~o0o~
"You can't leave me here alone!" Elthrinn exclaimed as Rehan finished positioning the sweep of Elthrinn's hair just where she wanted it on her shoulder.
"Hush," Rehan tutted. "This is the only time that you'll have to do this. Just walk to Gorren. He's in front of the high table. Try not to trip."
That was easier said than done. They were standing in the reception room, from which led the corridor to the great hall. They were to one side of the doorway so that they could not be seen by the assembled crowd. Rehan was preparing to take her place in the great hall, leaving Elthrinn to make her entrance all on her own.
As Rehan had her back to the doorway, and was absorbed in arranging Elthrinn just so, it was Elthrinn that saw Jorm, Delban, and Ornef first, but Rehan must have heard their heavy steps.
"What are you boys doing here?" Rehan asked.
"We're the official escort for the bride," Jorm answered, and then made a deep bow to Elthrinn. "You look beautiful."
"Thank you," Elthrinn stuttered, "But I didn't think..."
Delban interrupted her. "Just because you don't have any family of your own here doesn't mean you're on your own. We're standing in for your brother."
"Did Gorren put you up to this?" Rehan demanded with a fond smile.
"He might have mentioned that it was likely that our little Elf would be nervous," Jorm shrugged.
Ever since Elthrinn had let slip the nickname that Fyntor and Hish had bestowed on her, Gorren's friends had taken to using it. Gorren always called her by her given name.
"I leave you in safe hands, then." Rehan smiled, and evidently having decided that she needn't fuss over Elthrinn anymore, disappeared through the doorway, and down the corridor.
"You really do look beautiful," Delban said, and bent to kiss Elthrinn's cheek. Elthrinn felt herself flush red at the compliment. All three men started to laugh as Delban straightened, and Elthrinn was sure that her embarrassment was the source of their humour, until Delban shook his head.
"Gorren's angry with me for taking liberties," he chuckled.
Gorren had explained to her about the sense of pack, but Elthrinn had never seen it displayed so explicitly before. She had thought it existed only in terms of battle. She flushed again when she realised the other implications this new knowledge brought with it.
"Don't worry, little Elf," Jorm murmured as he took Elthrinn's arm, and wrapped it over his own. "You're not a wolf, remember. Your secrets are safe."
"Not if Gorren's involved," she muttered.
She began the walk to her wedding ceremony to the sound of male laughter, and the lilting melodies of the lute players.
~o0o~
The actual official part of the day, the part where she and Gorren had stood side by side before General Lorch, and had listened to the General intoning words - most of which sounded as though they were in an entirely foreign language - had been shorter than Elthrinn would have believed. There were some words that they had to recite to each other, promises to remain faithful and true, and to hold the moon in their hearts, but almost before she'd realised it, Gorren was taking her hand, and escorting her to their seats for the feast.
As the guests of honour, they were seated in the centre of the table, at the head of the whole room. That meant that King Dorll was sitting on Elthrinn's left, and that Rehan was on Gorren's right. The king seemed determined to eat his whole meal in silence. Elthrinn counted her blessings that at least she was not sitting next to Noridan. The crowd that packed the room from wall to wall were evidently ravenously hungry. She tried to at least pick at the food on her plate, before Rehan could decide to lean over and spoon feed her. She found it impossible to make conversation with Gorren; she was too conscious of being the focus of attention, and too nervous.
Elthrinn was still trying to comprehend the expression that had filled Gorren's face when she'd first appeared in the great hall. When Elthrinn had first stepped out into the brightly lit space, she'd wanted to run for the doors... until she'd caught sight of Gorren. Her husband-to-be had been standing with the General. They had been whispering together, until Elthrinn had entered the room, and then Gorren had done little more than stare at her like she was a mermaid who'd swapped her tail for legs.
If the bodice of her dress hadn't already stolen her breath, the sight of Gorren standing proud and tall, wearing his officer's uniform, would have. He looked so stately, so handsome. There was no particular item of clothing that was radically different, he was dressed in the same kind of garments he wore almost every day, but the ivory linen trews and white shirt were spotless, and his black boots were polished to a shine that caught the light from the torches. He was wearing a waistcoat that had appeared at first glance to be solid green, but when Elthrinn had been able to take a closer look, she had found that the design embroidered on it mirrored the fall of leaves and flowers of her dress. His coat was a green so dark it was almost black, and of some fabric that looked so soft that Elthrinn had to dig her nails into her palms to keep from trying to rub his arm. He'd swept his hair away from his face, and she was finding it hard to keep her gaze away from his intense stare.
Elthrinn felt the pressure of Gorren's hand on her knee, muted by the layers of fabric and flora that swathed her lower body. Apparently he was trying to talk to her.
"I'm sorry?" Elthrinn stuttered.
Gorren chuckled. "I said, it's time for us to dance."
"Dance?" Elthrinn tried not squeak. No one had mentioned that she had to dance. Rehan had something about dancing, but not that it was mandatory.
"Yes, dance." Gorren chuckled again, and then stood, and held his hand out to her.
Not wanting to show him up, and knowing that she probably would when he realised how rusty her skills were, Elthrinn placed her trembling hand in Gorren's steady one, and let him help her to stand. He kept one palm on the small of her back as he guided her to the portion of the room that had been cleared for dancing. She'd been so busy trying to eat despite the wall of uncomfortable silence on her left that she hadn't realised that furniture had been moved.
The lutes began to play again. Gorren turned to face her, and his palm increased its insistent pressure until she stepped up close to his body. "Trust me," he whispered as he caught her fingers in his other hand, and took the step that would send them into the whirling routine that she had witnessed occasionally, but never tried. Elthrinn stumbled a time or two, but Gorren was talented, he did not let her fall, or become tangled in the dress that swamped her legs.
When he pulled her even closer, Elthrinn wasn't sure whether he was helping, or hindering her, but after a few steps she realised it was easier to read the changes in his direction. He was so strong and solid, and she could rest her cheek against his chest, and listen to the thump of his heart, and pretend that the world didn't exist. Except that there was a part of him that was considerably more solid than the rest of him, the notion of which was causing her heart to make a bid for freedom by the quickest route possible, straight through her ribs.
The music finished, but Gorren didn't slacken his hold on her; if anything, it tightened, but she felt a new tension thrum through him. When she looked up, Noridan was crossing the dance floor towards them.
Gorren bent his head, and murmured at her ear. "Do you want to dance with my brother?"
Elthrinn shook her head, and whispered, "No."
"Then we better leave quickly."
Knowing that she was blushing the colour of a summer poppy, and knowing that she couldn't do a damn thing about it, Elthrinn let Gorren lead her swiftly from the hall to a chorus of bawdy catcalls, whistles, and applause. There was only one possible destination at the end of their route. Elthrinn tried to keep her thoughts on the coming sunrise, and not on the hours of darkness that would be preceding it.
Chapter Fourteen
Gorren had been hard pressed all through the day to ignore the way that men and women alike stared at Elthrinn. The women had regarded her with varying
degrees of pity, contempt, and jealousy in their eyes. The men had been almost blatantly disrespectful in their frank appreciation of her. None more so than Noridan.
Jorm had been right; Gorren would have some battles to fight. He'd always considered his brother's arrogance to be an unfortunate product of the weight of their father's favour, but it appeared that Noridan truly believed that he was the unquestionable, undefeatable heir to the throne of Dorvek. Noridan would not be marching to Vuthron, and Gorren's stomach soured at the thought that his brother might believe that he had some claim of royal entitlement over Elthrinn.
But now was not the time to be thinking of his brother.
As he'd suspected, dancing with Elthrinn was like trying to cup a tiny bird in his hand, which, if he moved too suddenly, might die of fright. She'd been shaking; it wouldn't have been visible to the assembled guests, but he had been able to feel the fine tremors running through her. He'd been able to feel her heart trying to leap out of her chest, beating so fast that he was amazed she could even stand. He'd pulled her close, needing to let her know that she was safe with him, needing to protect her from the spectacle that everyone would have them be, needing simply to hold her for his own comfort.
The sight of her, as she'd first emerged from the shadows into the light of the hall, had stunned him to speechlessness, cutting him off mid-sentence in his conversation with General Lorch. Elthrinn had looked simply breathtaking; beautiful and regal, more like a queen than anyone in the country save his mother. Her dress was pure fantasy, but the details of it were lost on him. He'd seen her eyes, so wide and scared, like those of a startled deer. He'd seen her hair, dark and shining like a raven's wing, and he'd seen her skin, bright enough to rival the moon. She held him in more of a thrall than the moon ever had.
Jorm had winked as he'd offered Elthrinn's hand to him. Gorren had been undecided as to whether his friend needed to be punched in the mouth, or whether he should be thanked for escorting Elthrinn safely, and easing at least some of her nerves. Gorren was fairly sure that at some point in the future he owed Delban a fist to the gut for that stolen kiss.
But now was not the time to be thinking of Jorm, or Delban, or Ornef.
Gorren could feel the heat emanating from Elthrinn. She was still blushing from the raucous send-off they'd received. Her mortification appeared to fade as they approached their new quarters, but her heart was still beating rapidly. For now, they would be resident in the hall. Gorren already had plans in mind for a home of their own, but he wanted her input and agreement before he moved forward.
In an effort to secure as much privacy as possible, and much to his father's scorn, Gorren had insisted that they occupy one of the smaller suites of rooms on the top floor of the hall. Although most of the rooms were occupied by the resident staff, there was a section that had once been a kind of nursery. Gorren had allowed his mother to oversee the preparation of the rooms, and he hadn't been disappointed with the outcome. Elthrinn still hadn't seen it yet; he'd wanted to keep it as a surprise for this night. In hindsight, given her rising level of anxiety, it might not have been his wisest idea, but it was too late to rectify now.
Gorren kept his palm on the small of Elthrinn's back as they walked. He would have liked to have said that it was to reassure her, but in all honesty, it was more to stop her turning and bolting, or stopping stock still and refusing to move. When they had ascended the many twisting flights of stairs, walked almost the opposite end of the building, and reached the last door on the corridor, Gorren pulled the key from his pocket, and paused.
Elthrinn was silent, staring at the floor.
"Hey." He hooked one finger under her chin and lifted it gently until she raised her eyes to his. She looked so afraid that it made his soul cramp. "Do you trust me?"
Elthrinn swallowed, and nodded.
"Then do not fear me."
Elthrinn nodded again, and Gorren unlocked, and opened the door.
Feeling whimsical, and wanting to break her trance of fear, before Elthrinn could take a step into the room, Gorren reached down, and scooped her into his arms. Even with the vast construction of her dress about her, she still weighed barely more than a rabbit. Elthrinn let out a strangled squeak, but instead of struggling to get free or to be put down, she threw her arms around his neck, and held tight. Gorren thought he might have found his new favourite thing in the world, ever.
He walked into the room, and kicked the door shut behind them.
He had intended to set Elthrinn down as soon as they'd entered the room, but he liked his arms being full of her, and despite her obvious misgivings, she wasn't struggling to get away from him.
"Oh!" Elthrinn exclaimed softly. "Is this to be ours?"
"Yes, our private corner of the hall."
"It's beautiful."
Elthrinn twisted a little then, so Gorren reluctantly set her down. She moved to look out of the window first. Gorren hoped that it wasn't a yearning for freedom that had driven her there. The portal was only small, all the better to keep the room warm, but the vista that it presented was something to behold.
"I can see all the way to the lake."
"Yes." Gorren agreed. He found he didn't want to stop touching Elthrinn now; having maintained his control for so long, he was starved to feel her. He walked up behind her, almost close enough to fit her body against his, but her outfit was in the way. He contented himself with standing to one side, and returning his hand to the small of her back. He wondered if she'd notice if he tugged at the knot that was holding the laces tight.
Elthrinn turned to look up at him, and smiled. He wanted to smile back, but his thoughts were on more serious topics. At his lack of response, her own smile faltered just little, and then she was off, investigating the contents of the room. Gorren couldn't imagine anyone less covetous of worldly possessions, Elthrinn was stalling for time, but he let her investigate the closets, and the new clothes that they contained. He let her open the drawers, and see that her personal belongs had been transferred, and arranged as she'd organised them in her own room. He let her acquaint herself with the layout of the suite, the water closet, and the corner that had been sectioned off to provide a private dining area.
He tried to speak, but had to clear his throat first. "You like it, then?"
Elthrinn nodded excitedly, and then, most likely remembering their purpose for being in the room, dropped her head again
Knowing he was stalking her, and knowing that the only part of the room that she had not yet investigated was the corner by the window that contained their bed, Gorren walked towards her. When he reached her, she refused his gentle urging to lift her chin. Gorren would not force her.
"Elthrinn, if you..."
He was interrupted by the frantic shaking of her head. Her hair flew around her shoulders like leaves on a breeze.
"No. I... It's just..."
Gorren slid his palm along her jaw, over her cheek, and buried his fingers in her hair. This time she responded to the gentle pressure, and raised her head.
"Rinn, I can't... I couldn't hurt you."
Her eyes widened impossibly further. "Only... only my family ever called me that."
Gorren felt his heart plummet. He hadn't even realised that he'd shortened her name to a term of endearment; he'd never done so before. He prepared to have to watch his tongue in the future, until... Elthrinn placed her palms against his chest, and rose up on her toes.
Gorren almost missed her intent, so surprised was he at her courage. Realising that Elthrinn was too short to succeed in her mission without his aid, he bent his head, and let his lips brush over hers. He kept his hand in her hair, which was softer than anything he'd ever felt in his life, and slipped his free arm around her waist. He would have liked to have said that he was being gallant, and supporting her, but he couldn't deny that he only wanted to pull her close to feel her body pressed against his. He was immediately frustrated; there were far too many garments between them.
Gorren trie
d to restrain himself, he tried to keep the kiss as a brief brush of lips, but when Elthrinn mewled a sound of pleasure, he knew he was lost. The best that he could do was refrain from crushing her against him. He had to remember that she was so small and delicate.
Elthrinn mewled again, and gasped. Gorren took the opportunity to run his tongue over her lips, still sweet with the remnants of the wine that she'd drunk. Elthrinn jerked her head back. Gorren fought to suppress a growl.
"I'm sorry, I should...," he faltered, since he wasn't sure what he was apologising for.
Elthrinn was still looking at him, but it wasn't bravery that kept her head up, his hand in her hair kept her from hiding from him. He tried to read what was in her eyes, but his own emotions clouded his vision, and dulled his intuition.
"You've never even been kissed," he whispered with final realisation.
Searching the Darkness (Erythleh Chronicles Book 2) Page 15