It is always night in her Majesty's forest.
She did not say the words aloud, but the man seemed to hear her thoughts just the same. It was then that he smiled. The corners of his mouth stretched back to his ears, the jagged points of his long, sharp, entirely familiar dagger-like teeth glinting back at her. She knew this mouth. She had kissed his mouth. Shelovedthis mouth.
"I suspect you will be excellent sport, sweetling."
In her hand, Silva realized she still gripped the restroom door.Run, run! You have to run!She flung herself backward, using the door as her anchor, one step, two-step, pulling it shut as tightly as she could.
On the other side of the bathroom door, the wedding was over.
She gaped, using the wall to support herself. The overhead lights were on. She could see through the doorway of the banquet hall, the caterers were already at work stripping down the tables, breaking down everything. Silva staggered to a nearby garbage can, vomiting at last.
When she limped into the main room, she found all of the party guests were gone.What time is it?!The cleanup crew looked at her askance, clearly wondering from where she'd come staggering, walking like she was drunk, wiping her mouth on someone else's abandoned linen napkin before dropping it back into the heap of collected table coverings. The whole world seemed to spin. Her head was heavy and foggy, and she didn't know how long she would be able to stay upright.
When she burst through the doors that led to the parking lot, Tate was there.
"Fucking hells, Silva." His collar was open, his vest unbuttoned. His hair was a tumult, and she knew he'd rather walk through fire than be inappropriately coiffed for an occasion like this.
What has he been doing? Where were you?
She stumbled down the concrete staircase, clinging to the banister for all she was worth, pausing to retch again in the bushes when she made it to the sidewalk. She had no idea where she was or how she'd got there, and Tate was looking at her as if she just ripped his heart out with her bare hands.
"Dove —"
Silva fell into his arms, a sob brewing in her chest. She felt the slice of that pendulum above their heads, practically touching now, and she couldn’t make out why.Fwoosh. Fwoosh.
"Let's get you home, Silva. Get you home and get you safe."
Like their journey from his apartment to her own, he needed her to drive.
"Silva, I want to bring you home, I do, but I don't know the way. I don't know where I'm going."
She could barely keep her head up. When they passed Talontail's original building, Tate hissed, gripping the dashboard. He'd done the same thing on the way to the wedding, and she wanted to point out that he'd somehow managed to find his way then, jerking the wheel and nearly driving them off the road for a moment, but getting them there just the same.
"I – Tate, I don't think I can drive."
Her foot was already off the gas and he was hopping out of the car, despite the fact they were still rolling to a stop. She made no move to stop him when he pulled open her door and her up into his arms. "You don't have to, Silva. I know where we are now. Just close your eyes, now. You’re almost home."
* * *
She was swimming in an ocean of softness. Her head was incredibly heavy, but she was enveloped in a cushy cloud, the coolness of the pillow beneath her cheek making her sigh. The only thing that would make this better, she thought dreamily, was if she had something to drink.
Silva opened her eyes. She was in bed, her own bed, burrito'ed in her comforter, wearing nothing but her panties and a thin tank top. Her hair was tied back, and beside her on the table with a glass of water.
"Let me help you." Tate was right there, solicitous as he always was, anticipating her needs. He lifted the glass to her lips, lettingher drink as much of the cool water she wanted. "Not too fast, dove."
When she had her fill, Silva tugged his arm, urging him to climb into bed with her. "What time is it?
"Late." He took his time replacing her glass beside her on the bedside table, on a coaster she didn't even know she owned. Once he’d climbed into the too-small bed beside her, he opened his mouth to continue, but she stopped him before he could.
"That was a nice wedding, wasn't it? I mean, what we saw of it. I wonder what their ceremony was like? Regardless, the reception was very nice." She grinned from across the pillow. "Thank you for coming with me. I hope you had fun. None of these girls were in my sorority, but it was nice catching up."
She had happened upon several clusters of partygoers whispering about her being there with an orc, smiling brightly upon her approach, conversations ending abruptly. The non-Elvish guests didn’t seem to care.Fine.She was already the subject of gossip at her own club, may as well feed the beast at another few.
"It was very nice," Tate agreed, pursing his lips for a moment giving her a searching look. "How do you feel —"
"Tired," she exhaled against the pillow. "Exhausted. I feel like I could sleep for a hundred years, my head is so heavy. But I'm glad we went." Her voice drifted off as she reached up, talking a wayward strand of his glossy black hair behind his slim, pointed ear. "It was very fun being your fiancée, just on our way back from holiday for the night."There you go. Putting your whole heart out there. You've had months to get over this and you're still just as needy today as you were last summer.
"By far, the grandest part of the evening."
