jump to navigation

LJ Chat. Day four, post two November 21, 2011

Posted by Elizabeth Schechter in author chat, Princes of Air.
trackback

Originally posted 11/20/2011 at the Circlet Press livejournal

****

Not quite sure what’s happening, or why Princes isn’t up for sale yet. Once it goes up, I’m sure you all will hear me squeeing. 😉

Now, everyone remember Turlach from yesterday’s excerpt? He was not originally going to show up in the third part. He was supposed to die, and there was supposed to be another love interest for Petran, another male character in the second section… who ended up dying. Turlach, wily little fox that he is,survived to win the man.

But he has to work for it. For reasons that I am not going to go into right now because it would be a huge spoiler. Petran has been fighting the mate-bond he feels for Turlach. This scene is where he gives in. One small spoiler in here.

Oh, and as a note:  Petran’s song to Turlach is adapted from two songs found in the book The Love Songs of Connacht, collected and translated by Douglas Hyde, and published in 1904.

****


“I understand now. Except for where I don’t.” He looked at me quizzically. “Petran, we’re bonded already. Even if you decide to never seal the bond between us, it’s too late. We’re mated. I know it. You know it. How does denying it protect you at all? If something happens to me, the bond is still going to be severed.” My jaw dropped, and I realized just how right he was, and just how stupid I had been. Turlach laughed at the look on my face, then leaned over and kissed me gently before saying, “Petran-my-love, you’re an idiot.”

I stared at him in shock, and his lips twitched. A moment later, we were roaring with laughter, great whooping gales of mirth that cut off abruptly when Turlach kissed me, pushing me backwards onto the bed. He straddled me, catching my wrists in his hands and forcing them over my head, pinning me to the bed. I didn’t struggle, even though I could have overpowered Turlach easily. Instead I let him take control, losing myself in his touch and in the taste of his mouth, as sweet and as tart
as good cider. His tongue caressed mine and I moaned against his mouth.

“Turlach?” I heard Diarmuid’s voice and felt Turlach stiffen in surprise. He rolled off of me and sat up, letting me rise so that I could see my brother in the doorway, his eyes wide.

A Ri?” Turlach said slowly, his face crimson. He glanced sidelong at me and tried not to smile.

“I… ah…” Diarmuid started, then shook his head and grinned. “I came to tell you that we heard from Dun-Righ. Your father is fine. He sends his regards.”

Turlach let out a long breath and slumped slightly; I reached out and squeezed his shoulder. He smiled his thanks at me and then turned to Diarmuid. “Thank you, A Ri.”

“You’d best start calling me by my name, I think,” Diarmuid answered. He gestured at the two of us. “I’m glad to see that you two have… settled your differences,” he said, smiling. He left, and I leaned back on my elbows and laughed. Turlach lay down next to me, pressing up against my side and draping one arm over my midsection.

“I’m glad, too,” he said. “Shall we continue to settle our differences?”

“Not here,” I answered, rolling towards him and kissing him quickly. “My house.”

“Why there?” Turlach asked, getting up and helping me to my feet.

I slung my arm over his shoulders and steered his towards the door. “Because my bed is bigger,” I answered. “And because my harp is there.”

“Your harp?” Turlach stopped and looked up at me. “You’re going to play for me?”

“If you’d like that,” I said, tugging him along with me. “You get to decide if you want it first or after.”

“Oh, such decisions!” Turlach laughed as we walked. Inside my house, I let Turlach make himself comfortable while I took my cloak off and laid  it aside, then took my harp from its box. As I lifted the harp, the dried flower fell out onto the floor; Turlach stooped and picked it up and handed it back to me.

“Is that the rose I put in there?” he asked, sounding surprised. I smiled and nodded, sitting down with my harp in my lap. It had been a long time since I’d played, and it took me longer than I’d thought to tune it to my satisfaction. When I looked up, I was surprised to see Turlach stretched out on my bed, completely naked. He smiled and stretched like a cat, posing for me.

“What’s this, then?” I asked, leering at him.

“I thought it would save time,” he answered, visibly preening under my gaze.

“It’s distracting.”

“I could put my trews back on,” he offered.

“No. It’s also inspiring,” I ran my fingers over the harp-strings, just barely touching them with my nails, thinking about Turlach, about what I felt for him, what we could have together. The words rose up within me, struggling to be free. I smiled and started to play:

Oh, love of my love, do not hate me,
For love, I am aching for thee;
And my love for my love I’ll forsake not,
O love, till I fade like a tree.
Since I gave thee my love I am failing,
My love, wilt thou aid me to flee?
And my love, O my love, if thou take not–
No love for my dear love from me.
O dear love, take my love,
Love of my heart, thy love,
Love without fear or failing;
Love that knows not death,
Love that grows with breath,
Love that must shortly slay me;
Love that heeds not wealth,
Love that breeds in stealth,
Love that leaves me sorrowing daily;
Love from my heart is thine, and such a love is mine
Is found not twice–but found, is unfailing.

I finished, rested my hand over the harp-strings to dampen the sound, and looked up to see Turlach staring at me, slack-jawed. I blinked in surprise and set my harp aside. “Turlach?”

“That… that was beautiful,” he whispered. “All for me?”

I stood up and crossed to the bed, sitting down and pulling him to me, whispering into his ear, “All for you. Always for you. I’m sorry, a shiorghra.“

The endearment made him smile, “Forever? I like the sound of that.”

I nodded. “It will be forever. When you become my mate, you take on my immortality.”

His eyes widened, “Immortal. But…?”

“We can be killed, but we stop aging at some point. I think at about forty or so. Diarmuid hasn’t really changed much in the past few years,” I answered. “Now, is forever acceptable to you? You won’t get tired of being married to an old harper?”

Turlach sputtered amusingly for a moment, then stopped and pointed at me, “You… you’re teasing me!”

“Yes. Yes, I am,” I answered, grinning.

He laughed and started tugging on the lacing of my jerkin. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

Now, this is the last excerpt I’ll be posting from Princes, but there are still two more parts to The Ice Raven. There will be one more part tonight, and the conclusion tomorrow.

Advertisements

Comments»

No comments yet — be the first.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: