Categories > Books > Dragonlance
Okay, this is my first fanfic for Dragonlance up on FicWad. I would greatly appreciate it if you reviewed.
I don't own any of the charcters Mirrorstone/Dragonlance/Other randoms do.
I guess some would call this a bit of an alternate universe, but it's just me changing it to the way I like it. That's the whole point of fanfics, right?
Oh well, I'll stop my rambling, and please, please, please don't forget to review.
His Nearra
Davyn nodded in Tu’s direction in a silent thanks, everything about him was sullen. She had quickly retreated. The second-mate didn’t want to get caught in the middle of another of Icefire and Davyn’s own arguments, whether it be about the best way to get to the last cursed wizard, or one of their many other usuals. Their most repetitive, she’d taken note, had been of Nearra’s use of magic.
The young ranger raised his clenched fist, readying to pound on the door, to alert the elf and Nearra of his presence.
Not that Nearra would notice if I were standing right in front of her these days, he thought with bitter contempt.
Who the anger was directed at not even he knew for sure. Icefire was somewhere at the top of the list in Davyn’s eyes thought, that was for sure.
“Please, Icefire,” Nearra sounded as if she’d been just giggling, her voice slowly changing to that of a solemn tone. “I really need to talk to you,” her voice was grave, Davyn’s fist wavering inches from the door to Icefire’s cabin.
After a moment of thought and a small, barely noticeable sigh, his hand fell back to his side. He waited silently, in hopes of hearing what was being passed between the two.
“Then I’ll listen,” the elf replied, mirth clear in his voice.
There was a long pause and Davyn kept his breathing slow and steady so he could make out what was being passed between the two.
“It’s―,” the girl paused. She sounded worried, sorrowful almost. “It’s about Davyn,” she paused again.
Davyn closed his eyes and took a deep calming breath before turning and walking away, not wanting to hear any more of what was being passed between the two.
“What’s the boy done this time?” Icefire’s voice rang clear to the retreating young man’s ears.
A snarl was evident on Davyn’s face as he stormed to his cabin, the night breeze not seeming to affect the young ranger. His nose twitched slightly in agitation as he pulled open the door, slamming it shut behind him. The crew paid no mind to the angered ranger.
Such outbursts were expected of him. Everyone knew that it was best to leave him alone at such times. Everyone did. Maybe that was what was driving him under.
Once the door was closed the ranger fell hard against the splintering wood that was the door, his back making a loud thump noise as it connected with the wood. He slowly slid down until he was seated on the floor. Taking a few deep, calming breaths he rested his head on his knees, falling into a restless sleep plagued with dreams of times better left forgotten.
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Nearra giggled as Icefire took her hands and, taking a low bow, kissed it gently.
“Good evening, my lady,” he said with a wink. “Might I be as bold as to say, you look rather dazzling this fine night?”
Nearra covered her mouth to hide another burst of giggles that threatened to break lose.
He pulled her into a tight embrace, “Please, Icefire,” Nearra managed out, before remembering the reason she’d arrived earlier than they had planned.
It was the right thing to do, she reminded herself.
“I really need to talk to you,” she regained her composure easily, a slight frown appearing upon her delicate features.
“Then I’ll listen,” there was a playful twinkle in the elf’s eyes as he said this, clearly not noticing the worried look the blond girl now carried.
Nearra’s eyes darted around the room as she looked for the right words. She’d rehearsed this for nights now, how the words could have failed her when she needed them was the utter irony.
“It’s―,” she paused, her eyes falling to the hem of her top, the girl only bearing a simple traveling garb. She let out a breath of air in something along the lines of a sigh, not realizing that she’d been holding her breath. “It’s about Davyn.”
Icefire scoffed at her with an annoyed smirk plastered upon his slender features. The smirk was dark, frightening in Nearra’s eyes. Icefire had changed progressively. It was this change in character that was scaring her.
“What’s the boy done this time?” the way he said ‘boy’ really showed how much he loathed the young ranger.
“Icefire,” Nearra started again, her voice wavering. “I’m sorry, but― but I can’t do this anymore,” she looked up at the elf.
Tears welled in her eyes, holding them back only proved to make them worse. She tried with all her might to keep them unnoticed.
The elf noticed though, and although there was a look of shock on his face he reached forward, caressing her check with his thumb. He pushed aside the tears that were slowly starting to fall. A sympathetic look slowly crept across his face as he spoke.
“Do what, Nearra?” he asked, his eyes desperately searching her own.
“This,” she said penitently but with great defiance as she raised a hand and took a gentle hold of his wrist, pulling his hand from her face slowly.
Her eyes never left his.
He opened his mouth before closing it again, a frown of confusion and hurt crossing his features.
“But… why?” he finally decided on, his usual smirk and regal posture were long forgotten.
“I can’t do this,” Nearra repeated with a slow shake of her head as she took a small step back. “I’m sorry, Icefire,” she quieted considerably close to the end.
He searched her eyes for a moment longer than gave a small sigh. Nearra didn’t really know what he was searching for, nor did she know if he’d found it. She doubted it.
“He doesn’t respect you, Nearra,” Icefire said slowly, a look of utter sorrow crossing his face.
It was soon to be covered by a look of hate, no question as to where this was directed.
“Davyn does, I’ve known him for so― for so long now. He’s just very protective of his friends,” Nearra gave a small, half-hearted smile. “I doubt I’m even his friend anymore, though.”
The smile was so weak that Icefire openly cringed.
“Then why?” Icefire asked in confusion and hurt, though there was understanding, that much Nearra could make out.
“I don’t know,” Nearra’s next smile was distant. “I just… It’s that I just… it’s all… I―,” she sighed and took a calming breath.
Icefire gave a brief smile, the smile was sad but there was understanding, quite a lot of understanding. It surprised Nearra, to say the least, but she gave a brief nod.
Regaining her composure she gave a sad smile in return as then looked back at the door, only for her eyes to travel once more to the captain of the ship they were sailing on.
She sniffed before apparently sobering, “What was it you wanted to tell us? The others should be here soon.”
Icefire shook his head, turning to his desk and sitting in his chair once more, nodding his head in the direction of the many scattered papers on the wood surface, he grinned.
“It’s not too important. We still have a few days until we dock. There’s enough time to plan our best route to the next wizard, but later,” he nodded his head, his bid of farewell.
“Thank you, Icefire,” Nearra said as a tear trailed down one of her cheeks.
She didn’t say anything more as she turned and made her way out the door.
She cringed in worry at the sound of Icefire hammering his fist into the desk as she closed the door behind herself.
Nearra knew it was for the best. She loved Davyn, as fond of the elf as she was. She’d always loved Davyn, as much as he’d changed; as much as she’d changed. It had been tearing her up inside that happenings of the past had been pulling them further and further apart. There was a chance that she’d left it too late. Still, she had to try; she’d never be able to live with herself if she didn’t at least try.
On that note, she made her way quickly to Davyn’s cabin, silently passing Jirah and Keene as they made their way to Icefire’s. She needed to get it over with and talk to Davyn. Icefire would tell her sister and small kender friend that the meeting had been postponed.
She had to speak with Davyn.
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He knew the moment he saw Elidor that he was dreaming, he hadn’t had dreams of his blood-brother’s death in quite some time.
In a simple flash of red light and an eruption of flames, the body of his best friend fell lifelessly to the floor, his eyes accusing. They were always accusing.
The form of Nearra cackling wickedly before the fallen elf always scared him more than he’d ever admitted to himself. Her eyes were their usual bright blue, not Asvoria’s dangerous and regal purple.
Icefire stood by her side, Jirah’s water bow in hand, pointed directly at Davyn.
Nearra, too, held her staff, it was at her side but the globe at the top flashed from recent use. She’d used it to kill Elidor.
No, this never happened. Asvoria killed Elidor; not Nearra. This isn’t real!
Taking a look around himself Davyn saw the fallen body of Keene a few feet away. The small kender looked to be alive, if only barely. Burns covered his skin and smoke rose from his small defenseless form.
Not far from the kender sat Jirah, tears streamed from her eyes as she cried out to her sister. Apologizing, begging… dying.
Nearra’s bright blue eyes shot towards the ranger, “Davyn,” her voice wasn’t cruel, as much as he’d expected it to be, it was questioning.
“Davyn?” again, compassionate, scared, it wasn’t Asvoria.
The voice was kind, trusting, longing, it was the old Nearra. The one he’d felt he’d lost long ago. The cruel woman before him wasn’t the one speaking, he realized. Frantically, he began to search for the voice of his friend.
Everything started to disappear, the large chamber they were in. Keene, Jirah, Icefire and then, last of all, Nearra.
With a sharp intake of air Davyn’s eyes snapped open in shock. The sound of a gentle, and somewhat uncertain, tap at his door could be heard.
“Davyn, are you in there?” It was Nearra, she sounded anxious, scared.
With a sigh Davyn brought his hand down his face in an attempt to wipe any sleep from his eye ducts as he stood up.
She was too polite to even try opening the door. Davyn grunted in reply as he pulled the door open, his muscles all the while objecting to the movement. With a low groan, the words Nearra had spoken whilst talking to Icefire drifted back to him.
“What?” He asked, he noticed the look of hurt on her face at his rough word.
He felt a pang of guilt but didn’t bother apologizing. Why should he?
“I wanted to talk with you about something,” Nearra stuttered nervously, looking up at him from the doorway.
Her arms were wrapped around herself as she tried to fight off the cold.
“Can’t it wait until morning?” Davyn asked, his voice was still a little less harsh, but not by much.
Can’t you tell Icefire? You don’t seem to mind talking to him about me behind my back. He didn’t relay his crude thoughts.
She shook her head in determination. “I’d rather not, it’s… important.”
He waited for her to continue, his arms crossed across his chest.
“I, well, It’s just that I wanted to say that I’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Her bright blue eyes shone, tears rimmed them, breaking Davyn’s heart.
His voice wavered and giving a low cough he spoke. The ranger’s voice was no longer gruff but he still did his best to hide any emotion from it, “For what?”
“I-I know I’ve been ignoring you a lot as of late―,” she sniffed self-consciously.
Davyn noticed the tears that rimmed her eyes and it took all of his strength not to reach out and comfort the girl.
Nearra continued to try and find some words to form into an understandable sentence, “―and I… well. It’s all been so confusing these past few months and I-.”
Davyn frowned, a small smile forming on his lips in spite of the emotions that were swimming within him. There was so much rage, hate and pity. All of which were pointed toward himself. Not the girl that stood before him.
She wasn’t making any sense to Davyn.
“I’m so sorry,” the tears fell then as she lent into the startled boy and buried her face into his leathers.
Her tears dampened his armour but he didn’t care. He didn’t know how to take Nearra’s sudden act. Uncomfortably, he wrapped his arm around her back and gave her a few friendly pats to calm her somewhat.
She was sobbing uncontrollably now.
“I’m so, so, sorry,” she repeated taking a deep breath she continued, “I-I think I―.”
He closed his eyes resting his chin atop her head gently.
“It’s all right,” he muttered unconsciously between the girl’s sobs.
“I-I love you,” she whispered suddenly, clutching at his leathers as if afraid he’d push her away.
He did.
He pulled her away from himself, each hand just below her shoulders. Her eyes met his instantly, fear clear in the bright blue orbs. Davyn could see, from the corner of his eyes, the girl’s delicate fingers clenched into tight fists. This was always a sure sign that she was uncomfortable.
It was all too much for Davyn to take in.
“I love you,” she repeated after a small sniff, her eyes suddenly determined, waiting.
He slowly let his tight grip drop from her arms, his eyes searching her own. He knew there’d been some sort of romance between them before Asvoria had taken over. In fact back then he did love her. He’d been so sure about everything, despite their immediate situation. Still, he’d been sure that she didn’t have any feelings left for him at all. He hadn’t even been sure she’d really considered him as a friend at some points along their journey. Everything had changed.
No, this can’t be real.
Hurt suddenly appeared in her eyes, mingling with the fear.
He didn’t care anymore, he didn’t care what had happened to Icefire, and he didn’t care whether Nearra would turn on him again. All that mattered was the now. Looking in to her eyes proved just that to him.
“You already know I love you, Nearra,” he whispered with a lopsided smile as he pulled her close to him for comfort.
She gave a chocked sob of what the ranger hoped was happiness as she moved slightly in his grip, trying to get as comfortable as possible.
“I’m so sorry,” she repeated, relief clear in her voice as she said this, before she reached up and planted a soft kiss on the content ranger’s lips.
“I missed you so much,” he said with a content sigh a moment later.
He held her close to him, way into the night. They stood content in each others grip, thoughts of all else forgotten for the time.
Eventually she retired to her own cabin much to Davyn’s disappointment, but it couldn’t stop a smile from forming on his lips.
Worrying thoughts started running through his head as he tried to get to sleep once more.
Rina. Rina had said Jirah and Icefire had betraying them. She’d said they were plotting against Nearra. If he told Nearra this it would break her heart, and he couldn’t give away Icefire without giving away Jirah too.
But he had Nearra once more. She was his Nearra. The disturbing thoughts of the mess that was his life were pushed from his thoughts for the time being.
She was his Nearra.
I don't own any of the charcters Mirrorstone/Dragonlance/Other randoms do.
I guess some would call this a bit of an alternate universe, but it's just me changing it to the way I like it. That's the whole point of fanfics, right?
Oh well, I'll stop my rambling, and please, please, please don't forget to review.
His Nearra
Davyn nodded in Tu’s direction in a silent thanks, everything about him was sullen. She had quickly retreated. The second-mate didn’t want to get caught in the middle of another of Icefire and Davyn’s own arguments, whether it be about the best way to get to the last cursed wizard, or one of their many other usuals. Their most repetitive, she’d taken note, had been of Nearra’s use of magic.
The young ranger raised his clenched fist, readying to pound on the door, to alert the elf and Nearra of his presence.
Not that Nearra would notice if I were standing right in front of her these days, he thought with bitter contempt.
Who the anger was directed at not even he knew for sure. Icefire was somewhere at the top of the list in Davyn’s eyes thought, that was for sure.
“Please, Icefire,” Nearra sounded as if she’d been just giggling, her voice slowly changing to that of a solemn tone. “I really need to talk to you,” her voice was grave, Davyn’s fist wavering inches from the door to Icefire’s cabin.
After a moment of thought and a small, barely noticeable sigh, his hand fell back to his side. He waited silently, in hopes of hearing what was being passed between the two.
“Then I’ll listen,” the elf replied, mirth clear in his voice.
There was a long pause and Davyn kept his breathing slow and steady so he could make out what was being passed between the two.
“It’s―,” the girl paused. She sounded worried, sorrowful almost. “It’s about Davyn,” she paused again.
Davyn closed his eyes and took a deep calming breath before turning and walking away, not wanting to hear any more of what was being passed between the two.
“What’s the boy done this time?” Icefire’s voice rang clear to the retreating young man’s ears.
A snarl was evident on Davyn’s face as he stormed to his cabin, the night breeze not seeming to affect the young ranger. His nose twitched slightly in agitation as he pulled open the door, slamming it shut behind him. The crew paid no mind to the angered ranger.
Such outbursts were expected of him. Everyone knew that it was best to leave him alone at such times. Everyone did. Maybe that was what was driving him under.
Once the door was closed the ranger fell hard against the splintering wood that was the door, his back making a loud thump noise as it connected with the wood. He slowly slid down until he was seated on the floor. Taking a few deep, calming breaths he rested his head on his knees, falling into a restless sleep plagued with dreams of times better left forgotten.
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Nearra giggled as Icefire took her hands and, taking a low bow, kissed it gently.
“Good evening, my lady,” he said with a wink. “Might I be as bold as to say, you look rather dazzling this fine night?”
Nearra covered her mouth to hide another burst of giggles that threatened to break lose.
He pulled her into a tight embrace, “Please, Icefire,” Nearra managed out, before remembering the reason she’d arrived earlier than they had planned.
It was the right thing to do, she reminded herself.
“I really need to talk to you,” she regained her composure easily, a slight frown appearing upon her delicate features.
“Then I’ll listen,” there was a playful twinkle in the elf’s eyes as he said this, clearly not noticing the worried look the blond girl now carried.
Nearra’s eyes darted around the room as she looked for the right words. She’d rehearsed this for nights now, how the words could have failed her when she needed them was the utter irony.
“It’s―,” she paused, her eyes falling to the hem of her top, the girl only bearing a simple traveling garb. She let out a breath of air in something along the lines of a sigh, not realizing that she’d been holding her breath. “It’s about Davyn.”
Icefire scoffed at her with an annoyed smirk plastered upon his slender features. The smirk was dark, frightening in Nearra’s eyes. Icefire had changed progressively. It was this change in character that was scaring her.
“What’s the boy done this time?” the way he said ‘boy’ really showed how much he loathed the young ranger.
“Icefire,” Nearra started again, her voice wavering. “I’m sorry, but― but I can’t do this anymore,” she looked up at the elf.
Tears welled in her eyes, holding them back only proved to make them worse. She tried with all her might to keep them unnoticed.
The elf noticed though, and although there was a look of shock on his face he reached forward, caressing her check with his thumb. He pushed aside the tears that were slowly starting to fall. A sympathetic look slowly crept across his face as he spoke.
“Do what, Nearra?” he asked, his eyes desperately searching her own.
“This,” she said penitently but with great defiance as she raised a hand and took a gentle hold of his wrist, pulling his hand from her face slowly.
Her eyes never left his.
He opened his mouth before closing it again, a frown of confusion and hurt crossing his features.
“But… why?” he finally decided on, his usual smirk and regal posture were long forgotten.
“I can’t do this,” Nearra repeated with a slow shake of her head as she took a small step back. “I’m sorry, Icefire,” she quieted considerably close to the end.
He searched her eyes for a moment longer than gave a small sigh. Nearra didn’t really know what he was searching for, nor did she know if he’d found it. She doubted it.
“He doesn’t respect you, Nearra,” Icefire said slowly, a look of utter sorrow crossing his face.
It was soon to be covered by a look of hate, no question as to where this was directed.
“Davyn does, I’ve known him for so― for so long now. He’s just very protective of his friends,” Nearra gave a small, half-hearted smile. “I doubt I’m even his friend anymore, though.”
The smile was so weak that Icefire openly cringed.
“Then why?” Icefire asked in confusion and hurt, though there was understanding, that much Nearra could make out.
“I don’t know,” Nearra’s next smile was distant. “I just… It’s that I just… it’s all… I―,” she sighed and took a calming breath.
Icefire gave a brief smile, the smile was sad but there was understanding, quite a lot of understanding. It surprised Nearra, to say the least, but she gave a brief nod.
Regaining her composure she gave a sad smile in return as then looked back at the door, only for her eyes to travel once more to the captain of the ship they were sailing on.
She sniffed before apparently sobering, “What was it you wanted to tell us? The others should be here soon.”
Icefire shook his head, turning to his desk and sitting in his chair once more, nodding his head in the direction of the many scattered papers on the wood surface, he grinned.
“It’s not too important. We still have a few days until we dock. There’s enough time to plan our best route to the next wizard, but later,” he nodded his head, his bid of farewell.
“Thank you, Icefire,” Nearra said as a tear trailed down one of her cheeks.
She didn’t say anything more as she turned and made her way out the door.
She cringed in worry at the sound of Icefire hammering his fist into the desk as she closed the door behind herself.
Nearra knew it was for the best. She loved Davyn, as fond of the elf as she was. She’d always loved Davyn, as much as he’d changed; as much as she’d changed. It had been tearing her up inside that happenings of the past had been pulling them further and further apart. There was a chance that she’d left it too late. Still, she had to try; she’d never be able to live with herself if she didn’t at least try.
On that note, she made her way quickly to Davyn’s cabin, silently passing Jirah and Keene as they made their way to Icefire’s. She needed to get it over with and talk to Davyn. Icefire would tell her sister and small kender friend that the meeting had been postponed.
She had to speak with Davyn.
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He knew the moment he saw Elidor that he was dreaming, he hadn’t had dreams of his blood-brother’s death in quite some time.
In a simple flash of red light and an eruption of flames, the body of his best friend fell lifelessly to the floor, his eyes accusing. They were always accusing.
The form of Nearra cackling wickedly before the fallen elf always scared him more than he’d ever admitted to himself. Her eyes were their usual bright blue, not Asvoria’s dangerous and regal purple.
Icefire stood by her side, Jirah’s water bow in hand, pointed directly at Davyn.
Nearra, too, held her staff, it was at her side but the globe at the top flashed from recent use. She’d used it to kill Elidor.
No, this never happened. Asvoria killed Elidor; not Nearra. This isn’t real!
Taking a look around himself Davyn saw the fallen body of Keene a few feet away. The small kender looked to be alive, if only barely. Burns covered his skin and smoke rose from his small defenseless form.
Not far from the kender sat Jirah, tears streamed from her eyes as she cried out to her sister. Apologizing, begging… dying.
Nearra’s bright blue eyes shot towards the ranger, “Davyn,” her voice wasn’t cruel, as much as he’d expected it to be, it was questioning.
“Davyn?” again, compassionate, scared, it wasn’t Asvoria.
The voice was kind, trusting, longing, it was the old Nearra. The one he’d felt he’d lost long ago. The cruel woman before him wasn’t the one speaking, he realized. Frantically, he began to search for the voice of his friend.
Everything started to disappear, the large chamber they were in. Keene, Jirah, Icefire and then, last of all, Nearra.
With a sharp intake of air Davyn’s eyes snapped open in shock. The sound of a gentle, and somewhat uncertain, tap at his door could be heard.
“Davyn, are you in there?” It was Nearra, she sounded anxious, scared.
With a sigh Davyn brought his hand down his face in an attempt to wipe any sleep from his eye ducts as he stood up.
She was too polite to even try opening the door. Davyn grunted in reply as he pulled the door open, his muscles all the while objecting to the movement. With a low groan, the words Nearra had spoken whilst talking to Icefire drifted back to him.
“What?” He asked, he noticed the look of hurt on her face at his rough word.
He felt a pang of guilt but didn’t bother apologizing. Why should he?
“I wanted to talk with you about something,” Nearra stuttered nervously, looking up at him from the doorway.
Her arms were wrapped around herself as she tried to fight off the cold.
“Can’t it wait until morning?” Davyn asked, his voice was still a little less harsh, but not by much.
Can’t you tell Icefire? You don’t seem to mind talking to him about me behind my back. He didn’t relay his crude thoughts.
She shook her head in determination. “I’d rather not, it’s… important.”
He waited for her to continue, his arms crossed across his chest.
“I, well, It’s just that I wanted to say that I’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Her bright blue eyes shone, tears rimmed them, breaking Davyn’s heart.
His voice wavered and giving a low cough he spoke. The ranger’s voice was no longer gruff but he still did his best to hide any emotion from it, “For what?”
“I-I know I’ve been ignoring you a lot as of late―,” she sniffed self-consciously.
Davyn noticed the tears that rimmed her eyes and it took all of his strength not to reach out and comfort the girl.
Nearra continued to try and find some words to form into an understandable sentence, “―and I… well. It’s all been so confusing these past few months and I-.”
Davyn frowned, a small smile forming on his lips in spite of the emotions that were swimming within him. There was so much rage, hate and pity. All of which were pointed toward himself. Not the girl that stood before him.
She wasn’t making any sense to Davyn.
“I’m so sorry,” the tears fell then as she lent into the startled boy and buried her face into his leathers.
Her tears dampened his armour but he didn’t care. He didn’t know how to take Nearra’s sudden act. Uncomfortably, he wrapped his arm around her back and gave her a few friendly pats to calm her somewhat.
She was sobbing uncontrollably now.
“I’m so, so, sorry,” she repeated taking a deep breath she continued, “I-I think I―.”
He closed his eyes resting his chin atop her head gently.
“It’s all right,” he muttered unconsciously between the girl’s sobs.
“I-I love you,” she whispered suddenly, clutching at his leathers as if afraid he’d push her away.
He did.
He pulled her away from himself, each hand just below her shoulders. Her eyes met his instantly, fear clear in the bright blue orbs. Davyn could see, from the corner of his eyes, the girl’s delicate fingers clenched into tight fists. This was always a sure sign that she was uncomfortable.
It was all too much for Davyn to take in.
“I love you,” she repeated after a small sniff, her eyes suddenly determined, waiting.
He slowly let his tight grip drop from her arms, his eyes searching her own. He knew there’d been some sort of romance between them before Asvoria had taken over. In fact back then he did love her. He’d been so sure about everything, despite their immediate situation. Still, he’d been sure that she didn’t have any feelings left for him at all. He hadn’t even been sure she’d really considered him as a friend at some points along their journey. Everything had changed.
No, this can’t be real.
Hurt suddenly appeared in her eyes, mingling with the fear.
He didn’t care anymore, he didn’t care what had happened to Icefire, and he didn’t care whether Nearra would turn on him again. All that mattered was the now. Looking in to her eyes proved just that to him.
“You already know I love you, Nearra,” he whispered with a lopsided smile as he pulled her close to him for comfort.
She gave a chocked sob of what the ranger hoped was happiness as she moved slightly in his grip, trying to get as comfortable as possible.
“I’m so sorry,” she repeated, relief clear in her voice as she said this, before she reached up and planted a soft kiss on the content ranger’s lips.
“I missed you so much,” he said with a content sigh a moment later.
He held her close to him, way into the night. They stood content in each others grip, thoughts of all else forgotten for the time.
Eventually she retired to her own cabin much to Davyn’s disappointment, but it couldn’t stop a smile from forming on his lips.
Worrying thoughts started running through his head as he tried to get to sleep once more.
Rina. Rina had said Jirah and Icefire had betraying them. She’d said they were plotting against Nearra. If he told Nearra this it would break her heart, and he couldn’t give away Icefire without giving away Jirah too.
But he had Nearra once more. She was his Nearra. The disturbing thoughts of the mess that was his life were pushed from his thoughts for the time being.
She was his Nearra.
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