"Adeon," Catherine said softly, huddling into the fur cape for warmth. He ignored her, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly with his fingers as he continued his slow, methodical circling at the mouth of the treasure cavern. "Adeon,
please..."
She had awoken hours ago and had found Adeon pacing restlessly, his eyes wide. His ruined shirt still lay forgotten in a corner, and she could see his muscles coiling and tensing with each prowling step, moving slowly under his skin like a tiger's. The rigidity in his stance and the slack line of his mouth made it incredibly clear that he hadn't slept.
"What do you want from me, Catherine?" he finally murmured, his eyes flitting briefly towards her before resuming their listless stare at nothing in particular. Manic shadows the color of bruises framed his eyelids.
"I want you
here,"
she insisted, extending one hand towards him. "Next to me. Come sit with me; we can take a bath and you can relax..." He let out a short bark of scathing laughter and she faltered, her brow contorting in worry.
"Relax,"
he repeated incredulously. "I cannot afford to
relax.
Not when at this very moment, legions of knights could be on their way to besiege my mountain. And if what you've told me about Roane is true..." He let the sentence hang in the air, and fury darkened his expression.
"You're not helping yourself by staying awake," she scolded. He snorted.
"I'd be helping myself even less lounging in a bath with you, I'm afraid." His lips twitched into a bitter smile. "Not that it isn't tempting." Catherine let out a weary little groan and pushed herself to her feet, and the cloak tumbled off her shoulders and onto the glittering floor. He turned away from her as she approached him, his hooded eyes skimming his surroundings without really seeing them.
"I don't like seeing you like this," she whispered, trailing her fingertips down his shoulder. He inhaled deeply at her touch, and she reached up to grasp one of his arms, gently halting him in place. She stood on her tiptoes and wound her arms around his neck, and he knelt towards her almost helplessly as she moved to brush her lips against his. "You look...scared," she said against his lips, her voice trembling a little. He lurched towards her and claimed her mouth with his, kissing her hard, frantically, and she gasped as his hands came up to crush her waist against him. "Please," she pleaded after he had severed their lips, quivering from his intensity. "Come with me. Just for a moment." His muscles loosened compliantly and she tugged him behind her, leading him down the passage.
When they reached the pool, he watched her with rigid uncertainty as she stood in front of him and fumbled with the fastenings of his trousers. Her lips pressed against his chest once she had undressed him, and then she grasped his wrists to lead him slowly into the spring. After he had eased himself into the pool, she stripped off her dress and sat on the ledge behind him, deliciously hot water swallowing up her ankles.
"Here," she whispered, and he maneuvered himself so his shoulders were in between her legs. His head lolled wearily to the side, resting against the skin of her thigh, and she knelt to cover his neck and shoulders with gentle strokes and feather-soft touches. A hiss of a breath escaped his lips, and she cradled the line of his jaw in her fingers, pressing a long, hard kiss to his forehead. "Please don't be scared," she begged.
"Oh, Catherine," he breathed, and the sensation of his lips moving against her thigh sent an unwelcome tremor up her spine. "I'm
terrified."
His voice cracked in a distinctively un-Adeon-like way as he spoke, and her heart shattered at the desperation in his voice. She swallowed hard and kneaded her palms against his shoulders, eliciting a faint moan from the depths of his lungs. She traced the valleys of his throat, the knife-like ridges of his collarbones, trying to channel any relaxation she could muster into him, and after several minutes he seemed to go limp in her hands. Her throat worked silently as she tried to summon the courage to speak, a thousand thoughts clouding her brain like a swarm of birds blotting out the sun.
"We're going to be alright," she assured him quietly. "But there's something...there's something that you might have to do." He was quiet, but he lifted one hand to skim the skin of her ankle with his slightly too-long nails. She wet her lips. "Adeon," she finally said. "I think you're going to have to let me go." Silence swallowed up the chamber, broken only by the steady drip of water that was coursing down his palm.
"I know," he whispered after several moments, and his voice echoed harshly off the walls. She rested her lips against the crown of his head, staring worriedly down at the rippling water.
"It's the only way I can think of," she continued, "where they wouldn't...chase you."
"I'd suggest that we leave," he muttered darkly, "but I know that you won't accept..."
"They know I'm alive now, Adeon," she sighed. "They'd hunt you down. They wouldn't stop." Her breath hitched a little in her throat. "This is my fault," she whispered.
"What's done is done." His voice was flat and lifeless. There was a dejected sort of resignation there, the acceptance of a man waiting for his fate in the gallows, and the gravity in his tone stung. He didn't look at her as he traced the length of her leg, his fingers nearly spanning the circumference of her calf. "It's going to be very difficult for me," he continued softly, "to keep myself from murdering those knights where they stand." She nodded jerkily, closing her eyes tight and trying to lose herself in the hypnotic silence of the cavern and the steady strokes of his fingers on her leg.
"I'm sorry for doing this to you," she said after a moment. "For putting you in this situation."
"I want you to be
happy,
Catherine," he said quietly, and his words sent a jolt of pain coursing through her chest. "If this is what it takes, then so be it." She let out a soft sound of objection, but he was clambering up and out of the pool, wrenching himself out of her arms. Her eyes lowered to the water as he moved to dress himself. An unfathomable sadness was welling up inside of her and squeezing at her lungs like ladder rungs, like some horrible living thing was clawing its way up her throat. Suddenly, she heard him crouch behind her, and she held her breath. The locket strung its way across her throat, and she watched silently as he fastened it at the nape of her neck, pressing his lips to the area between her shoulder blades once he had finished.
"Are you going to resume your pacing?" she asked wryly, and he let out a faint breath of a laugh.
"Perhaps," he said softly. She slung her legs over the edge of the pool and turned to face him, and he pressed her wadded-up dress into her arms. His face disappeared from view as she tugged it over her head, and when it reappeared, he was watching her intently with that lazy, half-lidded gaze of his. She was relieved to see the familiar expression, although a glimmer of insecurity made his eyes just a little too bright. "Would you care to join me?"
"I suppose."
By the time they arrived back in the treasure room, Adeon's posture was oddly slouched, and his movements seemed sluggish and a few inches off-kilter. Catherine watched him warily, ready to intervene in some way if he began careening towards a wall. Stalking towards a haphazard pile of jeweled statues, he braced one hand on the surface of a golden idol and leaned against it, rubbing his eyes with the other. Catherine lowered herself onto the ground next to him, chewing nervously on her lip.
"You're tired," she protested, and he gave her a half-hearted glower from between his fingers. The glare was magnified by the impressive circles beneath his eyes. Even though he had only been awake for a little over twenty-four hours, she could tell that anxiety was eating away at some vital part of him, weakening him, making him sloppy and high-strung. His hands were clenched, but his spine curved lazily at his shoulders. His brilliantly green eyes burned, but the lids drooped wearily. All at once, he seemed as if he was only seconds away from either succumbing to a violent rage or falling asleep.
"Exhausted," he fired back irritably. She reached up and tugged insistently at the leg of his trousers, and he gritted his teeth. "I
can't,"
he said, but she pulled a little harder, frowning up at him. With a groan, he sank down next to her, and she moved her arms quickly as his head fell heavily into her lap. "You're going to be the death of me," he objected weakly, and his eyes closed almost involuntarily as she lowered her hands to stroke his hair.
"You need to sleep," she urged.
"How can I sleep," he breathed hoarsely, and a hint of madness accelerated his voice and slurred his words together, "when at any minute, a horde of brutes with swords is going to come and take you--"
"Shh-shh-shh," Catherine said, trying to swallow the panic that was vibrating deep in her belly. At least one of them needed to exude some sort of stability, and at the moment, he didn't seem entirely capable. "It could be days. Weeks, even," she whispered gently. She hesitated and bit her lip, looking down at him helplessly. "Maybe if I just left now, I could spare you all of--" But she was cut off as he clutched at her wrist with one of his hands and gave her a wide-eyed look.
"You can't go," he implored, and a little shudder ran up the length of his body, as if the thought caused him physical pain. "What if I never see you again?"