“Let go, love,” he breathes against her ear when every sensation of his flesh against hers leaves her gasping for air. It’s like drowning in him in the most overwhelming yet perfect way imaginable. Then his hand tightens around hers, and he groans as he buries his face in her hair while his chest heaves.
For a few moments, they just exist like that, tangled up together, their hearts pounding in sync, his breath heavy on her ear.
Her water gradually recedes as their racing hearts slow. Rather than the pebbled beach, the bed from their cottage is there to catch them. Did he ask for that?
As he holds her close, the emotion filling her is almost too much to process, and she clings to him.
“I love you, Elowyn,” he whispers against her ear. “In case there was any doubt. And I will never let you go.”
His voice washes over her, and she gazes into his eyes as she grasps at her own words in response. “My...my heart belongs to you, my love. It always has, and it always will.”
He finds her lips in a gentle kiss, and the solid strength of his arms and his body against hers chases away the overwhelm, leaving a connection between them so full and so deep she can barely put thoughts to it.
“Forever,” he whispers in Elvish when he rests his forehead against hers, and she repeats the word in Nunian.
Unrushed, they lie tangled up together, whispering about everything and nothing while her lingering heat warms them both. Eventually, her exhaustion bears down on her, and she doesn’t hide her yawn.
“I’m tired now,” she whispers, as she promised she would.
“Rest, love. I’ll be at your side when you wake. Wherever you wake.”
“You are worth every moment of my life I’ve spent waiting,” she murmurs as her eyelids grow heavy.
“Shh, love. Sleep now.” He presses a kiss to her temple and pulls a dry blanket over her as she gives in to her exhaustion.
Confession
Episode 103
“They’llsleepforawhile,” Tharios whispers to Cerian after Rominy rejoins Elowyn in the heartlanding. “You don’t have to stay.”
Before Cerian can respond, the door to Elowyn’s hotel room slowly opens as the rest of his family returns from their walk.
Mother stops short at the sight of the singed curtains before glancing at the bed and then at Cerian.
“It wasn’t me,” he says.
Though he did singe that rug. The hotel owner will never allow them to return if they keep lighting his hotel on fire.
“It was me,” Viala says, her frustration still evident. “I was practicing creating lights, and one of them caught fire. If Cerian hadn’t been here...”
She doesn’t finish her thought as she rubs her closed eyes with her hands.
But they all know what she’s thinking. If he hadn’t been here to contain the fire, Tharios would have been compelled by the magic of the oathbinding to do so himself.
“No one was hurt?” Father asks, and Tharios shakes his head.
“We’re all fine. It’s just some singed curtains.” Tharios pulls Viala close again, and she clings to him.
“We’ll pay to replace them,” Father says. “It will be all right. And when we return to Windhaven, we’ll practice with your magic more. In the meantime, how is Elowyn?”
“Exhausted, as far as I can tell,” Tharios says without letting Viala go. “She’s been fighting to reach Rominy all day. She needed to rest.”
Mother lowers herself to the side of the bed and takes Elowyn’s hand. “They both needed to rest. As do you, Tharios. A nap in a chair is not enough.”
“I’m f—”
“Do not tell me you are fine. You will rest, or I will douse you. And then you will rest.”
