Eleven – 09

[This post is from Seamus’s point of view.]

Seamus took a slow, deep breath, reveling in the scent of Leinth’s hair for a moment longer than he likely should have allowed, then squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds before starting to rummage around in the drawer for a clean shirt. Leinth stayed with him, arms still around him, holding him up.

“Who were you promised to?” he asked in a whisper as he pulled a clean shirt from the drawer, trying to straighten enough to tug it on. “Before, all those years ago? Who did your father promise you to?”

His shirt eclipsed his view of her for a second and when he looked again, she was staring with something close to horror in her eyes. His brows knit.

“Why are you asking me that?” Leinth asked in a weak voice.

“I—” Seamus stopped, swallowed, then started again. “Because whoever it was, I think I did something to him to make sure he couldn’t harm you or come for you. It was after I was with the Hunt.”

She stared at him for a few seconds, biting down hard on her lower lip. “Even in the midst of all of that, you tried to protect me.”

“What else would I do?” he asked, his voice a murmur. “I loved you then and I love you now. How could I not make sure that you were safe even though I was gone?”

Leinth took his face gently between her hands, kissing him tenderly. “Seamus.”

He sighed and shook his head. “I just can’t remember who it was. I remember facing him, I remember beating him, but I don’t remember who he was.”

“Orcus,” she whispered. “It was Orcus. My father matched us when I was still just a baby. I think he forgot about it, honestly, and I really didn’t know—but Orcus remembered, and then you happened and I—”

She buried her face against his shoulder, arms wrapping around his waist again. She didn’t cry, just clung to him, voice coming muffled. “He’s supposed to be long dead and gone. Isn’t he?”

Seamus didn’t answer.

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