Y'Roden's Stories

Saying Goodbye

The pain forced him to his knees where he wrapped his arms around Ghet's legs, resting his head on her hip. "Don't hate me. Gods... I love you still. I've given everything I have to you." 

Then a choked sob did force its way out, and she dropped to her knees, pulling his face to hers and kissing him with naked desperation. "I know that, do you think I don't know that? How could I hate you? I owe you everything. Without you I'd still be that thing you found with Avathar." Her hands slid over the bare skin of his chest, blindly seeking something, some certainty. "You have given me more than I have any right to expect of you. And I have given you everything I can give. We both know... it's not enough."

She pulled a hand back to wipe the tears from her face, to push her hair back. "I don't want to lose you. More than that, I don't want to stand by and watch while I lose you by degrees. I don't want to hang around and wait for you to make up your mind." 

Y'roden recoiled from the truth, trying to block out Ghetsuhm's words with a kiss. She had been his once, for a brief time. Broken, ready to take her own life, but his. Just for a moment. The half-elf had always needed more, wanted more, but it was never meant to be. It was killing him, slowly and certainly. It HAD killed him once.....

He had never thought another woman would tug his heart strings. There had been a time when he was positive that no other woman could. He had loved Summerlin, that much was true, but he hadn't been able to let Ghet go for her.

Was he ready to let her go for someone who didn't even know how he felt about them? It wan't a fair question, not to him, not to Silverthorn, and certainly not for Ghet. "I'm sorry," he choked out against her mouth, "I can't make you do anything you don't want to do Ghet." He felt like part of his soul was being ripped out, and it was difficult to breathe. 

Ghet sank down and rested her head on his chest, her lips tracing lines she adored. "You can, you know. You can make me do almost anything I don't want to. Do you think I want to do this?" She had been angry, but now that anger was gone and she was simply, inexpressibly, sad. She had done something for this man that she would never do for any other, the worst thing she could conceive of doing. She had deliberately hurt Galain. She had insisted on keeping Y'roden as her lover, even though she knew, could not help but know, exactly how much it pained the man who was her soul.

She lifted her face again to kiss him, trying to cling on to him in spite of everything. "I think perhaps, that if I stay, you might not... I think it would be easier for you to work out what you felt if I left." 

Gathering Ghet to his chest Ro nearly crushed her to him. "Nothing is ever easy without you," he whispered, "But I don't want to hurt you. You deserve better than that. I've hurt you too much already." The emerald hue of his eyes had nearly gone black, stained by an agony he never expected to feel.

Tilting Ghet's chin up he kissed her, losing himself in the familiar scent of ginseng. His hand ran up her back to the base of her neck, supporting her head, the familiar warmth of her long red locks tickling over his skin. Lissenya Nwalme... 

That was when she knew. He would never have let her go that easily. There had been a time, he would not have cared what it cost him to keep her, and that time had somehow, when neither of them had been looking, passed. It was worse because there was no fault, there was no-one to blame.

He touched her, roused her, and the name he had always called her burned across her mind. So many things would be easier when she no longer had to perform this balancing act; only living would be harder. She wondered why it was not in her to refuse, to fight to keep him, but really she knew. She loved him too much to keep him where he no longer needed to be.

Still, she would put off parting if she could. She arched up towards him, her mouth devouring his, seeking to push the pain aside. "Not yet, not yet, please. Make love to me."

He had never been able to deny her anything, aside from her own death. If Ghet had asked him to stay he would have, but she didn't. What she did ask he could give, and gladly.

Lifting her into his arms Ro carried his lover to the bed, eyes locked with hers as he lay her down on the soft comforter. Gently pulling the emerald rose from her cleavage he didn't even feel it when a thorn penetrated his flesh, a drop of blood falling to stain Ghetsuhm's breast.

Tucking the blossom into the fiery haired beauty's hair he bent to kiss her, tasting goodbye on her mouth as his fingers divested her of clothing. 

Throughout, she wept silently, tears sliding into her hair. For once, she did not need to fight the urge to beg him to make it hurt: he'd already hurt her more than she could bear. She'd never been on the receiving end of this, it had never been her pain she used passion to try to deflect.

Eyes open, she stroked his face, spoke his name against his lips as she drew him into her body. Aminmela lle, Y'roden, oiale. Forever...

There was a desperation to it, a fevered need to memorize curves already commited to memory, that could never be forgotten.

Why?... Why?... I wasn't ready..

The half-elf's silent thoughts haunted him. He could taste Ghetsuhm's tears on his tongue. He had done this, he had caused her pain. Wasn't it him that was suppose to suffer? Hadn't he sworn to himself that he would never hurt anyone again? Least of all her....

"Aminmela ile, Ghetsuhm," his words whispered into her hair. Feanya yanwe lyaa hilde, nothing can ever take that away.

(Feanya yanwe lyaa hilde - My spirit joined yours forever)