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Galain was feeding An’Thaya Mai’Tus fruit. He had her lying partially on her side on a chaise lounge of sorts, just outside the cottage. She was heavily pregnant with twins and the elf wanted to make sure she was comfortable. Though the circumstances concerning this particular pregnancy were different from what he would have liked he’d given himself over to just taking care of his wife.
“Is it me, or is it even more incredibly humid today than usual?” He asked, peeling yet another fruit. It hadn’t occurred to him that he might be overdoing it in the Mai’Tus department, but he hadn’t heard Tay complain yet. “Maybe it’s just me,” he said, throwing her a grin and offering her the fruit. He was seated on the ground and leaning back, close to Tay’s swollen tummy and couldn’t miss the unborn children’s tussling inside the Amazon’s body.
“Doesn’t that ever freak you out?” He inquired. “I mean really, look! Your stomach is actually moving – see! There’s a foot, there’s a hand. Gods! I swear that was a face!” The elf stared intently at Tay’s stomach until the fetal activity calmed down and he smiled at Tay.
“More fruit?” He was in the midst of reaching for yet another Mai’Tus when he blinked a little. The bond that connected him to Ghetsuhm had closed. It wasn’t a slam or anything, just a gentle shutting off on her side of things. He smiled to himself and wondered what she was up to and then continued peeling more fruit.
It was possible he had developed a fruit fetish…
Tay was quite comfortable, a soft smile curling her lips as she twined her fingers in Galain's golden hair. "No, it doesn't," she snickered, "It's reassuring actually. I know they are happy and healthy. Oh… no thank you, they are probably protesting the fruit overload." Her eyes closed and she breathed in, taking in the scent of jungle and orchids, "Mmmm... maybe a little more humid.... is something wrong?" The Amazon's emerald gaze was focused on her husband, catching his momentary pause. His private little smile reassured her though. "Or not."
Reaching over she plucked the peeled Mai'Tus from his fingers and split the segments apart, feeding one to him instead. She watched his face intently for a moment, thinking how lucky she was to have him. He had been terribly understanding after their initial blowout over Adarin. Sometimes she wondered how many layers there actually were to Galain... and if she would ever discover them all.
Her thought process was interrupted by the D'Riel web. Not by any surge of energy, or contact... there was just a horribly... blank spot. Almost as if someone had died... but not quite. Disturbed An'Thaya pushed herself up to a sitting position, growling in frustration as she was hampered by her heavy abdomen. It took her a moment to find the source, the part that was missing, and her brow furrowed in concern. Ro? Ro where are you? There was no answer... Well, her brother had gone behind the wards of S'Hea the last she had heard from him. Perhaps that was all it was?
“No… nothing’s… wrong,” Galain had started to reply, talking around the fruit in his mouth when Tay sat up, obviously intent upon something he wasn’t picking up on. “What is it?” He sat up straighter and wiped errant juice off his chin with the back of his hand. “Tay?” And then his entire body stiffened and the gate to Ghet’s mind and soul was abruptly and completely shut off to him. Galain let out a low gasp. That wasn’t normal. Agitation caused the elf’s brow to furrow and he caught at Tay’s hand.
“Tell me, Tay. What are you feeling?” He asked, the normalcy of the day slipping into a queasy haze of unease.
Her husband's shock fed directly through to her, and An'Thaya's eyes widened, "Me? What? What's happened to Ghet?" Alarm bells were going off now, and the Amazon probed at the D'Riel web with a little more intensity. A conduit was active somewhere... Ro's conduit... but the dark threads in it... "Oh... Oh Gods..." She stood up abruptly, a little too abruptly and nearly sat right back down. "It can't be... no... no, no. He'll kill her." Making a grab for Galain, eyes wild she nearly shook him, "Where is Ghet?" It was more than alarm now; dark pulses were beginning to flood the web. Tay was positive the Demon had broken loose, and she was suddenly terrified.
Galain’s unease exploded into downright fear as Tay grew more agitated.
“She was probably at Riker’s,” he said. “That’s the usual place at least. I can’t feel her, Tay. She closed things a bit and then all of a sudden everything went black. Tay, are you all right? Tay?” He wrapped an arm around his wife, feeling a sick dread filling his soul. “Who will kill her, love?” He asked, not wanting an answer, but needing it. His mind was racing with wild conjectures and guesses and he had to suck in a long breath to attain any sort of relative calm. His hand was on her abdomen and he felt her children kicking again – in a far more active fashion than ever before and he gave her a startled look.
The Amazon shook her head wildly, the emerald of her eyes suddenly glowing an odd shade of green. "Open a portal, I have to see... I have to know." Her hands were shaking, a cold sweat suddenly breaking out over her body. An'Thaya had only faced the Demon once, and that was more than enough. If he was with Ghet... Her throat was suddenly dry and she swallowed hard. "Please Galain." She pushed at him urgently, lacking the mental focus to do it herself. Minutes had ticked by, precious time...
Galain wasted no time and immediately formed a portal – a quick one that instinctively opened into the main floor of Riker’s. Galain didn’t hesitate and quickly escorted Tay through. He nodded once at Peter, waved at a few regular patrons and then ushered Tay forward and into a more secluded spot. Nothing like bringing one’s heavily pregnant wife into a… well hells. Galain turned around and called back to Peter.
“Have you seen Ghetsuhm?” He asked. The bartender paused in the midst of serving a customer and frowned, thinking.
“Can’t say as I have. Might be upstairs somewhere,” he offered. He stared more intently at Galain who just waved him off, nodding his thanks. He eyed Tay.
“Okay. Upstairs is huge. I have no idea where she might be. We’re going to have search room by room.” He hit the wall behind him with a white-knuckled fist. “Come one, there are three upper levels besides the penthouse. Gods. She could be anywhere.” He hurried Tay toward the stairs and prayed Ghet was on the second level. He realized halfway up that his wife still hadn’t answered the “who” question he’d asked.
When they hit the top of the stairs Tay slowed down, slowly turning, tracking. "Wait," she said, steadying herself with a hand on Galain's arm. "I can trace him through the conduit... he's using it." It took a moment, but she focused finally, turning to face the medbay. "That way," she said, gesturing. There wasn't any need to encourage him, and the Amazon nearly ran despite her condition.
They had just come within view of the doors when the D'Riel web exploded, hitting An'Thaya with an invisible force that dropped the redhead to her knees. Gasping for air she clung to Galain for a mad moment, horror stricken. They were too late ... Tears streamed down her face and she pushed at her husband weakly, "Go, they are in there." Her hand suddenly grabbed his vest, and she yanked the Elen down to her eye level, brute strength winning out over the pain she was obviously in. "DON'T hurt him ... promise me you won't hurt him ... or so help me..." A sharp contraction hit at that moment and the Amazon's words were cut off.
Galain was frustrated beyond belief. He had no idea who "he" was, but Tay's last words had his hackles rising.
"I promise nothing, melda," he replied. "If Ghet is hurt in any way I cannot promise anything." He made a move to escape her grip and then he saw her obvious pain. "Oh gods. They're coming, aren't they? Have Adarin come. Gods, Tay." He pulled away, stumbling to his feet, dizzy with anxiety for both wives. But when he threw open the medbay doors everything exploded for him and his entire attention was focused on the bloodied form of Ghetsuhm before he shifted his gaze to Y’Roden. Time felt like it was slowed down for the Elen as he took in the scene, trying to comprehend what he was seeing. The scent of blood, sex and animal fear assaulted his senses and Galain staggered backward and then lurched forward.
Think first, he tried to tell himself as he skidded to his knees beside Ghet's prone form. He touched her cheek and then he shot a look of pure hatred at Y’Roden. To the elf it seemed horribly obvious what had happened here yet he had no understanding as to why.
"Why the bloody hell?!" He exclaimed and lunged at the other elf, anger overriding everything else at the moment.
Ghet became aware that she was in shock. She couldn't really hear or see, she was just drifting in a welcome numbness. She hadn't even realised how badly she was hurt until Y’Roden started to heal her. She thought about objecting. She knew he was still badly hurt. She should, half the blood coating her was his. But somehow, she could not make herself care.
His words filtered through to her, and she raised her head to look at him. She wanted to deny it. She didn't want him dead. She just couldn't find an actual argument. Right now, she would be better off if she'd left him dead. It wasn't his fault, but she would be.
And then her bond hummed into life and Galain came through the door. Relief rushed through her. She even managed to move, gingerly, and when he touched her the tears started again. She just wanted him to hold her while she wept, and to never, never have to tell him what had happened.
Except men weren't built that way. He went for Ro, and she was hit with a strong flashback. It was so much the same. She was lying just as she was now, naked and bruised and so scared, but on grass. And Chase was leaving her there, alone, while he killed the man who'd hurt her. She'd thought Galain was different...
"Don't, honey," she said, but her voice was just a whisper. She tried to raise some more enthusiasm for it, but it wasn't there. "Please don't. It wasn't him."
Furious rage tore through Galain as he struck at Y’Roden, uncaring of the other's hunched position. He heard Tay's request shoot through his mind again. Don't hurt him! And then he heard Ghet's whisper somehow and he flinched back, confused.
"It wasn't him?" He asked, not at all understanding what she meant. He shot a look at Y’Roden that said, "No way, you'll have to prove it" and then he dropped back to Ghet's side, drawing his vest off and trying to cover her as best he could. He stared back at Y’Roden, murder in his eyes and heart. His fists clenched convulsively yet he remained still now, breathing heavily as he tried to control himself.
Y'Roden's hands were torn away from Ghet under the force of Galain's strike and he cried out, the Aethyr spinning wildly, going haywire without anything to channel into. "Let me heal her," he growled, "DON'T touch me." The Elen's anger was feeding the Demon, and he had to keep his eyes carefully averted from Ghet's gaze. They met sea-green rage instead, looking back with a dull pain that just barely hid the deadly ferocity of the beast. Emerald and crimson clashed, spun an uneasy tide within expanding and contracting irises. "Let me fix her."
"Fix her? Who 'broke' her? One tells me not to hurt you; the other says it's not you. Who did this? Why?" He bit back further invective and huddled close to Ghetsuhm's head, crooning quietly to her - an ancient Elen lullaby of all things. He closed his eyes and rocked slightly. They are first. They are first. They are first. It was a short mantra he kept saying. The clash of emerald and red a desperate siren to the elf who so wanted to beat Y’Roden to a pulp, and yet a warning to back off lest something worse yet happen.
Like what? He asked himself bitterly. He shot another look at Y’Roden, hatred manifesting itself despite the elf's best attempts to cover it. Maybe… as soon as he knew Ghet was really okay…
"You wouldn't understand," Y'Roden ground out, "Are you just going to let her bleed to death? Or are you going to let me touch her?" He didn't dare make a move; the half-elf was terrified, though he refused to let Galain see it.
Kill him, the mocking voice of the Demon said, Just reach out... and snap his pompous little head off of his body. He's been a thorn in our side too long.
SHUT UP!!! You've already damaged things beyond repair!
The urge to do just as the Demon ordered was strong, but concern for Ghet over-rode it. Ghet... and his child. Gods.... what had he done?
"Understand?!" Galain's laughter was a bitter sound, gravely and hoarse. "Fine. 'Fix' her as you put it." He withdrew slightly, but kept a hand twined into Ghet's hair, caressing her, his soul spinning into hers with that ancient song as he watched Y’Roden warily. "But you die afterward," he hissed, promise dripping heavily from his words.
Y'Roden ignored Galain's threat, not even sparing him a glance as he returned to what he had been doing. The half-elf began to bleed openly again, though there was no outward reaction to the pain. Not even a flinch when his pelvic bone shattered and reformed. "It's alright Ghettie," he said in a shaky tone, "You're going to be ok now." His body tensed, he pulled back, every movement a physical effort to keep the Demon contained. Wary eyes turned on the Elen as Ro stumbled to his feet, watching... waiting.... hoping to hell he could hold it together.
"What a good boy you are," Galain hissed, heartbreak filling him, then pain for his wife, anxiety for her well-being occupying him entirely for several long minutes. He'd heard breaking bone, understood the healing process, known what he'd known and now stared venomously at Y’Roden. It was his fault? Hells! Galain didn't care. A lot of things tumbled about in his mind as he watched, magicking a blanket to cover Ghetsuhm more fully. He rose to his feet and for once towered over Y’Roden.
"Get the hell out before I kick your ass out," he hissed, moving swiftly to attack Y’Roden before he could even move. He didn't care how wounded the other was. He still smelled the S’Hean elf on his wife and that was more than enough for him.
Y’Roden was tired, wounded, weak from lack of blood. He just wanted to cringe away from Galain… Gods, he bloody well deserved it if the blonde elf wanted to kill him. It wasn't HIS hand that lashed out, grabbing Galain by the throat with crushing strength. It wasn't him that dealt a blow from his free hand hitting the blonde in the solar plexus, driving the air from the other's body. Cat slit eyes were fully crimson as the Demon Elf lifted the Elen off the floor, bare inches, but it was enough. Fresh blood coursed from the half-elf's wounds, but he didn't seem to notice.
"YOU pathetic waste of skin. The ONLY thing that has kept you alive all these years is that woman out in the hallway. HE calls her sister, HE is weak, and would not break her heart. I, however, have no such compassion."
Galain let out a gasp of surprise. He'd never quite met the Demon face to face and whatever genetic changes were ongoing within his own DNA were too scattered and weak to coalesce into something strong enough to face this red-eyed creature. He nearly let 'Lain loose, and then checked himself. The elf's soul screamed out for blood, for vengeance, for anything.
He wasn't getting it today.
Hells, he'd probably never get it. Galain let out a sigh of frustration, going deceptively limp before he suddenly kicked Y’Roden’s body in his exposed groin, ripping himself away as best he could.
"I said to get out. Go away. Get away from here. I mean it. Just get out," the elf bit out, bending over and going to his knees. He fell against Ghet's legs and knuckled his eyes, more frustration winning out over his hatred and anger. He was pathetic, was his first thought. It slipped away to realizing he wasn't… he was actually being smart for once. He opened his eyes and stared at Y’Roden and whatever the holy hells it was that was living in his body.
"Get OUT!" He hissed again as he hovered protectively over Ghetsuhm.
Snarling rage exploded out of the Demon like a living entity all on it's own. Y'Roden howled in dismay, feeling himself losing out again. Terrified of what was about to happen. He could no longer stop it, the beast's murderous intent made him ill. The blow to the groin had slowed it down... for a minute. But it was just a matter of time. No matter how much he hated Galain, he never wanted this. He could actually see them... the blonde elf hovering protectively over Ghetsuhm, the entire vision stained blood red through the Demon's eyes. It wouldn't do either of them any good, and no matter how hard Ro struggled for control, the pain made his unwelcome roommate stronger.
It straightened, taking a threatening step forward, lip curling in malicious intent.
"Hey... you."
The voice distracted it, crimson eyes turned to look at the redhead leaning heavily on the doorframe.
"You heard him, he said get out. Out of my brother's head will do well enough."
The last thing the Demon saw was an arch of emerald green electricity, the conduit full blown as An'Thaya threw everything she had at him. It drove him back into the wall with a sharp crack. A startled look filled blood red eyes for a moment, then they rolled back and he slumped to the floor.
An'Thaya drew a sharp gasp of air, letting herself slide down the doorframe. "If he dies... " She didn't finish the sentence. Her tattoo flared, sending out a panicked beacon to Adarin.
Galain stared dumbfounded first at Y’Roden, and then in An'Thaya's direction. He shut his eyes and lay on Ghet's stomach, at once dreadfully disappointed and strangely relieved. He prayed Adarin would come and fast, that somehow Y’Roden’s crumpled form would just disappear.
He heard Tay’s call instantly of course. He’d been concentrating on his skill with the bow and failing yet again. The cry from his bondmate had his last arrow winging way off south and the Elen King threw things down. He instantly disappeared from Arlsyn and arrived beside Tay, his sense of direction unerring.
“I’m right here, love,” he whispered, catching her swiftly. He had enough time to take in the bloody sight beyond them and he let out a shocked gasp. But it was the thrumming and kicking that he felt in Tay’s body that had him moving swiftly away, removing her from here paramount in his mind. He’d take her directly to her cottage in the jungle.
“Enough has been done here,” he said to her quietly, both of them winking out of sight.
There was singing in her head. It was immensely comforting. Ghet felt like she was floating. Maybe she was dreaming. Galain was right here, and someone had put a blanket over her, and taken the pain away, and she was just so tired.
People were shouting, though. How could she sleep with people shouting like that? She made a shushing noise, but it didn't seem to make any difference. So she opened her eyes, and that was when she saw the thing that had done this to her, hurting her husband. She tried to scream, but it wouldn't come out. She dragged her aching body backwards until she was under the table. Maybe he wouldn't see her down here. She curled in on herself and started to whimper.
She didn't really catch the next bit. She thought she saw and heard Thaya, but then she was gone. Perhaps she'd dreamed that, too. Ro was lying down. Maybe he was dead. She tried to feel something about that. It was all very confusing. Didn't she love Y’Roden? She looked at him, and felt her stomach turn over. She loved him. She hated him. She was terrified of him. She whimpered. The whimper became a scream. She held out her arms to her husband, desperate for his comfort, unaware he'd have to crawl through a puddle of her blood to get to her. Soon she'd be able to explain, but not yet.
It was like a hundred different shades of emerald threads had just been dropped into her mind, like a weaver spilling her basket of yarn, and she was trying to figure out which one was which. For a moment the vivid greens of the D’Riel web drowned out the tapestry in her mind, throwing her a little off kilter.
The bowl she’d been holding shattered on the kitchen floor and the forest elf slapped her hands over her ears in a feeble attempt to cut out the noise of what seemed like a thousand different voices chattering through her head, causing a roar in her ears. Mentally she wadded through the mess, discarding the hysterical shrieks of the shadows. Worry flashed through her eyes when she discovered that something was going on that involved her favourite uncle.
“Dae, are you alright?”
Shadow looked up at Jaret then towards Riel before spinning around as the wards around her ancestral cottage home shifted, marking that someone was leaving and not by normal means. The alarms that were already going off in her head went up a few more notches. She ran out the door and towards the last place she’d seen Adarin just in time to see him begin to wink out.
“Riel!” she yelled, racing towards the spot the Elen King had disappeared, if she had any luck, she could catch a ride by using the residue of his disappearance.
“Go Amil! We’ll take care of everything.” Was the last thing she heard from her son as she winked out, only to reappear hot on Adarin’s heels.
Her eyes took in the room before falling upon her Ad’Vere.
Tay collapsed into Adarin's arms, trusting in him completely. Her eyes flickered up to meet Shadow's as the Elen King turned and she managed a weak smile. "When he wakes up... if his eyes are red... put him back to sleep. And if that one tries to do anything to him while he's down," she gestured at Galain, "Well, I'm sure I don't have to fill in the blanks." Before she could say much more Adarin had apparently had enough, for they both disappeared.
Shadow nodded, even though the couple was gone and spun around. Blood was everywhere, and there was screaming…
“De’Toya…” she muttered as she realized who the screaming was coming from. Shadow followed Ghet’s line of sight to where Y’Roden laid and headed in that direction. Kneeling beside him, she felt for a pulse, a corner of her mouth curled up when she found one.
“Uncle Pork chop?” she tried whispering the pet name into his mind, letting him know that she was there, but unsure whether she’d be heard or not.
“Can’t you make her shut up!” Shadow shouted over her shoulder towards her father, not caring how cold hearted she was sounding. She only had one priority at the moment and to hell with everyone else. If she was able, she'd apologize later, but at the moment An’Thaya’s words played over in her mind.
“If that one tries to do anything to him while he's down…Well, I'm sure I don't have to fill in the blanks.”
The copper elf looked over her shoulder only briefly at the Elen. Could she play assassin if she needed to? She’d been willing to do it before, had almost gone out of her way to do it before. The cold reality of it seeped in to her. If Galain tried to do anything to Y’Roden while she was there…he was a dead man.
Someone was screaming. It was about the only thing getting through to Y'Roden's rather crazed mind at the moment. There was pain, massive pain, and small arcs of electricity skittered across his skin.
Uncle Pork Chop? A familiar voice whispered in his mind, comforting, bringing peace, calming the confusion, rage, and agony. It belonged to someone he trusted, who knew his secrets, and kept them safe.
Emerald eyes flickered open, gazing up into Forest Green. They were blank at first, as if the pulse beneath Shadow's fingers was a liar, but a spark lit deep in their depths as consciousness forced its way to the forefront. "Shady?" The word was a whisper, "What happened?" His hands moved, trying to shield his ears against the screams, but the movement sent pain searing through his body. A hoarse cry fell from his lips, and he simply let his hands drop.
Who was screaming? What was going on?
He was naked and bleeding... the realization brought a crimson flush to his face. Not that he was shy, but it was his niece hovering over him at the moment. "Ow.... Did I.... have I done something?" A feeling of dread came over him and he poked around in his soul. The Demon was firmly locked into a dark corner of his mind... but he could still hear it. Enraged it hammered at the confines of Ro's mind, though there was a smug sense of satisfaction there as well.
Memory began to seep through. He would have shaken his head in denial... but he couldn't move. Tears of shame leaked from his eyes and the half-elf managed to cover his head with one arm. "No... no... oh. Just let him kill me Shady... Wait... no, don't.... Silverthorn..." Death was preferable at the moment, but not at his wife's expense. Shoulders shaking with silent sobs Ro curled in on himself, Ghet's screams ripping through his soul like the Manticore had rent his flesh.
Things had shifted again and Ghetsuhm had crawled away from him. Galain wasn't aware of Adarin's arrival or of his departure with Tay. He was not aware of Shadow even until she hissed a command at him and he gave her a stunned look. He shot a venomous look at Y’Roden and then quite obligingly crawled through that puddle of his wife's blood to her side again. He lifted her up and into his arms, then cradled her and started gently kissing her cheek, silently crooning to her.
I'm here. It's okay to stop screaming. I'm right here holding you. He shot another glance toward his daughter and Y’Roden. He tensed, aching to push Shadow away so he could pound Y’Roden’s head into the floor until he was dead. He stayed put though, still crooning quietly to Ghetsuhm and wrapping the blanket around her.
Now to Ghet's mind, or what was left of it, it seemed there'd been rather too many people trouping through her medbay witnessing her humiliation. Later, when she was better, she was probably going to spend another couple of hundred years not speaking to Shadow. It was simple, really. She wasn't allowed to be angry with Y’Roden. It wasn't his fault. All the anger had to go somewhere.
Galain's spirit soothed her, enough to take the edge off the hysteria, and now she just wept quietly. She had obligations, and she couldn't collapse completely yet. Soon she could have a hot bath and get the blood out of her hair and get drunk and... well, maybe not sleep. That might be asking a bit much. Indonya, anarnya, it wasn't him, okay? This hurts him just as much as it does me. Okay, maybe not that much. And he's wounded, I should help him. Okay, that was too much. She couldn't go within arm's reach.
No you shouldn’t, was Galain’s firm reply. Shadow can do that. She can take him back to Corin or send him on his way. You do not have to help him. He was trying to ignore her other words. How could it not have been him? He didn’t care if Y’Roden hurt. He didn’t give a good gods damn at the moment. The one who hurt and who mattered to him was in his arms at the moment.
In a moment we’ll get you to our rooms, I’ll draw you that bath I know you’re craving, wash your hair, get you something to drink, wrap you up in softness and warmth and then you’ll sleep, sleep, sleep. Okay?
He wasn’t looking in Shadow or Y’Roden’s direction now
Relief flooded through her when a spark brightened his eyes.
“Like hell I will, that wasn’t an option to start with…and don’t go getting modest on me now.” Shadow rocked back on her heels, resting her elbows on her knees and silently watched the half-elf. She’d forgotten what it felt like to hurt another and to have no control over it, especially since it was the last thing you wanted to do.
She remained silent, the sounds coming from her step mother and her uncle made her think of some raging storm, the sobs echoing the screams, like thunder after lightning.
“Death, my dear uncle, isn’t an option, getting you out of here and healed, is, before he decides to be judge and jury.” She didn’t know what was on a higher priority though, and she really didn’t care if Galain heard what she said. Sighing with a slight frown on her lips, she brushed her hand over the half-elf’s hair, ignoring the blood that stained her hand.
Copper fingers began to glow in a swirl of forest green and silver mist, and the faint smell of violets was drowned out by the metallic smell of blood. Gently, she swept her glowing hands over the wounds, like a mother reassuring a child. She had the strangest feeling that, in a way, history was repeating itself, only some of the players were different, and other’s roles were reversed.
Once again, she rocked back on her heels, watching the last of the wounds knit together. “There’ll be bruises and perhaps a little tender, but you’ll be fine…” She wished she could say the same for him mentally. “Come on Daro, let’s get you home.” Rising to her feet she offered him a hand. The corner of her mouth twitched slightly. “You owe me a shirt.” It was her strange humour coming through, a habit she’d picked up long ago to try to ease tension. “We can worry about that later, right now, let’s just get you home.” Shadow repeated softly.
Ro closed his eyes, just letting Shadow take over for now. He would think later, at the moment, self preservation was starting to drive him. The scent of violets soothed his senses and his skin tingled under the magic. The half-elf almost pushed her away... he didn't deserve to have the pain taken. Not after what he had just done. However, he was well aware from past experience how well arguments with Shady went, so he just gave in. There was no fight left in him anymore.
"Thank you," he murmured, eyes still closed as he felt his wounds knit shut. Bruises and tender spots... he could live with that. There was so much that needed to be said, and he had to tell Ghet she was carrying his child... his son. But it would have to wait. Neither of them could have taken the added mental stress at the moment. Ro just wanted to go home.
"Ok." Reaching up he grasped the Forest Elf's hand, shocked at his own weakness when she actually had to give a good pull to help him to his feet.
"I think I need clothing... never mind... " It was a little late for modesty. What he had been wearing was blood-soaked and scattered across the floor with his weapons. He had no real desire to touch any of it. Leaning heavily on the wall he nodded vaguely at her, "Portal..." Tapping the D'Riel web almost timidly he fed Shadow the coordinates for Corin, more specifically, his chambers. He had no desire to end up in the Throne Room stark naked, and at the moment, he could not have conjured handfire.
Now probably wasn’t the best time to admit portals were one of the items on the ‘caution, use under extreme emergency’ list, so she shoved her usual nervousness aside, took the coordinates given and did as was needed.
“Next stop, home.” Reaching out she took Ro’s arm and placed it around her shoulders, slipped her arm around his waist and stepped forward, leading the way into the pulsing green and silver swirling mist.
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