Work Text:
After I had introduced him to the last person in the circle, the Dragon asked me tersely, “Are you quite finished with this humiliation?”
I smiled and squeezed his hand. I couldn't resist teasing him just a bit more. “Yes, I think so, although I would love a dance,” I said, inclining my head toward the bonfire. Sarkan looked as if he would strangle me. I laughed and moved closer to him.
“I would like to speak with you,” he said in a low voice, his eyes boring in to me. “Will you accompany me back to the tower?” I nodded and with a wave of his hand, he pulled me into the spell and we emerged into his darkened library.
Sarkan murmured a word and all the candles around the room lit and a fire roared to life in the fireplace. Light filled the room and I saw that the library was still in disarray from the battle. He looked around and sighed. I watched him as he started to pick up a few books that were scattered across the floor. “I will have men come soon and start rebuilding,” he said, his back to me.
“I will help you lay the spells into the stone,” I said, reaching down to pick up a book at my feet and sitting it on the table next to me.
“I hoped you would,” he said, setting the books down on a shelf.
I stood watching him, waiting. When he said nothing further, I said, “Is that what you wanted to speak to me about? The rebuilding of the tower?”
“No,” he answered immediately, but then “Yes.” Sarkan shook his head and let out a deep breath. “No,” he said quietly. I stood still, waiting. He turned his head and looked at me. “You've been working in the Wood.” It wasn't a question. Of course he knew.
“Yes,” I answered him. “Healing the hurt there has been very fulfilling. It was what I was meant to do.”
“I know,” he said. “I saw your power, your call, in the Summoning. I've never seen anything like it. I knew instantly that you could never leave the Wood or this Valley, at least not for very long.”
“You must have seen many things,” I said. I chose my words carefully, keeping accusation out of my voice. I just stated the facts. “Sarkan, you cast the Summoning for me alone. I can't imagine what that must have taken. And when you did, you saw me. You saw my magic, my purpose, but you also would have seen my heart and what I felt... what I feel for you. And you ran from it.”
“Yes, I did,” he said flatly, his eyes darting away from mine. I stood, watching him and waiting. He turned fully toward me, his hands clenching and unclenching. When he did finally look at me again, his eyes were pleading, he was asking for help. I knew why he ran, and I suspected what he wanted now, but it had to be his choice. He was already halfway there, just by being here. I gave him a bridge.
I raised my hands and pulled up our image of a rose. Sarkan breathed out a sigh that sounded almost like relief. He crossed to me and took my hands in his. I felt his magic mingle with mine, the familiar zing and sharpness and then joy as the rose began to grow into a great bush covered in blooms.
“I am earth,” I said, raising my eyes to his.
Sarkan hesitated, and I felt his magic falter, just for a second. But when he searched my face, he must have found what he was looking for. “I am air,” he replied, and the feel of a breeze caressed my face.
“I am water,” I said, and the sound of the Spindle filled the room.
“And I am fire,” Sarkan said as the image of lightening flashed. He was looking at me intensely, but I could see the joy and wonder that he often showed when our magic combined. I felt the pull between us and stepped closer to him. His breath sped up, and lighting flashed again. The spell's intensity was building, roots and vines and trees were spouting all around us. Suddenly, he pulled me roughly against him and kissed me. His kiss was angry and full of desperation and I felt the image around us become a storm. Wind whipped and the feel of rain pelted against us. When we parted, breathing heavily, he laid his forehead against mine and we gently brought down the spell together.
When the image was gone, he spoke. “The time I was away, I felt as I was only half myself.” he said, his hands cupping my face. “I am not whole without you, Agnieszka. We are different, but we are not meant to be apart. I was wrong.”
“Sarkan,” I whispered, tasting the smoke of his name on my tongue again. I kissed him, winding my arms around his neck and pressing my whole body against his.
Sarkan scooped me up in his arms and took me up the stairs to his bedchamber. That night, in his curtained bed, we made our promises to each other. My place was in the Wood and in the Valley, and his was in the Capital and being the Dragon. But we would never be apart for long. We would always come back to each other.