Hugo and Amadahy, part 10

If you are new to my blog, I try to write side stories from my main book series.  As of today, I have a page for them!  Click here to check it out.

Hugo and Amadahy are Charlotte’s grandparents.  I love their love story.  If you follow the link above, you will find the links to parts 1-9.  They are all short, first draft kind of bits of stories.  Someday I’ll clean them all up and publish them, but for now it’s some quick fun to add more depth to the main story.  Here’s part 10!

 

 

She could understand him now, and not only his words. She brought forth her magic, now entangled with his. It drifted up from her palm that lay on the bed and danced above her fingers.

The fingers of her other hand were still in his hair. His sleeping face was pressed against her side, one arm wrapped around her waist.

What kind of magic was this? She wondered as she caressed his head. What kind of magic was that? She wondered as she watched the combined magic twirl above her other hand.

She let the new magic dissolve back into her hand and looked around the room. She glanced at the door and the fireplace. The door opened. Logs flew slowly across the room and landed in the fireplace. The flames grew. She warmed the bowl of soup, tidied the room, and brought her sewing to the space above her. The needle set to work.

“Ama.” He muttered against her side.

“Rest.” She said. She did not know if she was speaking his, or he was speaking hers, or they were both speaking their own with a magical translation having as they spoke.

“Both of our magics are depleted.” He opened his eyes. “We both need to rest.”

She let her sewing drift back down to the basket on the floor and sighed.

He chuckled and shifted until his face was next to hers.

“You should eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

But he was, and she felt it. She sat up. “Your soup is warm. Don’t make it a waste of magic.”

That got him up and moving, though reluctantly. She watched him from the bed as he ate naked at their little table. He was not hers like she wanted him to be, but his actions had proved that he was willing to try. Time would take care of the rest.

“Tell me about her.” Amadahy asked once he had crawled back in bed with her and pulled the blanket over the both of them.

He didn’t answer.

“What was her name?”

“Maeve.”

“What was she like?”

“Everything you are not.” The words came quickly, and he regretted them even as they spit off his tongue.

Her face hardened. He reached for her, but she launched from the bed. She snapped her fingers. Her clothing followed her out the door.

“Amadahy.” He shoved his legs into his pants. “Come back!”

“Amadahy!” He called out into the dark night air. “It came out the wrong way. Where are you?” We need to talk, you foolish woman. He hurried through the forest, calling out her name. Why do you run from me?

A wave of unrest rushed through his body. He fell to his knees. Another wave, and this time his vision shifted. He saw her feet in water. “Ama!” He ran for the stream, and then followed it in the direction he knew would lead to deeper waters and a widening of the bank.

“You are loud.” She greeted him once he had reached her.

“Did you feel it?” He offered her his hand.

She took it. “I felt sick, and I saw a part of the woods I was not in.”

“Yes.” He tucked her hand in his.

They did not speak on the trip home. The sick feeling he had felt earlier was gone, but an uneasy feeling had replaced it.

“Are you okay?” He locked the door behind them.

“Yes.”

“Are you tired?”

“No.”

“I’m cold.” He waved his hand and the candles went out. The fireplace still roared with warmth and light. “Let’s get warm.”

She got into bed with him, and when he tucked her small frame against his, she did not fight him.

“I met Maeve in school.” He explained. “She was dressed up as a boy so she could take magic classes.”

“You do not teach girls magic in your country?”

“Not at proper schools.” He clarified. “They learn simple spells at home with their mothers.”

“Do the boys not learn from the fathers?”

“A little, but mainly we learn from school, and later from our apprenticeship.”

She wrinkled her nose at him, and he laughed.

“It’s messed up, I know.” He smiled. “I don’t believe that the girls have weaker magic. I think their magic wanes and sometimes dies because they aren’t using it.”

“Magic does that.” Amadahy said. “If you don’t respect it, then it does not respect you.”

It was Hugo’s turn to frown. “Magic is a tool. It doesn’t have feelings.”

“Magic is alive.” Amadahy asserted. “No wonder your people’s magic is dying. You are killing it.”

“You are my people, Amadahy.” Hugo said softly, changing the subject for the moment. “Why did you run from me? You aren’t a runner.”

“Everybody runs.” She said. “We just run from different things.”

“You don’t need to run from me. Don’t you know that?”

She tried to turn away from him, but he pulled her closer before she could.

“Ama.” He kissed her on the nose. “What do you run from?”

She kissed him on the lips. He let her. He wasn’t ready to tell all of his stories, either. The knowing of each other would come with time.

 

That’s all for now!  See you around!

Live Bravely, 
Love Strongly,
-AEM

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