Silence reigned in the hired room, a silence touched only by the soft sound of breath moving in, sweeping out, quiet and smooth in the gloom. Moonlight flickered in through the half-open shutters, illuminating just enough that the concerned vigil of a half-dryad could continue. She sat with her back against the post at the foot of the bed, her bare feet laid by the side of the sleeping man upon whom her dark eyes were set.
How much these past weeks had changed him. The smooth fullness of cheek, the easy-going smile, the relaxed posture, all were gone, replaced with the gauntness and tension she had never thought to see in him. But then, she had never thought to link him with the forests, to torment him with the silent roar of thousands of trees speaking to him in the enclosures of his mind.
He was human, it should not have been possible. Even she, only half-dryad, had found it hard in the first days of her awakening to reconcile the constant sound within her mind, even when she had begun to understand that the roar of whispering voices was merely a welcome, a joyous call from the trees to invite the newest member of that select band who could hear them to come into the forests and stay.
He shifted in his sleep, and her breath caught, fearful that the voices had returned to waken him, to drag him from the healing slumber he had succumbed to only hours before. But no, just a shifting, and he fell back, one frail hand wrapping around her foot, his face turned towards her as she watched him.
She remembered then the ease with which she had followed the thread of the bond between them into his mind. Hearts that thumped in steady tandem had soothed him just enough that she could witness what it was that had kept him from her for so many days. And she had been horrified by what she had heard. The call of the trees, overwhelming to one who did not understand them, who could not command them, filling his mind, clouding his conscious, until he knew nothing. If she looked deeper into what he had told her, he had lost himself in that deafening whisper, becoming as they were, as part of her would someday become.
In truth, she did not know what she could do for him, beyond what she had already done. Her command to the call in the silence of his mind had done little but quiet the hum; if he truly had linked to her in the manner it seemed, then that hum would never be entirely still. But it would only intrude in warning, or in welcome, should he step beneath the boughs of the trees once more.
And here was her choice. To remain with him, the man who had won her heart and soul, he who had shown her a love every bit as deep and focused as her own, would mean never again stepping beneath the boughs of her beloved trees, for to do so would be to reawaken the link within him that had almost destroyed his mind. As a human, he could not be expected to understand that ever-present murmur, though she longed to teach him, to show him the way to command they who had harmed him so without ever truly meaning to.
Again he shifted, rolling onto his side with a quiet groan. Her heart beat in tandem with his, and she knew her choice was already made. No matter where the road took them, or how much the loss might pain a child of the forests, Ceridwyn's path lay with the sleeping man before her, with the one to whom her heart and soul belonged. With her meleth, her Brennan, her life's mate.
And perhaps, in time, that deafening whisper could be conquered, and they would once again walk beneath her beloved trees. But until then, she would bear the pain of loss, to keep her love from succumbing once more to the furious call of voices he could never understand.
How much these past weeks had changed him. The smooth fullness of cheek, the easy-going smile, the relaxed posture, all were gone, replaced with the gauntness and tension she had never thought to see in him. But then, she had never thought to link him with the forests, to torment him with the silent roar of thousands of trees speaking to him in the enclosures of his mind.
He was human, it should not have been possible. Even she, only half-dryad, had found it hard in the first days of her awakening to reconcile the constant sound within her mind, even when she had begun to understand that the roar of whispering voices was merely a welcome, a joyous call from the trees to invite the newest member of that select band who could hear them to come into the forests and stay.
He shifted in his sleep, and her breath caught, fearful that the voices had returned to waken him, to drag him from the healing slumber he had succumbed to only hours before. But no, just a shifting, and he fell back, one frail hand wrapping around her foot, his face turned towards her as she watched him.
She remembered then the ease with which she had followed the thread of the bond between them into his mind. Hearts that thumped in steady tandem had soothed him just enough that she could witness what it was that had kept him from her for so many days. And she had been horrified by what she had heard. The call of the trees, overwhelming to one who did not understand them, who could not command them, filling his mind, clouding his conscious, until he knew nothing. If she looked deeper into what he had told her, he had lost himself in that deafening whisper, becoming as they were, as part of her would someday become.
In truth, she did not know what she could do for him, beyond what she had already done. Her command to the call in the silence of his mind had done little but quiet the hum; if he truly had linked to her in the manner it seemed, then that hum would never be entirely still. But it would only intrude in warning, or in welcome, should he step beneath the boughs of the trees once more.
And here was her choice. To remain with him, the man who had won her heart and soul, he who had shown her a love every bit as deep and focused as her own, would mean never again stepping beneath the boughs of her beloved trees, for to do so would be to reawaken the link within him that had almost destroyed his mind. As a human, he could not be expected to understand that ever-present murmur, though she longed to teach him, to show him the way to command they who had harmed him so without ever truly meaning to.
Again he shifted, rolling onto his side with a quiet groan. Her heart beat in tandem with his, and she knew her choice was already made. No matter where the road took them, or how much the loss might pain a child of the forests, Ceridwyn's path lay with the sleeping man before her, with the one to whom her heart and soul belonged. With her meleth, her Brennan, her life's mate.
And perhaps, in time, that deafening whisper could be conquered, and they would once again walk beneath her beloved trees. But until then, she would bear the pain of loss, to keep her love from succumbing once more to the furious call of voices he could never understand.