Water dripped from Ella's hair, dampening her robe. She shivered, biting the edge of her thumb as she stared into her wardrobe.
She'd been standing in the same spot for the better part of half an hour, chilled and uncomfortable, but unable to make a decision.
A stupid decision, she knew. What to wear. Why was that even important?
She knew, if she was honest.
Ella had come to a conclusion—she needed to talk with Aedion. She'd put the event off long enough. She could no longer continue to postpone the inevitable. It had to be done today.
So in true Ella fashion, she now focused on the minute details to avoid it just a bit longer. Namely, what to wear. As if that even mattered.
What are you even doing, she scowled at herself. Stars above, this was just pathetic. With more force than necessary, she yanked on a simple night slip. What did it matter what she wore? No scrap of clothing was going to make this any less painful.
Twisting her damp hair away, she exhaled and straightened her back. She was not going to be cowardly anymore. Decisively, she walked to the door and yanked it open, before she could lose her push.
Almost immediately, she collided face-first into a solid wall of black.
Taking a step back, she looked up at an equally startled Aedion, fist still suspended in the air, as if about to knock.
"I was just going to see you--"
"I came by to talk--"
Ella let out a nervous half-laugh. Hell, this was uncomfortable. Standing aside, she waved him in. "Come in, sit."
Aedion shuffled in stiffly and took a seat on her sofa. His hair was also damp, and his shirt, made of soft cotton, was pushed up to bare his toned forearms. It was unfortunate they were in a bad way. She would have stolen that shirt, too.
"We did well today," Ella blurted, wanting to say something. She curled up in the armchair in front of him and hugged her knees to her chest.
Aedion's answering smile was light. "Yes, I suppose we did. And no threats or physical harm were needed. I consider it a win."
"Other than that nasty business with Lord Roan, it was calm." Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "What a sad little man."
Aedion looked at her pensively, his expression guarded. "You didn't have to defend me, you know. I'm used to hearing it. What they say is nothing new."
Ella immediately became defensive. "I most certainly did. I wasn't about to allow him--or anyone--to insult you. Least of all a pathetic weasel like Roan. He isn't fit to cast judgement on you."
Aedion was quiet for a moment. When he spoke, it was soft but weighty. "I don't give a damn what they say about me. That will never change, no matter how much you defend me. They see me as an extension of my father; as someone who is evil in my own right. I am not faultless, I know that. I have done terrible things. But you must know," he insisted, boring his gaze into her. "I have never been disloyal. I would rather cut off my arms."
"I know. I believe you," she replied easily, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I would never doubt your loyalty to Callan."
There had never been a doubt in Ella's mind. People could say what they wanted about Aedion. They could call him a murderer, a manipulator and a liar, but disloyal he was not. He was committed, and passionate to a fault. He was devoted. And she knew it better than anyone. She had been on the flip side of that devotion.
Aedion didn't need her to say it out loud. The flickering melancholy in his expression knew it. "I am loyal to you as well," he spoke. "I would never turn my back on you. I would never forsake you."
"But you would deceive me."
Her words were quiet, barely there. But Aedion flinched as if she'd shouted them into his ear.
"Did you always know?" Ella asked quietly, staring at her knees, before looking at him again. "Is that why you came looking for me? That first time in Cereas."
Aedion hesitated for a moment, weighing his words. "Yes and no," he said slowly. "You caught my attention the first time I saw you at the Red Lantern. You made a rather large impression on me," he mused with an almost smile. "Not because I suspected anything then. I was just curious. You were intriguing and I... wanted to see you again."
"But when I saw you in Cereas, well, I did start suspecting something then. I didn't know anything still. But you felt different; faerie. And... you looked like Callan. Reminded me of him a lot. It was enough for me to start investigating. I hadn't told Callan then. I wanted to be certain. I was going to tell him what I knew, and let him do with the information what he saw best. But before I could even tell him... I found you in the orcish forests."
"So you decided to make a vow with me," Ella muttered dryly, letting out an unamused huff. "Instead of telling me."
"Would you have believed me?"
Begrudgingly, Ella shook her head. "I suppose not. But you still lied. You accepted my vow."
"I wanted to help you," Aedion said quietly. "I knew you wouldn't have believed me if I told you about Callan right away--hell, I hadn't even told him by then. I also didn't think you would trust me if I offered my help selflessly. From what little I knew about you, I could see you were distrusting. I was sure you'd already heard terrible things about us."
"You already thought we had Grayson, so I decided to help you the best way I knew. I gave you an easy vow. Something... reasonable. Something you would accept without feeling like it was a trick."
Despite herself, a small flicker of warmth lit her chest. It had been a reasonable vow. Even then, she'd been incredulous that he would trade rescuing her brother for something as meagre as doing paperwork. She supposed, in a way, Aedion had done her a favour. In the twisted way he knew, at least.
"Were you ever going to tell me?" she said after a moment, hugging her knees close.
Aedion exhaled and dragged a hand through his hair. "I wanted to from the beginning, but I didn't feel it was my choice to make. I felt like I was betraying Callan if I went behind his back. It was a very difficult position to be in. But I should have known better."
He rested his elbows on his thighs and leaned closer, his eyes warm and open and terribly vulnerable. "You have to know, Wen, that I never intended to hurt you. I never laughed about it or thought it was something to take lightly. If anything, it killed me to lie to you. To look at you and know I was being dishonest."
"I know it sounds ridiculous. I lie constantly. I'm a cheat, as you've so aptly called me a few times," he chuckled humourlessly. "I'm a heartless bastard and a scoundrel. All the awful things they say are true. I've done terrible things without batting an eye. I never once cared. But I do care what you think of me."
"I do care about you. And you must know, that this is the only thing I have ever lied to you about. This is my only betrayal."
"You're not heartless," she said softly, taking him by surprise. Despite his nonchalant semblance, his expression flickered, full of fragile hope. "And I do believe you."
She wasn't surprised by her own admission; she'd made peace with it a few days ago, even before Callan's confession. If she thought back, she could even recall a few times she'd overheard Aedion and Callan's conversations. It was always Aedion pleading for Callan to be honest. To be honest with her, she now knew.
At another time, she would have been angry at herself for being so willfully blind. For choosing not to see the truth when it was right in front of her, almost hitting her on the nose. But Ella was still set on being kinder to herself, and that involved showing herself gentleness. Not judging herself so harshly.
Most of all, she knew Aedion wasn't the terrible person they said he was. She also knew that even if he pretended he didn't care, he truly did. She knew him like the palm of her hand. She knew his heart, as bright and full and tender as it was. Light-kissed.
So when he looked at her so tenderly, so hopefully, willing her to understand and forgive him, she did. She did forgive him. But forgiveness was easier than forgetting. And sometimes, it wasn't enough.
"I don't blame you for what you did," she continued quietly. "It must have been difficult. It must have made you uncomfortable. And I understand you didn't mean to hurt me, but you did. You did hurt me," she finished, nails digging into her thighs to keep from crying. "And it still hurts."
She understood what Gidden meant when he said that even if he didn't blame her for not returning his feelings, it still made him feel raw. It still stung like a thousand papercuts. Because that's what she felt for Aedion.
And it was ridiculous. It shouldn't hurt so damn much. It wasn't so serious. She'd had much worse done to her. Things truly meant to destroy her. And she'd gotten over it like she usually did, high and mighty, with her head held high.
But she wasn't high and mighty. And it wasn't so much about what had been done to her, as much as who had done it. Aedion.
Aedion dropped to his knees in front of her and held her face in gentle hands. He swiped his thumbs on her cheeks, and she realised, with dull mortification, that she was crying. Through the blur of wet lashes, she could see his distorted features, beautiful and puckered in concern.
"I'm sorry, love. I'm so sorry," he whispered, bringing her close, pulling her into him.
His arms wrapped around her securely, his hand holding her nape, and she went willingly. Just for a moment, she allowed herself to bury her wet face in his throat, to drink in his warmth, his scent, the vibrant energy he exuded. She allowed herself to revel in the feel of his strong arms wrapping around her, guarding her close, like a secret.
She clung to him, fingers twisting into his shirt, the way she would claw onto the walls of a smooth well, fighting for purchase, unable to hold on, knowing it was fruitless.
Maybe that's what hurt so much. More than a betrayal, it was the knowledge that she had broken her own heart. She had caused herself all of this unnecessary pain.
Ella had been hubristic. She'd gotten confused along the way and forgotten this thing between them was a game. It was no wonder she'd come out scraped and bruised. She'd stupidly thought she could handle Aedion and she hadn't been prepared. She hadn't been ready to deal with sinking so fast, for falling into him so violently.
She hadn't been prepared to drown in him.
"You have to go," she rasped against the soft skin of his throat. He tensed, arms stiffening, but she placed her palms on his chest and pushed gently. He let her go but kept his arms around her.
"What are you saying?" He held her face and pressed his thumbs against her splotchy cheeks, wiping away the tears. It was such a tender action, that she almost started to cry again.
Instead, she looked away, biting her wobbling lip. "I can't do this with you. We can't keep doing this."
Aedion sucked in a sharp breath, and the hands on her face trembled. "I'm sorry," he repeated, a little more desperately. "I didn't mean to hurt you. You have no idea how much I regret it. How much I wish--"
"It isn't about that," she interjected, touching the hand on her cheek. She paused and measured her words. Finally, she settled for the bare, honest truth. "I forgive you. I understand why you did it. But it doesn't take away that I'm hurt. I look at you and it hurts."
His hands dropped to his lap, just like his expression. The flickering fire behind him illuminated him like a halo. It made the shadows of his cheekbones more prominent, the sorrow in his eyes stark. Crestfallen.
He made her heart ache all over again.
"I've lost your trust, haven't I?"
"I trust you," she answered instantly, if a bit faintly. "I would never doubt your loyalty, no matter what they may say."
Aedion smiled bitterly. "I meant your trust, Wen. Not your trust in my loyalty to the Kingdom. My loyalty to you."
She didn't answer then. She only shrugged weakly. "I won't always feel this way," she said, almost to herself, as if by saying it out loud, she could will it into existence. "I'll get over it. I just need... time."
Time. Time to collect herself. Time enough for the clinging hurt to dissolve. Time enough to be able to look at him and not feel like her heart was cleaving in half.
"You don't have to get over something I did," he said sternly, an angry, tired tick to his jaw. "If you feel like this, it is because I failed. I hurt you. You have every right to feel betrayed."
"But you're right, you won't always feel this way," Aedion nodded to himself.Determination limned his gaze. "You won't feel this way again, because I will prove myself to you. I will make up for what I did. You won't ever have to doubt me again."
Ella swallowed the lump of tears in her throat and wiped away the damp stickiness from her neck. She was aware she looked like a mess, with her eyes swollen and her nose red like a berry. Still, Aedion looked at her like he wanted to keep her forever, with a raw yearning that made her belly knot.
He leaned forward, hesitantly, giving her time to pull back. She didn't. She needed this. The warmth of his fingers wiping her cheeks, pulling her hair away from her sticky face and tucking it behind her ears. His nearness.
Aedion pulled her close, and she allowed herself to exhale a shudder. They knelt thigh to thigh, heart to heart. The heat of his palm on her back seared through the thin silk of her slip, and the beat of his heart etched a stencil on her chest. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her temple. It was so soft, so reverent, that her eyes fluttered shut.
He pulled back only slightly, to grasp her chin and tilt her head up to him. He was so close, that when he spoke, she could feel it on her lips. She could feel each and every letter that left his mouth like a whisper. She could do nothing but tremble and stare straight into those bottled-sunlight eyes.
"Take however long you need. Just know, I will be here. I will always be here."
With that, he leaned in and pressed a heartbreaking kiss on her cheek, near the corner of her lips. Her knuckles clenched his thin shirt and she held on, eyes squeezed shut, breath held like a vice.
His fingers left her chin and travelled to her jaw, as he kissed the tender skin near her mouth. His lashes tickled her cheeks, and his palm seared her spine, digging into the flimsy silk. Ella wanted to tilt her mouth and press into him. Breathe him in. Drink him up, until his taste coated the walls of her lungs and the inside of her mouth. Until she could never feel anything else again.
Never had she thought a kiss could be so painful. So devastating. But more painful was the moment he pulled away.
He lingered, palm still on her back, pressing her impossibly close, hand still curled around her jaw. He pressed his forehead against hers, and for a moment, they breathed the same air. For a moment, they both pretended there was nothing outside this wrinkle in time. There was no hurt, no distrust, and no broken hearts. It was just them.
All too soon, he dropped his hands from around her and stood. Ella released his shirt and curled her fists on her lap. She didn't look at him. She didn't move.
Long after he was gone, she stayed there, still kneeling on the floor in her room, feeling as cold as that day in the snow, when she left the castle and a piece of herself behind.
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A/N: Do you guys hate me? <33
I'm sorry! But my girl Ella here needs to heal. Drink some tea. Do some yoga. It's all about that self-care!