The Dragon's Match

XII

XII

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

"Lillian, wake up."

Even though the tone of the words were nothing short of gentle and concerned, her body lurched from the realm of sleep as if hurled from a deep and endless cavernous rift.

Every part of her was trembling, her heartbeat a distinct and continuous thunder, and sweat dampened her hair, making the linen shirt she wore cling to her skin.

Wildly, she glanced about her chambers, coiling her body backwards until her shoulders bumped against the wall behind her and she curled her knees against her chest, panting. Her body and mind were in a state of distress, of intrinsic panic, yet confusion numbed her thoughts and altered her perception- she could not conceive the cause of her panic, merely that it had been induced during her slumber.

When her gaze collided with his, she stiffened, her breath hitching and holding within her lungs. Aëghan crouched low beside her bed, one hand placed gently on the white linen that separated them. Even in the shadows it was easy for Lillian to discern the worry displayed outwardly on his countenance.

Though he was within the confines of her private chambers, she sensed no threat from him, and she compelled her body to relax, expelling the breath she held with a tremulous release. A bolt of lightning illuminated the room in a flare of blue light, followed by a loud rumble of thunder. Every part of her body reacted to the sound as if the lightning had struck her, as if the thunder had physically surrounded her until she could hear nothing else.

It took several long moments for her to still her vehement, impulsive reaction, and Aëghan merely waited, his unwaveringly dark gaze glistening through the shadows as he scrutinised her.

At least, Lillian conceded, she had the cause of her distress evident. Storms would always haunt her and provoke memories she would much rather forget.

Aëghan's presence on the other hand...

She swallowed several times, dispelling the thickness that had swelled her tongue. "What are you doing in my room?" Her voice was a hoarse rasp, a dull ache at the back of her throat indicative of the night terrors that had possibly caused her to shout out in her sleep.

His eyes switched over her face, moving along her features as if he were attempting to determine something, then further down they trailed until he paused where she was hugging her knees to her chest. Lillian self-consciously tugged the shirt she was wearing over her limbs, his open regard unsettling her. "I..." he began, his voice trailing off, and deep grooves settled in the angles of his cheeks as he frowned over his next words. "Your fear."

Her fear? A chill coursed over her body, the fire in the hearth having long since died, and her sweat-dampened skin drawing the coldness like a tether. What, however, her 'fear' had done to compel him from his bed and into her chambers was somewhat confuddling. She scowled at him softly, ignoring the unkempt, tousled appeal of the man who had clearly just arisen, his shirt creased and loose, his hair a woebegone mess atop his head.

But if it was her fear that had arisen him, then perhaps her shouts had been loud enough to be heard across the passage where his room was located. Even though she had been unnerved to be positioned so close to the Dravolese, once Enorae had shown her to her chambers and assisted her with a bath, Lillian had not seen or heard from Aëghan again that day. Not even to partake of a meal that had been served in a dining chamber in the lower floor of the ruins.

So seeing him now, here in her chambers, in the middle of a storm-riddled night, disconcerted her considering she had thought that perhaps Aëghan meant to keep to himself and away from her for the duration of her stay.