The Vampire & Her Witch

”...I’ll never let you leave the Vale again...”

The words Nyrielle said, accompanied by the stern tone of her voice, washed over Ashlynn like a plunge from the hot tub directly into the ice and snow outside their shared dream. Her entire body trembled, and her emerald eyes quivered as she realized that when Nyrielle said the word ’never,’ she really, truly meant ’never.’ She wasn’t just prepared to hold Ashlynn back in the Vale of Mists for a few weeks or months, but for years and centuries if they couldn’t resolve this problem.

”What? Why?” Ashlynn said with a voice that held none of her usual confidence. The notion that Nyrielle might try to control her, that the powerful vampire might one day turn on her, had long ago faded from Ashlynn’s mind as the two drew closer together during their journey and even during their time apart.

But for Nyrielle to threaten to imprison her... It cut far deeper than even her lover might have realized. For more than twenty years, almost all of her life, Ashlynn had been a prisoner in a gilded cage, rarely allowed out of the Blackwell manor. While it would have been impossible for her parents to completely isolate her from the outside world, it wasn’t an exaggeration to say that she left her home fewer than a dozen times a year for most of her life, and even then, she was almost always tightly supervised.

Those rare occasions when she slipped out of the house late at night, taking Jocelynn up to the cliffs to watch the sun rise and the ships setting sail were her most precious tastes of freedom until Owain had begun to court her. But even then, the stiff, semi-formal, and always supervised outings she had with her former husband couldn’t compare to the taste of true freedom she’d gained after binding herself to Nyrielle.

In the six months since she’d dug herself out of a shallow grave and fell into life as both Nyrielle’s Seneschal and the Mother of Trees, Ashlynn had seen more wonders of the world than she’d ever imagined existed.

Whether it was the bustle and liveliness of High Fen City and it’s towering arena, or the natural beauty of the golden waterfall at dawn where the White River spilled off a cliff before becoming the waters of the Briar and the Crystal Lake, each new destination brought countless new experiences and wonders into Ashlynn’s ever expanding world.

Even the cold, frozen lands of the High Pass had their own moments of warmth and crystaline, icy beauty that gave her world texture and depth that it had never had before. But now, Nyrielle was talking about snatchign that away from her, trapping her once again within a tiny portion of the world, held within a gilded cage, because she had... had what? What was it she had done that would upset her lover so?

”Is this because of Hauke? Because I didn’t kill him when I had the chance?” Ashlynn asked, thinking back on their very first conversations about the High Pass when Nyrielle had warned her that she would need to be ruthless with the Frost Walkers if she was going to succeed here.

”That wasn’t really Hauke,” Ashlynn said, clutching Nyrielle’s hand and hoping she would understand. ”I told you, he was possessed by those ancestors and...”

”You think I don’t know your tender heart by now?” Nyrielle said, sliding the hand cupping Ashlynn’s face over to her full lips, placing a finger there to interrupt Ashlynn’s explanation before her hand slid lower, coming to rest high on Ashlynn’s chest, above the swell of her full breasts and where she could best feel her lover’s heartbeat.

”I know that you would do everything in your power to rescue a friend,” Nyrielle said gently, though her midnight eyes still lacked the warmth they usually held when she looked at Ashlynn. ”I’m not upset at you for trying. I’m upset that you suffered so much by fighting him with one hand tied behind your back.”

”Our bond of blood goes both ways, my darling,” Nyrielle said as her resolve to be cold crumpled into an expression of deep concern and... hurt. ”Why, when you were hurting so badly, when you were fighting at such a heavy disadvantage, why didn’t you draw on that bond for the strength you needed? Even if I am not by your side,” Nyrielle said, clutching tightly at the hand she still held and interlacing her fingers with Ashlynn’s. ”You can still draw on my strength.”

”I, I didn’t dare to,” Ashlynn confessed. The moment she said it, her head dropped, and she turned her gaze away, looking to the great hearth crackling in the corner and filling the room with the faint smell of cedar smoke or the small fountain in the wall that continued to pour fresh, hot water into the bath. Anywhere but at the wounded expression on Nyrielle’s face.

”You didn’t come for me,” Ashlynn said softly. ”You didn’t break me free from the ice prison. But I still felt you,” she said, forcing herself to look back at Nyrielle with emerald eyes that didn’t contain the slightest trace of accusation. Instead, while Ashlynn’s eyes brimmed with tears, they overflowed with a deep, unwavering trust in the other woman.

”I felt your worry and your fear as you raced away,” Ashlynn said as she fought back the sobs that wanted to erupt from her chest. ”You were worried about something even more dangerous, so how could I weaken you when you were hunting a greater threat?”

”I’m not so fragile that I can’t support you more when you need my strength, my darling,” Nyrielle said before biting her lower lip and reconsidering her words. ”But how could you know? You’ve never once drawn on me consciously. The only time you’ve ever drawn on my strength directly was during your blossoming period, and you were barely in control at the time.”

”I can accept that you feared for me,” Nyrielle said, letting out a soft sigh as she regathered her resolve. ”And I can forgive you for not relying on me when you didn’t know it might affect me or what kind of battle I might be facing.”

”But I’m not the only resource that you refused to draw on, and while I can forgive you for not drawing on me, it’s harder to forgive you for ignoring this,” she said as the hand resting above Ashlynn’s chest slid lower until Nyrielle’s index finger traced along a faint pink scar between Ashlynn’s breasts.

None of Ashlynn’s other wounds were visible on her skin in this dream, but the fresh, pink scar stood out clearly against her pale, creamy flesh, looking even more visible in the heat of the bath.

”How long have you been nurturing this seed of witchcraft, my darling?” Nyrielle asked. ”How many months have you been showering it with the rich energy of life and growing things? You could have used all of the energy you stored there to fight back against Hauke, trapping him from the beginning, and it would have cost you nothing but the time you’d invested in forming this seed.”

”Or is the person you’re growing this seed for more precious to you than I am?” Nyrielle asked. ”Is it more important to give this person the seed you’re growing right now than it is to keep yourself safe?” Nyrielle asked as her eyes began to cloud over.

”You suffered so much,” she said, pulling Ashlynn forward and wrapping her arms tightly around the young witch. ”So what was so important about this seed that you would suffer so much just to preserve it when its power could have brought you victory or, or even just to heal your wounds.”

”Who is it, if it isn’t me?” Nyrielle said in a strained voice that was bereft of any of her earlier strength and dominance. ”Who is it that you would suffer so much for?”