The Rogue Guardian

Chapter 82: The Light and the Darkness

Morane was standing in the doorway like a figure in a stained glass window, perfectly framed as if by the design of the glazier. The light rippled over every shade of brown in her hair and the impossible blackness of the folds of her cloak with all the reverence of light falling through the glass panes of a temple. But she was entirely, ridiculously alive.

Her voice hadn't changed at all, the way she dragged out the syllables of Nemia's name like she was making them mean something more and cocked her head to get loose wisps of hair out of her eyes.

God, her voice sounded good.

Nemia felt her throat close up like she'd never breathe again, and then she was jostling and stumbling her way out of bed, shedding blankets across the floor until she'd fallen into Morie's arms.

"Hey," Morie said, half-laughing. "It's just me."

Right, Nemia thought, wrapping her arms around Morie's neck as tight as she could, pressing her cheek against the warm patch of bare skin where Morie's cloak hung crooked and showing a scrap of the gold marks on her shoulder. It's just you.

She wanted to say something, even as simple as hello, but her chest had constricted so much she thought even her heart was having trouble beating. Words wouldn't come. Only tears started squeezing through her tightly closed eyes, soaking into Morie's shoulder.

"Hey, come on."

This close, she could feel the vibrations of Morie's voice in her core, and that helped somewhat. And she could feel her fingers in her hair, stroking repetitively, and one arm wrapped around her back holding her just as tightly.

"I can't decide whether or not this is worse than how Cara just started lecturing me immediately," Morie mused.

It stung a little, when she processed that, to realize that Morie had gone to see Cara before her, but it wasn't enough to ruin the warm, familiar-scented closeness of her. Nemia sniffled a little, testing her reserves of emotion, but decided she wasn't done crying and being held yet.

Morie seemed to sense this, holding her tighter. "Really, Nemia, you should hear the week I've had. The month I've had. I've missed you."

She only managed a strangled, slightly more coherent sob at that. What had Morie been doing without her? Nemia had been having just as much of a month over here.

Morie shifted a little, wrapping both arms around her and settling her chin on top of her head. "Is this about how I took Pitch? Because I swear I brought him back in perfect condition."

Of course Nemia didn't care about the horse — not compared to Morie, anyway. But she knew it was a joke and Morie's only familiar way of dealing with sobbing people. Trying to even out her breathing, she let herself relax and listen as Morie kept going.

"Honestly, with the bite he gave me, I'm inclined to say I'm the one in worse condition. I cannot believe you were responsible for training that horse."

Nemia grinned into her shoulder. "I trained him to stand up for himself." Her voice sounded watery and a little choked up, but at the same time it felt like every painful knot in her body was loosening. Crying gets the tension out, Cara would have said.

"I hate when anything is as bad-tempered as I am," Morie sighed. "At least I have the manners to use a blade instead of my teeth."

Nemia would have pointed out how that wasn't strictly true, considering one memorable incident several years ago, but she was distracted by Morie readjusting herself so she could kiss the side of Nemia's head, above her ear, the only place she could reach.