Chapter 105: Sharing Grief
While arrangements had been made to ensure that they were comfortable, the room that Ashlynn and Nyrielle retired to after the banquet clearly spent much of the year as a storeroom in the back of the fortress.
Carved from the rock of the mountain itself, the room met all of Nyrielle’s requirements. There was only one door in, there were no windows that could let sunlight in, and a heavy bar could be thrown across the door from the inside to ensure she was undisturbed during daylight hours.
As a place to store a chest of clothing and her daybed for a few days’ visit, it was more than adequate on those points alone. As a place for Ashlynn to stay, however, their hosts had taken additional steps to make the room comfortable.
A large feather bed had been brought in with four posts hung with heavy curtains to keep warmth close to the bed in the chilly castle. Luxurious furs had been heaped atop the blankets to ensure that even on the coldest nights, she could sleep comfortably and two oil heaters burned in the corners of the room, though from the aroma, Ashlynn assumed that there was a fishy component to the oils being used.
"Nyrielle," Ashlynn said softly, capturing her lover’s hands after she closed the door. The vampire hadn’t objected when she sent Zedya and Heila away for the night without letting either of them prepare them for bed, but in truth, Ashlynn wasn’t sure she’d even noticed.
"It’s okay," she said softly, wrapping her arms around Nyrielle’s waist and pulling her close. "They don’t know how hard tonight was for you, but I know. You don’t have to hold it in anymore."
Nyrielle’s heart shook and her body trembled in Ashlynn’s embrace. For a moment, she couldn’t move, didn’t know how to move when Ashlynn wrapped her arms around her. How long had it been, since someone came to comfort her? More than a hundred years. Long enough to lock away the feeling of a mother’s embrace or a father’s calloused hand ruffling her hair. Long enough to bury even the furry, crushing hug of her grandsire Torbin.
"Come, sit with me," Ashlynn said, feeling her lover’s awkwardness. Gently, she pulled Nyrielle toward the bed and sat next to her, never letting go of the other woman’s hand. "You’ve been so very strong for me when my world fell apart," Ashlynn whispered, gently stroking Nyrielle’s back. "It’s my turn to be strong for you. For the rest of the night, you don’t need to be the Lady of the Vale anymore, you can just be my Nyrielle."
Sitting next to Ashlynn, Nyrielle’s heart beat faster and her breathing became shallow as a sob struggled to free itself from her chest. To Paulus, and perhaps to all of the Frost Walkers, Nyrielle’s progeny were nothing more than powerful warriors who gained the strength of a vampire on top of their own Eldritch gifts.