Moonshadow (42 page)

If only it could just be the two of us, in our own little world. No Edea, no Inquisitors and no Shadowstalkers—just two people who love each other.
It was so much easier when it was just Diana, Darien, and his smile for her.

Her thoughts drifted to the second adornment—the necklace of emerald leaves that once belonged to Darien’s mother.

Darien loves me; so much so that he practically asked me to marry him tonight.
Regardless if Diana knew the necklace to be a betrothal gift or not, giving such a precious item to her meant there would never be another person in Darien’s life as dear to him as her. Even if he couldn’t grow old with Diana for the next 800 years, he would never marry another. His soul was hers and hers alone.

As Diana found herself moving closer to him, the river of thoughts began to evaporate. Inquisitors, Melkafir, even Edea—it all faded away once Diana approached Darien. All that mattered now was the two of them, in that moment.

Reaching her hand out from the safety of the warm blanket, Diana gently placed it on Darien’s shoulder. The touch of her hand startled him and he quickly stood up, turning around to face her. He wanted to say something, but it didn’t matter.

“I love you,” Diana declared, interrupting Darien before his words could be spoken.

In a rare moment he appeared speechless, gazing not at her nakedness, but deeply into her eyes. She felt the joy and relief flood over him at the sound of the words he’d longed to hear. She felt the weight of two terribly lonely centuries dissolve into nothing as his warm smile was given to her.

Diana reached up, taking Darien’s face into her hands, and pulled his mouth down onto hers as the blanket fell from her shoulders and onto the floor. She no longer needed its warmth; the cold that had frozen Diana to her core had been replaced by a heat that burned hotter than any fire she had ever felt in the past.

Darien brought his hands up, caressing the soft skin of her thighs and behind, before making his way slowly up the length of her back. His sensual touch sent hot shivers all through her body, beginning in her lower regions and coursing through her extremities. When he reached the base of Diana’s neck, Darien took her in his strong arms and pulled their bodies together in a tender embrace. As she felt every inch of their nakedness colliding, each section of her skin seemed at home touching his.

Diana was rapidly losing herself to a mystery that felt as if it were written before time began. She wanted nothing more than to be consumed by the moment. No thoughts, no preconceived notions of what to do—nothing existed save their love.

Darien abruptly pulled away. 

Diana’s heart ached with profound displeasure as the indescribable moment was shattered.

From the pained look on his face, it had been a feat of insurmountable self-will. The torment in his eyes was troubling, but Diana’s burning heart was too consumed with the moment to register any feelings of sorrow or trepidation. He seemed incredibly conflicted; perhaps he doubted Diana’s commitment to what was about to occur.

“It’s alright,” she said with a warm smile of assurance. “I love you—I want this. I gladly bind my soul to yours; it will only strengthen our love into the next world.”

Diana’s declaration didn’t have quite the effect on Darien’s apprehension as she’d expected.

Though he seemed genuinely comforted, he was still unsure of himself.

“It isn’t—” he began, but Diana brought her hand to gently cover his mouth. She gazed intently into those eyes of polished gray stone, knowing exactly what she wanted.

“Make love to me,” she pleaded, her own eyes begging the man she loved to oblige the wish that was making her ache.

The caution that had filled Darien’s eyes quickly fled, replaced with what could only be described as a hunger to comply with Diana’s request.

In less than a moment, his lips were again pressed firmly against hers, their mouths opening and probing. The elven lord scooped Diana up in his strong arms and gently carried her across the room, placing her softly down onto the bed. Not once did he let their lips be parted.

The fire inside Diana—that had waned with Darien’s abrupt protests—returned, burning ever stronger, as it guided her along the path she was about to take. Diana had long been ignorant when it came to romantic affection, and the thought of making love for the first time had always filled her with a fair amount of anxiety. Now, at the threshold and ready to leap, she felt no fear. On the contrary, all that filled Diana was the intoxicating, euphoric, fire within her soul—her mystic guide that longed to be one with the fire burning inside of Darien.

The fire urged Diana onward, telling her to move with the natural rhythm of Darien’s body, as if dancing a mysterious waltz that every pair of lovers has known since the dawn of time. There was nothing she needed to know apart from the instinctual guidance of her soul’s flame. When the fire burned hotter, her breathing quickened—as did the rhythm of the dance.

When the intensity of the smoldering pleasure began reaching its pinnacle, Diana felt as if the fire was trying to escape from its dwelling within the core of her heart. With instinct telling her to grasp onto it, Diana lifted her body upwards while gently urging Darien back from over top of her. With quick, fluid, motions, she entwined her legs around his middle as he brought her to his chest, enveloping her in his strong embrace. The fire had not longed to escape from its dwelling within, but rather, desired to be in this place—it was this moment that it had waited for since time began.

At the climax of the mysterious dance, the darkness of Diana’s world shattered in a burst of fire and light as burning euphoria washed over her, filling every fiber of her being. The two flames had finally become one, blazing together as one dreadfully intense inferno, both terrifying and wondrously beautiful.

In that blissfully perfect moment, Diana and Darien’s souls were united.

Diana felt more alive than ever before. The preternatural sense of satisfaction brought with it a profound meaning—for the first time, she felt complete.

Never wanting the indescribable moment to end, the fires of their oneness continued to burn long into the morning.

—

Diana’s gaze remained on the hearth as the still glowing embers from the night’s fire began to fade, their energy spent with the coming of the dawn’s light.

It’s finally time to get up.
As long as Diana had waited for morning to arrive, now that it was here, she couldn’t bring herself to leave Darien’s arms. She’d remained in their warm embrace long after he’d drifted to sleep. The comfort they brought, and the memories of the evening, had been more than enough to keep Diana at peace through the night as she lay in bed, unable to fall asleep.

Even now, long after the experience had ended, she could still feel a part of Darien’s soulfire burning along with hers. She had no doubt that a piece of her own soul burned deep within him as he slept beside her.

The rumble in her stomach was more than enough motivation to finally get up. Food was the current treasure in need of seeking out.
Didn’t I see a sign downstairs that said something about a Full English Breakfast?
Before they partook of a morning meal, however, Diana needed to freshen up. 

As she moved from out of his arms, Darien stirred from his slumber and took her hand in his.

“First light, already?” he asked groggily, looking through squinted eyes.

“Indeed it is,” Diana replied with a kiss to his sleepy forehead. “And I’m starving. I’m going to take a shower while you wake yourself up. Then it’s down to breakfast.”

“How can you be so ready to give orders this early in the morning?” Darien asked, his eyes fighting to stay open.

Diana shrugged. “It just comes natural, I guess.”

“Well, my natural state in the morning is asleep,” Darien replied with a wide smile as he closed his eyes and eased himself back into the blankets. “I’ll be awake by the time you’ve finished getting ready.”

“Uh huh,” Diana said sardonically and proceeded into the bathroom to take a shower.

As she let the steaming water wash away the grime of the previous evening, Diana couldn’t help but find it strange that she’d never realized Darien wasn’t a morning person. He’d always seemed so alert and put together when they’d spent the early hours of the day together. It was odd to think that she could love someone so deeply, and yet, not know the simplest things about them, such as how they wake up in the morning. What else did she not know about the man who was now, quite literally, her soulmate? It didn’t matter, really; Diana had a lifetime to find out more.

When Diana was thoroughly clean, with a towel wrapped around her middle and another around her wet hair, she returned to the bedroom to find a white-robed Darien standing in front of the window with his hands clasped behind his back, staring off into the distance.

“Are you alright?” she asked, a bit worried. Considering the entirety of the previous evening, Darien would have a lot on his mind. Even so, Diana couldn’t feel any intense feelings of anxiety coming from him.

He let his hands go and turned around. His warm smile let Diana know he was fine.

“Yes, sorry. I was just meditating on our present circumstance.”

“Come to any profound realizations?” she asked, not really knowing what to make of his “meditations.”

“I believe so, but we can discuss it over breakfast.” Analyzing Diana’s bath-toweled state,

Darien seemed strangely troubled. It only took Diana a moment to realize the problem as well.

“We have no clothes,” she said, sounding defeated. Their luggage remained deep within the ruins of Qir’Aflonas, and going back now would be suicide. Their only available clothing—very conspicuous elven formal wear—was still a damp mess spread over the radiator. Even dry, the clothes would not be suited for affairs in human realms.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Darien said with a smile and a nod of assurance. “Wait here.”

He slipped the beguile ring back onto his finger, letting the magic give him his human appearance, and then tightened his robe before heading off to figure out a solution to their clothing problems.

While she waited, Diana inspected their clothes to see if she’d ruined her gown. Luckily it didn’t appear too damaged. The plunge into an underground river had left it unscathed, and somehow, the snow had washed away most of the mud that had caked on it while she climbed out of the well.

With pained longing, Diana thought about her trunk of exquisite dresses lying in her apartments back in Qir’Aflonas. She loved every one of them; would she ever get them back? They had become her second skin over the course of their journey. Diana felt like she’d just left a part of herself behind that she’d never get back.
Even if I never get by dresses back, I’m never wearing pants again if I can help it.

When Darien finally returned, he had medium-sized, handled, leather trunk, the color of rich mahogany, in his hand. As he laid it on the bed, Diana noticed it looked considerably old—possibly several decades.

“What’s that?”

“Clothes,” Darien replied with a smile. “I told Mr. Cartwright about our present dilemma and he showed me to an old storage closet where his father used to keep belongings left behind by guests. The only suitable clothing I could find was in this old trunk.”

Unhooking the metal latches, Darien opened the trunk to reveal the contents. Diana quickly stepped out from behind him and started rummaging through them. She wrinkled her nose at the musty smell of the clothes, and couldn’t help but think she’d have to deal with a headache once she put them on.

“Well, at least it’s better than wearing bathrobes,” Diana said with a smirk.

Once they both pieced together suitable ensembles, Diana was more than ready to finally eat. She’d settled on a tan woolen skirt, which fell to her calves, and a loose fitting white blouse that she tucked into it. For shoes, she wore a pair of cream-colored, conservative, heels, with three thin buckled straps.

Diana definitely felt like her grandmother in these clothes.  Having woven her damp hair into a quick messy bun, she couldn’t help but feel she’d finally completed her metamorphosis into a librarian.

Darien’s outfit consisted of light brown slacks, a blue dress shirt, and a dark brown suit jacket—made complete with brown dress shoes. Not quite as dashing as his elven formals, but he still looked rather handsome.

Breakfast was served in a quaint dining room just down the hall from the bar area. The “Full English Breakfast” consisted of two eggs over easy, sausage links, large pieces of bacon—that looked more like ham—baked beans, a couple slices of roasted tomato, and some peculiar black cake-patty that smelled a bit of onion. It looked like heaven to Diana’s starving tummy and she immediately dug into the food—in the most dignified manner she could muster.

When she finally took a moment to glance at Darien, he was happily sipping his tea with an amused smirk on his face.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he said with sarcasm.

“Sorry,” Diana apologized. “I haven’t eaten a lot the last few days.” She noticed Darien had only eaten a few pieces of toast and a few bites of egg white. “You’re not hungry?”