280Chapter 35... Epilogue: Some ends get tied up. Not all, but hopefully the ones that are most annoying...
ALL THE WRONG REASONS
An end and a beginning
If anyone had asked him how he did it, he wouldn't have been able to explain. But there he was, not alone yet all by himself, face to face to the one person he didn't want to be without.
"Why?"
"Why what?" He played dumb, if only because he didn't know how to answer the question that he'd inferred.
Freyl refused to let him off the hook. "Why did you do something so stupid?" he asked, in a voice that was deliberately harsh to hide the tremor that threatened to betray him.
Stupid. The word stung more than it should have. He shrugged. "Because I'm a fool, probably." A sudden breeze whipped the end of his braid across his face, providing an excuse for him to wipe his face, and along with that, his eyes.
"I'm sorry." The apology was fast and anxious. "I'm r—…" The treacherous quaver surfaced at last, but he pushed on regardless. "I'm really glad you're here."
Myka exhaled slowly. The lichs nearest to him seemed to turn towards him with some semblance of interest... but only for a moment. Before long, every eye in the clearing, whether seeing or not, was once again set on Freyl.
They continued to stare at each other across that distance that was so small—a tall man could just about lie down with his arms stretched out above his head in the space—and yet so unbreachable.
"What I said about love and responsibility…" He raised horrified hands to his mouth, but it was too late to call back the words that he'd blurted out.
When he didn't continue, Freyl echoed his words thoughtfully. "Love and responsibility..." A bitter smile touched his lips briefly as he recalled how he'd misunderstood the healer. "You said you'll take responsibility for me."
Myka hadn't really said that, but he ignored how he'd been misquoted and said instead, "I used the wrong word." He straightened his back, steadying his stance if not his voice. "I should have said, 'If you love someone'."
"Myka." Incredulity fought with hope in the sounds of his name.
"If you love someone," the healer repeated; it wasn't the first time he'd said that, but this time, it wasn't the same word anymore; not mere sayang but damba. "If you love someone," he said yet again, so loudly that it was almost a shout, "you should know when to let go."
"Myka." The same two sounds, only they were filled now with pain-filled resignation where hope had been extinguished.
"And," the healer added, "when to hold on."
Without ever having made the decision to do so, Freyl was already in motion, scattering lichs before him like the bow of a ship in a weed-filled river as he made his way towards Myka.
"Even when it's the stupidest thing in the world to do," Myka finished as the Firstborn reached him.
"Myka." It seemed he could say nothing else but that name, but yet again they were filled with a new emotion, one that burned hot and instigated rash acts.
Myka wasn't sure what to make of this, so he asked another question. "You're not angry that I came, are you?"
"Absolutely." It was an unpromising answer. "I am furious."
Myka closed his eyes. He felt Freyl's hands on his shoulders moving menacingly inwards.
"Livid."
He felt those hands encircling his neck, as if he was about to be strangled. He kept his eyes closed, with the just the smallest of winches.
"I am so enraged..." Fingers took up position. "That it makes me want to do something really terrible to you."
The healer didn't resist. And then there was something pressing on his mouth, a feeling that he recognised with a spurt of shock and excitement.
What am I doing?
Freyl froze suddenly when his rational self caught up at last with the rest of his body. He must have lost his mind, assaulting Myka like this.
"Freyl." It was more a strangled gasp than a proper word, but it said everything the Firstborn needed to know about Myka's response to that.
He let himself sink once more into the moment. The smell of herbs and medicine enveloped him. The taste of spice made his tongue tingle. And when he found hands inside his shirt, making tingly trails up his chest and down his belly, something stirred within him that he hadn't planned for—yet didn't completely surprise him—but still he hesitated. But the last shreds of doubt went up in flames when he pulled Myka by the waist closer to himself; there was no question about it… they both wanted the same thing.
And yet...
heiSyOUrs
He tightened his grip; Myka mistook the gesture for urgency and leaned with growing fervour into the embrace.
TaKEhiMbutCoMetoMe
Freyl jerked back.
A long moment of shocked silence was broken by Myka's confused "F-Freyl...?"
He was still holding on to the healer. He exhaled slowly, but didn't let him go. "There are... I mean..." he choked, "Them."
It was a clumsy lie, but effective. Myka shuddered, and muttered an embarrassed apology.
"Don't!" he said, more sharply than he'd meant to. "You've done nothing wrong."
Myka started on a hesitant explanation, but he pulled him close again, and smothered the words out of him.
"I don't need to know why," he whispered. "You're already here."
heIsheReALLyoursTAKEhim
You're here... and I need to keep you safe.
RIPeanDwiLLIngYouRStoEnjoy
Safe from me.
They both slid to the ground, still holding on to each other. It was impossible not to look at their ring of silent observers. Now that Myka was by Freyl's side, the creatures no longer seemed interested in attacking him. They did nothing save continue to stare at them in that unnerving state of disinterest yet menace.
COmeTOmeCOMEtomEcomEcOmecoME
He felt like screaming, but he knew that there was only one way to keep the voice quiet. He reflected grimly that he wasn't about to take up its suggestions on what to do to Myka, but he could move where it wanted him to go. Apart from this, he knew nothing at all. Not where the destination was, or who it was that wanted him there, or what awaited him when he finally got there.
.
.
.
His brooding was abruptly interrupted. Myka was in his lap, giving him a kiss that made up for its lack of finesse with abundant passion. When at last they broke apart, he stared in astonishment at the healer, flushed, bright-eyed, wearing a look of determined defiance he had never seen before on his face.
"I love you, Freyl."
.
.
.
And this time, he used that one word for love that he had never used before.
.
.
.
I have no better answers than before. But at least I know I wouldn't be facing this alone.
There you go, a not so sad ending. And if I get a sequel out for this, I hope you'll join me for the ride!