Mist swirled, white upon white. A single figure stands in the mist, in a world where no one or no thing can reach. Voices on the mists have floated to the figure;
“Teleperien awake!” Came a commanding order. The owner of the voice held power, she felt it.
“Tele, come back.” The second held a different tone, one of concern and friendship.
“Mother, it’s me Erwyn.” A young and higher pitched voice. This one pricked her. Her mother’s heart swelled, but was not enough to draw her from the self imposed prison.
Memories replayed themselves one by one. Oh yes, all of them. They paraded through the mists as if she were watching a play on stage.
The day long ago when she saw Philippe off, he on board the Lady Venture setting out to trade for goods that would go to her people in Eldicor. She stood on the dock until the ship sailed out of view.
Eonwë’s arrival. Surrender of the Silmarils, the ensuing battle. Xenograg almost loosing his arm.
Her long empty nights where she stood at the window aching for the return of her husband. Night after night until she could stand no longer. The thought of Philippe never returning was a cold sword that sliced through her soul with cruel disregard.
Then Vanion. Her capture, imprisonment, torture and used for the sadistic pleasure of her tormentors. The rescue by Gwindor, Xenograg, Rhaine and Artemus. Her wounds refusing to heal.. and when healed by the wizard Alatar, the presence of Vanion’s evil was left undetected. In her soul, her heart, the evil took root and slowly grew in strength.
Within the mists Tele watched herself slide further and further into madness. Her disregard for others, the insults.. and finally her infidelity. She watched herself with this unknown man, calling himself Jack Grey. For all she knew it could be a false name. Be that as it may, she felt the shame, the guilt and remorse. He tormented her from a distance, a grinning evil face, voices that called her, “a whore”, “a prostitute”.
Her confession. Philippe’s understandable reaction. She no longer felt herself worthy of any man’s affection. What grieved her more than the act itself was how she wounded her husband. The look on his face appeared again and again. The memory taunted her, leering faces accusing her of the worst sort of transgression.
Who could respect her? Who could look at her? How could she guide Erwyn to the throne when she herself fouled it?
These thoughts and visions drove Tele deeper and deeper inside the prison of her own mind. Death would be welcomed.
Walking a Thin Line
Moderator: Xenograg
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QueenTeleperien
- Adventurer
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- Joined: Tue Jun 01, 2004 2:13 pm
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Philippe de Bouillon
- Adventurer
- Posts: 29
- Joined: Fri Jan 06, 2006 7:13 pm
- Location: Kindgom of Eldicor, Rhydin
Alatar had sent Erwyn from the room, and then the old wizard closed the door and faced Philippe - neither judging nor casting blame, for he understood the way of mortals. He motioned for Philippe to follow and drags a chair with him.
Philippe didn't need any invitation from the wizard to move near his wife. He rushed to her side and took her hand in his. "What have you people been doing to my wife? You magical asses treat her body like a game room for your marvelous displays of power. I hope you're happy with how magic destroys. It always comes at a cost. I’m a mere mortal and even I know this." His hand moved over Tele's forehead and he placed a kiss upon it while the wizard was moving over the chair by her head.
Alatar studied Philippe a moment. "Your anger is understood." He was calm and unperturbed. "However, this is a magical land, for both good and evil. This was my fault. I overlooked the poison that was introduced into her soul."
Philippe looked upon his wife's face and studied the pain written there. "You cannot have a fire without something being destroyed, even if that fire is used for good things - warmth and cooking a meal. So it apparently is with magic. Even when it's used for good, it comes at a price and each time something is destroyed, even if it's just a small piece of the heart or mind of the one wielding it."
The wizard pointed to the chair that was now next to the bed at Tele's head. "Philippe, what I plan to do is open your mind to Teleperien's. You will see all her memories and, she will see yours. I warn you, you may not be able to handle this. Not that you are weak or a coward, but it may over come you.
He looked up at the wizard, "I'm ready for whatever you must do." His hand ran over Tele's arm. "Let's not wait."
The wizard nodded and walked behind Philippe. He laid his gnarled hand on Tele's forehead and the other on Philippe, and at once they were in a world of mist. On the outward, a white power surrounded the three of them.
Philippe was angry over all that his wife had been made to suffer. Erwyn was correct in her explanation of the suffering her mother had been through. The wizard said he would see her memories and she would see his. He didn't want to see her memories. They were for her alone. Yet if it was necessary to get his wife back, he would do whatever it would take.
Slowly at first, memories flowed past the pirate - their first meeting, their wedding, the battle that lost Philippe into another time. Then Llewyss GreyMantle's death, the trip to Gondor to bury the ranger. The images sped up, flashing one by one by the mind of Philippe until at last it slowed to a crawl at the most recent memories. The impact of her torture slammed Tele and she visibly jerked. She appeared far off in their minds.
He watched the scenario passing before him like some macabre parade of good and bad times. The good images he wanted to reach out and grasp, the bad made him want to weep. He wondered if she was seeing the same within him - the memories of him coming off the ship, their first meal, the walk in the garden, the struggle in France, tortures in the land far to the south.
Far off, Teleperien too watched the memories of her beloved. She had seen how he suffered even when she was held by the taint. She felt the horrible grief and helplessness as she saw the warm waters churning with blood and bodies, and the fish that feasted on the flesh. She wanted to reach out to him in his cell to hold him to her and heal his hurts. But, as it is but a figment within their minds, she allowed it to pull her along.
The wizard said to Philippe softly, "Your minds have met. Call out to her Philippe."
A figure stood off in the distance of Philippe’s mind. He heard the voice of the wizard instructing him to do what he has wanted to do, but could not. He tried to speak, but it seemed that something was cutting off the very air to his lungs and nothing would come out. Then he saw a figure standing in the distance. He moved slowly toward the figure and it began to take form. It was his wife. He opened his mouth to speak once again, and as happens in a fitful nightmare his voice was cut off and nothing came out. He was desperate. He rose up on his toes and then bent himself over, crying out, expelling the "air" within him in a desperate shout, "TELE!"
Philippe didn't need any invitation from the wizard to move near his wife. He rushed to her side and took her hand in his. "What have you people been doing to my wife? You magical asses treat her body like a game room for your marvelous displays of power. I hope you're happy with how magic destroys. It always comes at a cost. I’m a mere mortal and even I know this." His hand moved over Tele's forehead and he placed a kiss upon it while the wizard was moving over the chair by her head.
Alatar studied Philippe a moment. "Your anger is understood." He was calm and unperturbed. "However, this is a magical land, for both good and evil. This was my fault. I overlooked the poison that was introduced into her soul."
Philippe looked upon his wife's face and studied the pain written there. "You cannot have a fire without something being destroyed, even if that fire is used for good things - warmth and cooking a meal. So it apparently is with magic. Even when it's used for good, it comes at a price and each time something is destroyed, even if it's just a small piece of the heart or mind of the one wielding it."
The wizard pointed to the chair that was now next to the bed at Tele's head. "Philippe, what I plan to do is open your mind to Teleperien's. You will see all her memories and, she will see yours. I warn you, you may not be able to handle this. Not that you are weak or a coward, but it may over come you.
He looked up at the wizard, "I'm ready for whatever you must do." His hand ran over Tele's arm. "Let's not wait."
The wizard nodded and walked behind Philippe. He laid his gnarled hand on Tele's forehead and the other on Philippe, and at once they were in a world of mist. On the outward, a white power surrounded the three of them.
Philippe was angry over all that his wife had been made to suffer. Erwyn was correct in her explanation of the suffering her mother had been through. The wizard said he would see her memories and she would see his. He didn't want to see her memories. They were for her alone. Yet if it was necessary to get his wife back, he would do whatever it would take.
Slowly at first, memories flowed past the pirate - their first meeting, their wedding, the battle that lost Philippe into another time. Then Llewyss GreyMantle's death, the trip to Gondor to bury the ranger. The images sped up, flashing one by one by the mind of Philippe until at last it slowed to a crawl at the most recent memories. The impact of her torture slammed Tele and she visibly jerked. She appeared far off in their minds.
He watched the scenario passing before him like some macabre parade of good and bad times. The good images he wanted to reach out and grasp, the bad made him want to weep. He wondered if she was seeing the same within him - the memories of him coming off the ship, their first meal, the walk in the garden, the struggle in France, tortures in the land far to the south.
Far off, Teleperien too watched the memories of her beloved. She had seen how he suffered even when she was held by the taint. She felt the horrible grief and helplessness as she saw the warm waters churning with blood and bodies, and the fish that feasted on the flesh. She wanted to reach out to him in his cell to hold him to her and heal his hurts. But, as it is but a figment within their minds, she allowed it to pull her along.
The wizard said to Philippe softly, "Your minds have met. Call out to her Philippe."
A figure stood off in the distance of Philippe’s mind. He heard the voice of the wizard instructing him to do what he has wanted to do, but could not. He tried to speak, but it seemed that something was cutting off the very air to his lungs and nothing would come out. Then he saw a figure standing in the distance. He moved slowly toward the figure and it began to take form. It was his wife. He opened his mouth to speak once again, and as happens in a fitful nightmare his voice was cut off and nothing came out. He was desperate. He rose up on his toes and then bent himself over, crying out, expelling the "air" within him in a desperate shout, "TELE!"
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Philippe de Bouillon
- Adventurer
- Posts: 29
- Joined: Fri Jan 06, 2006 7:13 pm
- Location: Kindgom of Eldicor, Rhydin
On the bed Tele gave a violent shudder. Inward she stared without comprehension. Her thoughts floated to him. "Philippe, how came you here?"
The wizard, surprisingly strong, held his hands in place, his face concentrating, lending Philippe the strength he needed for this.
She moved closer to him..
Outwardly, Tele took deeper breaths and her chest moved up and down under the sheets.
A look of disbelief was on her face. It was then replaced by one of hope and her total devotion glowed in her eyes. She fought through the mist to reach Philippe.
Philippe walked toward her. His body felt like it was being constrained as if trying to walk in a pool of slime. Slowly he made his way toward her. "Tele! Tele, mon cheri!!"
Mist shaped like hands pulled on Tele's arms. The mocking voices floated around her. "Whore! Unfaithful!" Tele fought back to rid the hands from her.
The wizard's aid came at the right time. He pushed the hands back from Tele and cast the voices into the blackness.
Philippe looked at Tele...deep into her eyes, "My love...I'm here...your Philippe...your husband."
Her mind free, she reached out and took his hand, grasping it tightly. Outwardly, her hand grabbed Philippe's knee. There was a loud gasp. Her eyes snapped open.
The wizard sighed and immediately released Philippe.
Inwardly Philippe reached out and took her hand, outwardly his eyes sprang over as she grasped his knee and the wizard released him.
The wizard stood back so as not to intrude.
Tele looked around a little confused. She saw her husband and her mouth curved into her old, happy smile. She lifted his hand to her mouth and kissed it.
Philippe smiled at his wife and watched her kiss his hand. "Welcome home, my love."
"I love you," she whispered softly, her hand clasping his. "I love you.”
In the background Alatar was busy mixing something on the small table.
"Je t’aime, mon cheri....Je t’aime." He brough his face close to hers and kissed her cheek.
The old wizard looked rather pleased as he brought two vials over to the bed. He handed one to Philippe. "Please help her take this, it will send her into a deep sleep. Tomorrow, she will be well enough to rise. And there is also one for you Philippe." The old wizard gave him a pleased smile. "You withstood what even the staunchest would have been brought to their knees."
Philippe held Tele's head and brought the vial to her lips so that she could drink. He laid her hand back down on the pillow. He looked to the wizard, "I have no wish to sleep."
He nodded. "I expected as much. It is here if you require it."
"Thank you. I just want to sit with my wife and watch over her while she sleeps."
“I will leave you to her then. You acted with courage Philippe. I honor you for it." The wizard nodded to Philippe and watched as the elf drifted off. He opened the door. "I will remain here a few days to make sure all is well."
Philippe watched him go. "Thank you."
The wizard closed the door.
The wizard, surprisingly strong, held his hands in place, his face concentrating, lending Philippe the strength he needed for this.
She moved closer to him..
Outwardly, Tele took deeper breaths and her chest moved up and down under the sheets.
A look of disbelief was on her face. It was then replaced by one of hope and her total devotion glowed in her eyes. She fought through the mist to reach Philippe.
Philippe walked toward her. His body felt like it was being constrained as if trying to walk in a pool of slime. Slowly he made his way toward her. "Tele! Tele, mon cheri!!"
Mist shaped like hands pulled on Tele's arms. The mocking voices floated around her. "Whore! Unfaithful!" Tele fought back to rid the hands from her.
The wizard's aid came at the right time. He pushed the hands back from Tele and cast the voices into the blackness.
Philippe looked at Tele...deep into her eyes, "My love...I'm here...your Philippe...your husband."
Her mind free, she reached out and took his hand, grasping it tightly. Outwardly, her hand grabbed Philippe's knee. There was a loud gasp. Her eyes snapped open.
The wizard sighed and immediately released Philippe.
Inwardly Philippe reached out and took her hand, outwardly his eyes sprang over as she grasped his knee and the wizard released him.
The wizard stood back so as not to intrude.
Tele looked around a little confused. She saw her husband and her mouth curved into her old, happy smile. She lifted his hand to her mouth and kissed it.
Philippe smiled at his wife and watched her kiss his hand. "Welcome home, my love."
"I love you," she whispered softly, her hand clasping his. "I love you.”
In the background Alatar was busy mixing something on the small table.
"Je t’aime, mon cheri....Je t’aime." He brough his face close to hers and kissed her cheek.
The old wizard looked rather pleased as he brought two vials over to the bed. He handed one to Philippe. "Please help her take this, it will send her into a deep sleep. Tomorrow, she will be well enough to rise. And there is also one for you Philippe." The old wizard gave him a pleased smile. "You withstood what even the staunchest would have been brought to their knees."
Philippe held Tele's head and brought the vial to her lips so that she could drink. He laid her hand back down on the pillow. He looked to the wizard, "I have no wish to sleep."
He nodded. "I expected as much. It is here if you require it."
"Thank you. I just want to sit with my wife and watch over her while she sleeps."
“I will leave you to her then. You acted with courage Philippe. I honor you for it." The wizard nodded to Philippe and watched as the elf drifted off. He opened the door. "I will remain here a few days to make sure all is well."
Philippe watched him go. "Thank you."
The wizard closed the door.
The young princess had slipped into the queen’s bedroom while Alatar the white wizard drew out the taint. She watched from a far corner, both fists to her mouth. Her mother screaming.. then was silent. Silent as death.
Erwyn was terrified.
When she had arrived with Philippe, Alatar gently asked her to leave the room, her fear multiplied ten fold. What if her mother died? Crying she flew to the library, falling face first on the couch. Erwyn sobbed until she fell into the exhausted sleep that accompanies such emotional upheaval. Dreams danced through her mind, memory intermingled with images, distorted and fragmented
Her conscious mind floated to the surface as she felt herself being lifted off the couch. Erwyn was vaguely aware of a hallway, stairs and finally her room. In her room someone was removing her cloak. She asked in a drowsy voice.
“Mother?”
“She is fine. Tomorrow will bring good tidings. Rest for now.”
She was laid on the bed, covers pulled to her shoulder. Now a cool hand laid on her forehead. Waves of comfort and warmth soothed her, sending her into a dreamless slumber.
Erwyn was terrified.
When she had arrived with Philippe, Alatar gently asked her to leave the room, her fear multiplied ten fold. What if her mother died? Crying she flew to the library, falling face first on the couch. Erwyn sobbed until she fell into the exhausted sleep that accompanies such emotional upheaval. Dreams danced through her mind, memory intermingled with images, distorted and fragmented
Her conscious mind floated to the surface as she felt herself being lifted off the couch. Erwyn was vaguely aware of a hallway, stairs and finally her room. In her room someone was removing her cloak. She asked in a drowsy voice.
“Mother?”
“She is fine. Tomorrow will bring good tidings. Rest for now.”
She was laid on the bed, covers pulled to her shoulder. Now a cool hand laid on her forehead. Waves of comfort and warmth soothed her, sending her into a dreamless slumber.
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Xenograg
- Expert Adventurer
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- Location: Dojo Darelir (Rhydin City) or Xenodar
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Xenograg retreats to Nom's tower. The Istari had wasted no time in acting, and Xenograg was shocked by his dispatch. The Wizard was not to be refused, and Xenograg manhandled Teleperien up to her chambers and held her on the bed as ordered. Alatar apparently succeeded in drawing out the magical poison, but the Queen now lay in a traumatic coma. Alatar agreed that Xenograg was not needed for the moment, and the Darelir withdrew directly.
Climbing the observation room at the top of the tower, Xenograg sits cross-legged upon the floor and meditates to calm himself. He also prays to both his own patron, the mother-goddess Arhis, and Teleperien's, the Vala Elbereth.
Climbing the observation room at the top of the tower, Xenograg sits cross-legged upon the floor and meditates to calm himself. He also prays to both his own patron, the mother-goddess Arhis, and Teleperien's, the Vala Elbereth.
"The stupidest creative act is still a creative act, and that the real gap isn't between the mediocre and great work. The real gap is between getting started and doing nothing. If you've created something, even if it's stupid, you've put yourself in a position to do more." - Clay Shirky
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QueenTeleperien
- Adventurer
- Posts: 79
- Joined: Tue Jun 01, 2004 2:13 pm
Afternoon sun filtered through the many paned windows, its rays caught the glass splintering them into prisms of light. Alatar had gone and Philippe had set there all the while Tele slept, through the morning and into the afternoon. He looked upon her face, seeing the woman he loved - the only woman he ever loved. Occasionally he'd take her hand in his and bring it to his lips, but mostly he just sat there watching over her.
Like a bubble floating the surface of a pond, Teleperien feels herself waking. As the bubble pops a soft intake of breathe and she stirs. Slowly she opens her eyes. Immediately all of Philippe’s attention was upon her face. She blinked and he quickly took her hand in his. "Tele? Do you hear me? It's me, Philippe."
At first it didn’t make sense. Her gaze moves around the room and then up into a rugged, handsome face. She lifted a hand to his cheek. Very softly she says "Philippe! Have you been here long?"
Philippe smiled and replied. "Since this morning. You needed a lot of rest. How are you feeling?"
Tele didn’t answer at once. All that happened before this very moment seemed far away, dream like. The constant turmoil and conflict within had gone; peace unlike any she had before flooded her mind and soul. The events slowly returned to her. One picture in her mind was Philippe entering her mind, she saw him from afar. Calling to her, Tele was pulled forward, Philippe’s hand outstretched, straining to lean as he could go.
“I.. feel.. very peaceful, stronger. You came for me. Didn't you?”
“Yes, my love, I came here for you. Where else could I possibly be but by your side?"
All that happened before, the hurt and pain she caused Philippe, yet he still returned and drew her from the self imposed prison. Gratefulness and joy bubbled up.
She struggled to sit up; Philippe helped her into a sitting position. His hands strong yet gentle on her. Tele did notice the tell-tale signs of weariness around his eyes. “Have you had any rest?”
His smile conveyed all the love he had for her. "No, I haven't. But it's okay. If you are well, that in itself refreshes my spirit."
“I do not remember much. What happened? Was the wizard Alatar here?”
"Yes, love...he came and arranged for the entire process. Without his magic, I could never have reached you."
He kissed her hand over and over. Swinging her legs over the side of her bed, she leaned over and laid the free slender hand on his cheek, she looked into his eyes. "I thought it was a dream." She said softly. “It wasn’t.”
"No, love. It wasn't a dream. It was you and I coming together once more...as we once were nothing between us but our own love." His accented voice replied as her hand traces his cheek and along his jaw line. Again she marveled.
She gently kissed his face. “I will always remember this.”
His lips trailed across her cheek, “I always come for you. Sometimes it takes three years...but never again. I'll always be here for you." His lips met hers and he kissed her deeply. Her hand moved down his back, surrendering to his kiss, her body melding to his. His strong arms pulled her off the bed and into his lap, kissing her deep and slowly.
"I have longed for you, missed you with my soul." Kissing with each word.
The furnace of her heart burned without hindrance, it reflected in her eyes. She hugged him close. "Philippe." She whispers his name again and again. His arms tightened around her.
"It's so good to have you back, my dearest”.
She pulled back slightly only to find his mouth again. His fiery mouth kissed deeper and hard, as if starved, conveying his hunger for her. The love that had been held hostage within her breaks free. The long buried passion burst through, true, deep and full.
them. Her kisses grow deeper, true, deep and full She holds no thing back, her entire being is now his. Only his. Tele’s hand travels down his chest. All her past suffering, are dream like mists.
He responds to her love, still unsure if she is well enough to make love, but he wants her so very much. His kisses move to her neck and then to her ear where he whispers, "I want you."
"I want you. All of you." she softly breathes into his ear. As the rekindled love grew, so did her strength. The love fed her, more than any spell.
He lifted her easily, putting her on the bed and laid next to her. He cradled her head with is arms, kisses trailing across her face. Slowly her long fingers find the ties of his shirt, opening to his chest. Her hands moved inside her hands on his bare skin, pushing his shirt off him. His kisses were met with soft sighs, she whispers light as air. “I love you.”
Philippe’s hand worked at her clothing, removing her shirt as his was also discarded. He took her into his arms and felt her breast against his chest as he kissed her again. She tipped her body toward his, molding against him. Her fingers now loosing his breeches as Philippe drew off the last of her clothes. Both naked, body to body, Philippe finally felt he was really home. One long slender leg wrapped around his.
"I love you so much, Tele."
“I love you Philippe, with all of who I am.”
Both sets of hands explored each other’s bodies, reaching to those parts reserved only for each other, each touch ecstasy. Her eyes search his face. "I love you Philippe.. with all of me."
Looking into her eyes he smiled. "You are my love...my only love."
Arms were on each side of her head, he kissed deeply; together they pushed to greater and greater heights. First one then the other exploded in pure ecstasy. They clung to each other as their hearts beat wildly. Slowly they released each other, untangling their limbs. Tele murmured soft elvish in his ear, “Tiro. Él eria e môr” (Look, a star rises from the darkness)
Sinking into each other’s arms he whispers into her hair, “I love you so much.”
Tele gave a soft laugh; a laugh of joy and delight. Philippe flooded her face with waves of kisses, drenching her with affection.
“I am home at last. We are finally back together.”
“Yes.” She murmured. “We are.”
Like a bubble floating the surface of a pond, Teleperien feels herself waking. As the bubble pops a soft intake of breathe and she stirs. Slowly she opens her eyes. Immediately all of Philippe’s attention was upon her face. She blinked and he quickly took her hand in his. "Tele? Do you hear me? It's me, Philippe."
At first it didn’t make sense. Her gaze moves around the room and then up into a rugged, handsome face. She lifted a hand to his cheek. Very softly she says "Philippe! Have you been here long?"
Philippe smiled and replied. "Since this morning. You needed a lot of rest. How are you feeling?"
Tele didn’t answer at once. All that happened before this very moment seemed far away, dream like. The constant turmoil and conflict within had gone; peace unlike any she had before flooded her mind and soul. The events slowly returned to her. One picture in her mind was Philippe entering her mind, she saw him from afar. Calling to her, Tele was pulled forward, Philippe’s hand outstretched, straining to lean as he could go.
“I.. feel.. very peaceful, stronger. You came for me. Didn't you?”
“Yes, my love, I came here for you. Where else could I possibly be but by your side?"
All that happened before, the hurt and pain she caused Philippe, yet he still returned and drew her from the self imposed prison. Gratefulness and joy bubbled up.
She struggled to sit up; Philippe helped her into a sitting position. His hands strong yet gentle on her. Tele did notice the tell-tale signs of weariness around his eyes. “Have you had any rest?”
His smile conveyed all the love he had for her. "No, I haven't. But it's okay. If you are well, that in itself refreshes my spirit."
“I do not remember much. What happened? Was the wizard Alatar here?”
"Yes, love...he came and arranged for the entire process. Without his magic, I could never have reached you."
He kissed her hand over and over. Swinging her legs over the side of her bed, she leaned over and laid the free slender hand on his cheek, she looked into his eyes. "I thought it was a dream." She said softly. “It wasn’t.”
"No, love. It wasn't a dream. It was you and I coming together once more...as we once were nothing between us but our own love." His accented voice replied as her hand traces his cheek and along his jaw line. Again she marveled.
She gently kissed his face. “I will always remember this.”
His lips trailed across her cheek, “I always come for you. Sometimes it takes three years...but never again. I'll always be here for you." His lips met hers and he kissed her deeply. Her hand moved down his back, surrendering to his kiss, her body melding to his. His strong arms pulled her off the bed and into his lap, kissing her deep and slowly.
"I have longed for you, missed you with my soul." Kissing with each word.
The furnace of her heart burned without hindrance, it reflected in her eyes. She hugged him close. "Philippe." She whispers his name again and again. His arms tightened around her.
"It's so good to have you back, my dearest”.
She pulled back slightly only to find his mouth again. His fiery mouth kissed deeper and hard, as if starved, conveying his hunger for her. The love that had been held hostage within her breaks free. The long buried passion burst through, true, deep and full.
them. Her kisses grow deeper, true, deep and full She holds no thing back, her entire being is now his. Only his. Tele’s hand travels down his chest. All her past suffering, are dream like mists.
He responds to her love, still unsure if she is well enough to make love, but he wants her so very much. His kisses move to her neck and then to her ear where he whispers, "I want you."
"I want you. All of you." she softly breathes into his ear. As the rekindled love grew, so did her strength. The love fed her, more than any spell.
He lifted her easily, putting her on the bed and laid next to her. He cradled her head with is arms, kisses trailing across her face. Slowly her long fingers find the ties of his shirt, opening to his chest. Her hands moved inside her hands on his bare skin, pushing his shirt off him. His kisses were met with soft sighs, she whispers light as air. “I love you.”
Philippe’s hand worked at her clothing, removing her shirt as his was also discarded. He took her into his arms and felt her breast against his chest as he kissed her again. She tipped her body toward his, molding against him. Her fingers now loosing his breeches as Philippe drew off the last of her clothes. Both naked, body to body, Philippe finally felt he was really home. One long slender leg wrapped around his.
"I love you so much, Tele."
“I love you Philippe, with all of who I am.”
Both sets of hands explored each other’s bodies, reaching to those parts reserved only for each other, each touch ecstasy. Her eyes search his face. "I love you Philippe.. with all of me."
Looking into her eyes he smiled. "You are my love...my only love."
Arms were on each side of her head, he kissed deeply; together they pushed to greater and greater heights. First one then the other exploded in pure ecstasy. They clung to each other as their hearts beat wildly. Slowly they released each other, untangling their limbs. Tele murmured soft elvish in his ear, “Tiro. Él eria e môr” (Look, a star rises from the darkness)
Sinking into each other’s arms he whispers into her hair, “I love you so much.”
Tele gave a soft laugh; a laugh of joy and delight. Philippe flooded her face with waves of kisses, drenching her with affection.
“I am home at last. We are finally back together.”
“Yes.” She murmured. “We are.”
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