In a Better World Than This, I Shall Desire More Love

By the time Galen and Althea had regained enough of their strength to start moving, they had decided to go back to the safety of the large hill with the oak. At least there they knew they were secure and could get a full night's sleep safely. That way tomorrow they could set out from a place of strength. Althea walked comfortably behind Galen as she had not been injured from the river at all, and this way he could set the pace, and she could follow.

When he caught her looking at him and realizing that she was still watching him for further signs of physical injury, he turned to her and said, "Really, I'm all right now. You did a very good job." To even show off a bit, he walked backwards as he talked, hoping to amuse her.

"Well," she started, "those bruises are no joke. I'm just … being considerate. I know if those were on my legs, I'd be limping a bit."

Galen started to walk forward again and faster not really realizing it. The last thing he needed was to be a further burden on the woman he had made up his mind to protect.

"I'm not saying you're weak or anything," Althea added as she had noticed his walk quicken. But he didn't slow down, he even sped up a bit more. "Wait!" Althea called out to him as she noticed him almost at a jog. She even had to jump herself into a trot to keep up. She wondered for a moment if she had wounded his pride, and that same fear returned to her stomach. She almost froze up feeling those same, distant feelings.

But then Galen turned his head around, stuck his tongue out, and blew a raspberry at her like a small child. Then he bolted.

Althea first was taken aback at this sudden, utterly confusing turn. But then she let out a hearty, melodic laugh and began to chase after him keeping with his same playful spirit. Galen heard the sound of her laugh behind him and smiled wide. The sound of her laugh was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He had heard the songs of the rarest birds in every wood, heard the singing of his mother, and the melody of harp and flute. But this…this was truly the sound that put them all to shame and could bend the will of the heavens.

Obviously, Galen was faster with his longer legs, and he had the benefit of the head start, so he purposefully slowed down slightly so she wouldn't get discouraged and give up. Besides, he thought, the faster they got to the hill, the sooner they would be safe and rest. Never mind that this was probably the most fun he'd had in longer than he could remember.

Both of them had completely forgotten her injured ankle in their sport, and suddenly Althea took one misstep on the uneven ground that sent her falling forward. Once she realized the fall was inevitable, she tucked into her body and tried to minimize the damage. She let out a small, helpless sound despite herself from the pain of once again hurting her ankle that shot white light up her leg and blinded her.

Galen quickly stopped. The sound of her distress took an instant grip around his heart and crushed it tightly. By the time he turned, she was already on the ground holding onto her ankle and rubbing desperately to keep the blood moving in and keep the swelling at bay. But it was too late; he could see the redness and swelling from where he was a few meters ahead of her. He ran to her; not in a playful run, but a desperate dash with urgency and purpose.

"Oh, God! Oh, no, Althea." He bent over to her when he reached her side and put his hand on her ankle too. It was hot. He wasn't a Healer, but he knew that wasn't great. "Can you move it? Oh, God! Althea, I am so sorry."

Althea let out a kind, reassuring laugh and pushed against his chest so light it was hardly a push. "This was not your fault. My mother should have named me Grace." Under other circumstances Galen would have laughed, but he was far too worried. Althea straightened her knee to extend her leg and ankle. She moved it slowly and stiffly in a circular motion. He could see the pain behind the mask she put on for him. "Yes, I can move it. Not broken."

He looked at her good-natured face that cared more for his feelings than her hurt ankle. And that face was so close to his now. He wanted so badly to extend his hand and stroke her cheek in affection. He realized the moment he heard her distress that he would innately jump into fire if she ever needed it without hesitation. His realization seemed absurd, but that didn't change the fact that the feeling was there, it was natural, and it was from the heart of him. He couldn't explain it, and it didn't make sense knowing her for a little over a day. But he had always trusted his instincts, and everything he read in her and felt from her was of the highest merit. Maybe it made more sense than he thought.

Still, better to not make such a brash move as to caress her face just yet, so Galen lowered his hands onto the ground to resist any urge. Althea was sorry that he removed his hand from her ankle as his touch was very pleasant and comforting to her just like the sound of his gifted voice. She tried not to let the disappointment show in her face. Why should she be disappointed? But then she realized that the fact remained that she was. She couldn't rationalize it, and it didn't make sense knowing him for a little over a day. But everything she read in him was good and pure. Maybe it made more sense than she thought.

Maybe the halves in them were always mean to meet.

Just as they had touched at their meeting – innocent heart meets innocent heart.

Fear no more the heat o' th' sun,

⁠Nor the furious winter's rages;

Thou thy worldly task hast done,

⁠Home art gone and ta'en thy wages:

Golden lads and girls all must,

As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

They felt the strange vibrations of the earth at the same time and knew that they would not be alone soon. Galen looked up trying to find the direction in which the Immortuos were coming and spotted them in the distance. "Well, time to go," Galen said to her.

He bent over and picked her up without thinking and held her in his arms. He realized immediately that this could easily make her uncomfortable, but as he looked down at her ready to apologize, she wrapped both of her arms around his neck and gave him a trusting nod. With her touch, he felt like he could do anything, even take on the world if he needed to.

"Hold on," he said as he began to run up toward the hill and soon start the path up the steep incline with Althea in his arms. The Immortuos has spotted them and began running towards them in their clumsy, determined way. But they were soon outdistanced and quickly forgot what they had pursued and resumed wandering without purpose.

When the hill got too steep, Galen slowed down slightly. Normally he would be using his arms to balance against the incline, but they were now unavailable to him. But he was determined to get her up the hill and safe. "I can walk a little. Really. Just let me lean on you a bit," Althea said assuredly.

"No." Galen was not about to consider it.

"Listen, it won't be good for either of us if we end up falling."

Galen looked at her apologetically. She was so radiant, and her voice so dulcet even now in pain. "It's my responsibility. I got you hurt; I'm carrying you."

Althea brought down one arm from behind his neck and placed it on his chest, signaling him to stop. "I think," she started calmly, "that you and I will do a lot better together if we don't blame ourselves for silly, innocent things." She then smiled at him in an attempt to release his guilt and lighten his heart.

Letting go of his guilt was hard, and the move to release her from his arms was harder. But she was right, she was logical, and he would do much more for their partnership if he trusted her judgment. He carefully lowered her to the ground and felt her bear her weight on her good foot and the rest leaning on him. "Ok, let's go," she said.

Step by step they steadily moved forward showing extraordinary teamwork. They made better progress than either of them would have thought, and they smiled at each other. In another time or another place, they might have even laughed. But the smile was enough. It was worth more than riches to them in that moment. And with each harmonious step, they felt themselves connecting more and more. His aura reached out and intertwined with hers, and together they were a powerful pair.

The final steep step of the hill was reached. Althea balanced on her good ankle while Galen jumped up and reached down to help pull her up, and they were both still smiling. When Galen's hand closed around Althea's, a light glowed between them faintly. It was incredibly pure light, not gold or silver or colorful, but pure white and innocent. It wasn't blinding and overwhelming, but soft and subtle. Behind the light of the sun, one would hardly notice it was there. But the heat within it swept down their arms like the wind in summer. They locked eyes in surprise and stood still for just a moment. Then Galen snapped back into what he had been doing and pulled her up the rest of the way.

He had never seen something like this before, but he had heard stories of love, Magic, and valor in the long ago time back when there were still faeries in the world of a light borne out of purity and devotion. And in his childhood imaginings, he had always dreamed of what something like that would look like. And even in his most spectacularly stunning daydreams, it was not early as breathtaking as the light he saw between them then.

But when Galen turned to look at her, he found only her back. She was busy working on her ankle, unwrapping it to tend to it more. She was slumped forward and exaggerated her motions to appear more engaged than she truly was. When he looked at her closer, he could tell she was trembling. The elation he had felt before crashed down almost as if his heart was being broken in half. Was she crying?

He moved to sit opposite her. He would give her assistance in wrapping, talk to her, do anything. Something in this silence seemed to wound him deeply. They just shared a moment out of a story book, and she was actively turning her back to it.

Finally, he reached out his hand to hers that were busy rubbing something out of a jar on her swelling. When he touched her hand, she flinched and almost whimpered. "Althea?"

"I'm sorry. I really am. Please…"

"If I did something wrong," he floundered, "I'm sorry. I take back whatever it was I did that was wrong."

Althea let out a breath that was a mixture of a cry and a laugh. He saw a single tear fall down her face and hit the ground beneath her. That single tear cut him like a dagger, and he thought he didn't know why. But then he realized that yes, he did know why. He cared for her. It may not be the legends and songs of love at first sight, not anything so incredibly naive and imaginary. But in his heart, he carried respect, admiration, and a sense of compassion towards her. Yes, he cared for her very much.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, and nothing that you did was wrong." She wiped trail left behind in her tear away. "How stupid. How like a damn child."

Galen still sat there not knowing what to do next or what to say next. So instead, he was just there, and he just listened when she again spoke.

"A long time ago, I saw that light before. I felt that warmth with another human being, a man I loved desperately. And that love would turn and destroy everything in me. And now here I am afraid of my own damn shadow. Even smells I come across make me think of him when I want nothing less. Oh God," she paused and more tears went effortlessly down her face without ceremony, without strain. "How can I keep on like this? How can anyone?"

Galen saw the parts of her that were broken now, the parts that she had hidden behind a wall of strength even last night when she faced the telling of it all to him. He saw the deep scars, the bleeding, and the loss. He saw the things taken that she would never regain, and the burdens she would probably never shed. He may have seen her today without clothes, but truly now she was naked before him. And her eyes begged for compassion, for forgiveness, or for any understanding. She was faced with her own destroyed shell, and wished that it held beauty in it again. He knew then that she may not necessarily need a lover, but she needed someone who loved her.

Galen didn't reach out for her, he didn't pressure her to acknowledge his affection or share in its displays; he simply looked at her and spoke. His voice was calm, and she felt comfort in the melody of a Leporem. But this was not the gifts of the Leporem that he spoke from, but the sound of genuine, tender devotion. "You keep on by being you. Your strength is unlike anything I've ever seen. If I don't know anything else about you, I know your resilient strength. Even if you don't feel it, I see it."

Althea heard him, heard the words that he was saying and those he wasn't. He wasn't desperate, he wasn't intrusive, he wasn't insistent that his praises and admiration be returned. Maybe perhaps because he hadn't fully grasped the full understanding of these feelings yet, she thought. But she was starting to feel them too.

"And if it helps, you don't have to keep on alone. If you'll let me, I'll be here to help you."

And for the first time in a very long time, almost another life ago, she believed that.