Healing

[Elyna]

20th Ymiden 716

When Malcolm woke on the 15th he hadn’t been pleased to find her crumpled on the floor, arms folded on the mattress and face pressed to them as she dozed. They hadn’t had time to discuss it though, because Ronald and Kathryn had knocked on the door. Elyna had greeted them and they’d been eager to rush past to see the Captain. Anxious about leaving Malcolm alone, Elyna had taken the opportunity to ride back to the city with Kathryn and gather up a few of her belongings, clothes, toiletries, weapons and sewing kit, most of the things she owned fit neatly in the one bag. It was the Hawk cage that was difficult to manage, as she rode back on Ember, Kathryn leading Ronalds’s horse and carrying a bag of food, enough to see Elyna and Malcolm through a couple of trials at least.

Anxious to get back to the house on the hill, Elyna had been quiet, despite Kathryn’s many many questions about what had transpired between the Noblewoman and the Captain. They returned just after midday, with the Knights taking their leave shortly after.

The tall man slept a lot, which was understandable. Elyna ensuring that he always had fresh water or hot tea to drink when he woke. The pot simmered constantly with a variety of vegetable broths with either chicken, or rabbit mixed in. They had debated her use of the floor as a bed, and Elyna had surprised herself by winning the discussion. Perhaps it wasn’t fair to argue with him when he was recovering, but she had a suspicion it was one of the few times she would succeed. She’d bought her bedroll back with her and slept in front of the fireplace. In comparison to nights under stormy skies and on cold winter ground, it was blissful. Malcolm had argued that she should sleep in the bed at least, but she’d disagreed, he was healing. She didn’t want to disturb him and he really needed to rest.

Elyna also knew that she had to make better decisions with her life. Kathryn had exhibited the same surprise when she’d noted the mark on Elynas forehead and so the woman had worn a hood during their time in the city, being so far away from the crowds, out here with just the animals and Malcolm for company, it was a chance to come to terms with everything that had happened and to lick her own wounds. She settled into a routine that left her attentive to the Captain, seeing that he was cared for and the bandages changed on a regular basis, and that the wound was also left to air between. The Skyrider also tended the horses, brushing down their coats, checking the small stream into their field was kept clear and flowing.
Throwing out hay for them in the mornings. One morning she rode Ember around the paddock, practicing their sideways movements, keeping the horses head straight to the fence posts as she nudged with her heels, encouraging the horse to step sideways. It was a slow process, but she was proud to make the minute improvement. Maybe Ember could be a warhorse yet.

She told herself that she wasn’t avoiding Malcolm and that she wasn’t shutting him out, but she dreaded speaking to him. At every point, she struggled to stop the words bursting out. Malcolm I’m pregnant. She screamed it in her mind at least a hundred times each trial, but she managed to hold her tongue, just and drifted into quiet to preserve her secret. Between the horses, her hawk, keeping something ready to eat at all times and filling the times when Malcolm was asleep with her sewing, Elyna kept herself busy. A distraction from the ache in her own heart, and the worsening sense of nausea. She’d thought that sickness was supposed to fade, or only being the morning? But apparently not. Apparently it could happen at any time. It took her two trials to realise that the smell of beef made her stomach turn and so she cooked as much as she could and then dried and salted the strips, putting them aside for another time.

In the pre-dawn breaks of the 19th, she discovered that ginger root in her tea made her feel almost human. As the sun rose she managed to eat more than she had the entire Season and was overwhelmed with relief, which promptly made her cry. This was ridiculous and it was also entirely her own fault she felt so alone. Malcolm wanted her, still. He’d made that clear in the depths of the Arena hell. He’d made it clear the second they’d been left alone in the house together and he’d kissed her like he’d never wanted to stop. But she had stopped him. Maybe he could forgive her for sleeping with Marcus, but she hadn’t managed to forgive herself.

Elyna collected up the bow and arrows stored neatly by the front door and slipped out. She was fortunate that there was a tree at the border of the property and she’d drawn a target on ash across the bark. She warmed the bow stave between her fingers and looked down at the Hawk. His perch had been pulled from the cage and pushed into the ground beside the paddock, he seemed to enjoy watching her work, lifting his good wing and giving a sleepy stretch. The other, still neatly wrapped and hopefully healing.

Dew coated the ground and the sky turned pink and gold in washes of painted colour. Summer was advancing, because even with the first rays of light, it was clear that this was going to be another warm and sunny day. She slipped the string over the bow and tested the draw with two fingers. The Skyrider collected an arrow and nocked it on the string. She checked that her feet were the correct distance apart and turned sideways onto the target. Ben had visited the day before and she’d let him and Malcolm talk in peace, taking the chance to ride back to the city once more and make arrangements with the Skyriders. Ben had left soon after her return, but not without a long hard look which had left her watching her feet. He’d clasped a hand on her shoulder and she’d thought he was going to say something, but he hadn’t.

Birds called from the branches of the trees, Idalos was waking up. She drew the arrow back on the string, careful not to pinch the fibres. She held her breathe, closing her right eye and watching down the shaft before she released, watching as the arrow thudded into the centre of the target. More relief. At least she was getting better at this again.

He’d walked away at the first opportunity. Elyna turned to look at the open door. He’d left her to drown again. Pulled her out of the pit and then thrown her back down it. Everything in her longed to go back to him and to curl up alongside him on the sheets. But then…but then she would have no choice but to tell him about the baby. She would start believing again that everything was okay; that she would be fine. It was a beautiful dream, but it had shattered. The Skyrider was painfully aware that she only just managing to hold herself together and a return to Malcolm…if it ended again…she didn’t know how she could live through that; and she had to. She had to be more than she was.

Elyna drew a second arrow and turned back to the target. She had to be better then she was. Better choices.

[Malcolm]

"She's avoiding me."
"She's not avoiding you, Malcolm."
"Ben, I'm telling you, she's avoiding me."
"Its a one bedroom house, how could she possibly be avoiding you?" Benjamin laughed.
"She comes in here early, changes my bandages, puts down a bowl of soup, then goes out here and feeds the animals, hunts, cooks, bakes, anything that keeps her out there and me in here. She's sleeping on the floor... I swear all she does is stitch all day, there aren't enough holes in my clothing for her to be gone that long, there aren't enough holes in all the clothing in Rynmere."
Benjamin laughed harder. "Shut up, the girl loves you, I know, I can tell."
"She has a strange way of showing it.
"Then show her."

Malcolm sat up on the bed, going over the conversation he had shared with the knight the day before. Benjamin had been appointed the title of captain, making himself available to run Malcolm's crew until the man was on his feet again, while he formed his own. He had come round seeking advice about what to look for and what made a good team. Malcolm had told him what he knew, that being a leader wasn't about finding and working with the best individuals, it was accepting what you were given and working hard to gain the team's respect so that they would be inspired to earn the same from him. For now the new captain needed to put in the work and worry about the rewards and benefits later.
He had awoken a little stiff, but such was to be expected after all the time he had spent in bed over the last few days. His wound had closed up nicely, but he would need to take it easy to ensure that it stayed that way. Elyna's care had made all the difference, and Malcolm even thought he might have put on a bit of weight since his return, a credit to the woman's cooking ability.
Malcolm got out of bed carefully and wandered into the kitchen. He pinched some cold stewed beef between his fingers and chewed until the flavour was gone before scooping up some more. Something moving outside beyond the window caught his eye, and for a time he stood there in the spot of warm, morning sunlight, watching Elyna hone her craft. She really was a vision, perhaps one he did not deserve. The Mortalborn took himself to the bathroom to wash and clean up before standing in front of the fogged up mirror with a knife, both to shave and cut the ends of his black curls away in order to trim his shaggy hair, not liking the way it tickled the back of his neck when it got this long, which left him feeling itchy. When he was done, he rinsed and dried his hair again with a towel before dressing, slowly working into a pair of trousers and a plain, white shirt which his leather tabard fit over, a little looser than he remembered it being.
On the doorstep he found his leather boots, tough and hardened by the elements. Malcolm folded the leather back and forth in an attempt to soften it before shoving his feet into them and venturing outside for the first time since he had returned to the cottage. The sun was warm on his back and there was barely any breeze today, though the air still smelt like the ocean. The Mortalborn filled his lungs, the putrid smell of the arena cells long forgotten. With blades strapped to his belt, Malcolm began the slow walk up the incline to the tree-line where he would join Elyna, measuring his steps as he drew nearer to her, trying to sneak up on the woman by avoiding any grassy tufts in favour of sun hardened patches of dirt. He waited until she had taken her shot before leaning back against one of the fence posts playfully with a dried stem of ryegrass closed between his teeth.
"You're getting better," he spoke up, expecting either a smile or a look of dread to meet his gaze when and if she turned back to do so.

Malcolm took one of his throwing blades from his belt and studied Elyna's shot and the distance her arrow had landed from the target. Hitting the tree at all, he thought, after going through everything he had would be a welcomed sight. The captain stepped forward and lifted the blade in his right hand to shoulder height before taking a shot, intent on seeing it land somewhere close to the target, of not within it. He felt rusty having gone without throwing one of the blades for a while and was disappointed to see it land below the target, well below, by at least a foot. But then, he hadn't come out here to throw knives.
"Ely...," Malcolm cooed gently, "There's something I need to tell you, can we talk?" Can you bare to look me in the eyes long enough for that at to happen? He had been half tempted to add.

The tree cast a nice shadow against the lush grass surrounding it and Malcolm gestured for the woman to join him. He got down on a knee carefully and turned his body in order to sit down without putting too much strain on his stitches, that were bound to leave nasty scars like mismatched snake bites either side of the ugly line that traced from his left side to his belly button. When Elyna moved closer, he stretched out with his legs in the sun and watched the clouds float through the sky over the ocean, like the white sails of ships across the horizon.
"Pre," he began, "my aunt, she wants me to do something on her behalf, but it will involve leaving Rynmere quite soon, as soon as I am fit to travel," he admitted and glanced sidelong at the Skyrider, "No later than the fortieth."

[Elyna]

He was such a sneaky bastard. Elyna had shot all the arrows and collected them from the tree before returning to her self made mark, the flattened grass she’d worn into a groove with her toes. It felt good to do something methodical and work on honing her skill. She lifted the bow, steadied her fingers and set the arrow once more against the string. This one had curved to the left before, she ran her fingers over the fletch, nudging them back into a line. Hopefully that would make up for her terrible shooting. She drew the string back, touched her fingers to her jaw and let loose. Watching as it thudded into the tree, above her target. She ran her fingertips down her nose, over the freckles that had come out with the sunshine. Patience, she needed to hold the draw for longer and line up the target before letting go. Reaching for the next arrow she jumped as Malcolm spoke, looking around in surprise.

He was up. He was out the house, she couldn’t help but smile. He seemed almost…normal after his ordeal. She set the bow staff against her boot so she could scratch the back of her neck with a free hand. She hoped she was getting better, “couldn’t get much worse,” she admitted.

She nodded her agreement and turned her attention to the bow, unlacing the string and letting it drop back. She checked her arrows were in their quiver and followed a few moments after to the tree. She slid her hand down the arrow she’d landed, her free fingers held in a v with the thumb around the end before she pulled it out clean. If she was going to do much more archery, she’d need a boss. Shooting straight into wood could be costly long term. She slid the final arrow back in her quiver and set it next to her bow.

Elyna looked up at the tree as he sat, filled with the sudden urge to climb the branches and be away. But she curbed the impulse and sat cross legged, her back half to the sun so she could see him clearly. The Skyrider was immediately grateful that the sunshine would at least hide some of the dismay in her expression.

So he was going to leave. Soon. She counted the trials. Twenty. The Skyrider looked down at her fingers, palms up in her lap. He wouldn’t refuse the quest of the Immortal, he couldn’t and he would never choose to. So he would leave; and she couldn’t follow. It wouldn’t be long after twenty trials that it would grow harder to hide their secret. As the seasons marched on, she wouldn’t be much help on this quest, whatever it was. Elyna swallowed, she couldn’t go. Her breathe caught in her throat but she looked up. She’d lost him again and it burnt like white hot fire in her chest. Imagine, she thought, imagine if we’d started up again…imagine if we’d really loved…so it was better she’d kept her distance. Twenty trials. She swallowed, “I’ll let my Captain know I’ll be returning to my duties by the fortieth,” she nodded.

It wouldn’t be for long though. A summer of paperwork beckoned and she nearly groaned aloud. She would have preferred a summer in the arena.

She could tell him, a voice whispered. But what could he do about it? They couldn’t change what had happened. He would still have to leave.

“Malcolm,” maybe it was Pre’s blessing that forced the words but she still struggled to say them outright. She clenched her hands into tight fists till they turned white.

“Malcolm, I’m pregnant.”

[Malcolm]

Sometime ago, he was sure, they had had this conversation, maybe over a drink or in the dark, when it seemed they were the only two awake while the rest of the world lay sleeping. Elyna was using Moseke Mist, a well known, well trusted contraceptive that had a very high success rate when used correctly, when taken responsibly; there was no way, she had promised him with a giggle, his lips against her thigh, that she would fall pregnant.
His reasons back then had not been selfish, but rather selfless, he knew what happened to bastards, how they were treated, and their noble mothers, no man in his right mind would seek her hand now, not a noble one at least. Her parents would never let her hear the end of it, their daughter, one of the first of her name, pregnant, to whom, for what reason? There was no excuse, at least none they would ever accept. Malcolm felt the blood drain from his face, his belly suddenly empty, and yet full with guilt, was the child his, why else would she tell him, or was this the reason she had been avoiding him, it was someone else's?
"Mine?" It seemed the only logical question to ask, but what if it was his, and what if it wasn't?

The Mortalborn mulled over the possibilities and their options. She was keeping the child, she wouldn't have told him otherwise. Malcolm plucked the string of grass from between his lips and twisted it between finger and thumb, rolling it back and forth, her nod had quashed his suspicions. The Burhan's weren't going to allow their daughter to marry a slave, even if he was a free man, he had been accused of murdering his wife and attempting to poison his sons, there was no way he would be welcomed with open arms. Well fuck them, and fuck tradition, he thought.
"Then let us get married," he told her, wearing the first smile since she had parted with the news. "Today, tomorrow, ten trials from now." Malcolm bit his lower lip, brow furrowed, it wasn't fair for him to fill her head with crazy notions. "I love you, Elyna," he shook his head as if to ask her silently to dismiss anything that he had just said. "I'll support you, whatever you choose," and he meant it, if she decided to marry Marcus, he would respect her wishes, send money from afar, be ready to drop everything at short notice if she summoned him home.

[Elyna]

Elyna didn’t know what she was expecting from Malcolm, his question stung and she flinched before giving her nod. He had a right to ask and a right to be suspicious, but it still hurt, “I think…I think it was Krome,” she could barely lift her eyes to his jaw before she dropped them again. She still didn’t exactly understand how it had happened, she was always so careful. The Skyrider reached up, pulling a twist of hair between her fingers to curl. She did suspect that perhaps something had happened between the poison and Mal’s absorption of her wounds, but they would never know for certain and it didn’t really matter.

She felt the urge to tell him everything, how it hadn’t been the poison that had made her so weak, how she’d been so sick for the last of the season and how she was so afraid that she’d already made terrible errors, without knowing. But she held her tongue to give him time to think. Calm under pressure, that was Malcolm. Elyna shifted in her seat to press her back to the tree instead.

Let us get married, she stared at him wide-eyed for a moment, heart threatening to stop. Duty. She pulled her bottom lip beneath her teeth and shook her head. Damned emotions, the tears were back and she looked down again, watching the grass moving in the light breeze, until the danger had passed. Before she could respond, he rescinded his offer and she wasn’t sure which hurt most. The fact that he would marry her out of duty, or that he wouldn’t. The salt rubbed into the wound were the words she’d been desperate to hear. Tarnished by the circumstance they’d been revealed by.

All those trials, agonising over her decision, and he’d suddenly made things clear and almost easy, “I’ll be fine Malcolm,” she nodded with more resolve than she felt and stood up, using the tree for balance.

She wasn’t going to marry Marcus. She wasn’t going to marry Malcolm. She would tell her parents about the baby and take the consequences; even if it meant even more goodbyes. Elyna straightened and watched one of the larger ships setting sail over the ocean. The noblewoman would be alone, but then…she was always alone. Decided she felt lighter and looked down at the Mortalborn.

“I love you.”

[Malcolm]

Malcolm got to his feet, winced at the pain in his side and looked anywhere but into the woman's eyes. He had thrown the idea out there, a baited hook in a the stream, hoping to pull in a fish, his grand prize, but self-preservation had seen him snatch the offer back in fear of it being rejected outright; at least this way he could convince himself that she would never have gone for such an idea in the first place. This had been why she wouldn't share a bed with him, why she found it so difficult to look at him, to speak to him.
"Why did you come find me, Elyna? Was it too hard to leave me to die? Then you wouldn't have to worry about your fucking fairytale having any loose ends!"

She had dragged him from his death bed and cleaned him up, bathed him, fed him, why? To make sure he was strong enough to withstand the news, something she couldn't just take to her grave, one they would park right next to her noble husband, whoever he ended up being. He had been right, his longevity somehow made him all the more expendable. Their happy ever after would only ever be his happy ever after in her eyes, because a woman was never happy unless she knew he was taking her man to the grave with her, that this somehow Mande him her's and only her's.
"Pre's right," he shook his head. His destiny was not to follow in his father's footsteps, to fall prey to temptation time and time again with these mortals. Really he should thank Elyna, because she had made his decision to leave even easier.
"I hope the little bastard reminds you that you would rather be miserable with your honour, than happy with my freedom."

He balled his fists and snapped all of the sudden, reaching for his knife to take it from the trunk of the tree where it had landed. The blade was sheathed quickly as Malcolm made for the house, only to realise there was nothing in there that he wanted if he couldn't share it with Elyna. He veered off towards the paddock and took his saddle from where it had been left on top of the wooden fence, and whistled to the chestnut gelding, who after a few days without an outing, galloped over, fired up and ready to go, a lot like his rider. The Mortalborn tightened the girth strap and fixed the length of the stirrups along with the bridle before pulling himself up into the saddle, something that took an extra attempt or three to achieve than it usually did.
He looked back at the Skyrider and the cottage on the hill and felt a strange, new wave of disappointment wash over him, how did he keep getting it so wrong? A sharp kick to the horse's sides and a tug of the reins saw the animal spin to face the direction of the capital where he could rent a room until he was well enough to leave. Malcolm steered his horse towards the road, too angry and frustrated to acknowledge the pain in his side, or maybe just too stupid to care.

[Elyna]

This was also not the reaction to her admission of love, that the Skyrider had been expecting, or somewhere deeply hidden, hoping for. So much for supporting her, no matter what she chose. She was so stunned by the abuse that followed that she stood, motionless and robbed of breath as he spun to leave. She wasn’t going to cry over Malcolm Krome anymore. The noblewoman was furious and he was running away. Just like at the docks. The first opportunity he was given and he was gone, dust on his heels. The breeze picked up and tugged at her hair and shirt as she stood, fists clenched. It was a good thing he’d run away, she was going to kill him herself.

By the time he turned his horse to the road, she was running down the hill, legs carrying her with a strength born of adrenaline. She wasn’t a complete idiot so she collected a blanket and Embers bridle from the hook and locked the door to the house. Ember shuffled with restless energy as Elyna approached and the woman could have sworn her horse was looking longingly after the Gelding. Malcolm had got a head start and so she threw the blanket over the horses back and slipped the halter on, casting the reins over the long bay neck.
It was easy enough to mount and without wasting another breathe she let the horse go. Long healthy legs carrying the mare after her paddock mate. It was a race and Ember was nothing if not competitive.

He was such an idiot and she cursed him as she rode, still angry, still shaking with fury as the man and horse came into sight over the rise. But he was injured, and she wasn’t and she was a Skyrider. Fear had held the woman in check for too long and she lent forward over Embers neck, using her legs to lift herself and allow the horse to gallop headlong after the pair. This was something like flying. The ground was far too close for comfort, but she focused instead on Malcolms back, determined not to let him out of her sight.

Ember thundered down the track and Elyna shouted Malcolms name after him. Realising as her own mount gained on the pair, that she had no idea what she was going to say to him. He was such an idiot and she hated him for the pain he put himself through, those stitches wouldn't take rough treatment. Mostly though, she hated him for leaving her, again.

[Malcolm]

As the horse thundered along the road, taking the twists and turns through the scattered trees with ease, Malcolm felt a sharp pain shoot through his side, causing him to pull on the reins in order to slow the animal as he sat back in the saddle and filled his lungs, breathless, unsure if it was the pain, the panic, or a mix of the two that had forced him to stop and grow short of breath. He had the gelding come to a slow halt at the edge of the road and cautiously climbed down, the sound of Elyna's horse in the distance, fast approaching.
Malcolm pulled the reins over his horse's head and led the animal in the direction of the city on foot, his right hand clutching his left side, while the other hand was wrapped up in the reins. He carried on, even as she hissed and shouted at him, he had hurt her, such was her right, but he was done trying to decipher the puzzle that was Elyna Burhan.
"Go home, Elyna," he growled, his discomfort evident in his tone of voice. Malcolm didn't think his wound had reopened, but he was certainly experiencing a lot of pain.

When the noble refused to give up her chase, he turned and waved his arms at her horse to see the animal back up and perhaps think twice about getting any closer. "You can't have both," he shook his head at her, "you can't please your family and keep me too, you pick one or the other, I especially will not share you with my son, Elyna, believe it or not I do draw the line there." He was being selfish and he knew it, their child would have a much better life growing up in the lap of luxury that the noble house could provide, but he couldn't help his desire, he wanted Elyna, needed her, loved her.
"Go home," he stopped in the road, arms limp at his sides and head hung. Malcolm closed his eyes and wished that she had left him in the cells, it would have been all over by now, there would be nothing left to argue about except whether to burn or bury his body.

[Elyna]

The waving of his arms saw Ember panic and sit back on her hind legs, kicking out. Elyna with her own arms wrapped around the horses neck, clung to safety and let out a panicked lungful of air as animal settled all four hooves back on the ground. She slid to the side and dropped onto shaking legs. All the adrenaline coursed through her veins and she gave into the temptation that came up far too often in the mans’ company. She let the reins drop from her hands and marched forward toward him. Elyna shoved at his shoulders, before she could punch him.

“I KNOW!” Her eyes were burning copper and she stepped forward to push him, “shut up Malcolm! I know, I know what my choices are. You’re such an asshole,” she stopped pushing him and remained, fists clenching and unclenching with fury.

“You’re it. You. I am yours,” she fought to keep her voice steady and for the syllables to ring true and clear, “that is the truth, and you’re all I want. But you run away…and you left me.” it was her turn to take a step back, feet grating on the loose shingle of the path and dragging it beneath her boots.

“Now you’re going to do it again…you’re going to leave and that’s- that’s what everyone does. I-I can’t come with you and you can’t stay. But you’re it Malcolm...I’m home with you. But if your determined to be such a fucking pigheaded moron and open those stitches, I swear I'll kill you myself," there she was, ranging between love and hate. It was such a fine and delicately balanced line. She bent down to collect one the small pebbles and threw it at him.

"You break your promises as quickly as you make them!" She bent to pick up another stone and Ember skittered back, the reins dancing just out of her reach as she tried to grab at them. Elyna turned to collect her horse before spinning back once more. She couldn't help the nagging sensation and the bitter jealousy that told her, that when Vanessa had broken such news to him, his reaction had been better.

[Malcolm]

The Mortalborn was furious and shoved Elyna back when she lay her hands on him to offer the same, he wasn't as strong as her, but it was no halfhearted push. When she started pelting rocks and stones at him, he did his best to dodge them, a difficult task at such close range.
"I'm an asshole?" He repeated her words. "How long have you kept this from me, Elyna!?" Malcolm kicked one of her rocks where it fell to take his frustration out on anything but her. "You'll be all right, that's what you said! What, one of your options rides away into the sunset and you're suddenly not!? Do you realise the mountain of shit I have dug through to try and get you to communicate with me honestly? I'm fighting a losing battle here! The more I strip away, the more you shovel back onto the pile behind my back!"

He turned and walked away from her but didn't get very far before he stopped and looked back, his hard, determined resolve softening noticeably along with his tone of voice. "I'm getting on a ship in twenty trials and I have no return date, I could be gone five seasons or five arcs for all I know," he was being logical and the woman may not have realised it but he was just as afraid of getting hurt as she was. "You said you would be all right because you know the choice you have to make to insure that our child has a home, that you get to keep your family, your lifestyle, and maybe if I ever return, part of you will still have me, but Elyna, the choice should be so easy and it's not, I'm going to the city, I'm renting a room and tomorrow I'll come home with the money I don't need to get me to wherever I'm going and pay you back for the cost of the fine, and then I'm going to say goodbye, not because I'm just another person who has chosen to leave you behind, but because I looked into your eyes and I saw the fear my offer inspired, the hesitation, the guilt..."

The Mortalborn took up his horse's reins and climbed back up into the saddle. "You can have the house, or you can sell the house, I don't care, it was always intended for you. I'll see you in the morning, and for seven's sake, sleep on the fucking bed would you? Pregnant with my child and you would rather sleep on the floor than lie next to me?" His features contorted with mild disgust, what had he done to put so much distance between them in such a short time?

Malcolm nudged the gelding's sides and this time saw the animal maintain a slow walk down the road into the darkness. Love and hate wasn't a fine line, it was golden chalice of wine, sometimes it was sweet, and other times, there was only poison. The exchange had left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he knew it was love, why else would he care so much, why else would he hand over everything he owned without so much as blinking an eye? She was a fool if she believed anything else.