Maybe Elowyn will teach him to read Elvish someday.
Meet Me with Your Magic
Episode 116
“I’llbebackina few minutes,” Tharios says to Cerian and Arisanna before letting himself into the hotel room he shares with Viala, and she looks up from the chair near the window.
“Tharios.”
“You sound surprised. Were you expecting someone else?”
A smile twitches at her lips, and she shakes her head. “Of course not. I just didn’t expect you so soon. How is Elowyn today?”
“Ornery. Which I always take as a good sign in my patients. I’m more concerned about you right now. Do you wish to tell me what’s causing this?” He illuminates the cord binding them together. There’s significantly less slack than there usually is when they both feel unthreatened.
“I believe it was you, elf prince. Binding yourself to me before you’d even properly introduced yourself. I’m still not over it.”
The temptation to respond in kind is strong, but he resists as he kneels in front of her and takes her hands. “The truth, Viala. What troubles you this morning?”
She leans her forehead against his, but she still doesn’t speak.
“Is it your magic?” he asks softly, switching to Lothlesian to make it easier for her.
“I forgot to have you extinguish it today before you left.”
He lifts her chin to look into her eyes. Those brilliant blue eyes that shine like pools of water as she gazes at him now. Often, they blaze like her blue magic when her passion flows from her, and when she gets truly angry, they flash.
They flashed a lot right after he met her.
But now they’re like glistening water on a still lake, vulnerable and full of emotion. Inviting him to dive into their murky depths and get lost there.
Inviting him to experience the deepest parts of herself.
“Did something happen?” He didn’t feel the ripping of his heart from his body the way he usually does when she’s in danger.
“No. But I’m afraid it will.”
“Is that why you stayed here this morning instead of joining me?”
“It’s safer this way.”
He sighs before lifting his hand. “Meet me with your magic?”
She stares at him for a moment and then shakes her head. Fear trembles in her eyes.
They haven’t done this much, this Lothlesi practice of sharing magic. He should offer more. He needs to offer more. To help her see and feel the beauty of the power coursing through her.
“Please,” he whispers. “I want to experience your magic.”
The cord between them slinks in on itself until Tharios couldn’t leave her side if he tried. What terror she must feel today. This moment.
“I’ll guard your flame,” he promises.
They gaze into each other’s eyes for several breaths, and then she tentatively lifts her hand to his. When theirpalms touch, a current flows between them, prickling his flesh and tickling his senses. She’s so powerful. To most elves, the strength of her magic would be overwhelming, too much to take in.
But not for Tharios Westaria, son of Lorial and Nestraya.
He meets her magic with his own powerful life magic, entangling with it and pouring himself into her as her magic mixes with his until it’s impossible to tell where his magic ends and hers begins.
