Chapter 34.
974 Words
"Tonight is about more than just surviving the frost," Fenris said, sensing the slight tremor in her hands. He gestured to the tables overflowing with roasted root vegetables, salted meats, and the heavy, sweet scent of fermented mountain berries. "A successful winter harvest means the pack- and our allies, will see the spring. It is a time for the North to remember that life is more than just a struggle against the cold."
He took a slow step back, giving her the air she needed. "But I know the noise is loud for you. The trauma doesn't just vanish because the harvest was good."
Rhiannon looked at the crowds of dancing dryads and laughing warriors. "I want to be here. I want to celebrate the fact that I’m alive to see it. But the weight of so many eyes... it makes me nervous."
"Then let them look," he said, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly vibration that hummed in the air between them. "They see a fairy in a silk gown, Rhia. But I see the woman who threw me into the sand this morning. I see the woman who pulled a century of poison out of my chest without blinking."
He shifted his weight, his presence becoming a solid, unyielding wall between her and the rest of the room.
"If the weight of their eyes gets too heavy, put it on me," he promised. "I’ve spent a hundred years carrying the expectations of this mountain. I can carry a few stares for you. You don't have to be perfect. You just have to breathe. My wolf has the watch- nothing touches you tonight unless you invite it in."
He looked at her bare arm, the goosebumps still visible against the silver wolf-fur of her gown. He wanted to reach out, to trace the line of her shoulder and pull her into the solid safety of his chest, but he saw the flicker of hesitation in her green eyes. He knew that for Rhiannon, intimacy was a mountain she was still learning to climb, and a single forced step could send her tumbling back into the dark.
"I won't ask you to dance," Fenris said, the gold in his eyes softening but never fading. "And I won't ask you to stay if the room gets too small. But I would like to stand with you. Just for a while."
Rhiannon felt the pull in her chest settle into something warm and grounding. She reached out, not to touch his skin, but to lightly catch the edge of his crimson tunic. It was a small gesture, a tiny anchor, but in the crowded room, it felt like a monumental bridge.
"Standing is good," she whispered. "I think I can manage standing."
They stayed by the hearth for the rest of the evening, a pair of pillars amidst the swirling celebration of the mountain’s bounty. Fenris remained a constant, golden shadow at her side, his presence a barrier that no one dared to cross without an invitation.
He kept his hands to himself, honoring the boundary she didn't have to voice, while his wolf hummed a low, satisfied song of companionship.
As the music grew louder and the laughter rang through the Lower Hearth, Rhiannon realized that the intimacy she feared wasn't the only kind that existed. There was an intimacy in the silence, in the shared space, and in the golden gaze of a man who was willing to wait forever for her to be ready.
*~*~*~*~*
The corridor leading to Rhiannon’s quarters was a tunnel of flickering orange torchlight and cool, cedar-scented air. The muffled sounds of the Lower Hearth- the rhythmic thumping of drums and the occasional boisterous howl, faded into a peaceful distance.
Fenris walked beside her, his pace matched perfectly to hers. He was a silent, massive guardian, his presence a warm weight that didn't crowd her, but ensured the shadows stayed at bay. As they reached her door, the heavy oak stood as a familiar boundary.
Fenris stopped a respectful distance away. He didn't lean over her, and he didn't reach for the handle. He simply stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes still glowing with that low, molten gold that hadn't quite faded since the moment she had entered the hall.
Rhiannon turned to face him. She felt the lingering hum of the evening settling into something more serious.
"I’d like to train more," she said, her voice small but carrying a new, jagged edge of intent. "I want to be ready."
Fenris tilted his head, his gaze sharpening. "Ready for what?"
"To go south," she admitted, her fingers twisting in the enchanted silk of her skirt. "To search for my wand. My wings... I'm almost sure they’re a lost cause. They were severed at the root. But my wand... it was carved from a branch of the First Tree. It’s a part of me, Fenris. And now that I’m stronger, I can hear it calling. Like a vibration in my bones."
A flash of pride crossed Fenris’s features, a fierce, quiet light that made the gold in his eyes pulse.
"Then we will train," he agreed. "We’ll move past the basics. I’ll teach you how to fight in the brush, how to move without a sound, and how to use that blue fire of yours as a weapon instead of a shield. If you want to find what was stolen, I will make sure you have the teeth to take it back."
Rhiannon nodded, a shaky breath of relief escaping her. "Thank you."
Fenris gave a short, solemn nod. "Get some rest, Rhia. The sun comes up early on the mountain."
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