Page 11 of Wed to the Dark Elf

I whimper and Vamen smirks, going harder and faster. He snarls and grunts, crying out and releasing inside. He stuffs me full and collapses on top of me.

Vamen kisses me and chuckles. "I love you."

I touch his strong cheek and smile. "I love you."

I wake the next morning to sunrise glowing red through the frost-limned windows. A bad omen, or so the old village women always said. Blood on the snow by day's end. I mutter a quick prayer against evil visions. But the day passes uneventfully enough.

Come evening, Vamen is called away after supper to the barracks for a strategy session. The hour grows late with no word. I pace our chambers, waiting anxiously. My eyes stray often to the windows where the night stays black and still.

When the door finally groans open well past midnight, I fly to Vamen's side without thinking. "Thank the heavens! You were gone so long, I had begun to fear..." I falter, seeing his haggard expression. "Forgive me. Is something amiss?"

Vamen rubs both hands over his face. "All is well. The council dragged on, debating matters long settled."

He makes no motion to withdraw to his own room, so I guide him gently to the fireside chair. He lets me remove his cloak and boots in silence. I offer a cup of mulled cider warmed on the hearth. Vamen accepts it with a weary nod of thanks, eyes lost in the dancing flames. He looks utterly drained.

Settling on a stool by his feet, I ask, “Is there any way I might help ease your burden?” He gives a rueful shake of his head. “You do help, Iris. Your light in these halls is a balm in dark times.”

His candor touches me deeply. On impulse, I lay my hand over his where it rests on the chair arm. His clawed fingers twitch in surprise but then curl lightly around mine. Neither of us pull away for a long moment. When Vamen finally sets down his emptied cup and rises, reluctance weighs my tongue.

“Will you not stay, my lord? It’s late to retire separately...”

Vamen pauses, weariness warring with propriety on his face. But then he nods and allows me to lead him into the bedchamber. I turn my back to change into my shift as he removes his outer layers, then slips beneath the blankets on my designated side. Vamen joins me after a brief hesitation, the mattress dipping under his weight.

I murmur soft wishes for his rest, then let sleep pull me under. Throughout the night I gradually became aware of Vamen’s warmth against my back, his knees tucked behind mine. It feels comforting rather than untoward, a shelter against gathering storms.

Dawn comes muted through heavy curtains. I peel my eyes open to find Vamen already risen, pulling on his tunic. He pauses seeing me wake.

“My thanks for your company last night. You were right, I rested better.” He looks aside, more vulnerable in the admission than I’ve ever heard from him. “I hope I did not unsettle you.”

I sit up, tugging the blankets close against the chill. “Of course not, husband. Did you sleep well?” At his confirming nod I smile softly. “Good. Let us face this day's trials with renewed spirits.”

Vamen steps over to the bedside, expression earnest. “Your grace and wisdom are a credit to your spirit, Iris. I am most fortunate for my wife.” He squeezes my hand briefly, then takes his leave to begin the day’s duties. But his tender words linger long after.

From that night onward, we shared the marriage bed without awkwardness. In truth, I sleep better with Vamen's steady presence beside me. The innocent intimacy fortifies me against the creeping dread stalking the halls. Hard times are coming, but we will weather the storm together.

Several days later, a rider gallops through the gates in a lathered sweat. Vamen rushes to the hall and I follow close behind. The scout delivers his report amidst heaving breaths.

“My lord...wolves mass at the border... Prepare for siege—"

He collapses before he can utter more. But the message is plain. War has come to the Northlands at last. A hand grips my heart like a vise, but Vamen's face shows only iron resolve. He turns to his captains.

"Make ready. Seal the gates and man the walls. Archers to your posts. Tonight we defend our lands against the howling dark."

His voice rings with authority, kindling fierce courage even in my breast. The forces of evil may be at our door, but we shall meet them with strength and valor. Vamen's clan will not fall easily.

As soldiers rush to obey Vamen's commands, he seeks my eyes across the hall, brow etched with solemn promise. Nodding back, I lay a fist over my heart. I am his and he is mine. Let the wolves come.

CHAPTER7

Vamen

The waiting frays the nerves worse than battle. Soldiers pace the parapets, staring into the gloomy twilight hills. Any moment the wolves will crest those ridges, baying for blood.

I keep Iris close by my side in the central keep, her arm linked through mine. She stands tall and steady, but I feel her pulse racing where our limbs press together. She is terrified yet masks it valiantly. My brave lioness. I know she will never flinch from duty, even if war and death terrify her.

Dusk bleeds away, replaced by the void of full dark. Torches blaze along the walls, lending the night an infernal glow. Still we wait, breath frosting the air. Then a rumbling like thunder shakes the stones beneath our feet. Howls erupt from the black hills, unearthly and chilling. I turn to Iris one last time.

“Stay here. The inner gate will hold them.” My greatest fear is being separated from her in the chaos about to erupt. But Iris shakes her head fiercely.

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