Storm Born Book One

Chapter Ten.

They had been lucky still no sign of the men that followed them and if he still wanted hope that they had a good lead on them they would have to leave in the morning. They had taken a day resting by the stream, and true to Rosalind's assurances the boy, had made a quick recovery and by afternoon he was even able to take a little food. As he could see a good distance in all directions he had risked a small fire and they had warmed him some oats. They had no milk so water had to suffice but it was warm and better than nothing Rosalind, had not felt that they should risk his stomach yet with the dried meat and cheese. 

He smiled as Rosalind spooned the oat mush into Darius, he was smiling softly at her, his arms wobbling from the strain of holding himself up.  Ned moved to sit on the ground behind him, pulling the boy back to sit against his chest, holding him steady as Rosalind continued feeding him he felt cool to the touch now his fever was broken, and a good night's sleep would help him to recover.  After feeding the boy Edward laid him back down covering him in a fur cover to keep him warm he was soon drifting back to sleep again. He walked over to the stream squatting to watch as Rosalind rinsed off the bowl and spoon and washed out the pot. He never grew tired of watching her, he wondered how he had never noticed how soft-spoken she was, she had an elegance to her that had never been evident at the tavern, but since they had begun their journey it was becoming more and more so, he suspected that her tavern persona had been a mask, a play to hide her true self from others.

"Have you looked your fill Edward" she smiled still looking down at the water as she used the fine grit on the stream bed to scrape the pot clean.

"You seem to be a different person, Rosalind, you do not seem to be your old self"

She paused her scrubbing "Is...is that a bad thing?". 

Her face had not changed but her voice had tensed, he felt the tension through the mate bond.

he stretched out his hand placing it on her arm, "Nothing you do is bad" he frowned with concern he could see the tears pricking the corner of her eyes, he was confused he had not meant to upset her she dropped the pan as he pulled her to him "Why are you crying", 

She wiped her eyes brushing the tears away "It is nothing Edward you should check on Darius I am fine", she tried to push away from him but his grip tightened.

"It's something, and Darius is sleeping, now tell me what is wrong I cannot bear to see you weep".

She bowed her head cheeks flushed, "I feel unclean, I am not worthy of you. I know you say it does not matter but it does to me I wish I could have come to you... pure, I wish that ..."

He clamped his mouth onto hers stopping her speaking with a searing kiss his hand settled at the base of her back and pulled her to him, deepening the kiss. his tongue explored every crevice of her mouth stopping only to breathe, he pulled back from her.

"You are my everything I accept you for who you are past, present, and future you are mine now and that is all that matters to me. I love you and it hurts me when you feel so badly about yourself". he had wanted to talk to her about being Fey and going to her people in Elsinore but now was not the time.  She needed his reassurance she was his everything, It hurt him to think that even now she would feel that way about herself it was going to take time for her to be convinced of her worth.

"You are worthy of me Rosalind of course you are why can you not believe me ?" he pleaded "You are everything to me". He wrapped her in his arms holding her close whispering soothing words to her as she sobbed in his arms, slowly the sobbing slowed to a stop. "There better now" He smiled down at her she nodded and gave him a small smile. he held her close to him rubbing soothing circles on her back. he buried his face in her neck breathing in her scent it always calmed him to do this. It had not gone unnoticed by him that she no longer called him Ned he missed it, but figured it was for the same reason he no longer called her Rosie, it was a closing off of the past, a reinvention of sorts. His guilt for the way he had treated her in the past still ate at him so he could understand fully why Rosalind felt the way she did, after all, he had been one of those men, and he would spend the rest of his life if necessary making it up to her.