Consecuted: Continuing Tales from Wildemount

Lionheart

     It did not happen as often anymore, and when it did it was not nearly as bad as it had once been. Yeza was thankful for this. He was thankful for anything that indicated how time was passing for them both--the pain that never faded in his lower back, the way Luc had grown three sizes that summer, the wrinkles that appeared around Veth’s eyes. She claimed they weren’t there. “You’re lying,” she’d say, sundrunk and topless in the back garden , “I have a magical body--in more ways than one,” here she’d pause to wink at him, as if he didn’t know what she meant, “and anyway, I’m only like five years old. Technically speaking.” She waited for him to react to that.
     Yeza paused less these days. It used to be that when she said something dramatic, something unashamed and outrageous, that he would need to stop, get his bearings. She threw him off balance, spun him around until he didn’t know which way was up. But it had been years since he felt that vertigo.
     So the good shock was gone, but so was the bad one. She hadn’t had a fit in months. Last time it happened, he woke to find her entwined with the bars at the foot of the bed, eyes reflecting back a faint red light. Two red eyes, set into her shadowed face, then another eye blinked open on her forehead, another on the back of the hand that wrapped painfully tightly around the iron bar.
   thank you
   thank you
   thank you
   thank you
     She whispered the words into the still night, her voice joined with many others, with a knot of memory and sentience that lingered. He would hold very still and wait for the extraneous eyes to close. They did close, every time, and then Veth would start crying, and Yeza knew it was safe to scramble over the duvet and untwist her from the bedframe, gather her into the warm bed and whisper “It’s over, its all over love,” to her until her heart slowed and her breathing came easy. He never knew if she faked the sleep for his sake, or if he truly brought peace. Either way he felt her love in it.
     He had asked Essek and Yasha about it once, when the Nein were away in Emon for Winter’s Crest. Yasha knew nothing of it, though Essek could recall times when Caleb might stir in his sleep, murmuring similar words as Veth had. Yasha had wondered if Veth should see a healer, but Yeza begged them to forget he had mentioned it. Veth could not speak of these recent instances to him in the daylight, let alone the first couple times it happened, before he learned to stay clear. She would not like to hear he was discussing it behind her back, with her friends.
     He would spend long hours in his laboratory, watching her train Luc in the garden, looking for any possible reason for the lingering eyes. She carried none of the prior adventure with her--no wear, no tear. Only wrinkles, a sign of a healthy and happy and long life. Even getting used to her daily bombast felt like a kindness--how lucky he was to grow complacent around the love of his life. He studied her like he would study a scientific equation--break apart the component parts to understand why the reaction happens. What triggers the change? Are there observable patterns? Are there notable exceptions?
     It was all far more philosophical than he was used to, but Yeza had begun to break down some of the logic, chaotic though it be. Veth attracted lost causes. She was drawn to those who were different, who were alone. It was the truest sign of her compassion. It was what made her an incredible mother and a fierce companion in battle. It was what made her the best wife in the world. When someone who naturally nurtures lost souls is sent to a living city wracked with madness and loneliness and brokenness, the city sees a kind hand. A sympathetic ear. A willing host. Someone who deserves endless thanks.
     When dark thoughts around what might come consumed him, he remembered that the misfortune she was suffer was due to a reason why he loved her. She would never admit it, but she was the one who pulled the Nein together to begin with--she was prickly and an asshole and often kind of the worst, but she had a draw to her. Veth was a lionheart--burning to the core and radiating heat. She pulled those who were freezing closer.
     Of course the Somnovum continued to haunt her. She was a miracle.