was able to process, Aracane rolled onto her side, facing him. Nealan didn't know what to do; Aracane looked him up and down, mind muddled.
“Nealan?”
“Yes.” He said with a shaky tone. He didn't have anything else that he could say.
It only took a couple of moments before Aracane registered what was going on around her, her head clearing as understanding grew more apparent in her expression. After taking it all in her face turned a bright red.
“What are you doing?” She screamed. She writhed and squirmed, desperate to be released from his grip. But Nealan held steadfast.
“Let go of me!” She demanded. Though her body was weak in its current state it didn't deter her from her efforts.
“Keep still woman!” Nealan grunted as he tried to keep her under control. “You are still weak; give your body time to rest.”
She continued with flailing her limbs but Nealan managed to squeeze her tightly enough that she could barely move, or breath for that matter.
“Why are you doing this?” She tried speaking, tears forming in her eyes.
“I found you unconscious. I searched for you for hours, now be still, if you don't, we both may die,” His words were firm, almost harsh.
“I would rather die than lay like this in your arms!” She screamed, a lone tear making a wet trail down her cheek. He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him and his tight embrace slowly lessened around her.
“Let go of me!” She began to beat on his chest.
“You want me to let go? Fine!” He released her, not only that but he also left her for the door to the alcove. Upon reaching it he swung it wide, letting the wind and rain pour in. It was more vicious than any storm either of them had ever seen.
“Nealan?”
“This is what you want, isn't it?” His eyes flashed at her. “I'm giving you my life, if I pain you so much then I'll end it here.”
“Are you mad?” Her voice held the note of shock.
“In more ways than one,” though he made his comment sarcastic, he was half serious.
“Nealan, think about what you're doing,” a twinge of worry laced her words.
“I have been thinking, I've been thinking for too long and I can't deal with it any longer,”
“Do you even know what you're saying?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Close that door.”
“Aracane, you torture me.”
A silence commenced between them. Aracane's face had contorted into confusion, it was too much to be taking in at once that at first, his words didn't make any sense.
“Torture you?” Her whisper was almost inaudible.
Pride forgotten in the height of his confession, Nealan made a spur of the moment decision.
“It's complete and utter torture to see you, Aracane. You make me feel things that I've never experienced before.” It became increasingly hard to describe into words, they felt heavy and unable to become spoken.
“I don't understand,” Aracane said. She lied, she knew exactly what he was saying, but she didn't trust him with her own confession.
“Maybe you'll understand this.” Nealan crossed the room to Aracane, and knelt, keeping himself level with her. In one quick motion he cupped the back of her head and pulled her towards him until their faces were dangerously close. Nealan waited for an opposition from her. He could see in her eyes that she didn't know what to think. But receiving no objection Nealan continued on his quest, letting his lips hover above hers, his breath warming her mouth as he held his position for only a few moments, his own heart ringing in his ears, before closing the distance between them completely. He started softly and gently, letting his affection control his actions, though he was almost hesitant, as if afraid that anything could break this single moment. She didn't move beneath his lips, surprised by his forwardness she didn't know what to do, or even if she was to do anything. He gained no response from his action. It didn't take Nealan long to pull away, not wanting to force her any further. A hurt expression was painfully visible in his eyes. A fire would have normally built up in his chest, every muscle in his jaw clenching, but not this time, this time he was dealing with someone he cared about, and he would no longer be bonded with his unreasonable rage. He wasn't going to hurt her any more than he already had.
“Now you know,” He said, dejectedly. He arose, leaving Aracane stunned beyond words as he made for the door, hesitating in the archway. Here he lingered, hoping that she would stop him, but his mood grew even darker when she hadn't. He couldn't look into her face again and not see his feelings reciprocated in her dark eyes. He stepped out into the rain, giving himself completely over to the monstrous weather.
Recovering from her dazed state she ran out into the storm, despite the rain, despite the wind, and despite her weak condition, she wrapped her arms as firmly as what strength she had would allow, around his waist.
“You utter fool,” She held him closer. “Did you really think that I could go on living without you?”
He couldn't speak. At a loss for words he took hold of the hands that so delicately grasped him. He intertwined their fingers, feeling her soft skin underneath his palms. Content with her nearness he couldn't have asked for anything else. Aracane, on the other hand, needed to inquire something of him.
“Nealan?”
“Hmm?”
“Kiss me again.” She wanted a chance to redeem herself and she hoped that he would grant her this request.
He turned around in her hold on him and looked into her face, searching for what may lay there. Her eyes were warm and held another element that Nealan could barely recognize but knew it to be the same emotions she evoked in him. He bent his head, slowly brushing his lips against hers. They closed their eyes, giving themselves over to the full feeling of the moment. He pulled her closer to him, her arms instinctively wrapping themselves around his neck. She pulled him closer, and they connected more fully and lost themselves in each others touch. Only a minute passed before Nealan pulled away, completely intoxicated by the events that just transpired between him and Aracane. She too couldn't believe what had just happened, but she wouldn't have traded it for anything. Both were unable to even describe their sudden happiness. Nealan rested his forehead against hers, his lips spreading in a wide smile while she looked into his brilliant eyes and the adoration that lay there.
“Stay with me.” He breathed, unable to use his full voice
“Forever.” Was her only response.
Text: M. Jade Glock
Images: Vyrhelle-Vyrl
Editing: M. Jade Glock
Publication Date: 07-12-2012
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