[Closed, Mature] Never Felt Like Any Blessing

[Aremu Ediwo]

Afternoon, 28 Hamis, 2720
Inside the Cliff, Ibutatu Estate

Aurelie mumbled her relief into the damp fabric of his shirt, curled against him. Aremu smiled, his eyes still closed; his head was still throbbing painfully, but the surge of nausea from sitting up had settled, and he felt better than he might have expected, if he had stopped to think and had not, instead, reacted entirely on instinct.

Aurelie’s hand came and curled down at his chest; Aremu felt the faint pressure of her fingers, just barely, though the fabric of his shirt. His heart was pounding, just a bit – the exertion, he thought, of sitting up. He tried not to think of the swim back to shore; he would make it, Aremu thought, one way or another, even if he had to pull himself along the rocks by his hand. He was glad Aurelie wasn’t hurt; she could have been, he knew, and that weighed on him heavily, but she wasn’t, and he was grateful for it.

“I think so,” Aremu said, still leaning his head back against the wall. “I’m feeling better, at least. I have quite a hard head, you know.” He wasn’t sure himself if it was a joke; he’d sort of meant it to be, but he didn’t know how well he’d managed the delivery. He’d never had a knack for joking; he wished he could, just now. He’d very much have liked to make her laugh again.

Aremu breathed in deeply, opening his eyes, and glancing down at Aurelie, still curled into his side. His hand was still stroking gently up and down her arm, the damp fabric shifting over her skin. The bright red slashes of her eyebrows were snapped together, and the whole of her face was tight. It was, also, very close to his own face, much closer than he’d realized. Aurelie’s hand came up, and settled against the line of his jaw, very careful.

Aremu smiled beneath Aurelie’s hand, feeling it shift against his face as he did. He studied her, rather intently; it was easier to see her sitting up, without the light falling on her from above. He could find the suggestions of her freckles now; there were places on her face still in shadow, and he thought idly that he should have to double-check them later.

“You’re so beautiful,” Aremu said, his hand still moving gently back and forth on her arm, lifting his gaze from the curve of her nose and the lines of her cheeks, from her bright red eyelashes, and looking her in the eyes once more. “Even when you’re worried.” He had said it aloud; he hadn’t quite been able to stop himself. That was, Aremu thought, all right. He didn’t know truth, and he knew he couldn’t; he would never have claimed to. But this felt right, to him; he wasn’t sure if rightness was forbidden to him as well, but he knew how he felt. Just then, his head ached too much to worry over it.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 28, 2720 - Afternoon | Inside the Cliff, Ibutatu Estate

Aurelie wasn't sure if that had been meant as a joke or not. She thought it might be, and she made a sound that was almost a laugh. About as much a laugh as that had been a joke, at least. Laughing at all wasn't as hard as she thought it might have been. "Good thing then. I'm glad to hear it."

There wasn't much distance for her hand to travel to come to settle on the line of his jaw. Aurelie wasn't quite sure what made her think it was a good idea to do it. She hadn't thought at all, really. Just reached out and set her hand there, carefully. Maybe she'd expected him to pull away or tell her not to. Then she would know. Except she already knew that she had crossed a line, didn't she?

He didn't do either of those things. She could actually feel him smile against her palm. This part of the cave had more light, or the angle of it was at least different. She could feel the muscles shift, and see the way it changed Aremu's face at the same time. He was looking back at her in a way that made it a little hard to breathe. Looking and looking, like he was trying to find something. A particularly traitorous part of her mind pointed out that it would be so very easy to close the distance between them; she would barely even have to move.

"How hard did you hit your head?" She blurted out, astonished. It wasn't that nobody had ever called her that before. Just—how? He hadn't even stopped moving his hand on her arm. Aurelie thought she should tell him, in case he wasn't aware. After all, he was clearly delirious. The blush that came over her didn't so much creep or spread as come over her all at once, sweeping up her face and ears and neck in a sort of wildfire. The water should have put it out, she thought absurdly, and it did nothing at all. If it was possible to die somehow of embarrassment, she would find a way.

"Oh, I don't mean. That came out strange. I just—I'm not... I-if anyone here is it's... Well I suppose that's not the kind of adjective one normally uses to describe a man, or... I'm. Er. Oh. Hmm. I'm going to stop talking. Is what." Aurelie dropped her face. But not, she thought despairingly, her hand. And she didn't sit up to put an appropriate amount of distance between them. And now her heart was beating so hard it hurt. To top it all off, she rather thought she was smiling.

This was terrible. She was an idiot, and he was injured. She shouldn't be thinking this way. Acting this way. Doing... whatever it was she was doing. What was he going to think of her behavior later, when he was thinking... properly? Beautiful. She wasn't. She knew she wasn't. And yet he'd said so. Perhaps she really was right to have been worried when he fell asleep.

[Aremu Ediwo]

Afternoon, 28 Hamis, 2720
Inside the Cliff, Ibutatu Estate

He had said it, Aremu thought, looking down at her. A blush swept over Aurelie’s face, glowing all of her bright red; he could, Aremu thought, pleased and a little worried, feel it on his face, with her so close. She looked, if possible, even more worried. Even her ears were pink, he thought, studying them beneath the damp mess of her hair.

“You are,” Aremu insisted. He was talking to the top of her head, now, where she’d bent it down away from him, but she was still curled up against him, and her hand was still cupping his cheek.

It seemed, suddenly, very important that she believe him. I’m a liar, Aremu wanted to say, but not about this – not this. He squeezed her upper arm, just a bit, and reached for her chin, carefully, gently tilting her face back up to him. She was smiling, at least, and he grinned back at the sight of it, looking down at her.

“You are,” Aremu said again, quietly. “All the time, really. When you’re… covered in dust in the attic or covered in flour and baking, you’re so beautiful.” He looked down at her, and frowned a little, concentrating; his head ached, it really did, but he thought this was important, somehow. It was, he told himself; it wasn’t only about his desires, and what he felt when he looked at her. It was about her; he wanted, more than anything, for her to feel it too.

“It’s not the shallow sort of beauty,” Aremu went on, softly. “It’s not just the pretty color of your eyes, or the shape of your lips, or your freckles, or the softness of your hair,” he’d meant to focus, but he was smiling again; his hand came up, and his fingers threaded, gently, into her hair, cradling her head. It felt nothing like he’d imagined – it was wet and tangled and heavy against his hand – and he tried to cling to the memory of it, hoping desperately that this wasn’t a dream after all.

“Although,” Aremu found a frown after all, “I like all those things,” he admitted, studying her, still gently cradling her head; he let go, carefully, settling his hand on her arm again, wanting very much to hold her close. “But it’s… deeper, somehow. It’s within you, and it shines through when you smile or laugh or frown. I’m sorry I can’t explain it any better; my head really does hurt. But you’re beautiful, Aurelie.”

There was so little distance left between them; Aremu didn’t close it, looking intently down at her. This wasn’t about him and his selfish desires; sitting here, soaking wet and his head aching, with the storm battering at the ocean and the cliff outside, feeling as if he’d stuffed his skull full of palm fibers, scratching and aching and with nothing to show for it. It was about her; he needed her to understand, Aremu thought, frowning down at her once more. This was, he felt, very important.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 28, 2720 - Afternoon | Inside the Cliff, Ibutatu Estate

Aurelie thought with a kind of desperate hopelessness that she could have kept her face down if she really wanted to. Aremu had tilted her chin up, but it was a gentle kind of touch and she didn't really think he'd insist on it if she had truly pushed back. But she let him do it, revealing the face that she couldn't seem to stop smiling, even though she didn't think it was really true. Not that he was a liar, just. Wrong.

She didn't know what to do looking into that face, with a grin on it, while he said something like that. She really was a terribly foolish person. This was absolutely more than she would ever... Head trauma, she thought dazedly, could only explain so much. What, then, was this? He frowned down at her, and she was still at a loss. That pinned her down as much as the grin had.

Maybe she was the one who had hit her head. Maybe she'd hit it very, very hard, and all of this was a dream. Especially when he smiled and put his hand in her hair, something she knew she had dreamed about at least once in the last week. Aurelie didn't think it was so; dreams didn't often involve a pebble digging somewhat unpleasantly into her ankle, or wet clothing sticking to her in places she would rather it didn't. And not even a dream would have put these words in Aremu's mouth.

There was no blood left in her that wasn't in her face, as far as she could tell. She felt absolutely incandescent with it. Her clothes should have been dry from the heat, and probably Aremu's too. He was terribly close. It was awful. Wonderful. No, awful. Oh, she couldn't really decide. She never had been good at telling the difference when it came to these things.

"Oh." This wasn't the smartest thing she could have said, or the most gracious. Being intelligent or gracious seemed out of her reach right now. How was she supposed to take that? It wasn't true. None of it could be true. There was nothing in her at all; he simply hadn't known her long enough to find that out. But she was terribly, selfishly pleased to hear him say that he thought so.

Aurelie swallowed. "You shouldn't... make it worse. Uhm. Your head. I, ah." She frowned again as she looked up. Her hand was still on his face. While she considered the nature of his headache, she found they moved. They came to trace his cheekbone up to his brow, and back again. She thought that she ought to say something back. Something as lovely, but she really couldn't quite seem to put the words together.

He, she thought, didn't need to hear that she thought so about him. That she liked his face of course (it would be difficult not to), even more with those unexpected grins, but all the rest too. His careful, serious way of doing everything, thoughtful to the point of frustration. How he always seemed to want to help, but... But without making her feel as though he thought her as much an idiot as she really was. That she had thought, more than once, about how she wanted to smooth the frown away from his face with her hands. He didn't need to hear any of that from her. But some response, surely, was required.

Aurelie looked up at him and she thought, she really did. She tried, at least. In the end she gave up finding the right words to say. She never had been very good with them. Aurelie leaned up. She had thought to catch his cheek or his forehead; something reasonable, that she could explain later, and might be all right. But she had been looking at his mouth while he spoke—this was a problem of hers, and it really was very nice—so that's where she moved her own, light as a bird's wing. A brief touch, and then she moved away.

"Oh. Oh! Oh no, I'm so sorry." Aurelie clapped her other hand over her mouth. Gracious Lady. Gracious... clocking Lady, what had that been?

[Aremu Ediwo]

Afternoon, 28 Hamis, 2720
Inside the Cliff, Ibutatu Estate

Oh, Aurelie said, very quietly. Aremu frowned, looking down at her. Your head, she said, quietly; her hand came up and traced along his face, slowly.

He knew he hadn’t done it; he knew he hadn’t convinced her. He had tried, Aremu thought; he had done the best he could. If he had been more - better - more eloquent - maybe he could have found a way. He had only himself, in the end; he was what he was. He had tried; he couldn’t regret it, even if he had failed. Perhaps a better man could have convinced her, but he had long since learned to live with his own inadequacies.

Aurelie came closer; her lips brushed over his, soft and light, a feather touch of a kiss.

Aremu shivered. All the thoughts drained out of him; there was only a faint throbbing empty ache, and all the nerve endings of his body tingling in his lips, in his cheek where her fingers rested, against the line of his chest where he could feel her lean.

Aurelie drew back, wide-eyed; she apologized from half behind her hand, covering her mouth with it.

Aremu looked down at her, frowning a little. Don’t, something inside him whispered, don’t - don’t -

He was standing at the edge of the cliff, Aremu thought dizzily, and that kiss was the spray of the water crashing at the base, reaching up to brush against him. He was looking down over the edge of it, staring into the deep cold waters below, watching the waves batter against the rocky edge. He’d stood there every morning this last half-week, and he’d jumped and taken the plunge.

“Aurelie,” Aremu whispered, cutting short any other apologies. Her hand was on his cheek, still; she was staring wide-eyed up at him, glowing red, her other hand covering her mouth. Absurdly, he thought, she was still beautiful.

Aremu stroked her arm; he reached up, and teased her fingers away from her face, feeling the soft warm skin of her cheeks beneath her fingers. He took her hand in his, slowly, looking at it as if he had never seen it before. He lowered them together, out of the way, still intertwined.

He leaned forward. He went slowly; he didn’t hold her head still, or try to rush her, or swoop in to capture her mouth. There were inches between them, and he closed them a quarter by a quarter, drawing the moment out.

If she moved - if she flinched - if she pulled back even the slightest bit, he would stop. If she hadn’t meant it - if she didn’t want it - she had kissed him, but Aremu knew that didn’t meant he had any right to ask her to do it again.

He came in, closer and closer; if she let him, if she held still and waited for him, he would press his mouth to hers, diving with arms straight from the cliff towards the sea. He didn’t want a delicate brush of her lips with his; he wanted a kiss, firm and gentle, his closed mouth on hers, like plunging into the cold waters from a great height, and letting the shock of it ripple through him.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 28, 2720 - Afternoon | Inside the Cliff, Ibutatu Estate

A mistake, that's what that had been. One that she didn't know how to take back. Not, of course, that she hadn't wanted to do it. That was really the whole problem; she had wanted to, very much. For days. Aurelie tried to think of how long, and she really didn't know. It had only been a week, she thought with no small degree of despair.

Just a little mistake, though. Barely anything. Hardly even a kiss at all. Perhaps she could pretend she'd never done it. Perhaps, if she hadn't apologized immediately. Covered her mouth with her hand and stared at him, making it perfectly clear that she had meant to do so. There was no pretending, then. She looked down. What an idiot.

Aurelie.

Her breath caught, just a little, at the sound of her name again. Just that, nothing else. Anything she might have said scattered from her mind quite quickly. Aremu reached up to pull her hand away from her mouth. She could have stopped him, she thought. It would have been easy. She could have done a lot of things. She didn't; their fingers tangled together. Again.

It was quite possible that she had been wrong. All day—for days. She didn't quite know how that could be true, but Aremu was leaning forward. Not quickly; it was, actually, a little agonizing. There wasn't far to go. And yet somehow it seemed an ocean; it took an eternity to cross. So she could pull away, she thought. If she should want to.

She really was an idiot. Aremu got closer and closer, and Aurelie swallowed. She was an absolute fool. He had hit his head, part of her insisted. To take advantage of his acting so because of her own selfishness was wrong. But—she thought, and she thought, and wondered if maybe. Quite possibly. That was not actually what was happening after all. He hadn't hit his head yet, before, when the storm had first come on. Or the other night, no matter that he hadn't touched her in the slightest bit since. And she didn't think, really and most importantly, that injury would make such a liar out of him.

There was time to pull away, or to flinch, or. Aurelie hitched a sigh. For once, she thought, she should just stay out of her own way. She could do that; she knew she could do that. Aurelie let her eyes drift shut. Don't, she thought for a second—and she ignored it, firmly. The gap closed and he kissed her, unmistakably and deliberately. Aurelie gave up; her fingers tightened where their hands were clasped together and she leaned into the press of his mouth.

She had really, really wanted to do this, after all. So terribly badly.

"Ah," she said, very cleverly, when she drew away. She was smiling, she thought. If it was a normal kind of smile or stupid one was a different question; she rather thought it was the latter. One of her hands was still, still on his face. She left it here; it was a good place for it. "Well," she tried again, "uhm."

[Aremu Ediwo]

Afternoon, 28 Hamis, 2720
Inside the Cliff, Ibutatu Estate

Up until the moment when his lips brushed hers, Aremu had thought she would pull away. She had sighed, just a little, as he came close; he had been close enough then to feel the tickle of her exhale. He had nearly let that be enough of a no; perhaps he should have.

He hadn’t; he hadn’t, and he had leaned in and touched his lips to hers. Her fingers had tightened against his, and she had pressed back, answering the kiss - kissing him, too. She tasted like salt water, and her lips were chapped, and the kiss swept through him like the storm, crashed down on him.

Aurelie broke it first; she was smiling, and Aremu found he was grinning as well, just now. Her hand was cupping his cheek still, and the other one held tangled with his.

Well, Aurelie said through her smile, and then, um. It was, he thought, a beautiful smile. She was still curled against him, too; he could feel the warmth of her against the damp of the cave. He could only scarcely hear the rain and wind outside over the pounding of his heart, although he was half-aware of the sweep of heavy waves up the slope to the cave. High tide, he thought, with whatever he had left over to think with.

Aremu looked down at her, just a little. His head still hurt; he felt no less tired and strange than he had a few moments ago, and yet, as well, he felt irrevocably different. Perhaps it was the crossing of the line he had dreamed about, imagined, wished for.

There was no going back; absurdly, Aremu felt as if there had been no going back for a long time. He didn’t know where to trace it too; the letters, something in him said, and he would have shaken it away if his head didn’t ache so. On the ship, he thought, maybe, or on that first day in Dzum, or - he didn’t know.

His head did ache; it throbbed a little every time he bent it forward towards her. He didn’t mind; he would gladly pay such a price. He knew - he remembered - there had been reasons. The tiny brush of Aurelie’s lips had swept them all aside, and his head ached too much to try and dig them back up.

“May I kiss you again?” Aremu asked, softly; his thumb stroked over the back of her hand once more, slowly, longingly. They hadn’t gone far apart; he thought he could almost feel the breath of his words wash over her, and echo back. If she let him, he thought, he would kiss her again, just the same as before, slow and lingering, soft.

He didn’t want just one kiss, or two, Aremu knew; he wanted a dozen, a hundred, a thousand. He thought he could have kissed every freckle she had and it wouldn’t have been enough. Not here; not here, he knew that.

Have you...? He didn’t know how to ask. He would; he knew he had to. Just now, there was no need, no urgency. Just now, it would be enough to kiss her again.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 28, 2720 - Afternoon | Inside the Cliff, Ibutatu Estate

That grin is what did her in, Aurelie thought. That was her undoing, if she had to pick one specific thing instead of the flood of small things that had all added up to this moment. She had thought about it before, but there was really something in the way his dark, serious face transformed with it. He was handsome no matter what kind of face he was making (she had thought about that before as well), but when he smiled this much it was like the sun coming out after a storm. This close to her face, she didn't think there was anything she could do to resist it at all.

Aurelie found herself rather worried still about Aremu's head. He kept moving it around, and she didn't think all the jostling was such a good idea. Moving it to look at her, to speak to her, to kiss her as he had done. This was a very strange mix of feelings, all told. Equal parts concern and longing, bound up tight. The storm was still going outside. Aurelie could hear in a dim, distant kind of way that was hard to pick out from the rush of her own blood in her ears. If she spread her fingers just so, she could find the place on Aremu's neck where his pulse was strongest with the edge of her little finger.

"You may," Aurelie laughed as she said it, a little breathlessly. His thumb was moving over the back of her hand again, and that made her heart skip as much as any of the rest of it. She moved to close that little bit of distance this time; Aremu, after all, shouldn't move his head so much. And she had already come this far—she thought there was very little point in pretending about what she wanted now, even to herself.

The second was much like the first; soft and briny, no urgency or haste anywhere in it. It made her ache, in a part of her she didn't think could. She had never, she realized, kissed someone before in a way that wasn't laced with a particular kind of guilt, the kind that came from a need for secrecy. She really didn't know how long this would last—if it was something that had washed in with the storm, and would disappear when the clouds passed over them at last. But it wasn't a secret; she didn't have to keep part of her mind on making sure that nobody would find out.

What a very strange sort of feeling, to kiss someone without that kind of fear.

Different fear, yes. Oh, there was plenty of that. Some fears that were familiar, plenty that were new. And different guilt, too; she still wasn't sure this wasn't cruel of her. Worse, even, because she wanted much more than this. Not here. A hole in the rock was hardly the ideal venue for most of the things she wanted. Even she knew that much.

Oh, it didn't matter how long this would last, this moment. She had it now, and would hold onto it as long as she could. This time, Aurelie couldn't bring herself to pull away. She leaned in closer instead, her hands as an anchor against being completely swept away by her longing.

[Aremu Ediwo]

Afternoon, 28 Hamis, 2720
Inside the Cliff, Ibutatu Estate

Aurelie laughed when he asked, her whole face smiling. She didn’t wait for him, this time; she leaned in again, and she kissed him, as if taking what he had offered her, rather than waiting for it to be given.

Aremu’s eyes fluttered closed. Their hands were holding together, tight; she didn’t pull away, but crept closer, and he felt the brush of her against him, both damp and warm at once. They kissed; they found the rhythm of it between them, of breath and laughter and smiles, like looking up between strokes in the water; there was a give and take to it, and they both settled in, slow and even, finding the balance of it.

In time, Aremu let go of Aurelie’s hand, and gently shifted his hand to her back, instead. His neck was aching, and he thought he could have born it, but he also thought – maybe –

“Come here,” he whispered into her lips, easing her against him. She shifted, and settled into his lap. Aremu shifted a little, too, although he knew there wasn’t much hiding; he did his best, all the same. His right arm wrapped around her, careful, a little pressure from it without ever bringing his forearm into contact with her.

Aremu bent his neck and found her lips again; he scarcely needed to, as her head had tilted up to his already. His breathing was a little more hoarse, again, and he stifled a rough noise in his throat when she shifted, trembling a little. He took a deep breath, calming himself as best as he could; his left hand was on her side, and it took everything he had to keep it still.

She was eager; she was intent, as if kissing him correctly was deeply important to her. It ached, somewhere inside him, and he knew just how badly he wanted more. His hand crept over to her back again, up; his fingers threaded gently into her hair once more, cradling her head and shifting to kiss her lips once more, finding a new angle for them.

He didn’t shift her from his lap, when in time they came apart again, both breathing harder than before. Aremu kept his arms wrapped around her, and bent his head to brush a kiss on her forehead once more. His head had never stopped hurting, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind. It was well worth it; he should have suffered worse, and, he thought, gladly. He was almost glad to suffer for it; it was good, he thought, his mind hazy and sluggish, to know something of the price he should have to pay for such happiness.

He found he didn’t know what to say; he found he didn’t want to say anything, just then. He didn’t know that he could capture how he felt with words right now; there was only Aurelie in his arms, curled against his chest, and the soft salty warmth of her lips when he tilted his head down once more.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 28, 2720 - Afternoon | Inside the Cliff, Ibutatu Estate

For something that she knew (in the part of her that was still somewhat reasonable) she shouldn't be doing, Aurelie thought that kissing Aremu was actually very easy. Not quite comfortable, but not uncomfortable either; there was a pleasant kind of ease to it. She really didn't know what to make of herself and her behavior, but she would think about that later. She didn't want to think about anything right now that wasn't in front of her. Which narrowed her range of concerns rather considerably to Aremu, and kissing, and very little else.

Maybe just a little bit else, if one counted consideration for relative comfort as a distinct category. Aurelie reflected, a little dazed, that she should likely have felt more reservation about moving to climb into his lap. There were a few practical benefits to the position, though. Aurelie thought it was probably better if Aremu didn't have to tilt his head so much, for instance. Also... Well, she was sure there were more besides "she rather liked it"; forming the full list rapidly dwindled in her concerns.

Aurelie rather liked lots of things, it turned out. The noise he made in the back of his throat when she shifted a little, and the deep breath after. His hand on her head, fingers in her hair again, moving from where it had been at her side. Aurelie kept her own hand braced against his chest between them, grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt so it didn't go anywhere else. She never had moved the one against Aremu's cheek, except when she needed to briefly to settle herself. It remained there, like she needed to hold him in place or this would all disappear.

The kiss to her forehead when they drew apart again, she liked that too. And his warm, solid body underneath and in front of and around her. Somewhere in the pause she thought one of them might speak, but Aurelie felt rather strongly that she shouldn't. There was nothing she could say that was useful, or good, or even possibly intelligible. She smiled, and laughed a few times when the shifting became more awkward or when she had to pull away, inconveniently reminded that she needed to breathe, but she didn't say much of anything.

Aurelie really didn't know how long they were like that. There was no way to tell, with the storm outside and the waves steady and unrelenting. She didn't know, and she didn't care. She could quite happily have spent hours like this. Maybe they had.

They broke off eventually, not to pause, but because Aremu was exhausted and injured. If she stayed more or less where she was, she reasoned, and if she didn't fall asleep herself... Well, she would know, wouldn't she? If something was wrong. More wrong. Although what she would do if that were to happen, she hadn't quite worked out yet. It just felt important to her in some irrational, wordless space of her heart that she would be able to tell.

Aurelie adjusted herself slightly, but she was loathe to move too much. Where she was seemed good. She could, for example, lean her head against Aremu's chest and feel the steady rise and fall of it. She shifted, and set both of her hands at his sides, somewhere near her knees. She wouldn't sleep herself; she wouldn't. No matter how comfortable she was, how well she felt like she fit. This time she would stay awake. He was the one who needed rest. She was fine.

When she woke, it was to silence, and it made her heart seize. No, not silence—there was the reassuring sound of Aremu breathing, and the waves breaking steadily over the rock of the cave lower down. It took her a moment to place what was missing. The storm, she thought, had stopped. Aurelie rubbed at her eyes, guilty she had drifted off again. Nothing had happened, but...

She shifted and looked up; either Aremu had been awake already, or her wriggling into wakefulness had done it. She tilted her head back and smiled. "I think the storm has stopped."