My Hero
Louise Kirkpatrick
I stand fighting side-by-side with my love. The twang of his bow, the whiz of his arrow, and I see one of our foes fall, momentum carrying him tumbling and rolling for several feet. The palms of my hands slide across each other and I feel flames ignite between them. A crimson inferno hurtles into the Dark Ones that bear down upon us. The warmth of satisfaction fills me as several of them fall and lay writhing, fire dancing and curling about them. A beautiful sight.
More flames billow, sent straight towards me. No, beside me. A snap of my fingers and my own jet of fire collides with the other. Rage wells up inside my chest and as I send more scarlet orbs twisting and writhing into the advancing horde, I scan the ranks for the other Elemental. The one who dares to attack my love and awaken my anger. My eyes lock with those of a tall male, he gives me a smile that lusts for blood as he rubs his hands together. Flames jet towards me and I stop them easily, he is toying with me, trying to incur my famed wrath, challenging me to step out to face him. I slap one palm across the other and then a gentle arm slides about my shoulders...
I blink, momentarily bewildered as my eyes refocus on my lap top computer where it sits balanced on my legs. A pair of arms covered by the sleeves of military fatigues are wrapped about my shoulders. The computer nearly crashes to the floor as I fairly fling myself up out of the large armchair in the living room. My love stands there behind the chair and on his face is that same big, boyish grin he used to give me when we first met back in college. Suspending my characters mid-battle without a second thought, I fly around the chair and into his arms.
I let him hold me close, savoring the feeling of his strong arms around me, listening to the comforting sound of his heart beating. After a few long moments I look up at him and brush my hands through his military-cut hair. Feelings and sensations are surfacing one after another. Shock, confusion, excitement, happiness. "I thought you weren't going to be back for another month." It's all I can manage to say. I feel stupid, I should welcome him home, tell him how much I've missed him, tell him— He pulls me close again and kisses me tenderly, cutting off my thoughts.
"I missed you too, love." He grins down at me as if he can read my mind. Sometimes it wouldn't surprise me to find that he could. Head fuzzy from the long kiss, I smile and get up on my toes to kiss him again, tightening my arms around his neck. In another couple of moments he holds me out at arms-length, looking me up and down, still smiling, then brings me in for another hug. "How is your book coming, little angel?"
"It's alright. A little slower than I'd like, but it's hard to work with the publisher breathing down my neck." We laugh and stare at each other, both so happy to be together again. I gaze up at his big brown eyes, eyes I have always been able to get lost in, and I can't stop smiling, nor would I want to. Then we both hear crying from upstairs. My eyes widen and my smile broadens even more. Taking him by the hand, I lead him to the little bedroom just down the hall from ours. A small crib stands in the corner of the room, and I stand at the door as he goes in and lifts a tiny form from it. Teary-eyed, I watch as he holds our child for the first time. There are tears in his own eyes as he looks over at me and smiles silently.
Laying in bed that night with his arms around me for the first time in what feels like ages, I prop myself up on one elbow to watch him sleep, like I used to sometimes so many years before. My fingers run slowly across his forehead and through his hair. I'd never admit it to him, but I miss his longer hair. A part of me doesn't want to close my eyes and sleep, as if I'm afraid that I will wake to find that his handsome face was just another dream. I lay back down and snuggle close, using his arm as a pillow, just like I always have.
As I lay there beside him, I think to myself that I wish I could be like Rayne. I wish I could be brave and stand and fight side-by-side with the man I love. But I am no warrior, and never could be. The characters that I write about are the closest I will ever come to battle. But him on the other hand, he will always be Asdroth Kain, he will always be the brave one. The fighting Bard, the Rogue/Ranger, the Tank, the soldier.
Then I think to myself, there is one thing that I can be, I can be the thought that helps him sleep at night, the face that he loves to wake up to. I can stand behind him and be the hands that support him, as well as the voice that encourages him. I am Navine, I am the Cleric, one almost useless in battle, but essential after. I am his Angel. Just as he is my love, my soldier, and my hero.
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Stories by Louise Kirkpatrick.