"Iâve done it again," Nyrielle said, splashing in the warm water to wash the tears from her eyes. "Iâm leaping at shadows again where there was nothing to fear in the first place."
The wave of relief that washed over her left her knees weak and her face flushed, and if she hadnât been clinging to Ashlynn, she might have slipped beneath the steamy surface of the water as the tension melted from her body.
She was upset at Ashlynn for pushing herself so hard and taking so many risks, but sheâd forgotten that even though her lover had begun to wield powers like her own, there was still a wide gap between them in terms of experience and the ability to use that power effectively. Rather than treating Ashlynn like a young woman still growing into her power, sheâd tried to treat her like a true equal before she was ready for everything that went with that.
Ashlynn had impressed her so much with her progress in High Fen City, navigating the politics of the city in ways that Nyrielle herself had never thought to delve into, that sheâd forgotten how new to all of this Ashlynn still was... and how hard she must have been pushing herself, even in things as âordinaryâ as negotiations with merchants, in order to accomplish as much as she had.
"Promise me that youâll treasure yourself more," Nyrielle said solemnly. "That youâll reach out for help sooner and more often. And, and tell me when the burdens on your shoulders have become too heavy," she added softly.
"You talk of snatching young Ollie away from the life heâs known as though you havenât suffered the same and worse. For all the grace you give him," Nyrielle said, stretching up in the bath to gently kiss Ashlynnâs brow. "Extend some of that same grace to yourself. If not for your own good, then do it for me."
"I will," Ashlynn said, trembling under the brush of Nyrielleâs lips. "For both of us. Now, let me make it up to you," she added, wrapping her arms around the other womanâs lithe frame and relishing in the feeling of Nyrielleâs silky soft skin sliding over her own. "You said that we have the whole day. Savor it with me," she said, leaning in to brush Nyrielleâs lips with her own.
What started as a chaste kiss quickly grew deeper as the vampire responded with enthusiasm, drinking in Ashlynnâs taste as though she were a fine wine. Their tongues darted back and forth, rolling over each other in a constant back and forth of hunger and desire. In the dream they shared, their kiss lacked the sharp edge of Nyrielleâs fangs and the familiar taste of blood and power that mingled with so many of their shared moments.
Instead, each woman drank deeply in the other for physical proof of the words theyâd spoken. Hands sliding from shoulders to hip or fingers getting tangled in each otherâs wet hair while warm, steaming water splashed around them acted as constant reassurances of desire that went far beyond primal lust.
Nyrielleâs heartbeat echoed in Ashlynnâs chest, falling perfectly in tune with her own racing pulse as she used her body to tell Nyrielle that she truly belonged completely to her. At the same time, Ashlynnâs hands clung to her lover, and her legs wrapped around the other womanâs, trapping her lithe figure as if to say, âI belong to you, but you also belong to me.â
Words were completely unnecessary as their gentle back and forth became more and more intense, sending waves of water splashing against the marble edges of the tub as wave after wave of pleasure enveloped their bodies.
Eventually, hot passion gave way to tender care. The scent of warm cedar smoke from the crackling hearth mingled with soft lavender and jasmine soaps as Nyrielle focused all her attention on her wounded lover. In the dream, Ashlynn might not feel the pain her body was feeling, but the strain of it piled up on her mind and soul, creating an ache that couldnât have been more obvious to her midnight eyes if it had been painted on Ashlynnâs skin.
"When you wake, there will be pain," Nyrielle said gently, her hand pausing at the center of Ashlynnâs chest, barely touching her with a soft, soapy cloth. "I wish I could take it from you, but for now, this is the best I can do."
"I know," Ashlynn said. She was dimly aware of her body, sleeping beneath a single fur blanket in the Frost Walkerâs ice fortress. The sensations of her body were distant and far away but already she could tell that Nyrielleâs blood sorcery had reduced her healing time from more than a month to a mere week or two, and she would reduce that time even further once they returned to the Vale of Mists and she could draw on the strength of the forest to complete her recovery.
"When night falls, I thought you would want to join me," Nyrielle said, returning to washing Ashlynnâs body, sliding the soft cloth along her loverâs generous curves and leaving behind the faintest sheen of soap on her smooth, flawless skin. After cautioning her lover about pushing herself far beyond her own limits without finding help, she was reluctant to give her a chance to push herself harder, but she knew her love too well to deny her the opportunity.
"If Iâm wrong, I can send you with Talauia and Zedya to ride through the night and day until you return to the Vale," Nyrielle offered, though her hands stilled as she forced herself to make the offer genuinely. She didnât just want Ashlynn to stay because she thought Ashlynn would want to be present when she held court in judgment over the Frost Walkers. She wanted Ashlynnâs sharp mind and keen insights during the proceeding as well. She wouldnât go so far as to say that she needed Ashlynn to be there, but she wanted her to be there very badly.
"Your friend, the Thistle Witch, was very... insistent about getting you back to the forest as soon as possible," she added with a wry smile. "She seemed almost ready to fight me just to protect you."
"Thank you," Ashlynn said softly, trapping Nyrielleâs hand and bringing it to her lips for a soft kiss. "If we can settle things in one night, then we can leave in the morning. But youâre right," she said, closing her eyes and remembering the glassy look in Haukeâs eyes when he fell to the ground after she cut the ancestral horns away from him with her Severing Knife.
"I canât leave until Iâve had a chance to at least try to bring things together," Ashlynn said as she firmed up her resolve to do what needed to be done. "I canât call that night anything other than a tragedy," she said. "But if we work together tonight, I hope we can grow something beautiful out of the wreckage of the battle."
"Itâs early," Nyrielle said, setting the cloth aside and fetching a softer soap for Ashlynnâs hair. "Do you want to begin anyway? It isnât what we discussed but..."
"But if we donât take this opportunity, then all weâve done is sow meaningless slaughter over a misunderstanding," Ashlynn said. "We always intended for Lothian March to be the first, but if we have to begin in the High Pass, then so be it," she said.
A younger Ashlynn would never have thought of exploiting a tragedy like this to advance her own plans, but Nyrielle had taught her much about being ruthless when you needed to be, and Amahle had taught her even more about how to approach things practically. After all, nature didnât care why a person had died, only that their body returned richness to the soil, fueling new growth in its place.
For some parts of their discussions tonight, âwhyâ would matter more than anything else. But for the final outcome that Ashlynn and Nyrielle hoped to achieve, all that mattered was that the Frost Walkers had been overwhelmed by superior force, and both their Eldritch Lord and their most powerful sorcerer had fallen in battle.
Ashlynn didnât want to be cruel to the people of the High Pass, but one way or another, their lives would never be the same after suffering this defeat.