"Arianne?," he gasped after a moment, "Gods ..."

He found her huddled in the corner, and realized she must have been there the entire time. "Melda? Vesse? Are you alright?" Crouching down he gathered his wife to him, "I'm sorry ... I'm sorry melda."

"No! Don't touch me. Don't..." There was an hysterical note in her voice as she tried to push him away, flinching back from his touch. "Just leave me alone... please..." Her tone became a broken whisper, "I just want to be left alone."

Her heart and soul felt as if they had been broken into a hundred pieces, like shards of glass with edges that cut and wounded. Ro's very presence seemed to disturb the fragments, causing them to slice anew into the most private parts of her soul that were already bleeding from before. Pain seemed to fill her world until there was no room for anything else. How could she endure this any more? All she wanted was an end.

"Shhh." It was rather unfair, Ro outmatched her in size and strength, giving Silverthorn no choice but to come into his arms. He held her fast to his chest and kissed the top of her head, "You don't mean that. Don't do this Arianne. I love you ... I think you've forgotten how much. Do you think any of this has been easy? To see you hurting and not being able to do anything about it? Can't you see that half of what has been driving me mad was my inability to protect you from the pain? Gods woman ... you're my wife, my heart, my soul. I'm not about to walk away."

Fear had as much a grip on him as he did on Silverthorn. To lose her now ... it would have been easier had she killed herself. He saw the blood on her arm, the dagger across the room. If she had done it ... they would have at least died together. That was easier to bear than this ... whatever it was.

"What if I want you to? What if I want you to just let me go?" Silverthorn was still struggling to escape his embrace until, frustrated and upset, she collapsed into his arms. Her forehead rested against his shoulder as silent tears ran down her cheeks. "Let me go... please. I can't bear this any more" she whispered, "it hurts so much that I can't even breathe. I just want it to stop. That's all."

"I can't," he said simply, "I can't let you go. I promised forever and I meant it. If you won't fight for us, I'll do it for us both. Give me the pain Arianne, let it go. Stay with me or help me open the door to Tenobrous. If I'm going to be in hell, it might as well be literal. I'd rather be him than be me without you."

Ro meant every word, he couldn't handle the pain of loss again. He had screwed up one to many times and perhaps lost the thing that mattered most to him. Without Silverthorn he wouldn't be any good to anyone ... except perhaps Samara.

It wasn't that Silverthorn wouldn't fight, but that she simply couldn't fight any more. She had nothing left to fight with. Broken and defeated she gave up the struggle. "What use are your promises?" the dark-haired elf said in a dead voice, "when they can be broken so easily. Go or stay. It makes no difference to me any more."

Deep inside a small voice protested that this was a lie. That it would always matter to her. But it was drowned by the tide of weary depression.

"You're right. I'm a liar. Obivously I slept with Ghet all of my own violition and got her pregnant just to hurt you," he ground out, "Damn it Arianne, are you so perfect that you've never been forced into a situation not of your own making? Never involuntarily broken a promise?"

He released his grip on Silverthorn and cupped her face in his hands, forcing his wife to look up at him. "I didn't DO this. I didn't make the choice. But I can't walk away from the responsibility it left me with. You have damned me for actions that either I didn't do, or can't help without killing myself. I LOVE you Arianne. Isn't that enough? Is there no forgiveness in your heart?"

"What is love without trust?" Silverthorn whispered, and in her eyes was the bitter truth - that she wasn't sure if she did trust him anymore. "If it was just the one occasion then maybe I could say that it didn't matter, but it isn't just the once is it. How many times have you gone back on your word now? How many times will you insist that you understand and yet, when it comes down to it, you make no effort to even try? How many times will what you want take precedence over everything else, even at the expense of our relationship?"

She let her gaze drop, her lashes shielding her expression from view, "I am not perfect, gods know that I am not, but I am tired of being made to feel as if whatever I do it's wrong, that my feelings are of such little importance that you don't even bother taking them into consideration any more, I'm tired of being expected to accept things that I don't like or having to do things I don't want to do purely because it's what you want and then being told I'm selfish on the occasions when I refuse. I am just... tired. I can't do this any more. I'm not strong enough."

Deep inside lay a core of shame that burned through her. She was ashamed of the fact that she hadn't been able to cope, that she simply hadn't been strong enough.

Y’Roden tensed, the depths of his emerald eyes shadowing with pain. “Pardon? You think I haven’t put your feelings first? What the hell did you think the past few months have been all about? I stayed home, I didn’t go when I felt my son trying to come into the world. I was going to let him start out life traumatized because I put your feelings first Arianne. THAT is what I was willing to do because I DID put your feelings first. You told me to go because YOU couldn’t handle watching me in pain anymore. What, you thought that was an act? That I put myself through hell for the fun of it? It almost killed me! It almost killed Ghet and Rhagi!”

There was anger in his eyes now, mingling with the pain and bleeding crimson into his iris. “I question who it was that didn’t take the other’s feelings into question. You’re right, what IS love without trust? I trusted you! I trusted you with my heart and my soul! I’ve let you in where no one else has gone, I’ve trusted you with my pain and my shame. Now you put me into question for wanting what was best for my son?” He suddenly let go and stood up, shoving away to lean hard against the wall. His eyes were fairly glowing with rage and it was taking everything he had to keep the demon at bay. “Fine, I’ll do whatever you want, because in case you haven’t NOTICED, that is what I ALWAYS do!!”

His anger washed over her in a flood, shattering her already fragile emotions still further. Head bowed, the elf simply huddled on the floor and let him rage. Part of her felt that she deserved it. Perhaps she wasn't good enough? It wasn't as if she hadn't already doubted that she was worthy of being loved after all. She had walked out on Luis and Fionna, hadn't she? And Aidan had left because of something in her that he couldn't accept. If the breakup of those relationships was her fault then why shouldn't this be too?

She didn't even have the energy to cry any more. The tears stuck in her chest, choking her. Jade green eyes that were dull and glazed with pain and regret gazed at the wound on her wrist. The blood had dried now to a dark reddish-brown. It wouldn't take much to turn it to crimson though. A bitter, humourless laugh that sounded like broken glass escaped her lips. "Then all I ask is that you pass me the knife back" she said.

He moved without thinking, crossing the room to pick up the blade and retrace his steps to Silverthorn. Dropping to his knees the half-elf grabbed his wife by the wrist and slapped the hilt into her hands before forcing her fingers closed around it. "Why don't you just take a more direct route," he asked. Pulling her hand up he brought the point of the dagger towards himself and leaned forward, driving the tip of it a good inch into his chest without flinching.

Blood welled around cold steel, the scent of Aethyr charging the air. He had peirced an old wound, though not as deep, and he was just as willing to go this time as he had been the last. "If you want to kill me do it this way. There is more honour in it." His eyes softened a little, "I love you ... just do it."

The expression in Silverthorn's eyes was one of despair and hopelessness. "I never wanted to kill you" she whispered, "that's why I stopped when..." She glanced again at the wound on her wrist. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. She couldn't see any way out. She loved him more than life. How could she take him with her? and yet, how could she keep living like this?

The dark-haired elf couldn't seem to think straight these days. It was like being lost in the fog with all the landmarks shifting and changing. Each new problem had just seemed to compound the problem. Every time it was just a little harder to get back on her feet again until finally she hadn't been able to at all.

"Forgive me" she whispered, her gaze meet Ro's, and she eased back on the dagger that pierced his chest. Then, before he could stop her, the blade slashed downwards, slicing through her wrist. Blood cascaded in scarlet streams down her arm. It was almost pretty she thought, watching as her life flowed out of her in a kind of numb fascination.

"Dammit!" It wasn't the first time Y'Roden had dealt with an hysterical, suicidal woman. Almost reflexively he tore open her fingers and yanked the dagger out of her hand. Tossing it across the room he swore again and covered the wound with his palm. Suddenly it was his blood that was spilling instead of Silverthorn's, but he didn't seem to notice.

Shoving to his feet the half-elf dragged his wife with him, pinning her helpless against the wall as deft fingers relieved the woman of her weaponry. He had married a Mercenary, and the process reminded him of emptying an armory. "Gods dammit woman, that was just stupid. I'm not going to let you kill yourself."

The dark-haired elf's breath came in harsh sobs, the tears she was not able to shed burning the backs of her eyes. Her whole body seemed to be shaking and it was only her husband's grip on her that was keeping her on her feet. Why was it that she felt so cold? Icy fingers seemed to clutch at her heart and soul, the only heat coming from the blood that stained her skin.

"Please..." she begged in a broken whisper. " I can't..."

"Yes you can," Ro growled, "And you will." Words he had said to someone else ... what seemed ages ago. How the hell did his life keep running in circles like this? Mechanically he removed his wife's clothing and lifted her into his arms, carrying her over to the bed. Laying her down he brought the coverlet up around her, "You will."

The half-elf's eyes were a dull green as he started scouring the room, removing every bit of weaponry they kept there. Giving both of their natures it was a long and rather complicated process of search and retrieval.

Silverthorn turned and buried her face in the pillow. Fine tremors ran through her constantly still but any further protests had died within her. She did not have the energy to fight him and so she simply lay there. He could do with her as he wished, she did not care what happened to her any more. The numb feeling inside spread, chilling her to the bone. The elf was barely aware of Ro moving around the room.

The last of the weapons locked away Ro turned his attention back to Thorn. He was dry by now, not that it was the first thing on his mind when he sat down on the bed. This woman was his wife ... but suddenly she was a stranger. He was at a loss for what to do, how to reach her, and it frightened him. There was no one he could turn to anymore without breaking Silverthorn's trust.

"Arianne," he said softly, "Please look at me."

Through the fog that clouded her mind his words slowly filtered through but it took a moment for them to register. Her first instinct was to ignore him, to shut him out. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? She knew this man though, knew how persistent he could be, and a struggle was beyond her at this present time.

Slowly her head turned. A dull, lifeless gaze met his. Raven-dark hair swirled untidily out over the pillow, framing features that were far too pale. She did not speak, instead she merely looked at him and waited.

Gentle fingers brushed a stray lock of raven hair away from Silverthorn's face and Ro sighed. "Aminmela lle, Arianne. I know you love me too. I'm not letting you die, I'm not letting you leave. I've tried to put you first in everything I do, but I'm not perfect. I make mistakes. We all do."

"I've never meant to hurt you, quite the opposite in fact. I would have been happier if it had just been us for the rest of our lives. But I can't change what happened, no matter how much I want too. Alot of people were hurt over something beyond all of our control. I know that hurt isn't going to go away, my son certainly isn't. But wishing it all away or trying to take your life isn't the answer. That isn't the Arianne I know. My wife is stronger than that."

The shame she felt inside flickered back into life at his words. Her dark lashes dropped, shielding his gaze from him. Guilt ran through her as she realised how much she must be hurting him. She had tried so hard not to do that, to just keep going no matter what, but in the end she had failed. "And if she's not?" The words were little more than a breath of sound.

"She is," Ro insisted. The half-elf took his wife's hand in his and kissed her knuckles before leaning his forehead against them. "She is." He was tired, he was emotionally wrecked, but there was no way he was letting go. Lifting his head he leaned down and kissed her cheek, "Sleep now. I'll be right here when you wake up."

"I'm sorry" Silverthorn whispered. Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at him with a guilt-ridden expression. "I never meant to hurt you. I just..." She sighed. Exhaustion tugged at her, dragging her down into the black oblivion of sleep and, too tired to resist, she let it take her. Dark lashes drifted shut to form delicate crescents against the pale skin of her cheeks. Later... it could all be dealt with later...

All the strength seemed to go out of Ro when sleep claimed his wife. He sat there for awhile, simply watching her sleep ... wondering where everything had gone so wrong. Then pushing himself up off of the bed he made his way over to an old trunk, tossing it open and rifling through it. There were a few old shirts, a crystal or two, a wedding band, fragments of a silver brooch, a braided lock of red hair, a baby rattle, the odd dragon scale and various other sundry items. It was a brandy flask he came up with in the end, the original. Dented and tarnished, but still as enchanted as ever.

Letting the lid close the half-elf seated himself on top of it and took a long pull of brandy. He could see the bed from where he was seated, so he would know if she woke up.

There were those that thought Ro was a drunk. The honest reality was, it took a great deal more than fine brandy to manage that. The sweet alcohol only managed to take the edge off his moods and ease the pain a little. He would never touch anything that would risk him losing complete control. That would give the Demon an opening, a chance to come through. It was the Brandy that kept the thing at bay, being numb didn't trigger its presence ... being numb was exactly what it didn't want.

For several hours Silverthorn slept the sleep of true exhaustion. It had been many months since she had slept properly, stress having taken that ability from her as much it had her appetite. She barely moved at all, sunk too far into the black oblivion even for any nightmares to plague her.

Eventually though even she had to wake. Slowly she began to surface, her eyelashes flickering as she stirred restlessly beneath the coverlet. Awareness filtered through gradually - the aching sensation that had sunk deep into her bones, the dull headache that came after too many tears had been shed and a numb depression of the spirit. Finally the elf became aware of the sensation of being watched.

Her head turned slowly on the pillow, her gaze landing eventually on her husband. He sat on top of a trunk, an old battered brandy flask in one hand. A pang of guilt and regret struck her heart. He looked so tired and worn. How had it come to this? Their love had seemed so strong that she had thought that it could survive anything, weather any storm, and now... She couldn't help but wonder if she had been wrong in that assumption.

He'd not moved, not once. A numb sensation had settled in after awhile, the slow burn of brandy easing away the pain. "'Quel amrun Vesse," he murmured as his wife's gaze found him. "Mela en’ coiamin." Glazed emerald eyes closed for a moment as the tipped the flask up, taking a long pull before he lowered it again.

"Malia ten’ yulna, vasa? Hoonnya no' tarat?"

Involuntarily Silverthorn winced, her eyes closing against the weary pain she heard in his voice. She wasn't sure she had the strength for this. The impulse to harm herself may have faded slightly but the soul-deep weariness had not lessened any. The events of the past months had used up all the reserves of strength that she possessed and the elf was now essentially running on empty.

With painful slowness she began to slide out of bed. Her whole body seemed to ache, her muscles protesting her every move with dull twinges of pain. It seemed to take forever to swing her feet out from beneath the coverlet and on to the floor. Her jade green gaze fixed on her hands as she took a shaky breath. "I'm sorry" she said softly, unable to think of anything else to say.

"For what?" The half-elf shrugged, "You were just being honest, right? Dying is preferrable to being with me. You are not the first woman to feel that way. Trust me." A rather hysterical laugh shook Ro's chest, "Me, myself and I are not easy to live with. In fact, it can be Hell."

Pushing to his feet the Prince crossed the room and dropped himself at Silverthorn's feet. "I told you, from the beginning. I'm not perfect, and it is not just me you are getting. This thing in my soul will not rest until it has destroyed everything and anything that I love. It has already driven a wedge into our Marriage, and if it gets another chance it will do it again. It will try to hurt you by default, or just kill you. Every day ... every forty eight hours of it is a struggle, I fight with this, I keep it at bay. I do it for you, I do it for my children. I'm beginning to realize that I might have made a mistake. Daring to love anyone at all, to have children of my own. It gives him tools to use against me."

Letting his head drop on Silverthorn's knees he shuddered, "I should have just left you all alone. Then no one would be in pain but me ... and I could have dealt with that."

"Oh love" Silverthorn whispered, one hand lifting to brush gently over his hair. There was a faint tremor in the fingers that made the instinctive gesture of comfort. Sorrow was etched deep into her expression. "What are we doing to each other? I never meant..." The dark-haired elf's voice cracked. "I'm sorry, so very sorry. I'm sorry that I wasn't stronger, that I couldn't cope. I did try. I tried so very hard." A sob caught in her throat.

"Shhh," Ro whispered, though he didn't lift his head. "It isn't your fault. No one should be expected to deal with what I put you through. I can't blame you for wanting to leave. Hells, I'd leave me too if I could. Unfortunatly I'm sort of stuck. I may have gotten out of Tenobrous, but Hell came with me. Why should I expect you, or any other woman for that matter, to live with it too? I can't guarantee that it won't get out again, that it won't hurt someone."

A tear scalded Silverthorn's thigh before he could stop it and the half-elf's shoulders shook. "You have your own Demons ... I know. If it is easier for you to leave me ... how can I stand in your way?"

Silverthorn's heart cracked at his words. The pain she felt inside was almost indescribable, a scalding surge of emotion that carved its way through her soul. Her fingers tightened convulsively in his hair as she started to shake. "Is..." Tears choked her. "Is that what you want?"

How could she blame him if he wanted to be free of her after all that she had put him through? If he didn't have to deal with her mess it would be so much easier for him after all. He could find someone better than she was, who didn't always seem to cause more problems or make things worse. The fact that the idea of him with someone else hurt so much she could hardly breathe was irrelevant.

"No." The word seemed cracked... somehow broken. "But what I want isn't important. It isn't about me. It is about you, about what you want and need." He lifted his head, ignoring the slight pain as Silverthorn's fingers pulled his hair. "Gods Arianne, you would rather slit your wrist than be with me. I think that says alot, don't you?"

He reached up and cupped her face between his hands, "I love you, more than I have ever loved anyone. I can't stand to see you in pain; and here I am, the source of it."

Tears fell unchecked down the elf's cheeks. She didn't know what to do. "It wasn't you" she managed to say in between sobs, the words thick with pain and anguish. "It was... everything."

She couldn't think how to explain, how to make him understand. She hadn't been able to do so for months and it was that lack of understanding, as much as anything else, that had finally resulted in her cracking under the strain. In the end it had just seemed easier to be free of the slow torture her life had become. "I love you."

Those three little words wound their way into Y'Roden's heart and he gave a shuddering sigh. His fingers were already brushing away Silverthorn's tears as he got to his feet. Settling onto the bed beside her the half-elf pulled his wife into his lap and wrapped his arms around her. "I love you too."

Kissing the top of the dark-haired elf's head Ro closed his eyes and held her to his chest in an almost crushing grip. He had been truly terrified that she would take the opportunity and bolt. The Prince would not have blamed her ... not for a second.

Slowly he let his soul surround hers, a slow orbit of emerald green soothing the pulsing silver that was Arianne. "I'm sorry .... I'm so sorry you are hurting. Just trust me please, my love ... my soul. Gods, please let me in, let me shelter you from the pain."

Shaking, Silverthorn buried her face against Ro's shoulder as all the tears she had not allowed to fall until now ran down her cheeks. The warmth and strength of his arms around her eased some of the pain conjured by his earlier words, his presence anchoring her to reality as at some point during the storm of convulsive sobs she began to talk. As if a dam had been breached inside of her all of the things she had been bottling up until now came pouring out in a choked, tear-filled voice. She had tried so hard to hide most of what she was feeling because she hadn't wanted to hurt him but she couldn't hide it anymore.

Without lifting her head the dark-haired elf described how much the knowledge that Ghet was pregnant had hurt, that despite the fact that she knew rationally that it was not his fault it had still felt like a betrayal. She told him how frightened she had been, all the fears and insecurities that she had known were stupid but that she couldn't help feeling nonetheless. He had always been so insistent on keeping his friendship with the redhead and yet in doing so they had both managed to make her feel like an unwanted outsider. Whenever any of the clashes happened between the three of them it always seemed that she was the one being blamed, that it was always her behaviour that was seen as the root of the problem. It was as if they were saying to her that it was okay for them to be themselves without thinking about how their behaviour might seem to others but that as soon as she did so it was wrong. In the end it had begun to feel as if what should have been a relationship between a couple had become a trio as the bonds between him and Ghet got stronger. The knowledge that there was going to be a child was then just too much. A permanent, lifelong tie had been forged and there was nothing she could do about it.

As the months went on it had started to feel as his unborn son was the only thing he cared about. He was fighting so hard to keep hold of him that he didn't even seem to realise that the rest of his family was starting to slip through his fingers. The dark-haired elf hadn't told him when the flashbacks had continued to plague her, partly because she hadn't wanted to bother him with anything else, but also partly because she had no longer been completely convinced that he would even be interested anyway. Each time the memories had come back stronger than the time before until for several minutes she would no longer be able to tell what was reality and what was not. During that time the impressions would be so strong that they might almost be reality. All she would be able to see or hear were the sights and sounds of the asylum. All she could feel was the steel manacles burning into her wrists, the pain of the experiments beind conducted upon her, the touch of the doctor's hands upon her skin. Eventually, of course, she hadn't been able to hide this any more. The presence of Linnis at Willow's birthday party had been the end of that. Even now just talking about the brunette made something close to blind terror strike her, her words becoming halting as her throat closed up in panic.

By the time he decided to mention the situation surrounding Rhagi's birth Silverthorn's self-control had only been hanging by a fine thread anyway. Something that, under more normal circumstances, might have been disliked but still dealable with had instead been simply one thing too many for her to accept.

"And then you were telling me that I had to accept him, that I had no choice" she said in a broken whisper, "when before you had said that you understood if I could not feel the way that you did. You had said that I should just tell you what I could handle and that we would go on from there but the only time I ever did that you just yelled a lot. Then you insisted on dragging us all over to S'hea for that 'talk' which just seemed to be about everyone else telling me how selfish I was being. There didn't seem to be any understanding at all." She dragged in a ragged breath. "I know I was the one that told you to go in the end but that didn't make it hurt any the less. There didn't seem to be any of me left. I had already had to ignore so much of what seemed right to me and accept so much that had seemed wrong. I had gone against what I believed so many times..." A shudder ran through her. "I couldn't take any more. I just wanted it to stop hurting and I couldn't see any other way out."

He simply held her through the tears, through the words that both hurt and soothed his soul. To be let in, finally, was a blessing. To be the source of so much pain ... agony. "I'm sorry Arianne," he whispered, "I wish I could change things, I wish I could make the situation easier to bear. But I can't alter what was done, and I can't fight my S'Hean genetics, any more than you can fight your own nature."

Shifting he cupped Silverthorn's chin in his fingers and tilted her face up, "As for Ghet ... Gods. Arianne ... I gave Ghet up a long time ago. I gave her up for you. You never had to ask it of me, hell, you never even knew why. I was willing to risk everything for a chance with you. I did risk everything, and I've never regretted it, not for a moment. Yes, I loved her very much and she had a fragment of my soul. A fragment Vesse, where as YOU have it all."

The galaxy of emerald energy pulsed and caressed the silver aura caught up in its swirling tides and eddies. "Words and misunderstandings cannot change what is, and this," he let his soul penetrate hers completely in that moment, "Is reality."

Like a wound that had been festering inside her, the torrent of words had brought pain but also relief. To finally be able to say all the things she had need to, and yet had felt unable to do so, allowed the healing process to begin.

A soft gasp escaped her at the touch of his soul on hers, her eyelashes fluttering shut. She didn't attempt to hide anything from him. In that moment he could see, feel, all that she was. There were no walls, no barriers.

Slowly her eyes opened again, her jade green gaze like liquid pools of emotion that were deep enough to drown in. "I'm sorry I hurt you" she whispered, her fingers trailing across Ro's cheek. "I love you, always and forever. That has never changed and it never will do, despite how stupid and irrational I can sometimes get."

"I love you too," Ro said softly. Their souls were so intertwined at the moment that the words were not really necessary. The truth of everything he felt for his wife was right there, impossible to deny as it thrummed through her spirit like a living thing. "Don't apologise ... I don't think either of us would be truly happy if our relationship was easy. I love your complications, your temper and your fire, Perhaps more so because I'm the only one to see it."

His thumb caressed Silverthorn's cheekbone and Y'Roden leaned in to kiss her, "I love that you let me in where no one else goes ... where no one else has been. I love that you can make me so angry I want to kill someone, and that you inspire such passion in me I forget myself. How one look from those jade green eyes can soothe away pain or fury and inspire a gentleness I hardly knew I possessed. You give me life, I would trade perfection for the glorious chaos of our love any day."

A soft murmur escaped Silverthorn as she leaned into her husband's touch, his kiss. She could feel his love for her in every caress of his soul against hers, every word he spoke, and the sheer power of that emotion brought tears to her eyes. How could she have ever imagined that anyone could love her in that way? It was still a source of wonder to her.

"It will never cease to amaze me that I can make you feel that way" the dark-haired elf said quietly, "I never believed it possible that I could. With you I am more than I ever dreamed of being. You are my heart, my soul. One touch from you lights a fire hotter than I've ever known and yet at the same time I feel safer with you than I do with anyone else." A gentle smile curved her lips. "My haven."

Her fingers curled into Ro's hair as she kissed him. Just for a moment there it had seemed that they had almost lost each other and that thought frightened her a little. She needed to have him hold her, to be able to hold him, to reassure herself that this was real and not just another horrible trick her mind was playing on her. Her free hand slid down to rest over his heart. Beneath her fingers she could feel it beating, the rhythm matching her own with perfect regularity.

the first time in months, Ro allowed himself the luxury of just ... feeling. The half-elf had spent so much time being torn in two completely seperate directions he had forgotten the comfort of peace. For the moment he could concentrate on his wife, and just his wife. Part of the battle was over, though he had the notion there was a lifelong struggle in his future when it came to his newborn son.

Breathing in the scent of Arianne's hair, Ro closed his eyes and listened. Sweet simple sounds, the beat of two hearts in unison ... the easy breathing of two people content in one anothers presence. He returned her kiss, cupping her face and tracing her jawline with tender fingers. The thought that he could be anyone's Haven was a shock to Y'Roden. His inner self was such a tumult it was hard to believe anyone could find reassurance there. Yet Silverthorn did, and that was enough to know.

The dark-haired elf gave a soft sigh, her eyes closing as she leaned into his kiss. The peace of the moment acted as a balm to her troubled mind and spirit, soothing any lingering hurt. There was still a fragility about her but the frantic swirling of the silvery mist that was her soul had settled somewhat, the torn edges beginning to heal beneath the emerald caress of her husband.

Dark lashes flickered open as Silverthorn smiled at him, tilting her head to trail gentle kisses along Ro's jaw. "My love, my life" she murmured. Fingertips trailed over his shoulders with a delicate touch, the warmth of his skin beneath her hands a simple joy. Resting her forehead against his shoulder she breathed in the scent of the man she loved more than anything else. Perhaps for the first time she began to believe again that somehow she might get through this after all.

Ro’s emerald green's slid closed and he shivered slightly beneath Silverthorn's touch. "Careful," he said softly, "That can only lead to trouble. The best sort of trouble, of course, but trouble none the less."

It had to be a record for the half-elf as it was. A naked wife in his lap and he was still wearing trousers. A genuine smile lit Y'Roden's features at the thought and he kissed the tip of Arianne's ear, "Aminmela lle Vesse."

"Aminmela ile ana verno" Silverthorn replied quietly. She placed a gentle kiss on Ro's shoulder before resting her head there as she simply enjoyed the sensation of being held. The words she had spoken before were nothing more than the literal truth. In his arms she felt safe and protected, as if nothing could harm her.

Slim fingers traced lazy patterns on his skin; following the contours of his chest, the line of his ribs. "I would think you would be used to trouble by now anyway" she murmured in faint amusement, glad to see a happier light in his eyes. "It seems to be something that follows us around."

Y'Roden laughed, grabbed Silverthorn's hand, and gently nipped the tip of her finger. "And here I was thinking that was Kiera," he teased. With a sigh he fell back on the bed, utter exhaustion finally catching up with him. He had not loosened his grip on Arianne though, and held her firmly against his chest. "Gods I'm tired ... and you know .... previously wet leather trousers are NOT comfortable." He chuckled softly, and then suddenly his breathing changed.

Laughing to sleeping in five seconds .... it had to be a new record.

Carefully Silverthorn raised her head, a gentle smile curving her lips as she looked down at Ro. He looked completely exhausted, she thought to herself. Regret flickered in her jade green gaze for a moment. How could she have done that to him? No matter what he said the guilt would live with her for a long time. The idea of hurting the half-elf in any way was painful to her and yet that was exactly what she had done. Of course what she had really wanted to do was hurt herself, as if by doing so she could somehow physically cut out the pain she had felt inside.

With a faint sigh the dark-haired elf slid slowly out of her husband's arm, doing her best not to wake him. He needed his sleep. Inside she just felt drained, almost hollow. The sheer scale of the emotion released over the last few hours now left her with a dazed, slightly light-headed sensation. What she needed right now was quiet.

Making her way into the bathing room, Silverthorn slid into the warm water of the pool. Her eyes closed as she leaned her head back against the side. It was slightly hard to believe that so much had happened in so short a time. For now though she let it all go, her body relaxing as she let her mind drift. She knew she had more to deal with. The child was born now, and no doubt more complications loomed on the horizon. All she could do was take things one step at a time... and hope that Ro understood why she couldn't do more than that. She was afraid that if she tried to go too far, too fast, that she would crumble again... and that this time it would be permanent.