Guian (A High Fantasy)

How to Forget

"We can leave, Frost. There's nothing keeping us here. We can go." Gwen watched him hopefully. Firelight flickered across his face. The low murmur of the other diners in the pavilion masked their clandestine conversation.

"Gwen, what are you talking about?" Frost sat with his forehead in his hand, exhausted. "We can't just leave. The General will never let us. Not with what Xavier and I know and his disgusting obsession with you. He won't just grant us leave."

"We'll leave in secret." Gwen whispered, all of a sudden feeling like the plan was naïve and childish.

"Gwen, no. It'll never work. We could all lose our lives. If we even manage to leave base, they'll come after us."

"Frost, don't you see? This is the only way to save your life." Gwen eyes glistened. "I can't watch you die." Her voice broke. A tear rolled down her cheek. She caught it on her finger, and stared at it, horrified by her own show of emotion.

She looked up, and saw Frost's face twisted in concern--in pity--

She shook her head back and forth vigorously, as if she could take back what he had seen.

Gwen felt another hot tear leak from her eye. She stood up abruptly, tripping over the bench behind her. "I have to go. I have to go." she whispered, almost to herself. She turned and fled the pavilion, unaware of anyone in the pavilion or on the path. She smacked into the General's arm, but continued to run. No one could see her tears--the tears that meant she no longer cared only for herself. Her cynicism dripping from her eyes to the ground, so none was left in her mind.

She was in her room in no time. The dark enveloped her, and she was grateful for it. Not even the walls could see her body's betrayal of her innermost thoughts, the thoughts she had hidden even from herself.

She could not care for those in danger. If she did, it would destroy her. She couldn't bear to lose anyone else.

"Gwen." River stood in the doorway. She hadn't even noticed it open. She began to rearrange her face into a scowl, but something about the way River stood made her stop. He wasn't standing in his usual arrogant, authoritative, over exaggerated height. He looked normal. She looked up at his face, and saw  something odd there too--an empathy.

All at once, she knew he had felt what she was now feeling.

He shut the door gently before joining her on the bed. He leaned against the wall and pulled her against him.

He smelled musky, and a little like sandalwood. Something in the back of her mind told her to pull away, to kick him out of her room--but she found that she wanted to stay. She wanted to be held, to cry into the shoulder that smelled like sandalwood and curl in the lap of her brother's worst bully.

If River held her, it wouldn't matter. She did not care about him.

And he did hold her, for a while. It had been an indefinite amount of time before he slowly pried her off of him. Her tears were no longer flowing, but he saw the sadness in her face. He cupped her cheek in his hand.

"Gwen, I know how this feels." His face was mere inches from hers. He whispered, "I can help you forget."

Before she knew what she was doing, Gwen was kissing him. He was a good kisser--not surprising, given his reputation. She leaned into him, fierce, determined. Determined to forget Frost, determined to forget Xavier, determined to impress River with her own skill.

His shirt was gone, and she marveled at how it had happened--she supposed she had done it, but it had been so fast. He pulled away from her to pull her tunic over her head and then was back. His breath filled her mouth, his tongue danced on her lips. She traced her fingers over the muscles of his chest, his stomach, wondering at the chiseled hardness accomplished by years of fighting. His fingers hooked over her leggings. His lips met the curve of her neck.

Gwen closed her eyes.