give you, Tamras, Tamnet's daughter."
"Your regard means more to me than any token," I told her.
She smiled. "Then from this day let us be comrades in arms. Your apprenticeship is over."
I nodded, but I accepted her decision with mixed feelings.
Maara touched the frown lines on my brow. "Why does that make you unhappy?"
"My apprenticeship bound us together," I said. "What binds us now?"
With her fingertips she lifted my face to hers and kissed me.
The desire of the body we satisfied too quickly. I wanted to stay longer in that place where I felt our bodies mingle with each other until I knew what she was feeling as intimately as she did herself. Afterwards, as I lay exhausted in her arms, I let my mind ponder the meaning of desire and its fulfillment, as if it were possible to comprehend a mystery.
With pleasure come the things that matter. Could I name them? Trust, of course. Without trust, how could we so entirely unclothe ourselves? Sometimes, as I made love to her, I felt her rise up into me, felt my spirit welcome hers, make room for hers, let her come in where anyone else would have felt to me like an intruder. In my spirit's house, she was welcome everywhere.
I trusted her not to be careless with my heart or with my feelings. I trusted her to understand and to accept what might be broken or imperfect. In some dusty corner there may be things I tossed away, forgotten, things that might once have shamed me. I trusted her with those things too. I trusted her to accept me as she found me and to love me as I was, as I loved her.
Of course I accepted her completely, and everything about her. Her virtues I found admirable and her faults endearing. More than endearing. They filled me with compassion, because I knew their source. And for all these years she'd had so much patience with my faults. She must have loved me for a long time.
That thought startled me and made me wonder.
"When did you begin to love me?" I asked her.
She yawned. "I don't remember."
"When I revealed my love to you, you loved me then."
"Mmmm," she said.
"How long before that?"
"I don't know."
"A long time?"
"Yes," she whispered. "A long time."
"All summer?"
"Longer than that."
"All year?"
"Longer."
I leaned up on one elbow and looked down at her. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"What could I have said?"
"You could have told me about your feelings for me."
"I didn't know if they'd be welcome."
I was beginning to be impatient with her. How could her love for me ever have been unwelcome? "Why would you think that?"
"Because you had a lover."
"No I didn't." Then I remembered. "Oh," I said, and at once I understood what I had done. Without meaning to, I had allowed her to believe that for the second time she loved someone who loved someone else.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered.
"Hush," she said. "It doesn't matter."
"I should have told you about Sparrow long ago."
"It doesn't matter," she said again.
The thought that I had caused her pain was at that moment a cause of great pain to me.
"Of course it matters," I insisted.
"Why?"
"Because I hurt you."
She laughed at that. Then she slipped her arm around my waist and rolled me over onto my back. Her eyes sent a wave of desire through my body and at the same time kept me still, so that I could hear what she was about to tell me.
"Today," she said.
"What?"
"We have today."
"And tomorrow."
"Perhaps."
I opened my mouth to protest that of course we would have tomorrow and many more tomorrows after that, but she kissed me lightly on the lips, then laid her cheek against my cheek and whispered, "Be careful what you say. The gods may hear you."
Something kept me quiet. Instead of brushing her words aside, as I would have liked to do, I let their meaning settle around my heart, until I saw more clearly a side of her that she kept turned away from me. This was how she saw the world. It could take from her in a moment everything she loved. It could deny her anything she wanted. The world
"Your regard means more to me than any token," I told her.
She smiled. "Then from this day let us be comrades in arms. Your apprenticeship is over."
I nodded, but I accepted her decision with mixed feelings.
Maara touched the frown lines on my brow. "Why does that make you unhappy?"
"My apprenticeship bound us together," I said. "What binds us now?"
With her fingertips she lifted my face to hers and kissed me.
The desire of the body we satisfied too quickly. I wanted to stay longer in that place where I felt our bodies mingle with each other until I knew what she was feeling as intimately as she did herself. Afterwards, as I lay exhausted in her arms, I let my mind ponder the meaning of desire and its fulfillment, as if it were possible to comprehend a mystery.
With pleasure come the things that matter. Could I name them? Trust, of course. Without trust, how could we so entirely unclothe ourselves? Sometimes, as I made love to her, I felt her rise up into me, felt my spirit welcome hers, make room for hers, let her come in where anyone else would have felt to me like an intruder. In my spirit's house, she was welcome everywhere.
I trusted her not to be careless with my heart or with my feelings. I trusted her to understand and to accept what might be broken or imperfect. In some dusty corner there may be things I tossed away, forgotten, things that might once have shamed me. I trusted her with those things too. I trusted her to accept me as she found me and to love me as I was, as I loved her.
Of course I accepted her completely, and everything about her. Her virtues I found admirable and her faults endearing. More than endearing. They filled me with compassion, because I knew their source. And for all these years she'd had so much patience with my faults. She must have loved me for a long time.
That thought startled me and made me wonder.
"When did you begin to love me?" I asked her.
She yawned. "I don't remember."
"When I revealed my love to you, you loved me then."
"Mmmm," she said.
"How long before that?"
"I don't know."
"A long time?"
"Yes," she whispered. "A long time."
"All summer?"
"Longer than that."
"All year?"
"Longer."
I leaned up on one elbow and looked down at her. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"What could I have said?"
"You could have told me about your feelings for me."
"I didn't know if they'd be welcome."
I was beginning to be impatient with her. How could her love for me ever have been unwelcome? "Why would you think that?"
"Because you had a lover."
"No I didn't." Then I remembered. "Oh," I said, and at once I understood what I had done. Without meaning to, I had allowed her to believe that for the second time she loved someone who loved someone else.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered.
"Hush," she said. "It doesn't matter."
"I should have told you about Sparrow long ago."
"It doesn't matter," she said again.
The thought that I had caused her pain was at that moment a cause of great pain to me.
"Of course it matters," I insisted.
"Why?"
"Because I hurt you."
She laughed at that. Then she slipped her arm around my waist and rolled me over onto my back. Her eyes sent a wave of desire through my body and at the same time kept me still, so that I could hear what she was about to tell me.
"Today," she said.
"What?"
"We have today."
"And tomorrow."
"Perhaps."
I opened my mouth to protest that of course we would have tomorrow and many more tomorrows after that, but she kissed me lightly on the lips, then laid her cheek against my cheek and whispered, "Be careful what you say. The gods may hear you."
Something kept me quiet. Instead of brushing her words aside, as I would have liked to do, I let their meaning settle around my heart, until I saw more clearly a side of her that she kept turned away from me. This was how she saw the world. It could take from her in a moment everything she loved. It could deny her anything she wanted. The world
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