Xilanada - Descending Dark Of Past And Future/Part 4

The 27th Day of Resplendent Wood, 766 in the Year of Our Empress.

His bedroom was quiet. Sen could hear the half-asleep fire stirring in the fireplace and, if he listened hard, he could make out Xilanada breathing in his bed. Her rhythm was soft, steady and slow. The kind of deep sleep that would allow him certain success, were she marked for death. How many times had he come upon a sleeping target like this? But not like this. Not in his own bedroom. Not her.

Tepet Sen closed his door quietly and walked across the floor.

He hung his overcoat over an idle chair and grabbed another to set next to the bed. This part of the room was dark and the thick canopy shut out sound and light. He parted it. Then, he sat down and leaned forward, just to see her.

Xilanada was a beautiful woman. Was it because of the curly blonde hair that was the envy of many female students, he’d heard? Was it the delicate face, worthy of a master sculptor, that managed to look so child-like and yet strike a man’s heart as only a woman’s beauty could? Was it the supple body that turned walking into a performance he’d pay to see? Was it those incredibly deep blue eyes, just a hint lighter than the finest star sapphire?

It wasn’t any of those things, Sen realized as he sat. Yes, she had beauty but he was a scion of House Tepet, a legendary carouser in the days before its present trouble. There was no way of numbering the number of women he’d seen, much less shared a bed with. Elegant Cathaks, sultry Cyni, even some of Mnemon’s own stodgy children had turned into lionesses beneath his hands. For a Dragon-Blooded of the Realm, there were no shortage of beautiful women and that was as plain as the Imperial Mountain.

Xilanda was more than beautiful, though. He admired her as she slept and mused on his fascination. It passed the time. After all, he already knew the reason her looks thrilled him so.

He loved her. Tepet Ajalat Sen, Fire-Aspect and Sorcerer Assassin, scholar and Professor, was in love. He knew his efforts to hide his affections were faltering. Likely Seya had guessed it by now. But the more he lingered near Xilanada, the less he cared.

Malias’ warning rang in his mind. Father’s admonition to be wary of her still stood. After the last couple of months, they were no closer than they were before to finding out who she really was or where she’d learned so much about the Old Realm. Seya thought she’d been a Guildsman’s pet sage for dealing with Spirits. Sen’s wager was that she had been possessed by something old, something that had left its mark after it passed on.

Seeing her sleep, Sen couldn’t see the small woman as a threat. Threatened, yes. The memory of that white Anathema made him frown. Was she the reason for Xilanada’s unusual memory? For that matter, could this Solitary Coil be a First Age demon? If Xilanada had been around her, it might explain how she had learned so much.

He didn’t like to think about it. The vicious woman frightened him. It wasn’t her skill with demons nor her possibly greater strength. It was the sheer power of her feelings for Xilanada. The more he thought about it, the more he realized she wasn’t in love, she was obsessed. Xilanada must truly be someone special. Imagine, a mortal who’d withstood the advances of an Anathema. If Coil could be believed, Xilanada even had some power over her. Laughable, really, to think that a mortal could bind an Exalt.

But if anyone could, it would be her. Sen grinned ruefully. He would know.

"You need a hobby." Sen’s grin widened at the playful whisper from the bed. Xilanada hadn’t moved but her eyes were open and she looked happy to see him. Yes, there was the true beauty he’d been marveling at earlier. Her looks were certainly among the best but the personality behind those magnificent gem-like eyes changed her from comely to consuming.

"I have one. You didn’t know?" She shook her head at him slightly and he elaborated. "I’ve made it my personal quest to take in at least one scene of perfect beauty every day. So you can’t fault me if I’m just fulfilling that quest."

"I swear, is there a book out there somewhere? Some book where you get all these silly little lines?" The warmth and light of her face blunted any implicit insult. No, she wasn’t the sort to play that game. He’d never met anyone of her sort.

"Not that I know of. But I might write one, someday. I hope you'll help me. I’ll need inspiration and I find it blooming when I’m looking at you."

"Oh, Sen," she breathed. The blankets stirred and she untrapped a hand to push the hair back from her forehead. She looked flushed, no doubt with withdrawal and the strain of the night. He tried not to think how she would look, if given other cause to sweat. No sense in being masochistic.

"How are you feeling, Lana?"

"Surprisingly better," she said. Xilanada looked thoughtful, her eyes looking away into space. "I suppose sleeping for a few days will do that. But I do feel much better than I did, even earlier when Glee was here."

"You’ll have to pardon Glee," Sen said smoothly. "She’s impulsive to say the least. I don’t know why Seya thought she would be at all restful for someone needing quiet."

"She didn’t come here to help me rest," Xilanada said, her teeth flashing as she scowled with sudden heat. "But lesson learned. Do we need to say more than that?"

Sen chuckled and shook his head at her subtlety. For a mortal, for a woman with no admissible past, Xilanada showed a rare streak of understanding. He would have thought her a patrician from the Realm, if her accent weren’t thoroughly Threshold. She certainly had the wits to handle courtly politics.

"Xilanada," Sen said, reaching forward and clasping the hand she’d freed in his. "I owe you an apology at the very least. I also owe you dinner, and you eating something may be more important than the apology, but please let me say this. I am...so sorry that I lost you in the crowd. It kills me that I wasn’t by your side to protect you from the riots."

"It all turned out alright," Xilanada said, shrugging in the bed. "Don’t fret, Sen. I’m still alive." She gave him another reassuring smile.

"I have something important to say to you, something I feel I must confess." A reckless fear crept over him as the words started spilling out, unchecked, unplanned. "Xilanada, I care far too much for you. I know you aren’t interested in me and...well, I’m a Dynast. Heartache is nothing new to those of Realm blood. But I want you to know this. I would give my life for you."

"Sen, don’t." She shook her head slightly but her eyes never left his. What was that pain that filled those sapphires to brim over onto those elegant long eyelashes? "It’s best that you not think that way."

The power of his feelings was irresistible though. He found himself speaking again, swiftly but eloquently, with passion and with very great sincerity. Sen had always been a cautious man by nature, as careful with his heart as he was with his knife. Maybe this was a Charm but it wasn’t hers; she was growing more surprised than ever at the ardor that surely must be on his face.

"Lana, listen to me. If you never wish to speak of this again after this night, no word will cross my lips but let them cross this once." He took her hand and pressed it against his chest as he bent near. Her eyes were wide, her breath quick.

"I love you."

"You can’t mean that," she denied.

"Can’t I?" Sen praised the Immaculate Dragons that his voice stayed smooth and unstrained. "I’ve watched you for months, Lana. I’ve seen the pain you suffer every day and how you bear it. I’ve seen the light in your eyes when you’re teaching, when you’re laughing, when you’re with friends." The reminder of Solitary Coil’s own pledge of love prodded his mind and he pushed it away forcibly. "I’ve come to wonder at that incredible mind of yours and all the things you know. And I’ve come to love you for it all."

"You don’t know what you’re saying!" she cried out. Her face was more flushed than ever. Desperation shone in her eyes, panic. Was she rejecting him? Or was she afraid?

"Can’t I love you? Can’t you see how amazing the woman I see every day is? Can’t you see yourself in my eyes, how very much I care for you and what happens to you? Can’t you simply accept that I love you, not question it, just accept it, believe it and trust in it?"

"How can you love someone you don’t know? How can I love when I don’t know myself?"

At last, the core of her fear came out. Sen only leaned closer to rub his cheek against the back of her warm hand. She smelled like the rose fragrance he favored for his blankets with an understated sweetness all her own.

"Lana, dear, you are a scholar. You think like one, testing everything out. You want everything in order, everything perfect. I’ve lived 73 years, as long as any mortal could. If there’s one thing those years have taught me, love doesn’t fit theory and it refuses fact. It doesn’t worry about who I am or who you are. It is. It’s the greatest gift Heaven can give, isn’t it? Would you spurn it because you didn’t understand why it was given?"

The question seemed to strike a chord in her. The suddenly introspective cast of her eyes told him that much. That abiding sadness loomed again, drowning the fear he saw in her.

"What if I don’t deserve it? What if I misused it already?"

Did this have something to do with Solitary Coil? Did Xilanda remember the woman after all? Had there been something between them? Sen didn’t know how he felt about it. That Xilanada was capable of feeling enough to have that kind of sorrow confirmed that her heart would be a splendid thing when it shone. But it also meant she’d willingly consorted with an Anathema. What could he say to that?

The answer came to him.

"That’s part of what makes love so wonderful," Sen answered. "There’s always another chance."

Deep tears slid from her eyes. Her hand squeezed his. He leaned toward her, rising off the chair, until his lips almost brushed hers.

"Let me show you," Sen whispered.

There it was, he'd done his best, made his play. Sen had seduced more women than he could possibly remember but he was pretty sure this wasn't going to work. Xilanda wasn't like that. Funny. He'd never been in love like this and, this once, he was helpless to follow through.

She didn't push him away, though. Instead, Xilanada's blanket-wrapped body shifted a little and she kissed him.

It was not a lusty wet kiss. It was a delicate, fragile kiss. It was sweet and tenuous, far more emotional than physical. It was every bit as good as he'd hoped for.

Xilanada's fingers moved up to cup his face, then slid up to push through his hair. She wanted him. She actually did. His body brushed against hers and finally settled down over her, length against length. Despite his clothes and her blankets, it was the first time he'd been so close to her in an intimate setting.

"Sen," she whispered, breaking their kiss at last. Her eyes shimmered in the faint fireplace-lit room. Sen stroked that curly hair, the way he'd been wanting to, and watched her in fascination. A tremulous little smile crept over her.

"Yes?"

"I want you to love me. Show me...make me believe what you said. Give me my second chance." Her gaze held him and he gasped inaudibly at the depths of the need he saw there. How could she be so strong while feeling that lonely?

Xilanada moaned quietly as his mouth found her neck. She quivered beneath him as his arms enfolded her, as he let his lips bear his love for her. Yet, she wasn't passive either. Her free hand continued to caress his head and he felt her pressing up against him.

Distractedly, he pulled his shirt off. His breeches came next and then it was bare skin against the thick sheets that wrapped the woman he loved. Without speaking, she pushed at the heavy blankets, an awkward effort given that he was lying on top of them. With the practiced grace that came from many long hours in the bedroom, Sen shifted his balance with elbows and knees and maneuvered into the space she made for him.

Settled against her, he felt the roaring furnace that was her body through the night-gown she wore. The flush of her flawlessly pale figure wasn't as much from sickness this time but he would have to be careful with her. Xilanada...it had to be perfect with her, it had to be love to heal her heart and soul.

So Sen kissed her again. His arms encircled her. Every part of his attention was focused on her, focused on convincing her of his feelings. Xilanada moved slowly beneath him but, inch by inch, she relaxed in his embrace. Sen gave her time to get used to him here. He understood the fearful trust in her eyes and how hard this was for her.

It amazed him to realize his own aching need was so distant in his mind. Sen had never been in the arms of a woman when lust was unimportant. He didn't think he had it in him to make this about her but even his body was cooperating with his will.

When the pitch of Xilanada's soft moans raised a degree, he let one hand stroke its way down her side, down her legs to the hem of the night-gown. Bit by bit, he tugged it up. It wasn't until it was past her taut stomach that her eyes grew wide. Panic spread across her face.

Sen stopped and simply looked in her eyes.

"I love you, Lana. It's right to be loved, too. Look at me. Do you believe I would ever hurt you?"

She shook her head and the fear in her seemed to ease. That introspection came over her again. Sen waited. Then, it passed and she was alive in his arms in a way she'd never been.

Xilanada's night-gown came off. Beneath the voluminous covers they lay together, skin against skin. When she at last parted for him, they came together in a way that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with tenderness.

All he wanted was to be everything to her that she needed him to be. That thought echoed in mind, holding him back, though the sweat on his brow showed how it cost him. Sen felt his reward when Xilanada's slender frame gripped him in every way, when his agonizingly slow motions coerced tear-streaked cries from that lovely mouth of hers. Only then did he allow himself to give in.

They lay together for what must have been hours, as close as two people could ever be. The effort of restraint and the culmination of all his hopes exhausted him and Sen drifted in a hazy kind of half-consciousness. Xilanada, for her part, had rolled herself against him and put her face in his shoulder. All he could do, all he should do was hold her. So he did.

"I don't deserve you."

Her whispery voice in his ear was so soft that he almost didn't hear it. Sen smiled. He carefully pushed his fingers through that beautiful curly mass of hair of hers and tightened his embrace.

"You deserve love," he whispered back.

"So do you." Her face pulled away and Sen looked upon the face of the woman he loved, soul-deep. Feverish still, hurting still, she nonetheless looked happier than he had ever seen a person. Anywhere. Ever.

"I want you to know, Sen. I love you too. I do. I...I love you. I can't help it." She smiled self-consciously. "No one has ever cared for me like that. I never thought I would ever feel so...cherished."

"You should rest, my love," Sen said. His arms tightened around her. "You're still not well. Lay your head on me. I'll be here until you wake."

It was not a passion-filled night, after all. By Hesiesh, most of his sexual encounters had been far more extensive than this one had been. None of that mattered. As she settled back in his arms and her breathing deepened into a still slumber, Sen couldn't help but feel this was the highlight of his life.

Now if she only felt that way come morning.