Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Aedon grabbed a couple of cookies, then headed to his chair which stood before the hearth in Connemara. He had not been sure that he approved of the Nemira’s choice in spots for the house this time. It seemed so far and remote that at times he felt cut off from humanity. But all around him was familiar. His books, mementos and his easy chair all surrounded him still, so the days that followed saw a sense of contentment settle over him.
The day had seemed a longer one than most. After returning from Trinsic where he had not only witnessed the questioning of the prisoner, but had ridden with those present to a cave where a battle took place, his body ached more than usual. He still had a deep feeling of sadness having witnessed the passing of one of the talking bears.
Being Dree, his connection to nature about him heightened his empathy for all creatures who shared the planet with him. The last words of this bear haunted him – “Save the others.”
He regretted not being able to see the night through, but had no doubt that John, and those who still followed him that night, would see this task safely through.
Settling back into his chair, his cup resting in both hands, Aedon closed his eyes a moment. He did not move nor stir suddenly at the sound of soft rustling and the patter of feet behind him. Without opening his eyes or turning to look towards the one who had entered he said.
“You were out late this evening love.”
“Yes, but t’would seem that you were as well.”
Chuckling a bit, Aedon replied; “You are not going to lecture me again, are you?”
Laughing lightly, the woman moved to stand just behind his chair. Breathing deeply, he savored the scent of vanilla and lavender which seemed to grow with each sway of her body. Placing a light, and yet strong hand on his shoulder, she continued speaking. Her accent was as music to his ears, sending his mind reeling with thoughts he had long sought to keep buried.
“What dost trouble thy mind this night, my lord?”
“Much, and yet nothing.” Aedon replied.
He did not need to see her face to know that she was once again giving him that look of amusement and nonbelief he had come to know so well. Many times, he had intentionally kept things vague just to see this look on her freckled face.
“Thou takest too much on thine shoulders, Aedon,” she admonished. “If much longer you hold thy path, I fear ‘twill be thy undoing. Now, what troubles thy mind this night, and for many that I hath watched over yous?”
Reaching up to lay his hand on hers, Aedon breathed deeply and then slowly replied.
“I am lonely, my love. With many around me, and even in a roof filled with others, I feel alone.”
“And, what be the cause that eats at thy soul?”
“I miss you, I want and need to be at your side.”
“Thou art always with me beloved. You know this well.”
“This I know; but in truth, time has worn on me. I find it harder to live my life in dreams when I long to walk hand in hand with you, to share in the raising of our child.”
Sighing softly, she spoke again. “Kylee is grown now, and young men buzz about her as though she were a flower and they were bees. The raising hath already be done.”
Opening his eyes, Aedon stared into the fire as he took a deep sip from his cup. This was a thought that he had always feared, and hearing it voiced in this way brought a tear to his eyes. Setting the cup aside, he watched the flames dance across the logs, and within the fire caught glimpses of days long past and never lived out. His life had never been his own to live, and her words served to remind him of the cost that he had paid over and over. How many times had Figol interfered, and brought him from one scenario to another, in search of….. what?
“You are right;” he said, “…life has passed me by, and robbed me of my time with you and Kylee. And, now, as I have more control over my destiny, I find that all I wish for is more time at homes as things were after the birth of our daughter.”
Rubbing his shoulders softly, the woman stepped back from the chair. Aedon still made no move to turn and look at her. He knew all too well what that would cost him.
“So, now what do I do?” he asked.
“Thou must live thy life Aedon.”
“Without you?”
“Thou will’st never be without me love.”
“Jan, will I see you again?”
Smiling softly as she made her way towards the door of Connemara, the woman watched as Aedon sat, eyes closed. He did not stir as the cup slipped from his hands and fell to the floor. Opening the door, she stepped across the threshold. And just before closing the door silently behind her whispered.
“In thy dreams Beloved.”
The day had seemed a longer one than most. After returning from Trinsic where he had not only witnessed the questioning of the prisoner, but had ridden with those present to a cave where a battle took place, his body ached more than usual. He still had a deep feeling of sadness having witnessed the passing of one of the talking bears.
Being Dree, his connection to nature about him heightened his empathy for all creatures who shared the planet with him. The last words of this bear haunted him – “Save the others.”
He regretted not being able to see the night through, but had no doubt that John, and those who still followed him that night, would see this task safely through.
Settling back into his chair, his cup resting in both hands, Aedon closed his eyes a moment. He did not move nor stir suddenly at the sound of soft rustling and the patter of feet behind him. Without opening his eyes or turning to look towards the one who had entered he said.
“You were out late this evening love.”
“Yes, but t’would seem that you were as well.”
Chuckling a bit, Aedon replied; “You are not going to lecture me again, are you?”
Laughing lightly, the woman moved to stand just behind his chair. Breathing deeply, he savored the scent of vanilla and lavender which seemed to grow with each sway of her body. Placing a light, and yet strong hand on his shoulder, she continued speaking. Her accent was as music to his ears, sending his mind reeling with thoughts he had long sought to keep buried.
“What dost trouble thy mind this night, my lord?”
“Much, and yet nothing.” Aedon replied.
He did not need to see her face to know that she was once again giving him that look of amusement and nonbelief he had come to know so well. Many times, he had intentionally kept things vague just to see this look on her freckled face.
“Thou takest too much on thine shoulders, Aedon,” she admonished. “If much longer you hold thy path, I fear ‘twill be thy undoing. Now, what troubles thy mind this night, and for many that I hath watched over yous?”
Reaching up to lay his hand on hers, Aedon breathed deeply and then slowly replied.
“I am lonely, my love. With many around me, and even in a roof filled with others, I feel alone.”
“And, what be the cause that eats at thy soul?”
“I miss you, I want and need to be at your side.”
“Thou art always with me beloved. You know this well.”
“This I know; but in truth, time has worn on me. I find it harder to live my life in dreams when I long to walk hand in hand with you, to share in the raising of our child.”
Sighing softly, she spoke again. “Kylee is grown now, and young men buzz about her as though she were a flower and they were bees. The raising hath already be done.”
Opening his eyes, Aedon stared into the fire as he took a deep sip from his cup. This was a thought that he had always feared, and hearing it voiced in this way brought a tear to his eyes. Setting the cup aside, he watched the flames dance across the logs, and within the fire caught glimpses of days long past and never lived out. His life had never been his own to live, and her words served to remind him of the cost that he had paid over and over. How many times had Figol interfered, and brought him from one scenario to another, in search of….. what?
“You are right;” he said, “…life has passed me by, and robbed me of my time with you and Kylee. And, now, as I have more control over my destiny, I find that all I wish for is more time at homes as things were after the birth of our daughter.”
Rubbing his shoulders softly, the woman stepped back from the chair. Aedon still made no move to turn and look at her. He knew all too well what that would cost him.
“So, now what do I do?” he asked.
“Thou must live thy life Aedon.”
“Without you?”
“Thou will’st never be without me love.”
“Jan, will I see you again?”
Smiling softly as she made her way towards the door of Connemara, the woman watched as Aedon sat, eyes closed. He did not stir as the cup slipped from his hands and fell to the floor. Opening the door, she stepped across the threshold. And just before closing the door silently behind her whispered.
“In thy dreams Beloved.”