Rhiannon

- Memories -

"Rhiannon! Rhiannon hurry!" her mother's voice echoed from outside the small wooden house in Africa.

"Mother? Who is he?" Rhiannon asked, when she saw man, his face covered with blood, his unconscious body held by two men.

"I don't know, stranger, just a stranger. Hurry, bring a water, something to clean his wounds!"

"No, no wait," she came to the sofa, where they laid him. "Allow me," she looked at her mother, who answered with a simple nod.

"Leave," she turned to men and followed them.

Rhiannon placed her hand on his forehead, tilting her head, closing her eyes. Thin silver purple ray came from her palm and spread over his head, neck, chest, whole body. In few seconds, he opened his eyes and watched her surprised.

"No, you are not dead," Rhiannon suddenly said.

"How would you know, that I was just thinking about that?" he whispered weakly.

"Just a simple guess," she created crooked smirk with her pale thin lips.

"What is your name?"

"Rhiannon."

"James."

"Keziah," she whispered under her breath. "How do you feel, James?"

"Considering the fact, that an hour ago I thought, I am going to die, I feel alive," he said sitting on the sofa.

"Allow me to wash your face," Rhiannon took a piece of fabric, poured water in the wooden bowl and added some oil inside.

"Lavender," she inhaled its scent, "it will clean the wounds."

She gently washed his face, staring into his eyes.

"Are they blue or green?" she asked and answered to herself. "Blue green, like Elements. Earth and water. Life giving, life taking. Is there also fire inside you, Mr. Delaney?"

He wasn't able to say a word, she was ravishing, mesmerizing, magical.

"How do you know my name?"

"I know everything about you, James Keziah," she said softly. "Everything."

Her mother entered the house and sent Rhiannon away. She stopped in the doorway and looked at him for the last time.

God help me, she is so young.

He bought a small house in Africa, just to be sure, he will be close to her and one day, the day she turned 17, he invited her and her mother for a dinner. Few people from the local village.

Rhiannon.

James.

"Thank you for inviting us," her mother said after the dinner, when she was ready to leave.

"How about a song, miss Bradbury?" one of the locals asked. "Young miss like you surely sings and plays the piano, isn't it true?"

Rhiannon looked at James. "Do you want me to sing for you?"

"Yes, please."

"I know only one song, though," she said in a sweet voice.

"I think one song is enough, we have to go anyway," her mother said strictly and Rhiannon smiled as she started to walk to the piano.

She sat on the chair and her fingers started to dance on the piano board.

Her mother's face turned red. Shame, anger. She wanted to stop her, but she was too scared to make a dramatic scene.

When the song was over and silence took over the place, all Rhiannon could hear was sound of James' heart.

Beating just for her.

She came to his room later that night, for the first time. She came and she sang for him again.

Last verse.

Last verse before he silenced her with kiss.

First kiss.

First kiss that sealed, that she is his and he is hers.

So fold thyself, my dearest, thou,

and slip

into my bosom and be lost in me.