It is nothing like anything she has ever experienced, nothing. Caranthir had tried to warn her, in a way, but she had not understood. Possibly he had not either, not in truth.
She has not words for it, nor capacity for understanding. Something within her expands, reaches, entwines, joins. It's a far, far more fundamental and irrevocable joining than the act they perform with their bodies. That is joyous; this is transcendent.
Haleth feels for a moment as though she will turn wholly into light, as though there is no division at all between them, all empty corners filled, all parts connected. Where there was one there are two and then two made back into one, indivisible.
She is very distantly aware that she does climax again, his release pulling hers with it. It's almost an afterthought.
Such intensity cannot be borne for long, and it is more relief than not when as quickly as it happened the blinding flash of--everything--is gone, and she collapses on top of Caranthir, gasping for breath. For a while all she can do is breathe, as she tries to resettle within herself, aware that something has happened, something has changed, everything has changed. She is different than she was. She cannot say how, but knows she is, can feel it as surely as she feels gravity pulling her to the earth. As intangible and inarguable a thing.
They lie together for a long time, his arms around her as she lays on his chest, breathing, recovering, recalibrating. It is a long time before she speaks. "I am no longer surprised," she says quietly, "that your kind love only once, in all their long lifetimes."
no subject
It is nothing like anything she has ever experienced, nothing. Caranthir had tried to warn her, in a way, but she had not understood. Possibly he had not either, not in truth.
She has not words for it, nor capacity for understanding. Something within her expands, reaches, entwines, joins. It's a far, far more fundamental and irrevocable joining than the act they perform with their bodies. That is joyous; this is transcendent.
Haleth feels for a moment as though she will turn wholly into light, as though there is no division at all between them, all empty corners filled, all parts connected. Where there was one there are two and then two made back into one, indivisible.
She is very distantly aware that she does climax again, his release pulling hers with it. It's almost an afterthought.
Such intensity cannot be borne for long, and it is more relief than not when as quickly as it happened the blinding flash of--everything--is gone, and she collapses on top of Caranthir, gasping for breath. For a while all she can do is breathe, as she tries to resettle within herself, aware that something has happened, something has changed, everything has changed. She is different than she was. She cannot say how, but knows she is, can feel it as surely as she feels gravity pulling her to the earth. As intangible and inarguable a thing.
They lie together for a long time, his arms around her as she lays on his chest, breathing, recovering, recalibrating. It is a long time before she speaks. "I am no longer surprised," she says quietly, "that your kind love only once, in all their long lifetimes."