Maggie Furey - Aurian

They lay in each other’s arms, letting the world drift slowly back to them. Aurian was filled with awe. She had passed through the most important event in a woman’s life— and Forral loved her. Not as the young girl he had known, but as a woman. She felt transformed, and so, somehow, was he. Aurian felt unaccountably shy in the presence of this muscular, hairy man—her lover. Then he turned to her, his face alight with tenderness, and he was Forral again, whom she had always loved and trusted.

“Ah, love,” he murmured, “if you only knew . . .”

Aurian reached out to touch his face. “I’ve known ever since I was a little girl. I told you then, remember?”

“Aye, so you did. 1 thought it was just a childish fancy, though. I didn’t take into account how stubborn you can be, And what a fighter! Gods, but I was proud of you today!”

“You taught me, Forral—and now you’ve taught me something else.” Aunan’s eyes danced. “Who do you think won this time, then?”

“Wretch!” Forral laughed. “Who do you think won?”

“I think,” Aurian said happily, “it was a draw.” And she kissed him.

They bathed, and doctored each other’s wounds from the duel. Aurian wanted no magical Healing today. She had magic of another kind, and every one of these scars was precious to her. None of the cuts was serious, but now that Aurian was noticing them, they stung. She was beginning to stiffen up after being sweated up in a battle then making love on a drafty floor. But it made no difference. She and Forral were stupefied with wonder. They could hardly stop touching each other, and gazing into one another’s^eyes. To Aurian it was like coming home.

Their ministrations might have developed into something more, but they were interrupted by a discreet knock on the door. Forral swore, and went to answer it. No one was there, but a large tray, laden with food and drink, had been left on the floor. As Forral put it on the table, Aurian spotted a slip of folded paper propped against a flask of wine. Forral opened it, and burst out laughing. “I might have known!” He handed the note to Aurian, who recognized Maya’s neat, compressed hand. “About bloody time!” it said.

After they had eaten, they decided to see if their love felt as good between clean sheets. It was even better. Dusk found them sitting up in bed, sipping peach brandy as the sound of Maya’s voice drilling the hapless new recruits in the parade ground drifted through the open window.

Aurian sipped the mellow spirit. The warm glow, as it trickled down her throat, matched the glow she felt inside. But it reminded her of more serious matters, and she turned to Forral. It was best to get things right out in the open.

“Why have you started drinking so much?” she asked him.

Forral almost dropped the glass. His face flushed guiltily. “Who told you?”

“Maya. She’s worried, Forral, and so am I.”

“Gods, does that wretched woman know everything? Between the two of you, a man doesn’t stand a chance!”

“That’s because we care about you,” Aurian said softly,

Forral put his arm round her, “I know, love, and I’m sorry, A man gets defensive when he knows he’s been acting like a fool. It was just—well, it was you.”

“Me?”

He nodded, “I don’t know when I stopped thinking of you as a child, but when I did—well, I’ve had women before . . .”

“Oh?” Aurian’s voice had a dangerous edge. His previous lovers were the last thing she wanted to discuss right now!

“But not for a long time,” Forral said hastily, ruffling her hair. “Anyway, I knew you felt the same, I tried to avoid this happening, to protect you, but I knew I was hurting you, and it hurt me too—-and so I started drinking,”

“Well, why didn’t you say something?” Aurian demanded, “Think of the time we’ve wasted!”

Forral sighed. “Look, let’s talk about this another time. We’ve been so happy today, I don’t want to spoil it.”

“No,” Aurian said fiercely, “I want to know. You said yourself that I’m not a child anymore. Is it something to do with this stupid Mage—Mortal proscription? Because I’ve already thought about that, and I don’t care. If need be, we can go away together. Miathan doesn’t own the world.”

“No, it’s not Miathan, though we’ll have trouble enough when he finds out about this. But there’s something that you haven’t considered.” Forral’s face looked very grave. “Aurian, you’re Mageborn. Unless something kills you, you can live as long as you want. It’s different for me—I’m a Mortal. I’m not a young man—I’m over forty now—and even if I survive the dangers of a warrior’s life, how many years do you think I’ll have left? I tried to stop this from happening because I love you, and all too soon I’ll be dead, and I can’t bear to think of you left alone to grieve.”

Aurian felt a dizzy lurch in the pit of her stomach. She had never considered Forral’s mortality. As she stared at him in horror, the room seemed to vanish around her, and she felt the same premonitory shiver of dread that she had experienced that morning. It seemed as though his features had been overlaid with a vision of that same dear face, but pale and still, the eyes closed in the sleep of death.

“No!” Her own tearing cry brought her back to reality. The vision vanished as she buried herself in Forral’s arms, sobbing.

He held her tightly, and it seemed as though his warrior’s strength were flowing into her. She stiffened her spine and wiped her eyes, and her chin went up in the old stubborn gesture. “If grief is the price of our love,” she said, “then I’ll pay it. Not willingly, maybe, but in full. I love you, Forral. I’ve waited years for this, and I’m not losing you now. Even Magefolk don’t live forever. We may be parted for a while, but someday I’ll find you again, I promise, in the worlds Beyond. I already have Miathan to fight—I’ll take on Death too, if need be.”

There were tears in Forral’s eyes, but he smiled. “My warrior,” he said gruffly. “I’m^lad you’re on my side.”

“Always. And I’ll be there for a long time yet!”

Forral hugged her. “The Gods help anyone who tries to come between us. One thing though, love. When I’m dead—”

“Don’t say that!” Aurian cried.

“Just this once,” Forral said firmly, “and I want you to remember what I’m going to tell you now. You don’t know grief yet, but I do, and I want to warn you. When I die, at first you may want to follow me. Don’t. You’ve been blessed with the gift of long life, Aurian, and many other gifts besides. It would be a grave sin to throw those gifts away. I can’t go on with our love if it will rob you of your future. No, love—when I’m gone, I want you to find someone else, if you can, and be happy.”

“How can I?” Aurian protested bitterly. “How could you ask such a thing of me?”

“Because I love you, and I don’t want you to go through the years alone. That would be foolish and unfair. I’ve seen people waste their lives moping around the graves of their loved ones. Don’t you ever make that mistake, because I won’t be there. I’ll be with you, wherever you are, in your heart. If I ever catch you at my graveside, I’ll—I’ll make it rain on you, see if I don’t!”

Despite her anguish, Aurian had to smile at that, and as the moment lightened, they turned to talk of happier things. But Aurian kept his words in her heart. She felt older now, and sadder, but stronger and more determined than ever. Now that she understood its transience, her love for Forral was bittersweet, but infinitely precious.

Miathan had missed Aurian the previous day. As soon as she entered the room, hand in hand with Forral, he knew where she had been—and why. Forral did not bow. “Archmage,” he said calmly, “Aurian and I have become lovers.”