Spirits of the Earth

[Continued from Fragments of Time (//http://spiritsoftheearth.net/forum/viewtopic.php?f=209&t=12237).]


The distance had made him sick.  Nearly literally.  Each movement made him want to wretch and every step was like agony.  Ghanon's wounds had healed on the outside, but the ones on the inside made him a puppet on strings.  He'd forgotten almost what it was like to have to live with such a physical body but the months that passed made him feel more and more mortal with every day.  He didn't know how much time the Fallen Prince had given him before sapping everything he had...  Ghanon didn't know if this being drained would kill him completely or simply make him vulnerable...  Either way, he was getting desperate.

It wasn't always bad.  Some days he felt stronger, even if it was only for a short while.  But then when he thought he had some measure of strength returned for good, he'd quickly have it sapped away from him, as if Arcan meant to tease him.  He would try to rest, only to be startled by distant, echoing laughter, with an edge of a growl on it, mocking him at every turn.  Ghanon seethed inwardly and knew that he was running out of time....  Funny, how the very thing he'd taken for granted the most, was the only thing he had to count on.  But like water and sand, it was slipping through his hands at an alarming rate.  

He didn't know if he had months left to live, to survive and as he traveled further northward, heading towards Hyoite, he wondered why Arcan wanted to prolong such unnecessary torture.  He hated the Prince as much as he hated the power that sword gave him.  Ghanon never had much of an interest in demon swords himself, they were tricky and there were more strings attached than they cared to tell you about.  It wasn't unlike what he practiced when he made deals, but to have the tables turned, even for so short a time, was infuriating like he didn't believe.  He hated being anyone's pawn...whether material or ethereal.

He'd made it across the mountains first, with some trouble as he felt himself more bound to gravity than before.  Every day he was more and more mortal, more tangible, more physical than before.  Ghanon had traveled west, taking longer than usual, and made his way to sea, avoiding Connlaothan soldier posts along the way.  When he reached the ocean, he chartered a boat travelling north, sneaking on board when it was most convenient.  It took seven days at sea to get him as far nearest the tundra where Arcan was waiting for him...  It was then that he started to worry.  Did he know that Lana was not with him?  That she was already as far north as Hyoite?  He didn't want to risk thinking about the prospect lest the Fallen Prince somehow be able to read his mind.  Who knew how much power Azaghal had given Arcan...and he didn't want to find out.

The boat was a small fishing vessel and braved the thrashing waters as the seas raged wilder than before.   The currents were strong here and the little boat was at risk of getting caught in the swell of the tides.  It made it far enough until the boat could no longer fair well against the waters ahead of it.  A storm raged on the seventh day, a storm that pelted the rotted wood with rain and when lightning cracked the hull, the ship fell apart.  The sailors drowned and Ghanon swam what way he could toward the nearest cove.  He thought all was lost until he found he was back on the mainland, and promptly made his way toward Hyoite.

The journey had been a long one and he was not surprised that his body was now more susceptible to cold than it previously had been.  He almost feared that he wouldn't make it...but that fear only drove him harder to get there.  It was a fear compounded over and over with trepidations he could not give breath to.  By the time Ghanon saw the village through the pathetic growth of trees, he was half frozen.  He was not dressed for the weather and had stolen furs to keep him warm, wrapped in leathers over his old clothes.  The morning had come and gone and he noticed the snow around him had been disturbed by footprints, many of them.  Was there an arrival of some kind that he'd been unaware of?  Ghanon didn't care; if there were others that had come before him...a lot of others, he was the last of them.

Ghanon made his way through the snow, huddling as the wind began to pick up.  He finally made it into the village...  Though he felt mortal, physically and perhaps even mentally, Ghanon felt Lana's presence here.  She had called his name...he'd heard it, and his mind thought back to the mirror pendant he'd given her after their first meeting.  He paused for a moment and waited, listening...she was still here.  It hurt to move, his muscles were strained and his joints ached where they never had before but he stalked towards the cabin where he felt her presence strongest.  The sunlight was quickly starting to fade now as days were often short in the tundra.

Ghanon pushed the door open, letting in the snow where it trailed and stepped through the door, pulling back the hood of the furs he wore, saying nothing and letting his eyes adjust to the fading light of the room.

For a split second, Lana had thought that by calling his name it might draw him to appear, but quickly enough she recalled the treacherous state she had left him in, and realized that it would be much longer before he arrived, if he ever did.  Perhaps it was evil of her to leave him the way he was, in fact....  This was the first time she had really felt the depth of her guilt, now that she missed him and thought of the reality of what he was suffering through.  She herself was removed from such mortal agony.  Leaving him as he was, somehow in her mind she still saw him as very much immortal, and impenetrable, and so his weakness was distant in her mind, like a dream.  Now, as the hours had worn on, she felt anxious the longer it took for him to arrive.

The excitement of the women had endured throughout the daylight, but as the late afternoon sun grew dreary and less bright, with it left their excitement, and in its place came trepidation.  They, too, were afraid for their lovers.  The men were responsible for bringing home the bulk of the food for their families, but this meant that they had to leave for many months at a time, and there was never any shortage of injuries, and sometimes death, during these journeys.  It wasn't uncommon for a woman to become with child just before her husband leaves, and to find herself a widow just after the baby is born.  The other women knew that Lana had no one of their clan to await, but she was just as quiet and lost in thought as they.  She sat on a rugged stool carved carelessly from a block of wood and sewed a large, grey and black speckled fur blanket.  Her eyes were more downcast than the task required, and the background of the women quietly speaking to one another in their native tongue was soothing to her.  

The light was still fading from the sky, but there was just enough to illuminate the snow and give guidance to the women's hands as they continued the last of their preparations.  Their eyes sought the horizon more often now.  Lana finished her blanket and held it up to inspect her handiwork.  She ran her hand over the material and marveled at how soft the fur was.  It was then that the female voices that he been intermittent and soft spoken became excitable.  One of the younger girls, the smaller of the many pregnant bellies in the tundra, pointed and held her expansive stomach, dancing on her tiny feet.  The other women seemed to waken from their sullen moods and ran forward to join her in peering at the recognizable black figures that grew over the horizon.  Their hearts sped as rapidly as their feet as they all dropped their tasks to greet the men.  Lana stood, pulling her blanket around her shoulders, and felt her own heart swell, her eyes darting from one unfamiliar face to another.  If Ghanon were to arrive at any time, this would be it.  She could imagine him instinctively finding the men, gaining their trust, joining them on their journey at sea, this would've been the perfect way for him to arrive.  His perfect opportunity.

But her heart only continued to swell and to palpitate.  It seemed that as the women calmed with the arrival of the last of the men, some injured but none missing, and as some of them ushered their lovers, sons and fathers toward the camp, and some of them stood in the gentle remaining rays of the light, lips locked in relief and bliss, the more Lana's heart ached with disappointment.  But this, she supposed, was what she deserved.  She turned and made her way past the festivities toward her cabin where she laid herself down beneath her fur blanket and closed her eyes, hoping that sleep might distract her occupied mind.


What eventually awoke her from her light doze was the sound of her heavy cabin door flying open and the wind forcing its way in.  The cold was instantly biting and bits of white snow flake danced about the room.  Lana drew herself up and looked over her shoulder for the cause.  The familiar figure, big and broad, was recognizable even in the rising darkness.  He was far more massive than the other men, yet the way he carried himself in injury was even more unmistakable.  She stood and forgot her greeting, for the closer she came the more evident it was that his condition had only worsened, despite his attempts, the last time she had seen him, to persuade her that he was more alright than he was.  Lana pulled his wet clothing from him, still not a word having passed between them.  She figured he was going to be too weak to fight her from the way his eyes shifted wearily from focused to unfocused.  She pulled his boots from his feet and cast them aside, and in place of the drenched, frozen clothing that had once held to his body was the massive fur blanket.  There was a moment where there was silence and she simply watched him, unsure of what to read from him, before she sensed that there was more than just weariness that he was feeling.

He was felt like a corpse as much as he looked like one.  He was shivering from the cold.  He didn't realize exactly what was happening until it already happened.  He didn't notice her or where he was, but that somehow, by some stroke of chance, he had made it to his intended destination.  And all he could think of was Arcan and that damned sword.  He seemed traumatized for a good long moment, unsure what to say if there was anything to say at all.  All of this for a piece of golden glass....a piece of something that could never truly be put back together again.  He must truly be a madman to go through all this trouble for something broken...  That was the only way he could justify what was happening...without denying it all together.

Ghanon felt something soft and warm go around his shoulders and he found himself in a seated position on the ground.  Where were his clothes?  Oh, they were in a wet, soaked pile on the ground, every article of it.  And it was only then that he realized how cold he really was....  "Gods be damned," he muttered, his teeth chattering...  "Am I not dead yet?  Why prolong my agony?  Just kill me already." He said all this looking at the wall.  "Why....why am I so cold?"

Lana listened to him with partial sympathy, partial wonderment at what he must have been through.  All she knew was that her heart was suddenly at rest in his presence, and this felt right.  The cabin felt like home now that he had returned, despite whatever shape he may be in.  She moved a couple of logs to the fireplace and cast it ablaze with a touch of her fingertip, and she took his arms and lugged him over to an empty area of the floor between the fire and the bed.  Even she could feel the immediate effects of the fire on her body, so she knew he would be feeling the warmth he craved very soon.  She walked over to the other side of the cabin and peered out toward the gathering outside in the snow.  A wave of pleasure filled her at the smell of seared fish.  Lana stepped out and took a plentiful plate of three cooked fish and a handful of cooked roots, as well as a few frozen berries and hurriedly returned to Ghanon.  The others briefly watched her stow away with what she had obtained, and one of the women glanced over at her husband curiously who looked just as interested as she.  Lana placed herself by the fireplace across from Ghanon and set the food between them, having pinched off a flaky piece of cod and began munching on it.  She stared in his direction without expectation, in fact, she thought that perhaps she didn't want to know what to expect from him.  A part of her wanted to slink up to him and nestle in his arms, but she put the thought away from her, knowing it was inappropriate timing.  Although, it was doubtful that she would ever let down her pride enough to be so bold.

"You're cold," she responded, "Because this is the tundra."

Silence within the cabin was contrasted by the overjoyed laughter outside.  Instruments began to sing in harmony with one another ever increasing the happiness of the crowd.  A small rabbit hopped out from under her bed to inspect the new visitor.  It's large ears and thick coat gave away its belonging in a world as bitterly frozen as this, but despite its rugged exterior, it seemed to be entirely comfortable near the two of them.  Lana's little friend sniffed tentatively at Ghanon's thigh, its soft whiskers tickling the hair of his leg.

"Good answer," he said with a nod.  His hair was tousled and a tress went in his face.  It wasn't the answer he would have chosen, but it wasn't untrue either.  They were indeed in the tundra and temperatures were freezing up here.  But his mind wandered only to the sudden, baffling weakness of his body, how the cold suddenly affected him so when it never had before.  He never thought he could be afraid of death, not even when he died.  Yet he was quickly coming to realize the irresponsibility of his assumptions.  He could question all he wanted, beg for death to come quickly and swiftly, but he refused to give any sort of satisfaction to that Prince.

"You're proving to be an interesting little chess piece, Ghanon," a vicarious voice whispered in his ear.  "You've come a lot farther than expected...  Perhaps I'll pity you for the moment and allow you some notion of strength.  After all, what you will deliver to me...  And you WILL deliver...will be more than worth your while."  A fire smoldered slowly in Ghanon's gut, and he slowly began to feel renewed again, stronger.

If he'd looked in a mirror, there was a gradual renewal of color to his face, to his body, and he didn't feel so cold anymore.  The room was starting to feel very warm in fact, and he found strength enough to slip the blanket from his shoulders, and wrap it around his waist instead.    He reached for a fish and carefully tore into the cooked carcass, mindful of the spines and little bones.   He ate quickly, voraciously even, but it was enough to sate him for the moment.  Looking at her with a curious gleam in his eye.  "I'm glad to see you're doing well," he said softly.  "You left me in a rather compromising position, you know this, yes?  It wasn't easy getting off that mountain...or getting here...  I almost didn't think I'd see you again..."   His tone had a faint bit of venom too it, but it wasn't wholly unsympathetic or unglad to see her again.  An idle hand stroked the rabbit that sniffed his leg, a touch that made the curious animal twitch before bounding off again under the bed and staring at him with beady little eyes.

"You don't look too happy to see me," he said with a fair chuckle.

The returning color to Ghanon's face was notable to Lana, being hyper sensitive to those things that mortals might think they had only imagined.  Being privy to the inner workings of the spiritual and magical world she was able to see that something was going on in his body, even further, into his very being, and the way he looked at her was less than reassuring.  His words were even less assuring and more accusatory than pitiful.  And the way he ate his meal wasn't with gratitude but with force.  

"I'm glad to see you're doing well." He had uttered with an eerie glint in his eye.

Lana knew he referred not to her actual well being, but the anger he inwardly held for her independence in leaving him to his own devices.

Lana found herself bristle at this, and a disgusted crinkle of her nose and brow were microscopically noticeable, however she fully felt it.  It was then that she turned from him to stare into the beady little eyes of the winter rabbit that had come in for warmth.  The small creature watched her with equal gravity until Lana extended her hand delicately toward it on the floor, and it in turn extended its snout.  After a moment of hesitation it slinked toward her, ears perked forward and aware for any oncoming danger.  She smiled, running her fingertips behind the creature's downy soft neck and ears.  It hopped to her side and she held it close, stroking the more sturdy layer of fur around its body.  It calmed her, and she quickly forgot her indignant reaction.

A smile continued to grace her lips, and in response to his insecurity over her reaction to his arrival, she replied, "Then you must still require more time in my presence to know me.  I am more than happy to see you."  Breath escaped her as if she had been holding it in eagerness to tell him so.

She smirked, "You –wouldn't- have made it here alive if it weren't for me.  I called you here.  I made certain you were protected.  The world around me is my servant, Ghanon, and it looks after that which is precious to me."

The small rabbit was an example of this, a new friend she had made who ordinarily would never venture into a cabin, or near a populace of animals far larger than itself, however did so to seek her with the uncanny knowledge that it would be safe.

She smoothed a long, thick and impossibly perfect lock of golden hair over her shoulder.  In a way, she felt apathetic toward his journey.  She knew he had suffered a great deal, an extraordinarily great deal, and her heart had hurt during the months while knowing that he was somewhere where she was not there to comfort him, to do the very thing she was made to do, to nurture and protect.  However, she also knew that they were greater beings than those around them, and this was why she had so easily left without conscience.  She had great faith in his resilience.  She would not have such affection for him if he didn't have this overwhelming aroma of power.  To be dangerous, you must be impenetrable.  And he was incredibly dangerous.

"I knew you would be alright.  Not only because I knew the elements would watch after you, but because you are not easily overcome by pain and tribulation.  I would have never known you, were that the case.  You would have been an old fable passed down for generations, just like those deceased before you.  But you live yet."

Her eyes were violet, but unlike before, tinged at the outside by a black ring that faded and returned at the center of her eyes.  

"Ghanon." She breathed, feeling that she had sounded desperate saying his name, "I was here, brooding because the men had returned and you were not with them.  I missed you."

Maybe he couldn't control his tone from being sarcastic, mocking even, but he truly did mean what he said.  And he saw the bite in her expression, which was relieved when she touched that little pet rabbit that found solace in her company.  He did not think she would take it negatively, and maybe he'd subconsciously wanted her to feel some responsibility for having left him in that ragged condition he was in.  But he was a survivor and he refused to believe she had any influence in that, if not for goal of getting those jewels out of her back.  He believed he made it here solely of his own free will, whether she controlled the elements to ensure that he wasn't killed...yet.  It made him bitter at the thought of it, a thought that quickly passed through his mind and out the other way.

But he grinned, genuinely amused at her own semi-egotistical comment.  "You goddesses," he jested.  "Everything bends to your will doesn't it."  He laughed a little on his own accord.  He felt better, why not take advantage of it a little with some light teasing.  "You say you're happy.  You say you missed me. Maybe I believe you.  But if so...then why are you so far away from me?"

It didn't matter if he believed her.  She laughed a little to herself at his comment, and perhaps he was right in a way.  Goddesses had a history of narcissism, but it was difficult to find any blame in it, as they were often so deserving.  However, in this case, Lana figured Ghanon's pride played into it, and she could have easily made a comment in reference to the Gods being as narcissistic, if not more so.  But it wasn't important.  What was important was that in his jesting was a hidden recognition of her power, or at the very least, a part of him that wondered at the possibility of her role in his survival.  If nothing else, he knew she cared.

A darkness swept over her gaze at his last teasing inquiry.  She was eating on a frozen berry which just began to thaw by the fire.  She savored its sour flavor and sighed, leaning on one of her hands.

"You came in looking like death.  And I don't remember an invite."  

Lana smirked, pressing another berry to her lips and rolling it along her bottom lip.

Ghanon chuckled again and tilted his head back, leaning against the cabin wall.  He gave her a sly smirk of his own.  "I don't recall ever requiring an invite," he said and he looked her at her with candle eyes, that flickered in flaming silver like the flames of the fire in the hearth.  "I saw that look in your eye...if you want to come beside me, then do so.  You don't need permission."

Lana reddened a little, but was relieved to have the tension between them ebbed.  Although, it was strange to her how quickly he seemed recovered.  She was, however, glad to see him return to a somewhat more familiar self.

Lana nuzzled her little friend and stood with the tiny creature in arm, and allowed him to nestle himself on the bed where it was warm.  She took her seat beside Ghanon, his skin seeming to radiate heat now, so contrary to minutes ago.  Gently, she rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around herself.

"It's a wonder you didn't disturb the suspicions of the inhabitants."

Ghanon adjusted the blanket that was around him.  He was well recovered, if only for a moment.  The blanket went up by his shoulders again before she sat down beside him.  Ghanon sat up more and moved his arm over her head, inviting her into the warmth of the blanket where his bare body now exuded it where it didn't before.  He moved her head to his chest and held her, stroking her forearm with idle fingers.  He buried his face in her hair, smelling the scent there, taking in what he could.  He wanted to kiss her then, but did not, considering it might be too fast, too quick for she only just now sat beside him.

So he just listened to her talk and smiled against her forehead.  "Hahaha.  And just what do you mean by that?  Am I so out of place, I'll cause up a ruckus just by stepping foot in his place?" he murmured against her head.

Lana felt a chill travel up her spine as his fingertips tickled her skin, with goose bumps to follow.  Her own fingertips traveled up his abdomen to his chest where her head rested.  His skin was golden in the firelight with a light moisture gleaming on the surface, likely from the remaining wetness of his clothing melting away by the fire.  

"Hmmm....  A small, independent community comprised almost entirely of females, whose men have just arrived after over half of a year apart from them, and you happen to arrive, unknown to them, belonging to no female..."

She smiled upward at him, "You're lucky I have learned to speak their language."

Shivers of his own made his skin quiver where her fingers graced his stomach.  He felt a twist in his gut, a pleasant one and his stomach flipped around at the thought of her touch again.  He shadowed between listening to her words and listening to her hands.  A hum of a chuckle leaked out of him.

"They didn't know that...  But I do seem to have a lot of luck," he grinned faintly before leaning his face down towards her, lips grazing her cheek and pecking slightly there.  "I missed you so, Lana.  And...I'm glad to know that you missed me..."  He kissed her cheek again, his hand ghosting up to her shoulder, fingering the strap of her shirt.

How could she not miss him?  He was all she knew now...  

Lana felt her body respond to his touches, his feather light kisses.  Her hand raised to his where he fondled the fabric of her shirt, a thin shirt in spite of the heavy winter they seemed to eternally exist in there.  Her hand guided his downward to loosen the strap away from her skin, a cumbersome thing to her then.  

"Only a little." She whispered against his lips with a sly expression.

Her other hand cupped his cheek in her palm.  He was always different from one moment to the next.  This was a stark contrast to the intensity he portrayed in the cave, a moment that had shown her that even she was not exempt from his demonstrations of brutality.  In response to the memory, she squeezed his hand lightly.  The air around them filled her lungs, though she let it out with an unsteady sigh.  They were afforded plenty of privacy, yet an uncanny feeling of being watched bothered her.  It swiftly went away, but it was unlike her to feel so uneasy, vulnerable to a presence entirely contrived of her mind.

Ghanon knew it then.  He knew it and he hated himself for taking her this far, but he knew that he cared about her more than he said so.  He couldn't say if he loved her, for love was such a precarious thing and he'd forgotten the meaning of the word so long ago.  All he knew was what he felt and she was suddenly in a position of importance to him and he needed her now more than he ever thought he would.

His hand pulled the strap down gently over her arm and adjusted himself to slip off the other one.  He leaned into her touch where she cupped his face and smirked, a flicker of a smile.  He grazed her lips with his own and paused for a moment when he felt her go uneasy, the way she breathed, and not because of the way he touched her.  Inwardly, he grimaced and he placed his mouth by her ear, whispering, "Being coy, huh?" in an attempt to relax her nerves.

But he closed his eyes and let his breath splay across her neck before pressing his lips there for a moment.  He felt her pulse, listened to it and let his mind reach out to hers, slowly, reaching out to the parts that were being watched by foreign eyes.  She would feel a warmth in her mind, a hazy high that was more protective than invasive.  With his renewed strength, Ghanon waited a moment before shutting out the eyes, the ears of the Prince that listened so far away, shut them out let Lana rest, to enjoy this moment.

When Ghanon felt the presence was gone, he receded his mind from hers and kissed her neck again.  His hands reached down and felt underneath the cloth of her shirt along her sides.  "I missed your touch.  I didn't think I would...but I do."

Lana visibly shivered now, though his hands were comforting and warm, her mind was elsewhere, occupied, but yet... emptied.   The thoughts in her mind were suddenly a mess, though they blended together like a perfectly swirling canvas, and as if drugged, she accepted them...  No longer invasive, no longer disturbed.  Her mind became as fluid as his breath against her neck, her throbbing heart slowing to the rhythm of his.  She mimicked him, pressing her mouth to his shoulder and letting her tongue taste the salty surface.  He smelled of the world, tasted of it, and his body, fleshly and still divine, was as an extension of her own.  She pressed into him to gain the comfort of his warmth, and her mind seemed to be released from its momentary state of detachment.  

His words were so sweet, so child like, that she pressed her fingers into his hair to soak in some of the preciousness of the moment.  

"And I want to touch you.  It's addicting."

Ghanon was taking his time before, but the pounding of her heart echoing through him, made him need her more. Ghanon let his arms wrap around her and hold her closer; his mouth sought hers and he kissed her softly at first before gradually deepening it, pressing his mouth closer to hers.  He pulled away for a moment and pushed her shirt over her head and tossed to the side.

He was fever forged, wanting to dive into the ocean that was Lana.  "Kiss me," he breathed against her lips, asking instead of taking.

He asked, but her body gave her no choice but to obey.  Their mouths met again in tender union, her need to taste all of him resulting in her kiss being more ravenous than the last.  Her hands firmly felt the curvature of his chest and shoulders, traveling down the length of his arms and to his hands, guiding him to her hips.  It was simply too unfortunate that their bodies were so tangible, cumbersome.  She moved to straddle him, to be closer, pressing him gently against the wall as she continued to explore the depths of his mouth.  

"Ghanon..." she moaned, wanting to say it, but unable to overcome the obstacle of uncertainty, and so she lifted only his name to the air.  Perhaps that said it all.

They could touch, could immerse themselves in one another as much as a body would allow, but she wanted, needed to fulfill this desire to connect with him deeply.  There was a plain of existence that transcended the physical, and she had to try to bridge the distance their fleshly forms created between them.  Her hands were rested at his sides.  They shared one another's warmth, but soon something almost electrical danced along their nerve endings, a fiery communion transcending the gap.  She pressed her chest into his and drank in the energy emanating from him in a fulfillment almost too pleasurable to take in.

He loved the way she said his name, murmured in deep in her throat like that, and he whispered words to her, words that he was in no state to comprehend.  Ghanon only needed her, wanted her like he never needed or wanted anyone else in his short life.  There was a solace inside of him, a need for peace amidst the chaos of his existence that seemed to be fulfilled even if it was only for this moment.  After being apart so long, he kissed her hungrily and deeply, returning her explorations.

He was getting breathless and his hands ghosted down her sides, feeling for the laces of her pants and squeezing between her legs for a moment before finding them and tugging them loose.  "Lana, I need you," he breathed against her lips.  There was another phrase at the tip of his tongue, that threatened to slip loose, but he swallowed the word just in time, and simply pressed his mouth to the explore the hollows of her neck and chest.

He was euphoric and driven, hazed and hazardous, but he didn't want to hurt her, only to feel and be one with her for however long it lasted.  He only hoped it lasted an eternity.

Her own breath was caught in her throat, a slight, pleasurable hyperventilation that left her just on the edge of bliss.  Every word he spoke brought her waves of painful pleasure, the way he handled her, the liberties he knew he could take.  Her hand explored those areas of him that responded well to her caresses.  She moaned against his lips and teased him with the softness of her body.  

"Then have me." She sighed, biting lightly at the pectoral muscle just below his collar bone, "Please, have me."

That was all he needed and he leaned her back, both of them wrapped in the softness of that fur blanket that trapped in the heat of their bodies.   He leaned over her and slipped off her trousers.  He hovered over her for just a moment before he locked with her and breathed heavily as his heart wanted to jump out of his chest.  His head swirled and swarmed in a haze, but it was a haze that made him hold her tighter to him, linger his lips over hers before taking her mouth.  He was gentle, but didn't hold back, and let himself get caught up in the way she made him shiver, hitch his breath, say her name in whispered moans, lose his mind all over again.

Lana allowed him to take the reigns.  He read her body so well, so artfully well, making her react in ways, on so many levels, that she never knew she could.  She took one of his hands and slid it beneath her back, just over the dark crystal above her tailbone.  Relief swam over her in the moment of their interlocking.  She had wanted him, always wanted him, for so long.  She savored each little sound he made, each revving her own moans in return against his ear.  Intimate.  Appetizing.  Feverishly suffocating.  Rhythmic.  Comforting.  Lana let herself succumb to his decisions, wanting only to know that she pleased him.  At times it seemed that she might not survive how painfully wonderful he was, he was indescribably intense.  In a moment of rapture she held to him, her face buried in his hair.  And then, an unsettling anxiety slowly crept from her chest into her throat and her abdomen, and she thought she heard the echo of an indistinguishable voice.  It made her feel suddenly shy, as if others were watching them in their most intimate moments, exploiting the privacy of their closed quarters.  She almost felt embarrassed, something she had never often been accustomed to.  She said his name again, this time with a tone of awareness.

"Ghanon..."

Ghanon was absorbed completely in her, body, mind and soul.  He felt an energy surge through him, almost severing himself from that siphon of power called Azaghal.  Ghanon felt freer now than he could remember being so since the moment he was cast into the void.  He knew all things would come together, one moment to the next and things would fall into place in the way they should, in regards to the courses take, the decisions made.  He could not always account for his own decisions, some things could not always be easily justified or explained.  But he never acted without reason, never in what seemed like the randomness of existence.  What reason did he have to lie with Lana other than that he cared for her?  There was still much confusion in that aspect.  But perhaps he didn't have to know right away, and for now that was enough.

Ghanon heard his name and his attention became alerted when he recognized the tone by which she spoke it.  He paused mid-stroke and listened, having though he heard it too, but it disappeared before he could know.  "What...what's wrong?" he said softly.  "What did you hear?"  He looked around the room, eyes searching for something, for a sign of the Fallen Prince...

In Ghanon's arms she felt safe, and so she wrapped her own around his neck, pressing her cheek to his as her eyes stared wildly at the shadows against the cabin walls.  

"Someone... I heard someone." She clenched one of her small hands behind his neck, "I felt someone."

How had Ghanon known that she had heard something?  The only logical reason would be that he had heard it, too.  

"Didn't you hear that?  That voice...  I feel as if we're being peered at."

He paused, and listened, but the voice had ceased.  "I did," he muttered, feeling a growing anxiety that Arcan might be so near to them.  But he waited a long moment, listening, looking around, where he might see eyes peering back at them.

"But it's gone now it seems...  You're not frightened are you?" he smirked a little but it was a half-honest grin.  "You don't have to be if you are.  You're safe as long as you're with me."  Still, his ears strained, but he disguised it well, and pressed his cheek against hers.

Go away, Arcan.  I've got the girl...can't you at least give us this moment...  Hell knows there might not be much left of her when you're done, Ghanon thought fiercely, knowing, feeling that he might still be listening.  He didn't liking having to say that, the thought of there being nothing left of her, it sent a cold stone down into his guts and he held onto her tighter than before.

The voice didn't answer him, only silence remained.

How could he be certain it was gone?  He himself wasn't even sure what it was, or why it occurred.  Why wasn't he more alarmed?

Lana kept her cheek pressed firmly against his, eyes carefully scanning the cabin.

"Your sentiments are wholly felt, but you should be more concerned than this."  She now shifted herself to look at him, "An unknown voice enters our chambers and you are so quick to dismiss it."

She looked at him hard, feeling their chests expand and depress with their matched breathing.  

"Why are you so confident?"

Ghanon was alarmed, but he didn't want her to know that he as.  He looked away for a moment to the ground and paused.  Even as he tried to spare her, she was too smart for that.  She wised up and quickly.

When he found it himself to look at her without illusion or an attempt to distract her.  "It's not that I'm confident.  But I know who that voice was.  It was Arcan again.  But I know deviant bastards like him.  They like to mock to taunt.  And because he's wounded me, he knows I'm at his mercy.

"He spoke because he wants to frighten me.  You too.  But I won't let that happen.  I'll get him to return my power one way or another."

"What good would it do to frighten me?"  She seemed concerned now, her hand cradling his neck, "And why go through all of this trouble?  He's wounded you severely.  What more could he want?  To destroy you?"

It wasn't that she fretted so much as that she didn't understand.  She herself had had enemies before.  Innumerable forces had taken their stab at demolishing her.  Yet, all had a purpose, a goal, and Ghanon seemed to lack an explanation for what was now obviously an incredibly serious conflict.

"You have nothing, Ghanon, that he could want... Save for the satisfaction of obliterating you."

"He knows we've been traveling together...and he knows...that I'm relying on you a great deal for my very survival.  To sever me from something that would ultimately restore me," he said solemnly.

Ghanon loosened his grip on her, if she wanted to walk away then, he'd let her go if he had to.  "I told you before, that he wants my power.  To absorb the powers of a god, would surely make him unstoppable.  He is a threat to more than just me, Lana.  But to you as well.  If he knows what kind of power you possess, you'd be in danger too.

"Arcan is a siphon, continuous consumption until there is nothing left.  I don't want to see yourself drained of what you possess.  I don't want to see you end up stuck like me."

Lana ran her fingers through his pale blonde hair, her lips pursed from her pondering.  She stared at him for a long moment, trying to gain some sense of understanding, but there was something about Ghanon that she couldn't place, something unfamiliar that she had not seen in him before.  

Perhaps it was fear.

She lifted her face to his and pressed her lips against his, the smell of his skin filling her senses.

"He will disappear." She breathed, "Like all of the rest who have ever tried to take you over, like all of those who have attempted to weaken me."

She took his cheek into her palm and sweetly smiled, "The difference in this is that we have known each other now, and I will protect you faithfully."

She paused to run her hands over his glistening chest, then unexpectedly pressed him into her with a small cry of pleasure, "Now, you must demonstrate to him how really powerful you are...."

A smirk played upon her mouth.

If she could see through to his thoughts, she would see the globs of perspiration that were coming down from his mind.  She was close with the words she'd chose, close enough that he nearly spewed the words of his ultimate truth.  But he knew how to weave language, play upon it, and told as much as he could without technically lying.  But he was a liar and he had to be for the sake of his own survival, and for the survival of his mission.  He didn't think of it before, playing Lana like a pawn, but now he knew that suddenly it wasn't playing anymore, and he certainly didn't like having to use her like this.  But it was the only way...and maybe, she might when it was all over...she might find it in her to forgive him....

He was lost in thought and the throbbing of his guilt only doubled over when she kissed him softly for a brief moment.  He words brought a chill down his spine, but it didn't stop his heart from speeding up again.  Was it just because of her body?  Or was it because there was so much more at stake here?  He couldn't tell and he didn't want to think about it.

He smiled at her, glad that she let it go for the moment and his grin widened.  He answered only with the deepened pressure of his mouth on hers and thrusted again, intending to finish what they started together.  Moaning her name, breathing it like it was the very essence of his existence.  The only reason to be.

She trembled beneath him, fully craving the breadth of his prowess.  She let him handle her as he would like, even hoping that he might grasp her just a little too tightly, or plunge into her with unexpected force.  She felt destructive, but at the same time delicate, always turning from one feeling to the next.  But it was when she realized that he could no longer satiate her appetite that she pushed him on to his back and took over the motion herself.  She sprang to life and leaned forward to make love to his neck with her mouth, all the while drifting away into a sea of overwhelming ecstasy.  This time, she wanted the knowledge that she was in control, and that his satisfaction would be her doing, and only hers.

He always worked to ensure his lovers were satisfied, even beyond that if need be.  He needed Lana to do more than trust him, to give herself to him in a way that might transcend all logical thought.  He might've thought he was doing what was necessary, only to be suddenly thrown on his back and taken over, conquered like a land in rebellion.  He might have fought her for control, but he gasp in pleasure and breathed hard to the dance their bodies made.  "Lana!" he moaned loudly, his nails dug into the flesh of her hips and he felt like he couldn't breathe.  "Oh Lana," he let out with a shudder, and his voice cracked in another moan.  He never knew this side of her, and apart of him wanted to fight her for power, but he only let out another cry when he tried to overthrow her.

She held fast to him with a tightness that ensured her dominance.  He was set against the speckled fur of the blanket, a beautiful contrast of dark against his complexion.  She marveled at having such a generous view of his physique, and it made her even more ravenous.  Every movement was a fluid response to his body, a sixth sense guiding her rhythm to compliment his own.  She knew by his reactions how to push him to his limits, and every second was a learning experience to compound the next.  There was a burning desire in her, incapable of being thwarted, to push him over the edge without his permission.  Her own hands gripped his in return where they clung to her hips, her ample bosom heaving with the effort.  She had to show him, had to know she had control...

He continued to fight her, but every movement she made, made him groan, low in his throat, and he felt his resistance grow weaker and weaker, until he didn't know how much longer he could hold on.  He moaned loudly, finally letting her do as she pleased with him and only rose his hips enough to drown in the waves of divine rapture.  She was divine and for once in his existence, could find no place to mock her because of it.  It drove him insane, and his nails dug into her flesh as if that would hold him to some sense of sanity as he felt himself slipping over a cliff.  He cried her name hoarsely, his breath ragged, body drenched with sweat and throat dry.  But he held on just a little longer, as long as he could.  He had to, for the sake of himself.  Nobody broke him, nobody...

He was stubborn, and she smiled knowingly down at him.  It really wasn't necessary for him to try to prove his endurance.  She found it more attractive to see that he was so effected by her.  Lana leaned down, allowing her breasts to rest on his chest, and took his bottom lip between her teeth gently.  She laughed a little, kissing him softly and speaking against his lips,  "Let go, Ghanon.  If I stopped now, you'd be so frustrated.  I want to know how much your body likes me."

He tried to hold on...tried and couldn't, his fingers slipped on that cliff's edge.  He plunged down, and yelled out hoarsely, his body quivering and shuddering as he finally let go.  He threw his arms back, letting her go and he lay there, tired, spent.  His labored for breath, heart just about ready to pop through his chest and he turned his head weakly to look at her.  "What the hell's gotten into you?" he asked, a sly grin on his face.  "You're crazy, woman.  Crazy...but so incredible..."

Lana felt her face grow hot and she suddenly appeared withdrawn and coy, though her body was flushed with feelings of contentment,
her heart fluttering in response to her small triumph.  She blushed and leaned forward to cuddle into him, their bodies
remaining joined, and rested her chin on her arms.  Her hair fell in curly q's over her arms and shoulders.

"What can I say....  You bring out the best and worst in me.  I won't apologize for taking what was mine, anyhow."

She winked and walked her fingers up his chin to his mouth where they played with the outline of his lips.

She broke him, fine, fine.  He could accept that.  It hadn't been done before.  Or it had and the memory had been misplaced.  Ghanon just wanted to be content with this moment, for though he was tired with an aching groin, they were good aches and he wrapped his arms around her.  Afterward, propped himself up on his elbows, crunching his physique, and leaned back, letting her lay on him.

"You know, I like this darker side of you," he commented with a sly smile.  "And I will never ask for an apology...  I kinda liked it.  Well, not kinda.  I really liked it.  And you know I'm always yours for the taking."  He chuckled and grinned.  But it was a grin that slowly faded away as his thoughts drifted back to what he had to do.

The time was drawing near and he wanted to savor every second of this for as long as he could.  He was torn in a way he'd never been before.  Between what he wanted more...what he needed more.  The shard or Lana.  He'd worked so hard, come this far.  And though guilt never had much stock in his mind, he felt heavy with the weight of what he knew he had to do bearing down on him.  But he had to, he just had to!  He only hoped she could understand, that she could forgive him for what he had to do.  But perhaps even that was asking too much.

Ghanon pecked her fingertips where they lingered on his lips, and he stretched his neck up to kiss her on the lips.  "Lana..." he began slowly, "Do you love me?"

The question was entirely unexpected, entirely out of character for him.  She held her expression, despite her surprise, but was careful to consider her response.  Her fingertips ran slowly through a section of his soft hair as she gazed at him gently.

Love him?

It felt right, the word rolling off of his tongue, the feelings that stirred inside of her at the prospect of such a thing.  She had loved before, but having known love only once, and for such a short period of time, and now, grieving the absence of one who had held her heart captive, she couldn't fathom if she even knew what it was anymore.  Perhaps love was different for each new lover, but it wasn't familiar to her.  It wasn't that she didn't suspect the existence of it between herself and Ghanon, but she was just too afraid to touch it.

A part of her ached with the knowledge that she couldn't give him an answer, in spite of her desire race toward the conclusion they both wanted to hear.

"I... I don't know, Ghanon.  I..." her eyes became lost and she closed her mouth to keep her emotions from overflowing, "I know I... want to."

She swallowed the lump forming at the back of her throat and met his eyes, "I know I couldn't imagine moving forward without you..."

She could say everything else except to answer the question with that one heavy word.

He nodded with how she answered him.  He expected as much, and he knew he could only voice the same words to her, the only sense he could make out of all the chaos that swarmed inside of him like a ship caught in a whirlpool at sea, crashing and smashing on the rocks of the storm of his thoughts that brought about carnage in him that threatened to crush him to death.  Ghanon wanted only to be with her for as long as he could while he could.

"I know, Lana.  But that is enough for me.  For now," he murmured to her.  He sat up now and tied her in the protective embrace of his arms and he held her there like she was the very thing keeping him on his plane of existence.  It didn't matter how many powers were taken away so long as she was safe and away from that which hunted him...and would inevitably hunt her.  He felt along her back, feeling the jewels that were embedded there.

"I don't know how long I'll stay," he said.  "But remember that necklace I gave you.  It's a part of me, a gift to you.  These crystals....they are a part of you aren't they?  Would you ever be willing to give one as a gift to me?"

His request was slightly heart warming, but also odd.  Perhaps he didn't understand how her crystals worked given that she had never taken the time to explain them.

She gave him an understanding look and tilted her head slightly to gaze at him, "I would, if it were as easy as that.  The crystals are as much an extension of myself as a tail, or a wing.  They're biological as well as magical."

She reached back to touch the dark crystal that throbbed now, which often it did, as any implant that didn't agree with its host might do from time to time.  There was even a tinge of dark pink in the skin outlining the edge of the crystal, a constant irritation.

"However, the white crystals are my own.  They are interconnected, and without even one, I would be stripped of my own natural powers.  I would not have the healthy connection with the earth that I do.  Only... I would be left with the dark magic, and though I could wield it, I'm afraid the consequences would be quite changing and grave...  It acts of its own accord.  A force separate from the others, and it pains me even to think of it.  It's almost as if it knows I want to summon it..."

Her crystals began to glow, "And if I were stripped of the dark crystal, that would be very damaging indeed."

Ghanon nodded and his fingers drifted down her back fingering each crystal leading all the way down to the base of her spine.  He did not touch the last one however and just let his fingers glaze over it, feeling it's energy, but not daring to lay a finger on it lest it bring her pain.  He sighed wistfully, and waited for her to finish speaking.

"So it would be difficult to remove one then?  Just the others, not your dark crystal...  Would...removing one hurt you?  Kill you?"  His face looked visibly pained, worried even and he shifted uncomfortably at the thought of it.

All Arcan wanted was one stone, one crystal to sate his desire.  But a burning notion in the back of his mind told him that the Fallen Prince would want more, as much as he could get and the mangled body, bloody and torn open flashed before his vision, and horrified him in a way he never thought the sight would.  He'd seen mass death before and nothing shocked him anymore, but the thought gave him a fear that didn't just make him afraid but angry.  And he vowed then and there that he would tear Arcan apart with his bare hands.

She easily read his reactions to the thought of her being hurt, because he easily showed them.  But why was he suddenly so interested in the crystals?  He had his answer...  Removing one for the sake of just having one would be an impossible task.

She made an expression of uncertainty, and while she spoke her voice was very light and tender, "It might.  The pain would be unbearable, and to extract from me something that is infused with my very being would be like ripping away an organ.  I was born with nearly all of them, and the one I was not born with was installed in such a horrific way.  I can only imagine that the consequences would be just as horrendous, and I can't say that I know I would survive.  I am immortal, but I am immortal as I am, and I have never had to suffer through losing a part of myself."

She watched him carefully for his response.  Were he to venture further, she would be particularly suspicious.  She tried to imagine what it would be like to have any of her crystals separated from her, and she felt a sudden striking fear.  The idea was so disgusting to her that she made a face without meaning to.

Ghanon turned and stared down toward her chest, suddenly suspicious that his face betrayed his thoughts and perhaps it did when his eyes peered up to look at her again.  She seemed to know what he was thinking and he knew it was best to say nothing more on the subject.  Instead he smiled and nodded in understanding.  "I was just curious," he said, plainly.  "I never asked about them before, I know.  But I've never met a deity that had them.  You're so unique, you know.  A one of a kind."

Ghanon leaned in and pecked her lips.  "So, what have you been up to all this time I've been gone?  Getting in good with the locals?  Did you buy this place yourself with your own money?  I really did mean what I said that I was glad you were doing well.  You're very beautiful right now, you know.  Glowing, even."  He raised his hands and traced the outlines of her lips.  "So what are we going to go do tonight?  Make love all night?  Or do you want to take a walk with me, show me around, any interesting sites to see?"

The rapidity with which he questioned her was so unlike him.  He seemed to turn from the commonplace inquiry as to what she had been doing all this time, to being overly complimentary and suddenly wanting to plan the night out.  If he had gulped he wouldn't have been any more transparent.

And she was not easily persuaded.

"I don't know, Ghanon." She placed her lips around the finger that was so near and bit it  a little, "I'm rather liking this sudden interest in finding out more about me.  Please, ask me more.  I'm an open book."

She smiled and peered at him through knowing eyes.

He wasn't as smooth as he thought he was, but he only grinned when Lana was wising up to him.  She was a smart one she was.  The smart ones were always more pleasing, and she knew that he knew that what he asked was suspicious.  And why shouldn't it be?  He couldn't trust his emotions even if his life depended on it and it very well may.

"Do you?" he chuckled back.  "You were a queen right?  How did you know when you were ready for the position you were given?  Was it more than difficult for you to adjust into it?  And how did you get to be so smart?  Are those inquisitive enough for you?"

"Hmmm, those should suffice, I suppose."

Her eyes remained steady, "I was never given time to ready for my position.  I was born into it.  From birth, my lineage defined my destiny.  As a child I ruled, as an adolescent I ruled, as an adult I ruled.  I never adjusted.  I simply –was- Queen."

She smirked, "And what exactly makes me so smart?"

She thought to herself, Was it the fact that she saw right through him?

And those answers sufficed as they did.

Ghanon nodded and met her eyes fire for silvery fire.  "You're smart because you know me.  And I like that you know me.  Perhaps even better than I know myself.  You see me in a way others don't, an honest way and instead of demonizing me, spurning me, you make me face myself, instead of running from the man I was.  The man I am now.  That's why you're smart."

Lana laughed a little and placed a hand on his chest, feeling the contours of it, cherishing the excitement his skin gave her.

"That doesn't make me smart, Ghanon, that makes me empathetic.  What makes me smart is that I know when you're eluding the truth, although I would have to be rather stupid in the first place not to see through your transparent façade."

She sighed and shrugged, "Oh well.  Whatever it is, Ghanon,  I'm sure you have a good reason for keeping it from me.  I know what you are, your purpose, and I know what I'm getting into with you.  I'm not surprised there are some things you are not yet fully honest about."

She pulled herself closer to him and kissed his neck, and if he was paying attention, he might feel a bit of himself slip away to her with each kiss, "It is good you ask me these questions.  There's much you don't know about me."

She gave him a gentle nip.

"There is so much I'd like to know, but so much it's probably best that I don't.  You know I'm a thief, a buffoon, a fool.  But here's a fool that cares about you and wants to feel your lips close to his.  Though it does bring to light one question.  If you know so much about me, why do you continue to consort with the likes of a murder and a broken man?

"You could be anywhere else, walk with anyone else.  But you continue to stay with me.  What is it about me that is so drawing?"

Lana peered at him, "The easy answer would be, I'm a masochist.  The other answer might be that I'm wiser than that.  The thing is, Ghanon, we spend all of our lives trying to find answers to why things are, why we feel what we feel, what does this mean, why am I the way I am?  What am I meant for?  What kind of person does these things?  The answers we have come up with since our first curiosity have been far from accurate, but now and then, history unveils a deeper understanding that, with time, may be nurtured toward enlightenment.  I think within us there is a small seed of true understanding.  Perhaps I deceive you in describing it that way.  This understanding really isn't an understanding, but an acceptance of the epiphany that nothing takes shape exactly as it did before.  Imagine a world of perceived limitations, which actually is a world made entirely of open doors.  And most of us spend our entire existence leaning against these door frames with no recognition of the open air we're breathing from the outside.  That's where we live, Ghanon.  No two things are exactly alike.  No two men have exactly the same intentions.  One heart may appear precisely the same as another heart, but once unraveled theryare often entirely different."

She hoped she was not being too philosophical for him, and gave him a moment to digest her words.

"You are capable of so much evil.  You have inflicted and suffered through such pain, but Ghanon, your spirit is unique.  I could never see you as only what you represent.  And yet, I also crave you for what you represent.  Maybe others have seen your chaos as frightening, a weapon against them, and I see it as that also.  But Ghanon, I have no ill will for you because of it, in fact, I am impressed by it.  It is a fact of life, something I have accepted and can even covet.  I know that you are more than capable of hurting me."

She paused, stroking his chin, and spoke lightly, "And I am entirely capable of hurting you.  But whatever takes place, though I would hate it, if we ever hurt each other, a part of me would accept it."

Maybe she was right, and Ghanon mulled over it.  Maybe she was wrong.  Ghanon knew the stakes were high on all sides, that the games he played in the lives of dread beings and mere mortals were offtimes no games at all and that one too many times the odds were stacked against him.  Ghanon knew also the opportunities his gifts afforded him and also the limitations were provided.  The words she spoke rang true on many levels and only reminded him further that what he was about to do had to be done, regardless of whatever feelings he might have for her.  He didn't know why he offtimes had to do the things he did.  He knew what he was capable of, and what he wasn't.  And that was enough for now.

Ghanon had nothing to say to that, how could he after she'd proven herself right all this time.  And though it hurt inside to hear to speak the words she did, he just looked at her and with a half-empty gaze.  "But, being who I am, I will hurt you Lana.  It is inevitable.  You shouldn't waste your time with swine.  You're better than me.  You deserve better."

He was a doomed wanderer and knew it was his fate to traverse the universe alone.  The things he had to do, no one else could do but him.  And the words he'd spoken were bitter but true.  He knew nobody was perfect, not even her who he felt so strongly for now more than ever.  But if she could salvage whatever part of her from the taint that he exuded, he wished for her to do so.  But he had no control over the choices she made.  Her fate would always be her own.

What did he want her to do?  Say goodbye?  Her eyes widened a little at his confession, and though it didn't surprise her, it did sting.  It seemed love was a never ending cycle of pain, two sides of a flipped coin.  Perhaps it was destiny that she have no one.  And yet, it was too painful to imagine the days of endless travel, mundane discoveries, without him.  The situation did not bode well  for their future together.  It was obvious that she was in a difficult position.  She could embrace her acceptance of him and prepare her mind for the difficulties to come, or she could leave and never know how deeply they might've loved.  There was no contest between the two choices, though she hesitated in responding to him.  For a moment she cast a downward gaze to the ground, childishly fingering the fur of the blanket around them as if she were deep in rapid thought.

She then looked back up at him solemnly, "I can say truthfully that I would rather live having loved and loved fully, than live having been safe, and yet being alone."

Ghanon could look at her fully now, having said what he did and though it might have hurt, it was true.  It was inevitable, for though many wandered life looking for perfection, never knowing what beauty resided right inside of them, the perfection of life itself, he found a small part of it Lana, though both of them were damaged in some way.  Perhaps they had found that in each other, even if it was fragmented perfection, deluded by the tides of time and the pressures of a universe divided.

Ghanon looked into her eyes and saw the beauty in them, beauty he rarely realized could exist.  The honesty of it might have brought tears to his eyes, but the solemnity of her choice told him that there was no need for that.  And he wrapped his arms around her and laid his head against her bosom, wanting only to be close to her.  Ghanon tilted his head upward to look at her and lingered with his lips close to hers.  "Is that the choice you want to make?  If so, then I will always be your, Lana, to hurt and to hold, however you see fit."

Lana felt her heart flutter in her chest as a feeling of impending doom came over her.  But she tried to wave it away.  They were just caught in the moment, dramatic and brimming with emotion, and it was carrying away her anxieties.  She dismissed the feeling and instead pressed her lips against his and sank into that feeling of complete security.  In this moment, nothing could touch them.  They were entirely safe together, and she trusted him then.  

"I will always hold you, Ghanon."

Ghanon held her tightly to him when she uttered those words and kissed her fully then, leaning into it and holding her as if she were a part of the wind that was about to flutter away no sooner than when his lips met hers.  He worked open her mouth and felt fully then.  After a long moment, he grinned against her and dragged his mouth against her jaw.  "Thank you," he murmured.  "We should get some rest.  We'll have a long day tomorrow.  We'll have a lot of lost time to make up for, and you'll have to show me around, introduce me to your friends."  He looked behind him and noticed the bed was there the whole time.  "Shall we stay on the floor?  Or occupy the coldness of the bed?"

The wind picked up outside and whistled around them.  The faint rustling sounds of their neighbors bringing their feast indoors and herding the children to the warmth of their cabins could be heard along with the wind.  Lana braced herself and pulled away from the blanket to pull herself up to the bed.  She reached out her hands to his and pulled him up with her, the bed being small enough that it resulted in him laying atop her.  She smiled and felt the length of his body with her fingertips.  Yes, he was painfully beautiful and aroused her almost to excess.  But to have him so close, their body heat uniting, their skin pressed together, the weight of him making her feel safe and protected, these sweeter thoughts occupied her mind and she felt her heart swell so that she had to take a deep breath to release the intensity of her feelings.  She pulled the blanket over them and turned so that they would lay closely side by side.  With her arm around his waist and her head tucked beneath his chin, nose pressed into his neck where his aroma filled her senses most, she felt herself grow drunk with warmth and fatigue.

Ghanon let her lead him; she'd conquered him already, and the ache of his tangible body was finally getting the better of him.  The weeks of endless travel finally taking their toll.  Despite his best efforts, he couldn't remember the last time that he'd slept as a mortal man did.  He could remember anything and everything, but he could not recall that.  And it dropped one small ounce of sadness into the well of his heart.

Ghanon lay beside her, absorbed into the feel of her, the blanket trapping their heat inside.  His body still had cold chills and he quivered slightly, though he feigned as a response to the cold draft of the wind.  She fit perfectly in the spot underneath his chin, in a perfect even he would deem impossible.  There was no perfection...  What was he doing here?  What was the purpose of all this?  Ghanon knew the price he paid to gain a piece of what others only deemed to be golden glass; he'd done this all before: thrown himself to the wolves, to the pit of fire.  To do whatever he had to do to achieve his goals.  He'd always been prepared to sacrifice his queen to win the game...  Now, he wasn't so sure he was prepared to do it anymore.  He wished nothing had changed, but he couldn't deny that it did, that Lana was not just a pawn anymore...  Yet, no matter what he felt, he knew what he had to do.  And inside it was tearing him apart.

His arm reached up and moved a tress of her hair behind her ear, moving his head slightly to press his lips warmly to her forehead, lingering there for a good long moment.  He knew then that she could never forgive him, not for what he was going to do.  He writhed in despair at the thought, that he might never see her face again when this was all over, that he might never again hold her in his arms, or see the light in her eyes gleam by a blazing fire.  But time moved on, like it always did.  And they would never be here again.

A part of him wanted to tell her everything in that moment, but he just couldn't break his vow of silence....  This should have been easy, to hold it all inside.  It should have been the easiest thing to do...but it wasn't...  Ghanon's hand just brushed through her hair and he rested his chin on her head once more.  The fire was dying in the furnace and the blanket they'd made love on was growing cold.  Her body was all he needed to keep him warm, so he was not worried in that aspect.  Another chill when through him as he gazed headlong into the darkness of the corner of the cabin.  He saw a thickened shadow appear in it and step slightly forward, only partially lighted by the remaining embers.

The shadow's face, partially lit as well, grinned it's evil grin.  "Tomorrow evening.  You know where I will be waiting," Arcan mouthed, not uttering a sound.  But Ghanon knew what he meant.  He only clenched his jaws as the shadow stepped back and disappeared.  Tomorrow evening....

Ghanon closed his eyes, breathed in the scent of her hair and slept his dreamless sleep.  Tomorrow evening.

Lana's sleep was occupied by the quiet, unnerving images of formless dreams.  Unease settled upon her unlike any sleepless night before.  The content raced in an endless unsettling stream while her body remained trapped by the longer brain waves of her mind.  She did not toss and turn, but her grip on his side grew firmer during the night and her brow deeply creased.  A thin glistening sweat covered her body after several hours, and unknowingly she pushed away the covers.  The moon rose, sank, followed by the sun gently mimicking its pattern.  Before it rose beyond midway, Lana awoke with a start, a panic having seized her.  It appeared as though she hadn't yet awoken Ghanon, and thankfully so.  He had seemed to be overcome with fatigue in a way she had never seen before in him.  Slowly, she slipped away from the bed and walked toward the fluttering embers of the fire which had died long ago.  She crossed her arms in front of her breasts and stood in the darkness which was made lighter by the orange outside light, and allowed her thoughts to reconstruct into some form of sanity.  All night she had been tormented by unnamed threats, feelings of utter dread that had no cause.  There was no understanding what had gone on in her mind during the night.  She glanced over at what was left of the berries they had munched on the evening before, but hunger evaded her, and the thought of eating rather disgusted her.  She walked over to a pale of fresh water and knelt, cupping her hands beneath the liquid and taking several drinks to comfort her dry mouth.

It was a peaceful rest, as if a burden had been lifted from him and Ghanon slept quietly, if uneventfully.  He never dreamed, so he just sank into the emptiness of his own mind, the void.  No glare of stars, no push and pull of contrasting pressures.  Even in his physical state, bound the mortal coil once again, Ghanon remained connected to everything, like he was listening to the heartbeat of the universe with every passing breath.  There was a weightlessness here and he was drifting along, no worries, no pain, no love, no fear, no anger.  Nothing.

That burden that had been lifted however, had drifted along to Lana, fitful in her sleep, tormenting her with the same unrest Ghanon had experienced during his long travel to the tundra village.  And when dawn was rising, Ghanon felt himself slip out of that state of apathy, completely rested, but not fully restored...  That would only come this evening...with hope.

Ghanon fluttered his eyes open and swung his legs over the edge of the bed sitting up and rubbing his eyes.  The bed wasn't wholly comfortable and his back ached in some places, but at least he hadn't slept on the floor.  His clothes had dried by this time, or at least he assumed they were and he reached for his trousers, slipping them on as he saw Lana drinking water.

"Good morning," he said with a shimmer of a smile.  "Goodness...I haven't said that...since...I left my old life...  But it's nice, for once to say it again.  Good morning, Lana.  So...what kind of plans do you have in mind today?  Exactly what sights are there to see around here?  I don't recall ever visiting this place more than once...twice at best."

Ghanon's slow awakening had startled her, but only slightly, and her back remained to him as he spoke.  She took another drink, closing her eyes to gain some semblance of composure and raised the water to her forehead to further wake herself.  The cool water swept over her face and dripped down her neck, a sweet sensation of chilled fingertips tickling her skin.  She stood and still did not face him, but gave away none of her feelings of disturbance.  She hadn't even begun to think of what might occupy their time in the next moment, let alone the morning.  Her body ached for more sleep, her eyes heavy and burning after a night of unrest.  However, the uneasiness was slowly, ever so slowly slipping away, and it wasn't worth occupying their short time together with anything unpleasant.  

Lana put on a smile and turned to face him, running her fingers through her long, tangled hair.

"Unfortunately, it's so cold that there isn't much greenery or life to see, but what little there is would be in a clearing in the nearby forest.  I have gone there for peace and quiet, and found that if you're still enough, it comes to life."

Ghanon chuckled and took a seat on the bed, putting his boots back on, restrapping the buckles and clasps.  Damn...how long had it been since he'd been here like this, dressing himself back up by hand.  The solid way his boots felt in his hands, the leather all too real.  Now instead of being just apart of him, his clothes felt like accessories.  They were no longer apart of his being as they once were, no longer something that changed as much as he did...  They were just clothes now, plain ordinary clothes.

He frowned but slipped on his other boot anyway, a better revelation dawning upon him.  Well, less of a revelation than it was a drawing fear.  Was it too late for him now?  Was he fully mortal now?  He felt his gut grow cold and churn inside itself at the very thought.  He looked distressed for a moment, but he kept his head faced down toward the ground so that Lana could not see his expression.  He sighed it away...  No, no, it wasn't too late.  There was still time.  He was the keeper of time...he had it in excess...  He had all the time he would never need.

After Ghanon finished trying his boots on, fingers find the supple leather far too real, he stood and reached for his tunic and belt, that he put on quickly with a shuffle of cloth and a click of a buckle.  He stepped toward her and put a hand on her shoulder and cupped her face gently.  "That'd be lovely to see.  I can't say I've been connected with life in a long time...  I think you're helping me see the world in a different way."  He ran a stray hand through the softness of her hair and nodded. "...Is...something bothering you, Lana?  You look very tired," he noted, furrowing his brows in concern.

It was strange for her to see him donning his clothing just as it was strange for him, however, he managed it very well, as if not a day had gone by since his mortal life had ceased.  She admired the way he owned his clothing, every bit of cloth perfectly suited to him, his belt fitting him perfectly, his boots worn from travel but sturdy and with many years of use left in them.  It was, however, a little saddening to see that he was beginning to be encumbered by the nuisances of human life that often mortals didn't even pay mind to.  She was glad to see that he was in a light mood none the less and smiled as he cupped her cheek in his palm.

Again, she was resolute that nothing should interrupt their day together.  Everything had gone so well as it was, and memories like these were so rare in life that she wanted desperately to preserve them.  

"I'm not tired.  If I am, I don't notice it.  Maybe because it's so cold."

She knelt down and pulled some crisp, white clothing from a drawer by the stove and dressed herself appropriately for the winter.  Almost everything insulating that she wore was made of fur, in the end making her look something akin to a winter wolf.  She turned and grasped his hand in hers, willing herself to forget the swimming feeling of danger within her, and it was beginning to work.

"It's still a bit dark out, so you'll be able to see the forest awaken with the sun."

If there was one thing Ghanon had nearly forgotten most, had been out of touch with more than the simple heaviness of body that was his own, it was the mortal nature to tire, to feel exhausted beyond recover, to feel yourself deteriorate before your very eyes.  While Ghanon could adjust easily the constant fluctuations of his own ever-changing state, to suddenly be this stagnant, stuck in a form so fragile and weak, this was something he'd been severely unprepared for.

But like any mask he ever wore, he placed on this crude form, this aching weariness that felt pricked and pained where the hardness of the bed had pressed into his side.  If he had been mortal once, he could suffer though it again, no matter the cost.

Ghanon tilted his head and stroked her cheek, knowing full well that she was lying to him.  The cold didn't affect her like this.  In fact it almost seemed a part of her, so for her to blame it on the weather made him know that it was more than what she claimed.  And yet, even without telling him, he had a feeling it had something to do with Arcan.  And his stomach churned once more.

When she dressed up he reached for his coats, the one he always wore and the other, large and heavy with fur, which he threw over his shoulders as well.  He scrunched the thick furred collar up by his neck and ran hands through his disheveled hair.  "You know, Lana, you have a bad habit of messing up my hair," he teased, squeezing her hand.  "Let's get out of here.  Show me what it's like to be alive again."

Ghanon always seemed to say something that she would never forget.  She felt an inspiration fill her.  She wanted to show him the wonders of the earth that most could not see, but that she was accustomed to.  The earth to her was as much a living and growing being as a child, full of wonder and growth spurts, discoveries, evolution.  And it was connected to the world around it as if the sun and the stars and the universe were extended limbs.  An endless cycle of give and take was taking place beneath the half-blind eyes of passers by, and it was her hope that she could help Ghanon see.

The trek through the forest was brisk and full of sharp twigs and hidden thistles, but as they traveled the tiny almost inconceivable sounds of small rodents and little insects awakening for the day could be heard.  Lana hadn't let go of his hand.  Her grip was firm and loving as they pulled themselves through deep snow and narrow spaces between the trees.  Around them very dim rays of light peeked through the sparse branches above.  The forest was indeed beginning to wake, however Lana felt that irritating distance between herself and the life around her.  She looked at Ghanon and squeezed his hand, as if to ask him to stop.  She knelt and unfastened her boots and slipped her toes into the icy flesh of the earth, one foot at a time.  A smile came to her lips and she stood, carrying her boots in one hand, and continued forward with him.  Beside them small blossoms began to open, veiny roots stretched themselves more deeply into the earth, and the ice began to melt away from some of the shivering bark of the trees.  It seemed that the more ground they covered, the more life would come to the forest.

Lana glanced at Ghanon and continued to smile, "I love it when she talks to me."

Ghanon did not know the gravity of Lana's connection to the world or life around her.  He knew only that it was more profound that he might ever understand.  And there were some things in existence that were never meant to be understood, heroes of lore, monsters of legend, secrets locked away to be forever forgotten.  It was the mystery of life that often drew him from one place to another, the mystery that both pulled and repelled, replenished and destroyed, until all was reborn again.  There were no simple answers to the questions that these mysteries yanked along in their wake, ones that likely would never find answers.

He could find nothing to say as they walked except to be absorbed in the sights about them.  As they stalked further into the forest, Ghanon listened to the echo of the surrounding area, listened for its breath, its very heart beat as it thump-thumped, thump-thumped away into blood-rushed pounding in his ears.  "I can hear something," he said, closing his eyes as they walked.  Yes, he remembered now.  Slowly he was recalling how it felt to be alive in the world, awake to what was around you.

He slowly but surely became aware of the invisible fabric that lay over the buzz of what mortals called life, the things that mostly went unnoticed.  "I can't make out anything distinct.  What is she saying?" he asked.

Lana's smile remained, a soft, comprehending smile.  She was quiet for quite some time, soaking in the warmth that somehow still emanated from the shivering land about them.  The trees began to grow thin as they traveled, and the ice seemed to begin to melt the longer they went on.  Soon, they came to a clearing where little bits of grass were poking through the layers of snow.  

Lana's mouth was now in a straight line, and she glanced at him, "She speaks in feelings.  Waves of emotion.  The earth can't speak, but her soul can.  She knows something that we do not.  She knows something you do not."

Lana's eyes met his and she kept his gaze silently for a while, until she spoke again, "When I look at you I feel...I don't know.  I feel..."

She held his hand firmly as her heart sped, and shook her head, "She is very alarmed by you.  You're a disruptive force."

She pressed her lips together in thought, "She wants to cover your eyes and lead you away."

Ghanon felt the calm he once experienced slowly dissipate over him.  There was life there, and as much as its heartbeat drew him, it also repelled him.  Here was a place that needed stagnancy to thrive to survive, and the fluctuations in him told him to relinquish all reliance on it, for he was a creature of change and that was the only way he could possibly exist.

He looked at Lana with a sort of silent, somber despair.  "She is right," he murmured, looking at her squarely in the eyes.  Why was there any reason to postpone this any longer?  It hurt more to know that the morning would fade and when night came and the sands in the hourglass were gone, that she would be torn from her formerself, a part of her yanked from the very things that gave her life.  What good would it do to delay the inevitable?

Ghanon squeezed her hand in his tightly and he looked down, making his face placid.  "Then I will cover my eyes," he said.  "But only if you cover yours, Lana.  There's a place I want to show you well, a little cave where the waters are bluer and purer than the ocean.  I may not have been here in a long time but being here, walking, I think I remember it now.  But it is a few miles from here if you don't mind a walk.  May I show it to you?"

Lana smiled a little and nodded, squeezing his hand, "We have all the time in the world.  I would love to."

Though she felt a kinship with the ice, having utilized it, lived amongst it, and sculpted it into a livable land, she loved to see life where it was most fruitful.  She leaned up and placed a small kiss to his cold cheek, taking in the scent of him.  It was rare that they could relax and enjoy the world as they did now together.

"Lead me." She whispered into his ear.

All the time in the world....all the time in the universe.  That was what he used to think.  Until the recent months drained him of that confidence.  He could have done whatever he wanted, but as the game got more and more dangerous, Ghanon knew he'd have to go through more and more extreme measures.

He dropped his head to look at the ground where they would walk and spoke nothing more until the miles had passed between then and now.  Ghanon was hot under his clothing despite the temperature of the weather.  As he had walked, he gripped her hand snugly and stepped closer, slipping her hand underneath is fur-lined overcoat to wrap around his waist and he put his arm around her shoulders, walking side-by side now as the cave came further into view through the lightly flurry of snow.

He stopped several hundred yards from its entrance and just watched it for a while.  The rock and snow was buried deep into a mountain rockface.  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and he smiled.  "If there was anyone else you could be with right now at this moment," he asked, "would you prefer to be with them over me?  Don't worry.  You may answer honestly.  I won't be offended."

Ghanon's mood seemed sullen, and she had no knowledge of what might have changed it from the eagerness he displayed just an hour ago to this soft-spoken, uncertainty.  In reality, his question was uncharacteristic.  

Lana furrowed her brow, "Why the strange question?  You've been silent this whole way.  What's bothering you?"

She should have known that nothing could be perfect, not even a moment.

The question truly was out of place.  A white dove against a shaded stormcloud that threatened to be struck by lightning at any given moment.  Ghanon's heart was wild with anticipation, trepidation.  He softened his expression and looked back up toward the cave.  He took his time in answering her question.  His skin may as well have been peeling of strip by strip.

"I was just thinking about how short life is.  How short mine was.  Truly, I can never live a normal life.  I do not think I was never made for something as small as that.  But moments like these, though they do not last forever, they help make a life more complete, even one as incomplete as mine.  I only wondered that if you could be with another, would you?  Would it bring a more satisfying wholeness to your existence?  If there was something you could have in this very moment that you've been searching for...perhaps didn't even know you were searching for – would it make any difference at all?"

A part of him wanted to tell her what the cave held for her, to warn her and get her as far away from Arcan as possible.  Even at the cost of his life.  But he knew only a fool would relinquish himself so easily, and he was a fool to believe that he could ever be that noble.  Nature suspected a disruption here.  Indeed her suspicions were not unfounded.  But whether that disruption truly resided in him or out toward the cave remained to be seen...

Lana studied him with angelic innocence, however inwardly her memories rose from the dust and brought visions of a time when grand Kingdoms thrived.  A time not long ago when magic guided destiny, and myths came from the blood and sweat of fantastic wars.  Those myths were created from the experiences of her people, but in the center of it all had been a forbidden romance, the story of which would be told by gods and goddesses for an eternity.  Now, she felt so different, so apart from herself that it seemed these memories were from another life.  To answer his question entirely, she would have to ask herself, would she rather see Slater here before her?  That question she would never be able to answer.  In this life, Slater would not belong, and could not.  Here, she was a different entity with a new purpose.  And Ghanon was a part of her new experiences that were forming, brick by brick, a new self.  In this sense, there wasn't anyone or anything she could want to be different.  Ghanon understood her, even helped her understand herself.  She hoped that she understood him as much as she imagined she did.  Ghanon was an integral part to her existence.  It was no secret that she felt powerfully for him.

"Ghanon, my life is not short.  And so I welcome all wonderful and painful things.  I have time to learn from them all." The back of her fingertips caressed his cheek, "I would never hope for anyone other than you to be here with me.  I would never hope for anything in your place.  There is time and opportunity enough to enjoy all things in life.  I would rather have you while I can."

"Time," Ghanon repeated, staring off toward the cave with infinite eyes.  The silver there flickered with crackles and surges of a green electricity, the very energy that whirled throughout him.  He was as much its embodiment as he was without it.  Time had no place for one such as he, no stagnant space for him.  And though everything changed and moved on at some point, keeping or fleeting with the memory of what once was, Ghanon could never truly be a part of it.  In a way, he envied Lana, and the connection she had with the living world around her.  Her words were comforting in a small part, but they could never really keep him together underneath the trepidation that was tearing him apart.

Ghanon stared back at her and smiled then, a genuine grin because she was wise in her words.  "You're right," he said.  "Time moves on, even for those whom life is not so short.  There's a time for all things, for happiness, anger, joy, sorrow.  Let this be our time then.  But I just want you to know, that there's nowhere else I'd rather be, than right here.  Let's see all there is to see."  Ghanon steeled himself then.  What had to be done, was to be done, with or without his liking.

Ghanon squeezed her hand in his and pressed his lips to the back of it before pressing his forehead against it.  "Shall we?" he asked before continuing toward the cave.  He could feel his heart slow down the closer they got to the entrance, and he could hear the blood roaring like waves crashing against rocks in his ears.