Heart of Leoth: [HAITUS]

Part II ~ Fara

She'd dreamt of Theodan every night since her return to Prissia. Almost as if he were trying to reach her through the barrier of sleep, the tall glass walls and polished silver gates of Prissia unable to keep him out. The dreams were not always a comfort.

Sometimes she dreamt of losing her child, awaking wet between her thighs  and reaching down expecting to see Galyn's babe bleeding from her as it had done before, but each time finding nothing but remnants of her own pleasure, sticky and hot like warmed honey. Sometimes her mind was her own but she wore the body of another,  Theodan too. One who felt like him and sounded like him, one whose arms felt like strength and devotion when they wrapped around her, but one who looked like another. A red-eyed, moonlight-skinned god who could only be The Dark One.

It should perhaps worry her that He was inside her dreams, that he sometimes spoke to her with Theodan's voice and held her with Theodan's body, but there was no menace in him. Only power and pleasure. All of it welcome and glorious.

Each dream felt like a message, important and necessary, and when she woke she felt strong from it and flooded with purpose. Except the more she came awake the less vivid the dream would feel until it melted away into nothingness with the rise of the day. The yearning for him remained, however. Each time she dreamt of him, the ache inside her grew, need for him running hot through her veins. And each morning she let the maids wash away the memory of it, dampened cloths running between her thighs and beneath her breasts leaving only traces of Poe flower and lemon behind.

Valdr spent his days sequestered behind his solar doors with his Nati and closest Lords, coming to her only at night.  Sometimes to talk, sometimes only to hold her. When he wanted more than this, she knew. For he would arrive clean - he was always scrubbed clean when he came to her for this - and dressed for sleep. The door to her chamber would open and his eyes would be black and shining before he strode toward her with purpose and fire. Despite what he'd said in Alathy, he never stayed the night with her again. Afterwards, he would always kiss her tender and soft, whisper his blessings to the gods for returning her to him, and slip quietly from her chamber to his own. Whether he went to his wife's chamber after she had no idea. Her own ritual was the same. Wash him from her body. Add the small spoon of cerulean blue powder to her honeyed wine. Sleep. Dream.

Dacian had been welcomed back onto his table of counsellors as they discussed war strategies and the movement of troops along Calate's land and sea borders. Whether he was fully absolved from his part in the death of Torrik of Zybar, she knew not. She had not been. She saw it in the looks of those who had been favourable to the pact with Zybar. She would not rid herself of the rumours of 'Leoth Spy' so easily. She cared not. Whenever she asked Valdr of Elyon, he told her that he was 'alive'. She told herself this was all she could ask for. That it was enough.

She spent her days reacquainting herself with the place she used to call home. Walking it's immaculately tended paths and gardens until her feet yelped quietly, she visited the stables and chose a mare to ride out into the forest as hard and as fast as she could until she met the cliffs edge and stared endlessly out across the ash sea towards Leoth, wondering whether he lived or died. She was confident he lived.  Too stubborn to die, too honorable to his promise to let anyone move him from keeping it. She also felt she would feel some shift in her soul if he no longer walked upon the mortal realm, the death of a hope she nurtured and kept safe inside her  if he was gone from this world. The dreams kept him alive in her mind and in her heart, if he were gone, the dreams would cease - she knew not why but she was certain of it.

On the fifth day after their return, Dura invited her to tea with her. She'd expected to hear from her sooner and worried that some underhandedness was at play within the palace - by Ravol - to keep them apart, and so was relieved by the invitation when it came. After tea in Dura's chamber, they walked the inner walls of Prissia, where Fara pointed out where the sun was most kind through the day and where the scents were most delicious in the gardens. She'd scanned the girl's flesh and eyes for any evidence of Valdr's cruelty but found nothing. She still did not know the frequency of Valdr's visits to her, or if there were any, but she was as smooth and unmarred as a babe. Her gaze still shone with a bright innocence that continued to remind her of Cassie.