Inherent Heart (on hold)

Chapter 27

I knelt by a small, cold forest stream, and and looked at my rippling reflection. Coiled strands of hair hung by my face, as black as my mood. My violet eyes were dark and tightened, my lips parted in a silent gasp of pain, my look more haunted than even I had imagined.

Suddenly, I plunged my hands into the stream, and splashed the spring water onto me face, shattering my reflection and cleaning my face. I shuddered involuntarily as the icy water dripped down my face, washing away the salty tracks left by my tears. I stayed their for a moment, then leaped to my feet, wobbling slightly, unable to sit still any longer. Snatching my basket of fruit, I ran back to camp, practically threw the basket at a startled and bewildered Cameron, and entered my tent, zipping the door closed behind me.

As I always did when I had spare time and the gaping whole in my chest was bleeding, the dark cavern where my light had gone out especially dark, I pulled out His pack and opened it. Every time I did this, I would take out one more thing, whatever my hand first touched. My chest heaving with barely contained sobs and my labored breathing, I reached my hand into His familiar bag, the smell of my angel engulfing me in cloud of memories. I felt something smooth and worn, and closed my fingers over it. I drew it out and to my surprise, I saw a letter addressed to Jesse Angelus. Pain rippled across my face just as my reflection had, as I read his name, written in flowing cursive, clearly a woman's penmanship. I hesitated, unsure if I had any right to read it. But He had never kept anything, anything, from me, and I was the mother of His child. I opened it carefully, with only a tiny amount of guilt, but immensely curious. I unfolded the letter, and began to read.

Dear Jesse, it started. Seeing His name for the second time in one minute made my heart burn like acid. I blinked back fresh tears, and began again.

Dear Jesse,

I was overjoyed when I received your letter! You haven't written me in far too long, and your much missed words made me laugh and cry with happiness. I am glad you are trying out for the competition; it shows true Angelus spirit. I know you can take care of yourself, and I can only beg you to be careful. I hope that you are successful, and enjoy your adventures as much as you usually do. You never were one to sit idle. As for your other, less cheerful topic, your sister, Portia, was wounded, but she will make a speedy and full recovery. Skip too will be fine, and Elena was unharmed, thank god.

I greatly look forward to seeing you when you return, as does Portia. Skip regrets being unable to join us, but someone must stay with Elena, who is still too young to make a trip like that. Once again, be careful, have fun, and I love you.

Love,

Your Mother,

The Queen

I was so immersed in the rest of the letter, that I at first didn't register the way she had signed off. When my mind finally understood whet it said, I had to reread it several times to convince myself that was what it really said. “Much Love, Your Mother, The Queen” was how my Mother might sign her letters to me, but His? Why would His mother sign her letter's to Him that way? My Mother was the Queen, and the only other queen was the Queen of... the Elves. I knew that His mother was an Elf, but it was just so unlikely that she was the Queen of The Elves. Though in a way, it made sense. It would explain why He had been so afraid of hurting me with our differences, even though we were only half a species apart. It was all that uncommon anymore for royalty to marry “commoners,” even my own Mother had done it. But His fear would make more sense if our mothers were Queens of opposite species, mortal enemies. Our two worlds were at war, and here we had been, I, the daughter of the Queen of the Aberons, the heir to her throne, and He, the son of the Queen of the Elves, the Prince. No wonder He had been so sure my Mother would hate Him, the son of her enemy. My silver tears spilled out of my eyes as I smiled, realizing that when I had called Jesse my Prince Charming, I had been closer than I ever could have dreamed. I wish I could hold Him and tell Him that it didn't matter to me what He was, because I loved who He was. I just wanted to kiss Him just once more, and tell Him thank you and how much I loved Him. The strength of my yearning, loss, and love left me breathless for a minute. How could He be gone?