by Lisa Bain
“I think it’s sweet, Rohan,” she assured him.
Talking like that, alone, wrapped in each other’s arms, his guard was down. She noticed that his face changed. His tone changed. He was confident and relaxed but without any strategy. He was an authentic, less guarded version of himself as opposed to his normal state of being “on,” with constant calculation and adjustments he had to do from the stage. It wasn’t a performance. He was relaxed and he trusted her. It made no sense. Just like her trusting him was totally illogical. He trusted her with who he was.
They talked for hours. She loved learning things about people, what they did, what they found interesting, and how it all worked. He answered all of her questions without hesitation, no matter how silly some of them must have sounded.
At some point they realized they were hungry. Libby got up to make them each a sandwich, leaving Rohan in bed, strumming his guitar.
When she returned, he leaned the guitar against the bed while taking the tray from her hands, setting it on the nightstand while she climbed back in next to him.
“I trusted you today, Libby. When we talked.”
“I know. And I get that you don’t know me well enough to.”
“I still do, you know. Trust you,” he said as he rolled over towards her.
As he gazed at her, something in his eyes changed. He suddenly seemed feral. Like the wolf tattooed on his forearm, the one she loved to run her hands over or kiss. Then the bolt of recognition hit her–the golden eyes. He was the man from her meditation, the one looking for her. What could this mean? This intensity was new. It was intimidating and exciting at the same time. Maybe she’d misjudged this. They weren’t supposed to get serious. Just a fling. Libby had needed him, and she knew he’d needed her. She wasn’t sure why, but it worked out. She’d come a long way. With his help, she finally remembered that the joy was worth the risk of more heartbreak.
She wasn’t afraid of him, but she was starting to fear that they might feel more for each other than was good for either of them. Libby tried to force herself to turn off her thinking brain and just surrender to the intensity. As she felt the familiar magic energy tingle when he ran his fingertips down her back, she made a mental note to ask Awen again if she’d learned anything about the risk of addiction. It sure felt like a drug and she couldn’t get enough. Then, she didn’t care anymore.
Rohan saw everything from the stage. He had a front row seat to the clumsy courting attempts. He witnessed the games. He saw the sad eyes, the drunks, and the silliness. He also saw the joy his music brought, providing an escape from everyday life. Much of what he observed from the stage ended up immortalized in one of his songs. That night, her last night in Belfast, was no different. He’d scanned the crowd until he found the face he didn’t realize he was looking for. He wasn’t sure when she’d slipped in, but once she was there, she was impossible to miss. She wasn’t so different from everyone else, but she had a presence that demanded his attention. Even though she tried to be nondescript, there was no hiding the fact she was, like her lilacs, a force to be reckoned with.
She’s changed, he thought, as he flashed back to their first meeting. Was it just a few weeks ago when he first saw her? He’d seen someone with kind eyes who looked like a fun challenge. She’d bought him a pint when he took his break. They’d chatted, and she had a sense of humor. Something about her laugh made him want to hear it again.
Since that first meeting, each time he saw her out in the audience, she was a little different. A little more confident. Sexier. Tonight, he saw her holding court from her favorite booth in the corner. She was relaxed, and happy. Genuinely happy. She loved the music, and despite the men who tried to get her attention, she only had eyes for him. That smile almost made him forget the lines to a song.
He knew she was leaving. That was all part of the plan: No attachments. But in that moment, when he watched her tilt her head back and laugh deep and true, suddenly her happiness mattered to him. What started as a game had become something he was no longer in control of. He knew he was going to miss her. He realized life was never going to be the same. They could never be together. He knew part of his success meant maintaining a single playboy image, and he knew she was committed to her job and had to leave. She would always be the “what if,” the one he’d unconsciously be looking for in the audience. The one he’d think about every time he sang her favorite song. Damn. This is going to hurt.
Despite having already said their goodbyes, she ended up coming home with him again. One last time. He dreamed about her that night even though he was lying right next to her. He was on stage at their favorite pub. She was sitting there listening to him, smiling. Only in his dream he was playing GiGi, singing to his real-life Gibson Girl and they were alone. It felt perfect.
Rohan woke up reaching for her and knew immediately she wasn’t there. There was still a hint of her lilac perfume on the pillow next to him, but the warmth and light was gone. He rolled over and sighed. He’d known this day was coming. It felt like an eternity ago that he’d looked forward to it. No attachments, no relationships. This lying in bed missing her was not “Brash as Fuck.” “Get your act together, Fitzpatrick,” he admonished himself. He laughed out loud, got up and moseyed into the kitchen for some coffee. He was half asleep and after hitting the button on the machine, he turned around to lean against the counter while the coffee brewed.
That’s when he saw it. The guitar case leaning against the dining table, with a small white card attached.
“What the hell? Tell me she didn’t buy me a present.”
He opened the guitar first. “Oh my God. Can it be?” As he picked it up, he realized that it was his guitar. Not just the make and model, it was his guitar. His Gibson Sunburst. He knew it the minute he held her in his hands, but he did a quick inspection to confirm and saw GiGi, engraved into the neck. How? He’d spent years looking for it before finally giving up. He ran his fingers across the strings as a smile took over his face, coffee forgotten. His mind wandered back to that afternoon, her in his arms, telling her about GiGi. “How the hell did she find her?” he wondered.
He looked over at the card, loathe to put GiGi down after finally being reunited. He held the card in his hand for a few minutes before finally putting the guitar down and opening the heavy white envelope.
R,
Remember me, sometimes, when you play her.
Thanks for everything,
L
He laughed. “Oh, my Darling, remember you? As if I could ever forget you.” He shook his head and returned to GiGi, the beginnings of a song percolating in his brain about what if’s, a girl, and a Gibson guitar.
Libby smiled through the tears as she felt him open the card. Maggie had continued teaching her magic during her break, and she’d left a little magical delivered-read notification on it. She hated to say good-bye to him but knew that they weren’t meant to be together. She could have loved him, hard and far too easily, but he had good things waiting for him, and she would only hold him back from that. Besides, she had a job to do. She sighed, pulled her hoodie up and turned down the deserted alley behind the Duke of York to meet John and go home.
Chapter
Back to Business
After their short interlude out in the real world, John and Libby returned to the Kingdom and the palace. John knew something had happened in Belfast, something more than just getting laid, but Libby wasn’t ready to share, and he didn’t feel like it was the right time to pry. She was different. He wasn’t magic, but he knew people, and he knew her. She was stronger. More confident. Relaxed. And something else. Sexy? Weird to think that about one of his best friends, but it was there. She was putting out a completely different vibe.
Great, he thought. Now when we go out, I’m going to have to get in a fight because some dumb ass is going to make a wrong move. Then he grinned as he remembered their last bar fight, and that it was Libby who caused the most damage, including to herself when she decided to h
ead-butt her way out of a fight, fracturing the maxilla bone in her face in the process. “Sweet Jaysus,” he laughed to himself. “I feel sorry for the poor sap who falls for her. He won’t stand a chance.” He shook his head, feeling strangely proud of his friend and Queen.
He knew how terrified she’d been to open her heart again, but she’d faced that fear anyway. He also knew returning to the palace would present its own challenges. John hoped that their time away was enough to help Libby deal with the memories that were waiting for her at home.
Libby immediately went to Awen to get back to work on her training. In addition to her dream lessons with Maggie, she’d been doing daily energy work, and she’d been trying to work on the sight when she could, but the big focus was her heart growth.
Awen began her usual examination with instructions to “spill the dirt,” and then stopped. “I don’t understand.” She said, incredulous. “You’ve only been gone three weeks.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Quite the opposite. I just don’t understand. Your heart, it’s grown back. It’s weak... like tender pink tissue after a burn, but it’s there. Just how much sex did you have?”
Libby blushed and started laughing. “Well, quite a bit, actually, but he wasn’t a regular Normal. He had magic although he didn’t know it. And he sang to me. A lot.” She paused. “And he drew magic on my skin with his touch. It’s hard to explain.”
“Hmmm. I’ll have to make a note of that for future equations.”
“Really? Is that necessary? I don’t need a written record of that.”
“Theoretical, of course,” Awen chuckled. She was curious, but also optimistic for the first time in almost a year. This could work. This crazy plan could actually work. She silently thanked Maggie who had coached her on how to help Libby.
Libby opened the door to the bedroom she and Dale had shared, the one he’d died in. It had been cleaned since, but she hadn’t stepped foot in it until today. She felt the pain well up in her chest, threatening to overcome her and remembered Maggie’s lessons. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. In a moment she was back in her heart center, surrounded by a cloud of pink. Once she felt centered, she opened her eyes. She saw Dale standing at the window.
“It’s about time,” she said quietly.
Dale turned around to look at her and smiled. “I’ve been here the whole time, Ash, I just wasn’t ready to talk to you yet. I wanted to, but after I screwed it up and almost killed you I couldn’t.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Shortly after I died, I was yelling at you not to take any more sleeping potion. You thought I was encouraging you. That night you died, and the force field almost collapsed. It was my fault.”
“No, it wasn’t,” she said loudly, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Yes, it was. I was forbidden to attempt to communicate with you again until I got permission, but I’ve been here the whole time. I’ve heard you talking to me.”
Libby suddenly flushed with embarrassment. “Wait, you’ve been watching me the whole time?”
Dale laughed. “Yep. I’ve seen it all. But I’ve been a gentleman and respected your privacy. Trust me, I don’t need to see my wife with another man.”
Libby felt sick to her stomach. This was a horrifying thought.
“We have a lot of things to talk about, but that’s not one of them. I need to know why you never told me about Michael. Ash, we weren’t supposed to have any secrets from each other, and you deliberately hid this from me. For years! What gives?”
Libby felt her eyes well up with tears. She took a deep breath and sat on the bed, their bed, hugging a pillow while she talked. “I knew it would hurt you. But mostly it hurt me to think about, let alone talk about. My heart was broken, I loved him the minute I knew he existed, and then he was gone. When the doctor told me I’d never be able to have children, I felt defective. Incomplete. Dale, I was grieving. I wasn’t thinking clearly. You had a right to know, and I should have told you. For that I’m truly sorry. It’s almost funny now. I thought that was the worst pain a person could endure. I was wrong.”
“Oh Ash,” Dale sighed, taking a seat next to her. “This wasn’t our plan at all. We were supposed to grow old together. I wasn’t ready to leave you. It’s not fair.”
“No, it’s not,” she said quietly.
He shook his head. “Ash, you’re going to be okay. I’ll always be here with you, and for you, but this is a path only you can walk. And I don’t want you to walk it alone. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
The Queen clenched her jaw before snapping, “I’m not having this conversation with you right now.”
“Fair enough. But we’re not done talking about this. I love you, Ash. I want the best for you, even if I can’t be the one to give it to you.”
Chapter
Heroes
So if anybody thinks I’m a hero
When they watch me walk right into the flames
I’m just marching to the sound of her heartbeat
Yeah, I’m a soldier but if I’m a soldier
She’s an army.
~Lady Antebellum, “Army”
With Libby firing on all chakras, and back at full fighting strength, her confidence began to return. She still struggled with her fears and the awful sadness, but they no longer controlled her. She trained hard, every day, both in magic and combat, and Fintan sang to her every night.
While sparring with Fynnigan one afternoon, he continued a conversation he’d started a few weeks ago about the engineering of the force field. He was fascinated by it, but it was also a deliberate attempt to distract her during battle. “Libby, I’ve been thinking more on the force field. After you defeat Jasper, you’ll need a way to support the energy required on your own. I know you’re doing it now, but at some point you’ll want to get away from the musicians and wizards.”
He glanced over and saw Fintan frowning at him.
He grinned. “I mean, my God, can you imagine being stuck with O’Toole every day for the rest of your life?”
“Fuck off, Van der Linden,” he heard Fintan mutter. Since Libby called them both by their shortened names, it sometimes got confusing. Was she referring to Finn or Fynn? They both hated sharing her term of endearment, so would only refer to each other by surnames.
Fynnigan laughed and continued. “I’ve been doing some additional research. I think if you permanently anchor the kingdom on a ley line, that will provide enough steady energy that you won’t have to do all the heavy lifting by yourself. It may even be possible to remove your link to the force field altogether. You already drew some power from the ley lines when you anchored outside of Belfast, so we know it’s theoretically possible.”
He didn’t let up on his sparring efforts but could see Libby thinking and pressed harder.
“Permanently anchor it? I don’t know. What a crazy idea.” She thought about it. The ability to move the kingdom wherever it needed to go was one of the best things about it. Any dangers could be avoided, and she could travel easily back and forth whenever it suited her. But life had changed. Maybe anchoring was what was needed now. “Where would you recommend? And how would that work? And how on earth did you even think of this?”
He blushed. “It just came to me one night. We’re already in Ireland, I’d keep it here. The ley lines here are some of the strongest and oldest in the world. Plus, you seem to like it here. I don’t know why though, my country has so much more to offer.”
Libby burst into laughter. “Oh, Fynn. I do love your country very much, but there is no place on this planet that can offer what Ireland does. And the less I know about what comes to you in the night the better. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush before. Good Lord.”
He ignored her, but his cheeks got redder. “As for how it would work, I’ve been talking to Awen about it. I think it’s as simple as creating a sort of graft or tether to the ley line. I’ve got most of the details worked
out, and the science behind it works. It’s different from the heart graft, but basically you are connecting the force field to the ley line which is the life force of the planet, sort of weaving them together. I’m working out the engineering, but it is theoretically possible. Probable, even.”
He left out the details of how he came up with the idea since it involved a lot of whiskey, and a crazy night with Larra. She’d threatened to kill him if he told anyone, and he took that seriously. To be honest, he couldn’t quite remember how it came up in conversation, but the topic did come up and they got into a surprising amount of detail given the circumstances.
Libby realized Fynn was distracted by what she assumed was the engineering of it all and went in on a full attack and finally knocked him on his ass.
She reached down to help him up and quickly found herself on her back, Fynnigan laughing at her expense, much like he’d done when he was a child.
“Never let your guard down, Libby. You taught me that.”
They both lay there, winded, laughing. “Yes, grasshopper, I did. I wouldn’t have if I’d have known you’d use it against me.”
Fynnigan got up and helped Libby to do the same, taking a seat on the low stone wall as they both caught their breath. He knew her physical strength was back by how hard she’d pushed in their sparring session. He also knew her well enough to know that she was still struggling with self-doubt. They’d known each other for more than half his life and he knew her as well as, and in some ways better than, the rest of her team.