Galain's Stories

Regrets

This story includes some events which were later altered. Here, Chase is Galain's son, and Ghetsuhm and Y'Roden have not met. Nonetheless, the emotions are still true.

She'd thought she could handle it, she really had. There were some areas she was a little under-experienced in, including anything to do with love.

She had no idea why she was feeling the way she was. Every time she looked at Thaya she hurt. She had never before, in her whole long, chequered and shortly to be a major mini-series past, knowingly taken a man who belonged to another woman. It might look noble, but she just didn't like to pick fights she didn't think she could win.
There was no way she could win here. Whatever Galain might feel for her, it couldn't equal that. She'd broken every rule she'd ever made herself, and worse than that, she'd made a fool of herself.

It had been okay until they'd come back here. Here there were too many memories. She wondered how soon she could leave without attracting too much attention. No. She had to tell him, she had to make her intentions absolutely clear while she still had the will to do it.
So she found herself seeking what she'd been avoiding all evening: Galain's eye.

He felt eyes upon himself then. Very steady denim-blue eyes. Galain swiveled around in the chair until he locked gazes with Ghetsuhm. The banquet was quite forgotten as he automatically stood and walked directly toward her.

"Hello, love," he said right away, surprised to see Ghetsuhm in a corner. He eyed her curiously.

"Don't call me that. And don't call me that other thing either." Oh yeah, this was going to be a piece of cake. She could tell by the look on his face he had no idea where she was going with this.

"Sit down, we need to talk. This isn't the best place to do it, but it will have to do." She realized she was using her old Fleet voice, which sounded remarkably like the one that came out of the wall. Best all round, really. If she could just get the whole way through this without feeling anything...

"I was wrong. I was wrong about everything. Okay, not everything." No, if she didn't love him this would be so much easier. "We shouldn't... be together any more. I can't compete with 'Thaya. I can't go on feeling like this." She had to stop, because the pain was breaking through into her voice. She had to stop and breathe or she was going to cry, which meant that he got the chance to speak and she hadn't been planning on letting him do that...
 

Galain’s expression went slack-jawed. Don’t call her ‘love’? or ‘melda’? He shifted slightly and ran a hand through his hair, tilting his head as she spoke. He obeyed her automatically, just barely finding a chair before his frame hit the floor. She paused and he leaped in.

“What are you feeling, Ghetsuhm?” He asked, enunciating her name carefully. “What do you mean you ‘can’t compete’? Is there a contest here?” The words spilled out as his heart began hammering a little too hard. He spoke urgently, but quietly, not bothering to look over his shoulder. He wasn’t quite sure he could believe what he was hearing, especially as he locked his eyes with hers.

"I don't know what I'm feeling. I don't know what to call it. It hurts. When I see you with her..." In a flash, it came to her. If he felt for her anything like what she felt for him, what did he feel when he stood at her wedding? He'd known longer than she had. "I don't want to hurt anyone, I can't. Listen, this is not open to negotiation. You go back to your bondmate and be happy. You and I are never together again. We never touch. If I could... take out what's in my heart, if I could stop loving you, I would. If I could stop wanting you, I would. But I will stop being your lover." She gave a bitter smile. "It's not like you'll be running short." 

“But mel-- , Ghet… suhm,” he was having a terrible time referring to her formally. He’d felt love for her so long it wasn’t like he could just switch it off.

“Are you sure?” It was agonized whisper.

 
Her stomach roiled when he told her he loved her. Part of her rejoiced at his words, the rest curled up and tried to die. She wanted so much to touch him, take his hand, kiss him, but if she did that, she would never get out of here...

"Some things are more important," she said, wondering dully who she was trying to convince. "You don't need me. Chase does. I don't need you." Dear gods, that was like speaking through a mouthful of broken glass, and it was an outright lie. "An'Thaya does. I"m strong enough to stand without you." Did he know how brittle her strength was? That it would yield to the right touch, the right situation? Where could she draw more strength from? "You know what Chase would do to you if he knew. And I know... there is something inside you that seeks to destroy itself. Your... feelings for me are a part of that. There was no-one more dangerous, more unsuitable you could have chosen to... feel that for. So you chose me."

Oh hell, she had sworn never to hurt him, to protect him from pain, and she was hurting him so badly. She could see her own agony in his eyes. Her heart broke. Unknowing, one hand reached out to touch his cheek. "I do love you. That's not going to change in a hurry. But I won't yield to it. I am sure."

Oh yeah, he hurt. It was the strangest mélange of emotions that roiled through him at the moment. His entire attention was focused hard upon Ghetsuhm.

“You don’t know why I love you. I loved you before Chase,” he said at last. It was hard to speak. He was reeling from her words, from being told that she didn’t need him. He leaned in against her touch on his cheek. “Please don’t stop loving me. I’m certainly not going to stop loving you. You have no idea… just no idea.” His words were a direct reflection of his incoherent thoughts.

“I won’t let this happen,” the elf said suddenly and very firmly, stressing the elven word for ‘beloved’. “Trying running, melda. You won’t get far. I won’t let you.”

Ghet's head was spinning. She was trying to stomp on the part of her that was savagely happy at his words, that she could engender such passion in him. Her hand had shifted to stroke his hair, alive with tenderness. Her brain was sending messages to pull it back, but they weren't getting through.

She was vaguely aware that she had started to cry, soundlessly. "Please," her voice no more than a whisper, "Don't make this harder, please. Let me go. For their sakes." A nasty dark little part of her knew, if it had just been Chase, she would have been in Galain's bed right now. She trusted her own ability to keep their secret from him, without damaging her relationship. But the knowledge of An'Thaya made her feel like a whore. They were bonded.

Abruptly, she knew, if she stayed here with him any longer, with his eyes on her, she wouldn't be able to keep it up. She would lose her soul to him, as well as her heart. She loved both Galain and Chase totally, without reservation. It shouldn't have been possible. She shut her eyes tight for a moment, and gathered her resolve. "I'm going to go now. Please don't follow me."

She evaded his hand and left the room. She had things she had to get before she left. Instead she found herself... "Oh gods, no..." She had a broad streak of masochism,and it had brought her here, to the door of this room.

She let herself in, in the dark, sat, and opened herself up to the vibrations in the room. She let out a short sob as it hit her. They were so strong the room still held them: pure, unadulterated joy. And lust.

He had loved her before Chase. How had he stood it so long?

There was something of pleasure as she gave into her misery, mixing her pain with her previous joy. She slid over sideways, lay on the floor and wept.

The elf sat up and stared blankly at the wall. Their sakes. Chase and An’Thaya? He nearly snarled. His son was far stronger within than any knew. And An’Thaya? She was a whole different ballgame. Even after having lost each other for several centuries they still maintained a relatively open and easy relationship. Hell. He could still feel the reverberations of the bond she’d just made. That didn’t mean he’d not go homicidal if he found her with another man, but that was something else.

A smiled twisted his lips. Did Ghetsuhm know how completely he loved her? That if she could love himself and Chase that he could quite do the same with her and An’Thaya? The smile twisted more. She might know deep down but she had this amazing little code of honor and ethics that continually threw up roadblocks.

Well now he’d stepped into it. Was he going to stop himself? No. A dying man does not slake his thirst by leaving the water. And Galain was determined to drown himself. He pushed himself off the chair and looked blindly around. If he were a Ghetsuhm to where would he flee? He strode from the ballroom, quite determined to disobey her last request that he not follow her.

Ghet staggered to her feet. She still didn't know what she should do. If she left, she would be safe for now, but it wasn't like he didn't know where to find her. If he pursued her, he might unwittingly betray them to Chase, and then she would have nothing.

Then the door opened. It wasn't that dark. Unconsciously, she backed away. How badly would he make her hurt him?

"I will not be your whore."

“Do you think so little of yourself?” he asked then in a quiet voice. “Do you think that’s all I want you for?” He was quiet. “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do. I’m sorry.” Galain swayed and turned away, a blind man groping in the dark.

“This is far from over. You win this time. Go home and be Chase’s wife.” The last sentence was bitten out and nearly ended with a sob that he abruptly broke off.

She would not win next time. He’d see to it somehow .