ELRETH

Once they'd eaten, neither of them was in a hurry to move. The flames still crackled merrily, and with the river burbling nearby, Elreth sighed with peace.

Aaryn had pulled a log they'd found over next to the fire and was sitting on it. Elreth sat on the ground, leaning against his legs.

It was a peaceful moment and one Elreth hoped they'd find ways to repeat when they were back in their normal lives, but the quietness between them made her wonder what Aaryn was thinking—which immediately turned her mind to the things they would face when they returned. His scent threaded through with rising tension, and Elreth suspected she knew why.

"Are you worried about your mom?" she asked quietly.

Aaryn's hands, that had been kneading her shoulders, hesitated. "Not exactly," he said. "I'm a little nervous that I didn't see her, but less so now that Eadhye's helping. She's been amazing. I don't think I would have gotten through the ceremony without her there to care for Mom."

Elreth nodded. "What is it, exactly, that's wrong, do you know?"

"Not really," Aaryn admitted. He started stroking Elreth's hair absently as he spoke. "Eadhye calls it the darkness. She said a lot more Anima go through it than we realize—but Mom's case is severe. She said her own mother had it when she was growing up. Which I guess is why she's so sweet to me."

Elreth pushed herself up straighter and leaned her head back on his knees. "That's so scary. What causes it? I mean, seems like she got sad, right? Something hurt her? And then she just… what? Retreated?"

Aaryn shrugged and shifted his weight. "I don't really understand how it works. I only know that when she's in that place it's like… it's like she can't see the sun. I remember when I was kid, for the longest time I'd spend every day looking for something good, or funny, or exciting. I'd run up to her room to tell her, because I thought if she heard enough funny things, or enough good news, she'd get better."

He snorted at his own naivete, and Elreth's heart went out to him at the sharp self-loathing that entered his scent.

"Don't blame yourself, you were a kid!" she said, taking his hand and holding it at her shoulder.

"I don't blame myself—not anymore. I did when I was little though. No one explained it to me. Mom didn't know how to, I don't think, and no one else understood. They all just thought she was grieving my dad—then they all thought she got shy. I guess she'd been pretty quiet and shy when she was younger and everyone just assumed with him gone, she'd kind of gone back? I don't know. I just now that our house felt like someone was dying, but no one talked about it. It was really confusing."

"I'm so sorry, Aaryn. I had no idea."

"No one knew. And besides the worst of it had passed by the time we met. She was still shaky then, she'd still go to bed sometimes. But she usually fed me or made sure I had what I needed. She was at least aware of the world."

Elreth got up from the ground and turned around to sit next to him on the log, hugging his arm. "I guess I just pray I'm never afflicted that way. I'd hate to put you through that."

*****

AARYN

Something cold and eerie twisted in his gut, but he tried to ignore it. "I don't think… I don't think it's a sickness that you catch, El," he said dryly.

"That's not what I meant. I just… I don't want to see you go through that again."

He didn't want to go through it again, either. He didn't watch his mother go through it again now. But it had never occurred to him that others in his life might be afflicted this way.

His mind's eye was suddenly battered with images of Elreth, sick and frail, laying in bed, unwilling, or unable to see anything beyond her own need to escape.

He tightened his arm against his side, pulling her closer.

She stroked his back and squeezed his arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

He shook his head. "You have to tell me, El. If you ever get to feeling… down. If you feel like you want to stay away from people, or sleep all the time. You have to tell me, even if it's only a little bit."

"I will. But don't worry about that. Seriously, Aaryn, so shouldn't have said that. I've never had a dark day like that in my life." Her voice was soft and warm, but he couldn't look at her, was too busy staring at the horrific images in his mind. It didn't even have to be the darkness. Elreth might get in a fight with a challenger and be injured, or even killed! She might have to travel to negotiate with the bears, or another of the outlying tribes. She could get sick…

"Hey, hey, look at me," she whispered, taking his chin in her hand when he didn't turn and forcing him to meet her eyes. "Look at me, scent me for truth. I'm never leaving you. Never. And I'll never… retreat like that, I promise. Okay? We're in this together. You're stuck with me. As long as you're near, I'm never going to want to retreat from the world."

"Me either," he whispered back. "I can get through anything as long as you're there, El."

She nodded. "Me too. So you see, we don't have to worry about this. We'll help with your mom, and we'll help with my parents when they get old or sick, or whatever. We'll help other people, because we're going to be fine. We're here for each other. Always"

"Forever," he murmured, remembering their cuffs.

She nodded and smiled. "Forever."

He leaned in to kiss her, not the heated, insistent demand of his earlier kisses, but a soft, gentle-touch. Featherlight. Barely there. But so, so full of love that he shivered.

As they kissed, he buried his fingers in her hair and pulled her to him, and she clung back, the kiss still desperately soft—and full of promise.