Page 5 of Sweetling
It was Oberon’s mother who had led her herd here to watch over Ravenna in her sleep. Not even orcs were foolish enough to trifle with such a large herd. Under their protection, Ravenna would take the deep sleep, one in between the long and stone sleeps. Not unlike torpor, it would dull and hide away her powers until Allarion could return for her.
Breaking from the faelands would take time and effort, sapping him of his strength and leaving him vulnerable—and unable to completely protect Ravenna from whatever dangers might await them. Maxim had decided Ravenna would take the deep sleep while Allarion recovered and sought a place to establish a new life. He would search the human realms for something suitable, and when the place had been imbued with his magic, free of Amaranthe’s taint, Allarion would return for Ravenna.
It’d all seemed logical when Maxim explained it.
Knowing what he had to do, knowing that it was all Maxim’s wish, did not make watching his daughter and dread-mount mourn him any easier.
With one last solemn whicker, Oberon pawed the earth, leaving his mark in the dirt and claiming the land for his herd. This place and everything within it were now under their protection.
Ravenna regarded the herd in the trees silently for a long while, and Allarion didn’t rush her.
He watched on silently as she slowly went about making up the bower to her liking. She piled it with pillows and blankets, digging through a basket of them until she found a particular one. Allarion easily recognized her baby blanket, a faded blue now, the flowers embroidered on one corner beginning to fray.
Holding it close to her chest, Ravenna settled onto the bed inside the bower, staring back at him with unseeing eyes.
Chest tight, Allarion approached. Kneeling before her, he covered her in blankets.
“Will I dream?” she whispered.
So young, she’d never had reason to take the deep sleep. She asked without fear or nervousness, just a single tear slipping down the bridge of her nose.
“No,” he said.
“Good.”
Ravenna’s eyes slid closed.
It was in this last step, this final moment, that Allarion hesitated. The weeks trying to escape Fallorian had been long, but now everything moved so fast. In a moment, he’d leave her there, hoping she would go undisturbed while protected by unicorns and her father’s many wards.
It was time to leave the last remnant of his friend, of his life, behind.
For a moment, Allarion couldn’t do it.
The tide of his grief swelled, strangling his conviction. He faltered, tears he’d never let escape gathering in his eyes.
I can’t,his heart cried,I can’t, I can’t.
Then Ravenna reached out to take his hand. Her skin was so warm compared to his, and he clutched that hand.
She gave him the strength to complete his dearest friend’s final wish.
He reached out with his magic to help guide hers. She struggled for a moment, her mind resisting the unfamiliar task, but with a little nudge from him, she found the ancient path that led the fae into the deep sleep.
It took only a few moments, and when Allarion opened his eyes, Ravenna lay still on the bed. Her chest barely rose with the faintest of breath, and her face went slack with oblivion.
For now, she was free.
For her sake, for Maxim’s, he left her there.
Allarion stood, closing the bower door behind him. The herd stood silent witness as he mounted Bellarand. They turned east, toward the rising sun and their fate.
1
Three Years Later
The wedding of Lady Aislinn Darrow to her beloved half-orc was a triumph for all the otherly folk who had come to call the Darrowlands their home, Allarion included. As the happy couple made their wedding vows and sealed them with a kiss, he clapped along with the others, his soul a little lighter to see the obvious joy in their faces.
Maxim and Aine had looked at each other in such a way.
