DISCLAIMER: All characters are the property of Gail Carson Levine. Some OC may be scattered about.
The story starts immediately after chapter 32 of The Two Princesses of Bamarre. Although, it's not absolutely necessary to have read the book--just helpful. I've included all the pertinent information within the story itself. More chapters to come.
The effect of the kiss lingered long after their lips parted. My God, she's beautiful, Rhys couldn't help but gaze lovingly at the woman he held in his arms, tightly against his chest, a smile on his lips. It was incredible that it had only been two weeks since he last saw her, last held her; it felt like so much more.
Two weeks he had been separated from her. Typically, two weeks should not have affected him so; he was a sorcerer. A year to a human was barely a few weeks to his species. They were destined to live 500 years with only the air the in their lungs to sustain them. No, had the circumstances been different, he would have been able to bear the time easier. He would not have spent countless hours laying in the silent darkness, his thoughts tormented by images of her bloodied body, the misery of defeat marring her precious visage.
He had spent the time alone; awake in constant agony not for his own injuries, which were numerous, but for the one creature he had devoted himself to. Even the sanctuary of sleep could do nothing to alleviate him; he had not the capability of it. His inhuman body was built to make full use of every hour of his life; no second was to be wasted in something so time consuming or as inane as sleep. He was forced to feel the full brunt of his emotions, his anxieties, his fears, in total isolation. Not another soul was allowed more than five minutes in his presence for fear of impeding his recovery. The fairies claimed that he needed the stillness and 'serenity' of the dark to allow his body to properly convalesce. Oh, yes, the 'serenity' had worked wonders for his troubled mind.
"Rhys," his name dropped softly from her lips as she drank in his loving countenance.
She too had felt the weight of their separation. If it had not been for her sister's foresight to place a sleeping spell on her, her convalescence would have lasted months—too long to be without him. Even the past few days of consciousness they spent apart had been near unbearable. The constant reassurances of his health by Milton, Meryl, and occasionally Drault did little to appease her; all she had wanted to do was see him.
Her fingers found their way into his silky black locks. It was all she could do not to cry—the horrors of the past few months had left a heavy mark. All she wanted now was to have some peace by her lover's side.
Although, the term 'lovers' denoted more to the relationship than there actually was. Their respective love had only just been confessed hours before the grotesque battle had taken place. They only just shared their first kiss.
However, none of that mattered. The look they shared, the kisses, were more than enough to confirm that they were meant to be.
Criticism is welcomed and sought after--the goal is to improve after all.