by Kris Elaine
“He’s not a beast,” she snapped. “He never hurt anyone. Tuarl wasn’t there when the Giant killed the royal family. Tuarl didn’t burn the fields or hurt the people. He released us from his brother. And you thanked him by attacking him. You are the monsters!” Her eyes swept over Theo, John, her brother, and the man who had been her father. “You are not welcome here. Leave.”
Mayor Granen White nodded, and the four backed away from her. They each disappeared to a different part of the castle, rounding up as many men as they could find before leaving out the front gates. A pile of goods was left by the door to the Great Hall, spoils the attackers were ordered to leave. Cedra remained rooted to one spot, though, eyes still on her lord husband. He was so still. Far too still.
When the castle grew quiet, she took her first tentative step, then another. In a matter of moments, she was beside him, holding him, struggling to roll his massive frame to his back. And he groaned.
Cedra’s heart stopped. His pale face still had some warmth but was cooling under her fingers. Resting her ear to his chest, she could hear the faintest thump of his heart beating, the tiniest intake of breath. He still lived!
She pressed a swift kiss to his lips. “You owe me a debt,” she whispered. “Live and your debt to me will be paid.” She kissed him again before running to the east tower and pounding on the door. “Open up!” she screamed. “They’re gone and Tuarl’s hurt! Master Owen, I need you!”
The door flew open and the surgeon was hurrying down the corridor behind her, kneeling beside Tuarl’s body. Everything was a blur but soon the cut to Tuarl’s side was closed and bandaged and a cool cloth pressed to the lump forming on his head. They carried his limp form to the drawing room they had previously been hiding in. From there, Cedra took over the running of the castle, directing the restoration as she tended to Tuarl’s unconscious form. As she did, words Master Owen said to her ran through her mind.
“A surgeon has the knowledge to heal,” he had told her, “but there is a greater power than even that.”
“What?” She wanted to hope, wanted to believe she wouldn’t be parted from the very man she had been joined to less than a day.
“Love, my lady. When I was a boy, I heard stories about there being magic in love, that it can heal the deepest wounds. I have heard the stories about the history of the Beytills and seen the pain in him. I believe you have healed him once. I know you can do it again.”
In his sick room, Cedra took Tuarl’s hand and squeezed it. “I love you,” she told him. “I don’t know when that happened. I was so scared about being away from everything I knew that I don’t know when I began to notice you watching me, listening to my songs. You never said anything, but I knew you were there. And then you saved me in the woods. I thought I couldn’t stay here, but I really needed to be shown my fear was misplaced. That man showed me that you were never a danger to me. And then you started to do kind things for me, to show me that you cared for me. The flowers, giving me the library, helping me in my reading. I wish others could see what I see, could understand that you are a good man. I love you so much for that goodness.” She paused to kiss the knuckles of his hand. “Don’t leave me. Not now that I’ve only just found you.”
As the sun set on the second day after the attack, Tuarl began to stir. His lids were heavy as he opened them, but the sight before him was worth the struggle. Cedra sat on the chair beside him, leaning over him and smiling.
“You’re awake!” she exclaimed. And then her lips were on his and that was all Tuarl could want.
He recovered quickly, to everyone’s amazement, especially Master Owen’s. In only days, he was off the couch and walking the castle again. In less than a month, he was able to climb the tower steps without collapsing from exhaustion. The first night they finally shared their bed again neither of them could wait until his full strength returned. Though exhausted, he wanted nothing more than to be buried inside her. Against her weak protestations, he pulled her above him, kissed her deeply, pulled her onto his manhood. The way she wantonly rode him was more than he could handle, and he finished far earlier than he would have wanted. Cedra conceived their first child that night.
For the first time in his memory, Tuarl Beytill’s home was one filled with laughter, happiness, and love. And they all lived happily ever after.
The End.
About the Author
Kris Elaine is a southern Arizona native with a tendency to fantasize about being someplace cooler. Though a humble customer service rep by day, at night she can be found wrestling unruly characters into submission or catering to the needs of her four-legged child, Peter. She is online at mountain-pen.tumblr.com.
Other Works by Kris Elaine
A Break from Reading: a First Time BDSM Story
Cramming for Finals
Her Boyfriend’s Bodyguard