A moment they’ve both been waiting for

Gill lets himself be manoeuvred onto the bed. The chance to lie down, after everything that’s happened, and Rosabel ministering to him – it feels so good. He settles back and tries not to flinch as she tends to the cut at the base of his neck. She lets out a gasp of alarm as she gets a better look.

“Another half an inch, and – oh, Gill, I’m so sorry…”

“It wasn’t you,” Gill says – about to shake his head, but a touch from Rosabel reminds him to keep still. “It was her. It was Athisz. She’s gone now.”

“Gone.” Rosabel repeats the word, lost, confused. “What in the world is happening?” She looks around, glancing through the doorway into the mist-shrouded world outside. “Where are we?”

Gill tries to tell the story, having to pause for the occasional wince or just to stop himself moving too much while Rosabel dresses the small cut. Athisz’s true nature, the portal, the Valley, the feud between the Hamadryad and the Erlking, and this **** gambit to end the conflict without their fellow villagers being slaughtered.

“That’s as far as I understand it,” he finishes. “It’s what Luxara told me, anyway.”

“Luxara.” Rosabel’s lips move silently for a moment before recollection dawns. “I remember! I think. She was – she came to the village, and…she tried to fight Athisz…” Gill sees a shiver go through her as the memories resurface.

She shakes her head. “It didn’t make sense to me then. I’m not sure it does now.” She pauses a moment, cheeks reddening slightly. “I can’t tell which parts were an illusion, all in my mind. I remember her being small, but very, um.” She mimes vaguely but expressively. “Well-endowed.”

“I didn’t really notice,” Gill lies. “Never had a lot of time for those adventuring mercenary types, myself. But she’s done right by us.”

“Well, she must have her reasons for wandering,” Rosabel says, her hands busy as she finishes dressing Gill’s wound. He closes his eyes, trying to keep as still as possible for her. Every touch is cooling, soothing. “Something she’s looking for, perhaps.”

“Perhaps.”

“A place to settle down, somewhere she can really call home.”

“Maybe so.”

“Or the right person to settle down with…”

His eyes still closed, Gill feels Rosabel’s hand touch his; warm, delicate. Gingerly, he moves his fingers to lace together with hers, feeling the thrill of togetherness. Finally he musters the courage to look up, to meet her eyes, oases of clear sky amid the misty gloom of the Valley.

“She’d be lucky to find a man like you,” Rosabel whispers.

Gill shakes his head. “She’s not the one I want to be with. I’ve known that for a long time.” And Lux has shown no interest in him either. Well, she threw herself on top of him and tried to kiss him, but that doesn’t necessarily mean…

A pause. Gill squeezes Rosabel’s hand; thinking he can feel his pulse racing even through that touch, just as his is.

“I’ve always wanted – ”

“I never found a way to say how – ”

“You go first.”

“No, you.”

Her laughter, music in Gill’s ears. The world of myths and monsters is out there, forgotten. In here, there is only her. His world.

Her hand brushes against his neck – a caress, but in her eyes he sees that she’s also checking her work on the dressing. With a professional’s satisfied nod, she straightens up. Then, inches a little closer. Hesitates.

The next thing he knows, she’s clambering on top of him, the bed creaking under their combined weight. She’s both heavier than he expected, and still light as a feather, a flower – soft, delicate, strong, brilliant. Can it really be that, all this time, each of them was waiting for the other to make the first move…?