Author's Note: this story is set in the world of my ongoing series of fantasy novels, the MageLore and ElfLore books.
"Audra," she said. "My real name is Audra."
How strange to hear it spoken aloud after all this time, even in her own voice. A moment later, he echoed it, and she briefly closed her eyes as a shiver ran the length of her body.
"Audra," Karandis said. Thoughtfully, as if weighing it, testing it. He nodded, and the hint of a smile softened his lips. "Audra."
Strange, too, to
be
Audra again. To be flesh and blood. To see with her own eyes, hear with her own ears. To be alive ... to have smooth, pale skin instead of a shining truesteel blade ... to breathe and eat and drink ...
And
feel
.
She had, as an enchanted sword, been able to perceive her surroundings in a way that she could not describe even to herself. There had been sensation of a sort, yes ... the strong grip of his hands on her hilt ... the shearing of her edge through armor and bone ... the hot gush of blood ... she had experienced these things, relished them. She had been able to understand what was said, and communicate, and recognize those around her.
Now she was
here
. With them in person, in the flesh.
With him. With Karandis.
The others were there as well, Tavelorn and Rae and Menleh, and she was glad of their acquaintance, but she found it difficult to take notice of them. It was all but impossible to look away from Karandis. And his gaze never strayed from her ... as if no one else was in the room ... as if no one else existed in all the world.
His hand covered hers, that familiar, callused warrior's palm. His touch was so gentle. She knew he could crumble bricks in his fist, but his touch upon her was so, so gentle.
He was not, she supposed, what most elfmaids of the Emerin would consider conventionally handsome. Tavelorn, lean, slim and elegant, with his fair complexion, jet-black hair and glacial eyes, fit that description far better.
Karandis was broader through the shoulder, deeper through the chest and more powerfully muscled than any elf save perhaps the king. Where not traced white by scars old and new, his skin was bronzed by the sun. The sun had also lightened his already blond hair, which he wore short and indifferently combed. His features were strong and chiseled, his jaw perpetually set with determination. His ears, showing to great advantage, were swept and tapered in a way that left her more than a little breathless.
But it was his eyes, most of all, that stole her breath and replaced the beating of her heart with a hummingbird's flutter. They were the warm, clear blue of a summer sky, darkened with intensity as he looked into hers. There was no uncertainty in his eyes. No hesitation. Not a trace of doubt, not a single question. Only a calm and steady knowing, a desire so forthright and foregone that it transcended anticipation.
They would make love. Soon. Tonight. Without any need of the coy flirtations and flatteries of the Emerin's courtship games. It was as inevitable as moonrise, as unstoppable as the tide. They could not have resisted it, even if either of them had had any slightest wish to resist.
This unexpected chance had been given to them, given like a gift. They could not let it go to waste, could not let this singular opportunity pass them by.
The moment Karandis had stepped through the doors of the white tower with his greatsword strapped to his back, the overwhelming magic of the place had battered through the imperfect enchantment that held her. One moment, she had been only Maidenstar, six feet of honed truesteel with a hilt of ivory and amethyst, and in the next moment there had been a wrenching, spinning impact ... and she had struck the floor as Audra.
Her shock at the abrupt transformation had only been exceeded by theirs, as they gaped in astonishment at the sight of a woman where there had been a sword an instant before. At the sight of Audra, of a tall and slender elfmaid rising naked before them, her only adornment the truesteel and amethyst beads woven into the many long, thin braids of her ivory-colored hair.
They had bustled and fussed about her, Rae taking charge and having Menleh fashion her a gown, Tavelorn using his physician's knowledge to assure himself that she was what she appeared to be. They had shared a meal, and good wine, and conversation here in this mysterious magical tower.
And through it all, coursing like a current of flame, this same heart's desire passing between her and Karandis. This same wanting, this same surety.
The others noticed it, of course, and were Emerinian enough to take a friendly spiteful glee in dragging the evening on, delaying the moment when Audra and Karandis would at long last be alone. But there was little sport in it for them, Audra knew; she and Karandis were all but oblivious to anything but each other.
He held her hand, studied it, explored it with that gentleness no one else would have believed from a warrior like Karandis. He stroked her long, graceful fingers, rubbed the ball of his thumb along the delicate ridge of her knuckles, turned her hand over to trace with a fingertip the lines of her palm and the intricate path of veins in her wrist.
It was her hand, only her hand, an innocent enough touch, and yet Audra found the caress to be erotic beyond belief. Unbearably so. She laced her fingers through his, and held fast.
Karandis lifted his gaze to hers again.
Once, as a little girl, she had nearly drowned in a lake while on a family holiday. She'd begged her brother to take her swimming with his friends, and he had only agreed when their mother intervened. The older children had swum out farther and faster, headed for a raft, leaving her paddling along behind. She had tired, had gone under.
The water closing around her had been a pressure, surrounding her, robbing her of strength. Her lungs had demanded a breath of air, demanded it on pain of death.