“Well?” Penryn enquired, her voice small and perhaps a little strained.
“I am attempting to decide the best way to do this,” he admitted somewhat apologetically. He should have thought of it before approaching her, for now it seemed he was merely doing so to prolong their closeness.
But Penryn nodded, her brow furrowing before, ever so slowly, she reached up to twine her hands behind his neck. “Would that help?” she asked timidly, her face a great deal too close to his, despite their differences in height.
He needed his pulse to calm, needed to tamp down whatever urge was threatening to consume him.
So he leaned down and plucked her all the way up, enjoying far too much the way her arms constricted about him at the unexpected movement.
His wings extended, feeling for any touch of current that would dictate his way. Penryn’s eyes were wide as she saw them, and he felt a ridiculous surge of pride in the way she admired his form.
That was absurd in the extreme. She should want a strong Guardian, capable of flying long distances if it was required of him.
It did not mean...
He was thinking too much.
He kept walked away from their supplies, finding the tether satisfied as long as Penryn was with him.
And she certainly was, pressed against his chest, her arms tight about him. Should he warn her before he took off?
Perhaps not.
He was rewarded with a shriek when with a great thrust of his wings, they were airborne. It took a great deal more to get them to a proper height, the urge to go even higher prominent but manageable. He wanted to keep sight of their belongings while still enjoying what he thought would be denied him for the whole of the Journey.
Penryn’s arms were close to crushing him to her, and belatedly he realised that her face was buried in his neck. He suppressed the urge to chuckle. He did not want her frightened, and it was not precisely the reaction he was familiar with for a first flight.
But then, she was far older, and had no protection of her own, and that was a sobering thought.
“You are quite safe,” he assured her, his voice carrying easily with her ear so close. “I am not going to drop you.”
Even the mention of it had her arms constricting impossibly more, and he almost frowned. He did not want to return to the ground, not yet, but he would if she demanded it of him.
Stupidly, he had to suppress the urge to nuzzle into her hair and promise her she was all right.
This was a mistake. He was losing himself to the fantasy of what she was. That she was his friend, his companion, lovely and warm in his arms.
Not the nameless, faceless Lightkeep, stern and purposeful in every manner.
But up here...
It was easy to push that aside. To be Penryn and Grimult, to indulge what would have been forbidden on the ground.
He could feel her every breath, and he could feel her attempting to gather her courage as each became deeper, releasing more slowly as, finally, one eye opened.
Not to look at the surroundings about them, but at him. “Really?” she asked tentatively.
“Upon my life,” he answered gravely. And he meant it. He would rather any injury befall himself than for any harm to come to her.
“We do not need to go that far,” she muttered to herself, closing her one eye again and taking another steadying breath.
Before she forced herself to turn her head and look.
He did not fully control their speed, not when he had found a current to glide upon, the easier to carry them both without tiring so quickly. For the first time he regretted their position as it did not allow him to see much of her expression when she was turned so completely away from him.
“Does it please you?” he found himself enquiring, although he told himself it was so he would know if she required a hasty descent back to their makeshift camp.
She did not answer immediately, and there was an odd shudder through her that could only have been a barely contained sob. “Penryn?”
She shook her head adamantly. “I am all right,” she assured him, although nothing in her demeanour suggested that was true.
“I will take us down,” he promised, already looking at how best to do so smoothly.
“No!” she entreated, her face turning back so he could see her properly. “Not yet. Please. I... I have waited quite a long time for this.”
Had it been hard for her? To be surrounded by winged folk and wonder why she had been born so differently?
It seemed a safe enough assumption. She would not have understood her role fully as a child, of her purpose.
She would have simply been different. Marked in ways almost unfathomable to him.
Longing for a flight that could never be.
Until he had brashly offered what no other had dared.
Sages did not make mistakes. And they had picked him, with all his flaws.
But he had been different, as an initiate. Focused and grim-faced as he took his potential opportunity with the utmost seriousness.
He had never expected Penryn.
She contorted one of her arms to wipe at her eyes without sacrificing her grip on him. He was certain that he could have kept hold of her without her unrelenting grasp about his neck, but if she was more comfortable feeling so firmly attached, he was not going to complain.
Unless he could not breathe, of course. Then he would urge her to find a different tactic by which to secure herself to his person.
They were going in wide circles he found it increasingly difficult not to simply making along their path and find the next portion of wooded area before the sun grew higher. His wings provided adequate shade for himself, but
