by Joseph Heck
“I take it you have a staff of several dozen lurking about somewhere?”
“Only ten when my father is not here,” Megan answered. “They live on the top floor. When I am here by myself, I let them have most of their time to themselves.”
She led him over to one of the marble topped prep areas and told him to lie down upon it. He winced from a jolt of pain as Megan helped him up onto the counter and then gently eased him onto his back. He turned his head to watch her as she crossed the room, her hips moving with a naturally sensual rhythm as she walked. She disappeared into what Zak assumed was a storage room. When she returned to him, she gently pulled his t-shirt up to his shoulders and carefully removed the bandages from his side. He caught himself smiling as he watched the concentrated concern on her face as she tended his wound. He was growing accustomed to the excessively radical facade of her make-up and wardrobe, and suddenly realized that he couldn’t imagine her any other way.
He cut off the direction his thought processes were taking before they could go any further. She was Elf. End of story. But when she looked up at him and their eyes met, he felt something more than simple lust for her. Something that he refused to name.
“You don’t need to do this, you know,” he said, shrugging off the emotion.
Megan ignored his comment as she continued to work on his side.
One of the medics on scene at the warehouse had told Zak he had suffered from a mild concussion just as Megan had suspected. The pounding in his skull seemed to confirm it, but he did his best to ignore it. The pain from his side was considerably more intrusive, indicating that the medication the medics had given him was beginning to wear off. In spite of his determination not to show weakness in front of her, he found it difficult not to wince as Megan probed the wound.
“This needs to be stitched shut in order to heal properly,” she said as she inspected his wound. “I will put some Aelhara on it first. It is an Elvish herb. It will numb the area as well as disinfect it.”
She worked with care and efficiency. When she was done with his side, she rubbed the herbal mix onto his bruised shoulder and redressed his head wound as well. Within a short time his wounds were cleaned, medicated and bandaged.
“You should heal quickly,” Megan said. “The medicine I used has exceptional healing properties.” A look of realization came over her. “I am sorry. Perhaps, I should have asked first. You may not have wanted Elvish treatments, but when you refused to go with the medics...”
“It’s fine, thanks.”
Relief softened the weariness of her expression. Her hand lingering upon his bare shoulder made him suddenly uncomfortable and he raised himself up into a sitting position on the counter, his blood soaked t-shirt still folded up under his arms. At the same instant Megan seemed to become self-conscious of her touch and pulled her hand away.
“Thanks,” he said again, watching her embarrassment with curiosity. Up until this point, nothing about her had given him any indication that she was shy about anything. The flecks of gold in her eyes brought out the emerald green all the more. He could easily become lost within their depths... He felt suddenly awkward again and looked away.
“You need to get some rest,” Megan said. “I will show you to one of the guestrooms.”
“You don’t need to bother.”
“Nonsense!” Megan interrupted his protest. “You are injured. I can heal your wounds quickly as long as you do not object to Elvish cures.”
Without waiting for any further protests, Megan helped him from the kitchen and led him upstairs to a bedroom that possessed the same luxurious ambiance as the other areas of the house he’d been in. Even though Zak didn’t feel totally at ease in the plush bed, it was beyond comfort and it didn’t take him long after Megan left to fall into a deep sleep.
. . .
“What!” Zak cried out, bolting upright before coming fully awake. Pain stabbed at his side from the sudden movement.
“It is okay. You were having a nightmare.”
He sat breathing heavily both from the pain and from the unpleasant dream that still lingered within the shadows of his mind. He felt disoriented until he noticed those emerald green and gold-flecked eyes watching him intently. As he recognized Megan sitting on the bed next to him, the rest of his surroundings fell into place around her.
“Here, drink this.” She picked up a cup from the nightstand and offered it to him. It had a woodsy smell to it and was bitter going down.
The rumble of thunder pulled his attention to the window. The day was even darker than it had been, rain rapping upon the pane and on the shingles of the roof. He sat listening to the staccato rhythm as he collected himself. The dream had been so real, as real as virtual space blending with the world.
“What time is it?” he asked. He had thought the nightmares had left him. It had been over two years since the last. The inevitable guilt that accompanied them weighed heavily upon him once again. Now would be a good time to tell her.
“Seventeen hours, nearly dark.” Megan had changed into a loose fitting pale green dress, the material so light that he could nearly see her beneath it where it pressed against her body. Her make-up was now rather conservative compared to what it had been. Her feminine transition was a striking contrast to her rebellious look and seemed to accent her natural beauty. Reaching out, she placed her wrist upon his forehead. “You have a slight fever. It should be gone by morning though.”
“I should get going,” Zak said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable again. “I need to get home to Ke’aira.”
“You should stay and rest,” Megan countered. “And I want to monitor you to make sure there are no complications with your concussion. I can have one of the servants go and take care of Ke’aira for you.”
Zak’s instinct told him he should leave, but something within him refused to comply. “You don’t need to send anyone out in this weather. I’ll call my neighbor. She’s taken care of Ke’aira before.”
“Whatever you prefer.”
“Is there somewhere I could clean up?” A foolish question in a house this luxurious. There were probably several places where he could clean up. He felt even more foolish when he suddenly realized that he was naked under the covers, but he didn’t remember removing his clothes. “Uumm, I seem to be without clothes.”
“I took them to wash,” Megan said, a smile crossing her lips. “Relax, I did not take advantage of you while you slept. I am afraid your shirt is ruined though. And, yes, there is a place where you can clean up.”
Megan handed him a burgundy robe. “My father’s. I am sure he will not mind.”
Zak took the robe, although he wasn’t so sure about her father not minding. Motioning for her to turn around, he prepared for the adventure of getting out of bed without aggravating his wound any more than he already had.
Giggling at his embarrassment, Megan did as he asked. “It is a little late for modesty. I have already seen all that there is to see.”
“How nice,” Zak grumbled, then gasped in pain.
Megan instantly spun around to help him. He was doubled over clutching at his side, the robe forgotten on the floor where it fell. She eased him back onto the bed. Retrieving the robe from the floor, she draped it over him.
“For your sense of modesty,” she said with a smile. “The herbs in the tea will take the pain away, but it takes a while to take effect.”
When Zak felt he was ready to try it again, she helped him get carefully to his feet. A rush of dizziness swept over him and he nearly collapsed. Megan took a stagger step beneath his weight before regaining her balance and steadying him.
“Sorry,” he said, embarrassed that he needed her help.
“It is okay, I will help you down the stairs.” She led him slowly towards the doorway. “You can use the guest room down there to clean up. You will feel better after you have something to eat. I am preparing lunne’ waan. It is an Elvish dish. I hope you like it.”
“You cook?” He k
new the minute he said it that he shouldn’t have. “I mean, between the servants and the food processor...”
“Yes, I can cook!” she said. The pout on her face was more playful than serious and Zak was relieved that he hadn’t ignited another confrontation with her. “And I am good at it, if I do say so myself. I prefer to do things for myself. As for a food processor, Daddy is a traditionalist. Elves do not use food processors, or so he claims. Now, let us get you cleaned up and then we will eat.”
Zak felt much better after he cleaned himself up. The herbs that Megan had given him had taken away the pain just as she had said. His head and shoulder felt nearly normal again and there was nothing more than a bit of tenderness in his side.
“My father’s clothes fit you well.”
Megan was making the final preparations for their meal as Zak entered the kitchen. He was self-conscious of the brown suede pants and satin shirt, which was nearly as pale green as Megan’s dress. Elvish fashion had never appealed to him much and the fact that the clothes belonged to Duke Teranika made him even more uncomfortable wearing them. If Megan noticed his discomfort, she made no mention of it.
“I thought we could watch the Dragon’s game,” Megan suggested as she dished some sort of red vegetable onto two plates. “It is their season opener against the De Khant Wild Cats.”
“You really do watch football?” Zak couldn’t help his surprised.
“Yes, I love football.” She looked at him thoughtfully for a long moment. “I have beer to go with supper. Is that all right?”
“Yeah, sure.” Another surprise. In spite of her rebellious fashion sense, Zak had pegged her for more of a fine white wine type of girl based upon her background.
“Go on into the living room,” Megan said, bustling around the kitchen with the grace of a ballerina, as she attended to various preparations for their meal. “We will eat there. Daddy does not approve of eating anywhere other than the dining room, but I enjoy eating in front of the comm system.”
Every aspect of the house emitted a luxurious formality that reflected the Elvish culture. Extravagant paintings decorated the walls, while finely sculpted statues and other works of art were strategically arranged on elaborately crafted tables and cabinets. It all looked to be out of Elf Life magazine, and was definitely well beyond Zak’s comfort zone. After slowly making his way down the long hall and into the living room, he finally settled down on a plush cream-colored sofa. “Computer, display entertainment guide,” he said.
It wasn’t long before they were both sitting on the sofa with plates heaped with roast beef and vegetables smothered in a spicy sauce. The Dragons game started shortly after they began to eat. Fortunately, the game was being played in De Khant, twelve-hundred kilometers to the south in the Zentan Province. The evening in De Khant was clear and dry. If the game had been played in Sol Kappur Stadium, the two teams would have probably needed life jackets as the storm outside continued to rage.
“Should be an easy game for the Dragons,” Zak commented, enthusiastically cutting a slice of meat.
“Do not bet on it,” Megan said. “The Cats had the number two defence in the league last year and most of the veterans are back. Derm Connely is one mother of a linebacker!”
Zak gave her another surprised look. “You follow Aragne football pretty closely.”
“For an Elf?” Megan smiled at him teasingly, but there was also an accusation somewhere behind the smile as well. “Elves do play sports, you know. Even football. There were several attempts at getting a franchise in the Mythnol Forest, but the AFL rejected each attempt. They used the lame excuse that there was an insufficient fan base in the Mythnol Forest to support a team.”
“So, you actually played football as a kid,” Zak said, thankful that she hadn’t pressed him with more pro-Elf banter. “You must have been quite the tomboy, then.”
“No!” Megan laughed. “Well, sort of. I just never believed in barriers between the sexes.”
“How can you be so rebellious and modern, and still be a Sister of the Seventh Circle? I would think the beliefs of the Tah-Kna would be a bit too dated for such a modern-thinking Elf.”
“The fundamentals of the Tah-Kna are rooted in basic truths of the Universe,” Megan said. “One of those truths is that the Universe is constantly changing. Elves must learn to change with it. It is the self-righteous bureaucrats who are the real problem. They feed the fire of traditionalism in order to maintain control over the population and to protect their power...” Megan looked suddenly embarrassed. “I am sorry. I did not mean to beat the drum for my cause. I just think sometimes that Elvish culture has become stagnant and needs to move on in order to advance.”
“So, the Sisters arranged for you to be sent here, to Sol Kappur, because of your rebelliousness?”
“Yes,” Megan said. “They could not very well throw me out, considering who my father is. Besides, they look at me as something of a prodigy and so they make allowances. I hate being treated like I am special. I am just me.”
“...It’s a deep pass by Detner. He’s got Flaggle in the corner of the endzone. Touchdown!”
“Yes!” They both cheered as the Dragons scored, then looked over at one another and laughed.
“I called the hospital while you were asleep,” Megan said, a serious expression replacing her smile. “They said Harry is going to require surgery, but he is in stable condition. They think he will be okay.”
“That’s great news.” Zak really was happy to hear that Harry Mathers would be all right. But right now he didn’t really want the conversation to turn too serious. He simply wanted to watch the game and enjoy Megan’s company. Tomorrow would be soon enough to return to more sobering matters.
Megan must have felt the same way because she returned their conversation back to the subject of football. Zak was surprised at how natural it felt to be there with her, enjoying good food and watching the game. The ordinariness of it felt special. Thousands of other couples were doing this very same thing right now, couples who were not called out by a foretelling to save the world. He enjoyed his temporary anonymity among those ordinary people.
By the end of the fourth quarter Megan had somehow ended up snuggled against Zak, her head resting upon his shoulder and his arm around her. They had consumed enough beer to allow themselves a mutual attraction for one another. Her body next to his felt good to him. He looked down at her and found those amazing green eyes looking back at him. He wasn’t even aware of leaning into the kiss until their lips touched. The warmth of her mouth fed a hunger that he had been adamantly denying until now.
It all became somewhat dreamlike after that. Zak couldn’t really remember when they moved to Megan’s bedroom. He did remember, however, her electric touch upon his body...her eager response to his own touch...the undeniable passion that they shared.
27
Zak came awake to the awareness of a warm body pressed against him. Megan was snuggled beside him, an arm draped over his chest and a leg flipped over his own.
It took him a few minutes to clear his head enough to remember how they had gotten this way. Beer and football started out innocently enough, but by the end of the game they had slipped into a comfort zone that Zak now felt uncomfortable with.
As he watched Megan sleep, his thoughts invariably drifted back to the first time he’d seen her some twenty years ago. She had been with her mother and father outside their country residence in Port of Velsalador. She’d been nineteen then, barely out of childhood as far as Elves were concerned. Her beauty had been purely natural back then, without the cosmetic extravagance. Megan and her family were just setting out for a walk along the river that ran through their estate. Zak had been waiting for the Duke, knowing that it was his habit every evening to walk with his family when they were in the country.
The memory nudged the guilt he carried with him. It was time to get up, to push the past once more behind him. He gently rolled away from Megan, trying not to disturb her in the proc
ess.
“Good morning,” she said, her voice husky from sleep. She gripped him tighter so he could go nowhere. She gave him a smile that could only be interpreted as seductive. “You do not really want to get out of bed, do you?”
When he met her gaze, his churning emotions produced a sudden panic within him.
“I gotta go,” he said, rolling away from her with purpose.
“What is wrong?” Megan asked, confusion clouding her smile. She sat up in the bed, making no attempt to conceal her nakedness. “Zak, what is wrong?”
He saw his own clothes neatly folded on the dresser and went for them. How did they get there? He shrugged the question off and began dressing. Pulling on his pants, he winced from the pain it caused his wound. Funny, he didn’t remember it bothering him last night. All while he dressed he tried to avoid looking at Megan, but she refused to leave his peripheral vision. “I just have to go. I have work to do.”
“It is early. Come back to bed.”
“Can’t.”
“Zak, what is wrong?”
“Nothing. I told you, I have things to do.” The only choice he had in a shirt was the pale green one Megan had given him the night before. “Mind if I borrow this?”
“Go ahead.” She said, carefully studying him. “You regret what happened last night.”
“No! No, of course not.”
“Yes, you do.” She was watching him closely. “Admit it. You regret that we slept together.”
“Look, I didn’t plan for anything like this to happen...”
“Oh, and you think I planned it?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Maybe I put a potion in your food, or I could have used sorcery on you while you slept. After all, I am one of those nasty magical Elves you resent so much!”
Zak’s defensiveness morphed to anger. She was judging him without even trying to understand. He instinctively struck back. “Now that you mention it, I didn’t feel any pain in my side all through our little romp last night and I don’t do Elves. Did you put a spell on me?”