Sam Black

Your senses flood back as the memories subside. This would be the only chance you get. Here you are, two knees in the dirt, and here he is, at the helm of an army. The opportunity was too great. You kick out at the Orcs that have you restrained managing to free an arm and pull a dagger free. With one swift motion you slice through the throat of one, black blood oozing from the wound. You shove the body towards the second Orc, sending them both to the ground. The ruckus draws attention, you have but a few seconds to complete your mission. Turning you spy your target once again his full attention on you. His demeanour has changed, a smirk envelopes his features, beckoning you to carry on as your legs take you towards him. 

Pain shoots through your thigh causing you to stumble and fall to the floor. The impact jolts through your bones followed by more pain which splinters through your chest. Just in time you flip onto your back and instinctively thrust the dagger, you still clutch onto, upwards. It makes contact with the soft underbelly of an Orc who squeals as you withdraw the blade and thrust it up a second then third time. Blood gushes down, soaking you, as you lay in the dirt and watch as the body falls next to you. Patiently you wait a few seconds for the next assault, staring up at the dark clouds that are littered with traces of red, but it doesn’t come. 

Warmth tingles against your chest, oddly comforting until you taste that copper tang in your mouth. A cough rips through your throat as you try to suck air in, splatters of something wet hitting your lips. Despite the pain you force yourself to roll onto your front and catch a glimpse of the arrow that penetrates the flesh of your thigh. The head snaps off as you come into contact with the hard compact earth beneath you. For a second you lie there, face against the dirt, clouds of dust flying as your laboured breath forces its way out. A warm trickle seeps from the corner of your lips, lips which had once been full of colour and plump. They’d been one of his favourite features about you, or so you’d guessed after he struggled to stop kissing them for more than a few minutes at a time when alone with you. You smile as you remember the gentle touch of his mouth against yours, how it always started off innocent until you both felt the urgency in your desires. It was moments like that which would make your heart pound as if trying to escape, but now it pounds as you cling desperately onto the life you’d so passionately fought for. 

A groan escapes as you push up onto your knees and sit on your haunches, blood pooling from the thigh. All the while your eyes dart around as the enemy gathers, your fingers flexing around the handle of the dagger, reassured by the solidity of it in your fist. They stand, circling you, grim faced and shouting war cries in their dark speech. Nothing about the situation struck you as funny but despite this, a hysterical giggle claws its way out in a horrid gurgle as blood bubbles from your mouth. Your free hand shoots to your chest where you’d previously felt pain and your chin sinks forcing your head down. How easy it would be to give up now, to let your eyes shut and allow yourself to slip away. Giving up has never been in your nature. 

You spit a mouthful of blood to the floor, the colour a bright vibrant maroon against the pale brown of the dirt. Yours wasn’t the first to be spilled here nor would it be the last if you didn’t succeed. With renewed determination you force your gaze upwards and wipe your mouth on the back of your hand as your eyes make contact with his. Any warmth that they once contained is gone, replaced by intrigued. He holds his arms outstretched, signalling for his Orcs to stay back as he steps inside the ring. His gaze never falters, not once, as he strides over and towers above your kneeling form. 

“This is all I ever wanted,” he says, only loud enough for your ears “For you to kneel before me.”

You grimace at the sound of his voice, smooth and sweet, remembering how it has once sent shivers down your spine but now repulses you. Glaring up through your lashes you watch as he extends an arm down towards you, his eyes carrying the familiar emotion of days long gone. Is it possible he did care for you? Perhaps your love wasn’t a lie, but it certainly was poison. You watch his eyes grow cold again as a bloody smile pulls at your lips. Mustering the last of your strength you push to your feet ignoring his hand, hiding the pain to the best of your abilities. 

He cocks his head to the side and smiles in return. “A strong Queen you’ll make.” He turns his back on you. NOW. The voice inside screams. Won’t be another chance. Despite loving him, you had a tendency to be angered by him. He always knew which buttons to push and how to elicit a response. 

“I don’t kneel to anyone” you raise your chin higher “Especially not to you…” he turns in an instant, eyes full of anger equal to yours “...Sauron the Deceiver.” 

“You don’t know what you speak of.” Is that hurt you hear lacing his words? Eagerly you watch his hand travel to the hilt of his sword, desperately wanting him to initiate. Anything to make this easier for you. 

“I’ve not fallen to your lies previously.” You push at the threshold of his tolerance forcing him to shoot you a warning look as you take a step towards him. 

“All I ever wanted was to do good with you by my side.” He explains trying to get inside your mind. His fingers now grip the hilt so tight that the knuckles turn white. You both know time is running out. “Join me” he instructs, silently pleading with his eyes. 

“I will not succumb now.” You whisper, afraid your own words were a lie. Before having a chance to rethink you close the distance to him, not once thinking how odd it is he doesn’t move or draw his sword. His hands grasp yours as you slide the knife under the bottom rib and thrust up, not once does he try to stop you. He just holds your hands in his, savouring the last touch. It hurts but you force yourself to look into his eyes so you can say farewell to the monster who has tormented you for so long, but all you see is Halbrand. He stares back with sadness, reflecting back the image of his killer. 

“She is the monster who can kill her love.” He whispers to you, shock evident on his voice. You feel his grip on your hands tighten, as his knees buckle, using you for support. Instantly you regret what you’ve done. It doesn’t matter that you’re slowly dying; drowning in your own blood. Your heart hammers for another reason now, causing tears to swell in your eyes. Pulling your blade free of his body causes him to gasp, his head sinking down to your chest. The blade falls to the floor, his blood covering your hands. 

“Halbrand?” you whisper, almost choking on the name as the tears spill over. You crouch as he falls to his knees, a hand on his back to help him lay down. You hold his hands in yours, they feel much colder now. “No.” You cry, applying pressure to the wound you inflicted. This brings a smile to his pale lips. 

“At least I know…” he struggles to breathe “...how you truly feel.” 

A sob escapes you at his words. Why did this have to be the way? You bring your head down to his, tears falling onto his cheeks and plant a soft kiss upon his lips, leaving behind a trail of your own blood; a reminder of your own end. Comforted by the thought you’d join him after, you resign and lay your head upon his chest. You cling to one of his hands as his other finds its way to your head. Even in his final moments he cares more to comfort you than himself. Gently stroking your once shiny dark locks that are now blood spattered and crusted with mud. You listen to his wheezing breaths as his chest tries to inflate. 

“All I ever wanted,” he coughs. You don’t look but you know that blood is pouring out of his mouth by the sound of his voice struggling to break through. You rub your thumb over the back of his hand. “All I ever wanted…” he repeats, the end closing in on him “eternity with you, in a prosperous world…” he sucks air in through his gritted teeth, a sloshing sound coming from his chest beneath you. Desperately you fight your mind, trying to think of comforting words but instead the tears come on stronger so you remain silent as images of the two of you together are conjured. You torture yourself thinking maybe being his Queen wouldn’t have been as bad as you thought. Perhaps you could have reigned him in and curved his darkest impulses, together creating something beautiful. After all, good and evil cannot survive one without the other. You must have shared the same thought for he voiced what you were thinking. “Perhaps if the cards were dealt differently,” he gasps, fighting for breath “We might… if we created…” His chest starts to feel rock solid beneath you and the blood rushes from the wound by your head “I’d have liked a son.” 

His words stung. Moments before the idea of what he suggested would have repulsed you, a life with Sauron… never. But this is Halbrand, he’s real and still here underneath all the lies. Once upon a time you’d imagined your life together when he was a simple peasant and once more when he was the supposed King of the Southlands, in all of that you had not once considered a child. Now you can see all that has been stolen from you and it brings nothing but pain. You no longer conceal the tears that rip through you in body shaking quakes. You stay like this until you feel his chest steady and no breaths follow. Weakly you lift your head to look into the eyes of the man you love. The man you killed. 

You cry out while clinging to his body. You can’t see for all the tears that blur your vision but it doesn’t stop you screaming insults at the sky, hoping someone up there can hear your pain and feel the injustice that has been served to you on this day. All your words dry up as you return your gaze to the lifeless body in front of you, only eerie croaks can be heard as you struggle to breath as panic sets in. You hunch over the body, hands in your lap, feeling forsaken in this land. You wait for your own end, whether by your wounds or the Orcs but neither happen. You glance around to find it’s just the two of you.

“Please…” you beg, not fully knowing who you’re asking. You start rocking back and forth on your knees, holding your head in your bloody hands. His blood. Hysterical screams resonate from you as you hunch into a ball, driven mad by the situation. 

You barely hear it over your own noise but it makes you clench your eyes tightly shut. “It can’t be” you whisper while still rocking, bloody spittal falling from your mouth. “Go away!” You scream as you hear it again; a deep chuckle. “I’m going mad, I’m going mad,” you whisper over and over to yourself like a mantra. “You can’t be real…” you start crying again “...I killed you… please, leave me alone…” you sob. It’s almost heartbreaking to watch. You screw your eyes even tighter shut, if that's even at all possible, they start to ache with the force you use on them. 

“Open your eyes.” His voice is soft and enticing, but you’re sure it's a trick nonetheless. It can’t be real. “It’s okay, you can open them now.” he repeats, hoping this time you do as he says, but you’re always so obstinate and after all this time his patience wears thin. 

“Look at me!” he roars, causing you to flinch which sends you backwards onto your butt. As you do so your eyes fly open. You’re met with a dark dank stone cell. Iron bars close you in on three sides cutting you off from the rest of the room. The floor is freezing cold as you lay there adjusting to the new surroundings. 

“Are you going to do everything but look at me?” he chuckles again from behind you. “Surely I’ve not broken you, not after all this time?” His joy at the prospect was thick and heavy.

Slowly you turn your head and sit up. There’s a small candle on the opposite side of the bars that gives out little light, enough to show a figure propped against the far wall. Fear paralyses you at the realisation of what’s happening, he really is a master of deception. Footsteps echo and bounce off the stone as he approaches the bars of your cage. Tears start to fall upon your cheeks again as he crouches, bringing himself to your eye level. 

“How the mighty have fallen.” He teases as he eyes you with pity, not enjoying the sight before him. “Still, we’re here now.” He claps his hands together causing you to flinch.

“Please” you try to beg but it comes out a choked mumble as you pull your body into a huddled form. You bring your head to your knees trying to remember how you got here. The last thing you remember was killing him, but that can’t have happened not if he’s here. The jingle of metal brings your attention back to him as he pulls a skeleton key from a bunch hanging off his belt. He stands, eyes not straying from you once as he unlocks the gate to the cell. The metal clanks as the key turns, allowing him to pull the door open with a creak. Gingerly you stand, before backing up to the stone wall of the cell, expecting something bad. He knows it will take time for him to regain your trust but he’s just happy you’re no longer fighting him every step of the way. 

He places one foot inside your cell with hands raised and you try to put more distance between the two of you but trip as your foot is pulled back by a chain. Your head smacks down on the stone floor, blood oozes instantly from the graze on your forehead. Not caring about your injury you turn to him as he moves faster towards you. 

“Stay away” you yell, “No, stay away from me!” You kick out so he stops in his tracks and retreats until he’s back at the door.  

He lets out an exasperated sigh, “I thought we’d overcome this.” He turns to walk through the door but stops when you stand once more. 

“I know what you’re doing, it won’t work.” you spit through gritted teeth. With another sigh he closes the door and returns the key to his belt. His hand linger on the iron bars for a moment as he stares at you, mulling over the options. How long has it now been? He’d lost count and has begun to give up any hope of it ever working. He gives the bar a final grip before walking towards the exit, not giving you another look. 

“We’ll try again tomorrow,” he shouts as he wonders how many times he has to subject you to pain before you fold. How much more can he endure? His form disappears down a dark corridor but you can still hear his footfalls as they fade. 

You race towards the bars of your prison, falling short as the chains restrict your movement. Panic erupts inside at the thought of being left alone here, before it's swept aside by confusement. You watched him die. You killed him. But I didn’t. You’re somewhat relieved he’s alive. The guilt and pain you’d felt washing away, only to be replaced with anger as you realised he’d been in your head. It all comes rushing back. How many days have you been here? You’d lost count, but far too many. Day after day you live out his scenarios in your head and everyday you fail to submit to him. This brings a wicked smile to your dry cracked lips.

You stare at the ticking clock on the bedside table, counting down the minutes. You should have met him ten minutes ago. Despite the longing to see him, feel him, breathe him, you can’t bring yourself to get up. Instead you open your phone and stare at Sarah’s number, finger hovering over it. Even if she picks up, what do you say? There’s still no explanation, the only one you had she laughed at you for it. 

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The clock becomes too loud, as it reminds you that you’re now twenty minutes late. Thoughts of him sitting alone in the current downpour makes you feel increasingly guilty. 

He wouldn’t still be there. You tell yourself. He’d have gone by now. Anything to make yourself feel better. 

Tick. Tick. Tick. 

In frustration you swipe the clock off the side, it clattering to the floor with a metallic clunking. Something skitters across the floor, probably the battery. It’s only now, in the quiet of your room, you start to tune in to sounds in other parts of the house. The sounds of an argument starting in the kitchen drifting up to you. Quietly you leave the bed and creep along the floorboards to your door. The voices have grown louder and drown out any possibility of them hearing you coming down stairs. 

“Somethings wrong with my baby girl Frank, and you don’t seem to care” your mothers hysterical shriek makes you jump as you hover outside the kitchen, eavesdropping. 

“I just think that perhaps we’ve been too harsh on her recently. She’s a young adult now and she’ll experiment; that’s how they learn, from mistakes!” Frank sounds calmer, you put that down to his experience as a police officer. “She’ll speak to us when she’s ready-“

“Maybe we should send her to a psychologist-“ 

“She doesn’t need a shrink” He laughs, rolling his eyes at the idea he finds preposterous. 

“She’s depressed, Frank!” Your Mother is at boiling point, her tone squeaky and you know that soon the tears will come. 

“She’s a young woman, she’s probably got boy troubles, she’s not depressed.” He tries to rationalise and for once you’re glad someone’s on your side. 

“If there’s something you’d like to know, just ask.” your voice interjects quietly from the doorway, “I’d prefer that to the talking behind my back “ you accuse. They stand, looking shocked at your sudden appearance. Despite catching them talking about you, guilt swells inside for letting it get to this point. You should have talked to them and not caused further stress. “Listen,” it comes out authoritative and stops either of them jumping in. “I…” you stare at your feet as you prop your body against the door frame. “I don’t wanna tell you what you want to hear for the sake of pleasing you, saying this, I don’t need counselling-”

“Oh thank god!” your mother interrupts, her hand coming to her chest in relief. You give her the side eye, annoyed at her rudeness. 

“As I was saying, I don’t need counselling. I might seem a bit down but I have reasons, one’s which Frank’s not far off.” 

“So there is a boy?” your mother asks, a mixture of intrigue and confusement. Frank smiles to himself, knowing he was right. “Don’t you think we should have known there’s a boy in your life?”

“Mum!” you whine, “No, there’s no boy.” You lie, not able to deal with her current questions. Tackle one issue at a time. “It’s just friendship problems.” Neither of them say anything but Frank gives you a wink, knowing you’re not telling the whole truth. “Anyway, I’m heading out, trying to fix the problem.”  Your mother’s eyes travel your body, judging the state your appearance is currently in. She gets an eye roll from you before you walk to the front door. While slipping a pair of boots on you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the hallway mirror. 

Jesus, maybe she was right to judge. 

You still wear his sweater, having not taken it off, but had replaced the borrowed boxers with black leggings. Your hair, still unwashed, was scraggly and held enough grease to deep fry something in. You grab fistfuls of it and pile it high on top of your head, securing it in pace with the band from your wrist before heading to the car. Once sat inside the car, you get your phone out, finally having plucked up the nerve to call. The dial tone rings endlessly before the answer phone kicks in. In frustration you hang up and redial, the need to reach Sarah gnawing at you. 

“Please pick up. Please pick up” you say through gritted teeth, hoping that it would work some magic. Once again the answer phone kicks in. Her voice sounds clear and cheery. You wait for her to stop speaking and the familiar beep to ensue, indicating for you to leave a message. “Hi Sarah,” you pause, realising how unprepared you are for this “I um… I couldn’t reach you, well you know that, but um I just wanted to check in, see how you are, even apologise. I’d rather apologise to your face and not over some dumb message…” you sigh loudly “Please just call me back, this whole thing is just so stupid, I really-”

Beep.

The time runs out for your message, cutting your words short. 

“-miss you” you finish. Disappointed and annoyed you fling your phone into the seat next to you before banging your head against the steering wheel. In frustration your hands grip tightly onto the cool plastic as you release a suppressed groan. After regaining composure, you use your fingers to wipe away the wetness that stains your cheeks. Deciding you need to confront the issues in your life, you start the car and pull out of the driveway. Nervously your fingers tap against the steering wheel as thoughts race through your mind. Who to go to? Your brain, always the voice of reason, argues that Sarah should be the priority. 

Mates before dates.

Despite this, every fibre of your being yearns to go somewhere else. A deep breath fills your nose with the woody scent that wafts off the sweater and sends your heart hammering. You let out a shuddery breath as you glance at the clock. Nearly fifty minutes had passed since you should have met him, why on earth would he still be there? Some small flicker of hope rages through you as you take a left turn at some crossroads, a turn that takes you further from her. The heavy rain turns to a gentle shower, as you head down the track that is becoming increasingly familiar. Under the tree canopy the rain seemed almost nonexistent but as you emerged into the clearing you noticed the occasional droplet hit the windscreen. You leave the car parked on the edge of the mud track and make your way over to the cabin, hoping that you were right in assuming he’d be here. 

Gingerly you head up the porch stairs, trying not to make much sound in fear of an audience. There's voices drifting from the cracked open window, hushed in tone, not the usual energetic craziness you’ve come to associate with the gabble of boys.  

“She might come around with some space” Emily’s soothing voice sounds, attempting to calm the male that answers her. 

“She stood me up, I don’t think she needs time. She needs answers-”

“No.” Sam’s stern tone silences the other two. “I forbid it. She’s not one of us.”

“She’ll understand-”

“I said no Paul.”

“The other’s will be here soon, finish this before they arrive.” Emily advises. The oven door opens and then closes.

Feeling rude for eavesdropping, you try to backtrack and head to the car. Obviously now wasn’t the right time to interrupt. You make it down the stairs without so much as a creak and head back across the dirt clearing.

The low hanging tree branches to the left of the clearing start rustling as something comes running through the undergrowth. For a minute, panic floods your body. Half expecting the monster from your dreams to charge at you. You’re relieved when you hear the laughing joking voices of the boys. Emily had said they’d be returning soon. 

In a hurry, you fish the car keys from your pocket but drop them in the mud. Before you can pick them up, feet thud into the clearing. In a flurry of snapping branches and bare skin something slams into you, knocking you clean off your feet. You land in the mud, something heavy on top of you. 

Opening your eyes you see the smiling face of Jared, a flirtatious look twinkling in his eyes. He pushes up on his elbows as a flush creeps onto your cheeks. You’d never been this close to a man. 

“Sorry about this, didn’t see you there!” He winks before another naked form runs past you both. 

“Looks like I beat yo ass!” Embry calls. 

Jared pushes off from the floor and offers a hand to you. The flush on your face reddens as you look away from Jared’s fully naked body.

Jared laughs. “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen Paul-”

“What the hell.” Paul’s voice erupts across from the cabin’s porch, stopping Jared’s comment in its tracks. 

Your head whips around to where Paul is running down the stairs. He ignores the two naked men and heads straight to your side, looking you up and down once, then twice, noticing the mud on your clothing. His eyes then travel to the mud on Jared’s forearms and knees. His eyes turn animalistic, rage barely concealed. 

“What did you do?” He spits at his friend. The words are thick with accusation. 

“Calm down, it was an accident.” Jared’s eyes turn as lethally animalistic as he squares up to Paul. 

“You’ve been provoking me for days.”

“You’re just too easy to wind up, man. Try not being so uptight.” He shoves Paul away from him. 

“Paul?” Your voice calls to him soft and calming, perhaps the only thing that can pull him away from this. “Can we talk, please?”

He turns away from Jared, leaving the conflict before it’s too late. You take a shaky breath and try to calm your nerves but before you can say something Jared lets out a chuckle. 

“It was about time she saw a real man.” His comment makes Paul’s jaw clench. 

“Ignore him.” You shoot a glare at Jared, all embarrassment gone as you speak to Paul. “He doesn’t know what he’s on about.” 

Taking a step towards Paul, you close the distance and place a hand on his chin, directing his gaze towards you. His jaw relaxes before he recoils from your touch. Your hand drops to your side as disappointment rushes through your being. Up until now you’d been the one rejecting and only now realise how being rejected hurts. Paul has to fight the desire to comfort you as he walks away from you and into the trees that you’d previously followed him into. 

Sam, who’s been watching from the porch of the cabin, order’s Jared and embry inside. Once the two of them vanish inside the cabin, he gives you a nod of thanks. 

Without overthinking, you enter the forest and retrace the footsteps you took once before and pray he’s there waiting for you. The walk to the clearing doesn't take as long as before, recognising stages of the journey which makes it memorable. Your foot clumsily catches on a tree root bulging from the earth. Smiling down at it, you can’t help but find it funny that it’s the same one that tripped you last time. 

You enter the clearing and see Paul hunched over in the middle. All fours on the moss covered ground. His chest rises and falls as he breathes deeply as if meditating. You don’t say anything but let your actions speak. Silently you make your way over to him, stopping only to briefly consider what you should do. 

Gingerly you place a hand on his back and make contact with his hot skin. The palm of your hand is cool compared to his scorching flesh, he flinches at the temperature change. The muscle beneath your touch contracts and relaxes as his head raises off the floor. Sliding your hand towards his shoulder blades, he brings himself into a kneeling position, his back flush against your legs as he sits on his haunches. Your arms wrap instinctively around his neck, dangling across his chest, as his head comes back to rest on your abdomen. He’s hurting and every fibre of your being screams to comfort him. 

Without even thinking, you place a kiss on the crown of his head. Before withdrawing, his hands grab yours to keep you from leaving. You breathe in his scent. It's deep and woody and makes your heart flutter. 

I’m sorry. I’m here now. 

Without having spoken the words aloud, his body language changes as he reacts to your thoughts. The tension leaves his muscles as he relaxes further into you, his eyes shutting in content. 

Cupping his chin, you tilt his face back gently. For a second you stare at his beautiful angular face before leaning down to kiss his lips. For the briefest of moments, he’s surprised, but it vanishes quickly as you become one. 

A smile breaks across your features, halting the kiss. There’s a bob beneath your hand as he swallows. You draw back and watch as his eyes open, dark and filled with lust. The predatory look should scare you but doesn’t. Suddenly your mouth feels dry as nerves coarse through you. 

“Hi,” you whisper.

He blinks up at you. Once, twice, three times before making a move to stand. He towers above you, head resting in the crook of your neck. Occasionally his body shakes followed by deep breaths. Trying to comfort him, you rub your hand against his back.

“What’s going on?” you work up the nerve to ask.

He sighs against you before pulling away. His eyes show deep sadness, flecks of anger swim through the irises. You take a step towards him, but he just moves further away. 

“They shouldn’t have- you shouldn’t have”

“I’m not one of you.”  Sam’s words from the cabin tumble from you. 

Paul looks shocked for a fraction of a second before regaining control of his emotions. 

“You heard that.”

“I may not be one of your goofy group of friends, but I’m here aren’t I?” Your brows pinch together. “I’m sorry I stood you up earlier, but you have to understand how confused I am at the situation, at my feelings. I’ve never felt like this and it scares the crap out of me… But, I’m here now and that’s what matters.” 

“You don’t think I’m confused?” His words catch you off guard, not expecting him to argue. “One moment you can’t keep your hands off me and then you disappear for days. What am I supposed to think?”

“You said you would be anything I want you to be…” you shrug, lost for words.

“I don’t know how to be around you.” he avoids eye contact as his hands run through his thick hair, “You kiss me like you want me, like you care-”

“I do care.”

“You act one way and then completely change the next time I see you. It’s screwing with my brain!” He yells out of frustration.

“Paul…” Tears well in your eyes. You swallow to keep them at bay.

“Jared jokes about whatever this is and it drives me insane.”

“I didn’t want to see… that,” you clarify.

Your cheeks flush in embarrassment as you think about it, not that you really saw anything, having diverted your eyes. You notice Paul taking in your flushed appearance and shrink away from you again. 

“Are you jealous?” 

“I was worried he might have hurt you.” He shoots you a warning glare, to not delve further into this topic. 

“Jared is quite funny, if I’m being honest.” You twirl a piece of hair between your fingers. “After today… Well maybe he’s got more than just humour-” 

Paul walks towards the trees, no words of goodbye. 

“Don’t walk away. Please.” Your voice completely changes, the joking tone erased by desperation. Inside your chest, the beat of your heart thunders, scared that he’ll go for good. “I need you.”

He stops in his tracks, back tense.

“I need you.” It’s an echo of a whisper as you repeat it. 

He turns and looks you in the eye. 

“I can’t stay away from you, I tried and it made me want you more. I can’t sleep without thinking of you.” The truth starts spilling from you in waves. “I can’t breathe, It feels like death. I… I. Need. You.”

He closes the distance between you in a few strides. His proximity gives you goosebumps as he leans his forehead against yours. All you can think about is how close his lips are to yours and yet still not close enough. And then they’re on yours, warm and soft. He starts with slow gentle pecks, before they become lengthier. Your lungs burn so he moves down your neck. You moan what sounds like his name as your arms wrap around his neck, fingers digging into his shoulders. The hair at his nape is long enough to grab in your hand as he gently applies suction to your skin, bringing forth another moan, barely audible to the human ear. Tendrils of pleasure run down your spine as your nipples harden. You flush when you remember you didn’t put a bra on; the way your body is pressed to his, he’ll feel them through the sweater you borrowed. 

His mouth finds its way back to yours as you drink him in, savouring every touch and sound. He pulls away for a second, panting as he draws in air, before admiring his work on your neck. 

You stare up at him with big doe eyes, lips parted and swollen, waiting for more. Removing your hand from his neck, you bring them down to his chest where they linger for a few seconds before going to the hem of his tank top. He stops what he’s doing, eyes watching yours as they stare up at him. His breath catches as you graze a finger delicately over the skin of his abdomen. You pull on the material, as you lean up to kiss him, bunching it in your fists. Lightly, your teeth brush over his lower lip before breaking apart. 

With his chest heaving, Paul allows you to remove his top. He stays utterly still, letting you take the lead. He watches as your eyes follow your fingers, watching them trace patterns across his flesh. You place a warm kiss on his shoulder as your arms slide around his neck once more. 

“I need you.” The whisper tickles his ear.

You pull away a little so you can look at his face. Neither one of you speaks and yet never has your communication been better. It’s over both of your features, anyone could read it. He dips a little as his hands rest on the back of your thighs, his eye contact not once breaking from you. In one swift motion he picks you up, bringing you eye level with him. You make a yelp of surprise and wrap your legs around his wait for stability. Before you can adjust, he’s moving again. 

The moss feels soft as he lays you down, his lips trailing kisses down your throat. He works lower and lower until he finds where the sweater ends. He attacks the skin beneath, his hands gripping your hips fiercely, and works his way up, stopping just beneath your breasts. The cool air hits your skin and sends shivers over you, adding to the pleasure. 

You make a sound of disappointment as he leaves your breasts and comes back up to kiss you. He plants one last peck on your pink lips before pushing up on his forearms. 

“We need to stop.”

You pull him down by his neck and kiss him again. 

“We really need to stop.” He says between your assault of kisses. 

Catching him off guard you push him over and straddle his waist. Your mouth trails across his chest before he sits up, forcing your mouth upwards to his once more. You can’t ignore his hands that ride up your back, feeling the soft skin beneath the sweater. He certainly knows that you’re not wearing a bra now. If only he’d slide his hands round and touch you. You ache for him. 

A whimper escapes your lips as you think about what you need, earning a growl from deep within Paul, that responds to you. 

“We have to stop.” he’s breathless so he loses all sense of command. 

“But-” You start to whine. The temptress within wanting full control. 

“The forest isn’t appropriate, who knows who can hear.”

You’re far enough from the cabin that they surely can’t hear you. Yet some part of you wonders if they could. 

“So we talk then.” You suggest, still trying to catch your breath and calm down. 

“Sure.”

You make no effort to move off his lap, liking his embrace. You both take a few minutes to regain some normal sense of thought. 

“You said before about soulmates.” He nods, urging you on “Well, maybe I believe you.”

He bursts into laughter, his whole body shaking underneath yours. You admire the way his eyes crinkle with happiness and the smile lines that appear in this moment of joy. 

“There are things I don’t understand though.”

Paul leans back on his arms, taking in the view before him. His eyes rove up and down and a sense of accomplishment fills him at the sight of your flushed, dishevelled appearance.

“You’re distracted, I can see. Maybe now isn’t the appropriate time to talk about this.” You suggest, slighting annoyed he can’t compose himself. He grabs your hands, stopping you from getting up. 

“I’m listening.” 

“Is this a cult?” You blurt out. 

Again he starts laughing. Big belly aching laughs that thunder across the clearing. You hit him playfully on the arm, hoping he can cut the crap.

“I’m serious!”

“Oh you are, are you?” he chuckles. “No, my friends and I aren’t in a cult.” The laughter remains in his eyes and sparkles. 

“That’s it?”

“There are some things that I can’t tell you.” he watches your face screw up in confusion. “Don’t look at me like that,” he sits back up and brushes his thumb across your pout. “Do you trust me?” He kisses you.

It sounds ridiculous but you do. You trust him with your life. Deep in your heart you know he’ll keep you safe and love you, even if it is in this weird way. 

“Just know that it’s nothing bad”

“Hmmm, at least tell me what’s up with the nakedness.” He pulls away from kissing you, “Don’t think about lying. You ran off in the storm while your clothes stayed on the porch… You’re always walking around half dressed and somehow don’t freeze. What’s up with that?”

“There’s no way I’m gonna come off as anything but crazy.” 

“I’m fully prepared.” You smile in reassurance.

“We’re at one with nature. There’s nothing more freeing or grounding than being a naturist.” 

“Weirdos,” you joke. A blush creeps up your neck as you imagine Paul as Jared had been today.

“Don’t be naughty.” Paul chides. 

“I don’t know what you’re on about.” You stick your tongue out.

He makes a humming sound, not believing a word you say before planting kisses to your neck again. 

“I’m sure you weren’t thinking inappropriate things in the slightest.” He teases. “My turn to ask a question.”

“Go on”

“Talked to Sarah yet?”

In one simple question, your mood completely shifts. The warm fuzzy haze you had been in swept away by the blistering cold glooming melancholia of the Sarah situation.  You roll your eyes before sighing.

“She’s ignoring me.” You pull your lips into a tight line. “I probably need to just turn up at her house.”

“Something tells me Sarah’s not the kind that enjoys being bombarded.”

Something clicks with what he’s said. The amount of times Sarah’s warned you. 

“Do you two know each other?” His eyes shift colour, the playfulness dashed by something cold. 

“I knew her Sister.”

“She never said, she only warned me-”

“To stay away from me, right?” You nod a reply. “Figures.” He sighs loudly “I had a lot of anger issues growing up and got in trouble once… or twice.” He must have seen the look on your face because he added “I never hurt her though, if that’s what that look suggests.” 

“No, no, I um… How well did you know her? The sister I mean…” You stare down at your hands that lay on your lap.

“Now who’s jealous.” He strokes a stray piece of hair behind your ear. 

“So there’s a reason to be jealous?” 

“It’s in the past, well in the past. And it meant more to her than me.” He stares at you for minutes as silence settles, unable to take it anymore he breaks it. 

“You ever hurt anyone?” You hated asking, but felt the need to.

There's a dead silence that emanates from him. 

“Yes.” 

“Would you have hurt Jared today?”

He looks up at you, eyes full of sorrow. 

“We’re a physical bunch. He’d have put up a good fight.”

“You’re bigger than him.” You point out, surprised at the honestly coming from him.

“We’re brothers. I’d only have whooped his ass a little, teach him to hit on my girl.”

“Too much testosterone in the group,” You joke. 

He doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even try to acknowledge the humour you used to try to lighten the subject. He only sighs deeply, his whole body deflating as his eyes drain of light.

“What’s wrong?” Your hands rest on his shoulders before they cup his face, giving it a playful squeeze. “Talk to me.” 

Before he even answers you know his sadness; feel it echoed in your own heart. You’d never felt abandonment before but recognised the fear as quickly as it arrived. Your hands slide down his arms, stroking soothing circles before wrapping his big hands in your delicate ones. 

Gently you place a kiss on both his hands and then rest your forehead against his. Looking deep into his eyes you feel a bridge, tiny and invisible, that connects the two of you. Electricity surges back and forth along the sinew of this soul bridge and for a moment you breathe as one.

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She was sunshine on a cold winter’s day.

His little dragon.  Given to him by the woman he was still awed to call “wife”.

Aemond reached down, smiling as his little daughter clasped his index finger with her tiny fist.  Her mouth, so much like his, curled into a toothless grin as she gurgled and cooed up at him.

She was beautiful.

A perfect creation.

Aemond carded his fingers through her soft white curls, her lilac eyes shining with adoration as he lifted her carefully into his arms.  She tugged at his own silver hair, chubby fingers probing the side of his face where his sapphire sat.

She seemed entranced by the glittering gemstone, her wide eyes staring in wonder, not fear.  Aemond’s throat tightened as he watched her study him, his heart feeling fuller than he ever thought possible.

Aemond bounced his little dragon in his arms, peppering kisses all over her scrunched up face until she giggled, her small fingers tugging at his nose and ears as she laughed wildly.

“Issa qēlos.”  Aemond murmured, tucking his daughter under his chin as he held her against his chest. “Ao issi issa glaeson.”

He continued speaking High Valyrian into her soft hair.  She had stilled, seemingly intent on listening to the low tone of his voice as he spoke the language of their ancestors.

Aemond turned to the arched window.  “Jurnegon.”  He pointed, guiding his daughter’s curious gaze to the sprawling city of King’s Landing, the sea sparkling blue far beyond.  A dragon, Dreamfyre by the blue hue of her scales, soared above the shimmering waves.  Far out, Aemond heard a distant roar.  “Zaldrīzes.”  He whispered into his daughter’s ear. “Dragon.”  He smiled, kissing the top of her head as she cooed at the beautiful creature. “Soon you will ride one of your own. Perhaps I will take you with me atop Vhagar someday.”

“Hopefully not before she is at least a year old, Aemond.”

His smile broadened as he turned to the doorway, his wife looking radiant as she shook her head teasingly at him. “I’ll not allow you to take our infant daughter on a dragon joyride.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, my love.”  Aemond chuckled, crossing to kiss her deeply, savoring the taste of her lips as their daughter shifted to look up at them, her little arms reaching out for her mother.

“She’s hungry.”  Y/N said, hoisting the child into her arms and cradling her against her bosom.

Aemond moved back to the window, resting his back against the stone wall as he watched his wife feed their baby.  She rocked the little one, looking down at her with radiant adoration as she hummed a soft lullaby.

“You are a wonderful mother.”  He murmured.

“Just as you are the best father.”  She graced him with one of those smiles that made his heart skip a beat.

She did not know the impact those words had, and Aemond gave nothing away in his expression.  To be the kind of father Aemond never had was one of the greatest desires of his life.

Tempering the emotion swelling within him, Aemond strode over to where Y/N still nursed their daughter, embracing her from behind as he kissed her head, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her hair.  His hands trailed from the curves of her waist to cradle where their daughter lay nestled secure in her arms.

She sighed, leaning back into him, tilting her lovely head up to accept the searching kiss he pressed to her honeyed lips.  A warm breeze floated through the open window, caressing Aemond’s skin and sending his long hair fluttering over his shoulders, tickling the column of Y/N’s neck.  She giggled into his mouth, pulling away only slightly to brush her nose against his.

Their small daughter, now finished with her morning meal, stared up at them sleepily.  Aemond brushed a thumb along the corner of her mouth, wiping away a droplet of moisture.  “She’s a messy eater.”  He mused.

“She gets it from your side of the family.”  Y/N teased, readjusting her bodice.

“Undoubtedly.”  Aemond agreed.

Their daughter reached out for him with both arms, straining to escape Y/N’s grasp.  “It seems like she has an obsession with your hair.”  His wife laughed, rolling her eyes as their daughter twined her tiny fingers once more in Aemond’s mussed locks.

“She inherited that from you.”  Aemond shot his wife a mischievous glance, wincing slightly at a particularly sharp tug.

She slapped his shoulder playfully. “Oh hush.”

“As well as her strength!”  Aemond feigned injury, looking down at the happy face of his little daughter. “You will have the might of ten men, and the stature of one of the Queens of Old Valyria.”

“Perzys se ānogar.”  Y/N said softly, drawing Aemond’s lilac gaze to her reverent face.