Lycan's Affection

Eleanor watched as Jenna slowly went on her knees, her hand resting on Conaan's forehead. Her eyes closed, and she brought the other hand to rest right on his very faint heartbeat.

Eleanor felt her tears freeze in her eyes, her fingers clenching together. She closed her eyes, everything they had shared rolling off like a clip behind her eyes. His warmth, his smile, his smell, his eyes...

She sighed and opened her eyes just as a hand came over her shoulder. Slowly, she turned to Eric. He had a small smile, and he lifted his eyes to Conaan.

"I am sure he will be just fine."

She nodded, then brought her hand to rest on his hand, too. She let out a shaky breath, her eyes watching Conaan's still body.

For a while, nothing happened. Jenna prayed fervently, beads of sweat slowly filling her forehead, her eyes still closed. What had started as mumbles of prayers grew louder and louder. Jenna's hand on Conaan'a forehead started to tremble, and she moved further, her breaths fast and hard, her chest heaving.

Eleanor started to grow apprehensive. It seemed Jenna was draining, and Conaan was still, his body just like she had started.

Eleanor turned to Eric, who seemed concerned, too. A silent agreement passed, and Eric slowly covered the distance to Conaan. His eyes widened, and he took a step back.

"His..."

"What is it?"

Eric swallowed. "I... his body is.."

Eleanor stood up, covering the distance. Her eyes widened as she took in his frame. His skin had reddened, like he was being flushed with new blood. His hair had become a rather shiny black, and most importantly... the scar in his face seemed mostly diminished.

"It's working. It's..."

Suddenly, Jenna reached for the acupuncture needles she had prepared, all dipped in Matthew's blood. Her eyes opened, but her lips never stopped moving.

Bending over him, she put a needle in every acupuncture point he had, then went back on her knees again.

This time, her voice was even louder, and Eleanor and Eric stood, their hearts ceasing to beat in that point in time.

Eleanor watched as all of the scars diminished, and the injuries from war slowly cleared off. She held her breath, praying in her heart, her lips quivering.

Suddenly, Jenna gave a yelp and a force unseen by any of them, pushed her backwards and away from Conaan. She flew back, hitting the glass windows and breaking through.

"Jenna!" Eric yelled, then ran the short distance, catching her by her hand, while his legs dabbed on to the wall, to keep them both stable. Eleanor gasped, then ran to Conaan, who was still lying still, his body almost shiny, the needles still sticking out of him.

Jenna's eyes were wide with fear, and she met Eric's eyes, her chest heaving.

"I think it worked," she whispered, her lips parted. "But..."

Eric shook his head and started to pull her up when he suddenly noticed it. Her warm brown eyes slowly turned an icy blue, and her grip on him started to falter.

"Jenna?" He called, but she seemed to be losing consciousness, and one hand was simply not enough. "Jenna!"

Eleanor suddenly came by his side and grabbed her, and together, they pulled her forward and back into the room. She was now unconscious, and a single drop of blood fell from her nose.

Eric gave a sigh of relief, then looked up to Eleanor. "I... I will take care of her. Please go to His Highness."

Eleanor nodded, and with one last look at Jenna, she walked away to the bed.

Conaan's brows furrowed as he took in the sight. It seemed to be an endless dessert, stretching longer than his eyes could see. He looked up, and the sky was nonexistent, nothing but a white nothingness above him.

"Your Majesty."

Conaan turned to the voice, his brows furrowed. The last time he heard that voice...

Brandon was standing behind him, his hand clasped behind him, a single tear glistening in each eye.

"I thought I would never get to see you again, Your Majesty."

Conaan's eyes widened, his eyes taking in Brandon. He wore a simple white robe, his hair let loose. He had a smile that seemed to be fighting through tears, his eyes taking in Conaan, too.

"Brother?"

Brandon broke into a smile, one that only made the tears in his eyes roll down his cheeks. It was hard to tell if he was laughing or crying.

"I yearned to hear that. So much."

Conaan's lips parted as he felt all of the pain he had felt after Brandon's death surface once more, tightening on his chest, almost costing him his breath.

He took a step forward, but Brandon put his hand out, stopping Conaan.

"I wish I could run to you too. But you do not belong with us. You belong with the people who will live to see tomorrow. And even if holding you would remove all of this sadness, I would rather have you leave."

Conaan closed his eyes, his chest heaving. "I read your letter, Brandon."

Brandon smiled. "And I meant every word. I am here, dead and gone, and I am holding on to someone who still lives. It hurts."

His tears crashed down now, but he kept a smile throughout, his breath faltering.

"Cover the distance to me, at least. I beg of you."

Brandon looked down to the space between them, then slowly covered it till his feet were right in front of Conaan's. Conaan reached up to his eyes, and he saw just how broken Brandon was. He never got to know how much departing killed Brandon inside.

"You are still just as perfect, Your Highness."

"Call me brother. If you were ever only my servant, I would have been able to forget."

Brandon bit down on his quivering lips, tears rushing down his cheeks despite his attempts to hold it back.

"My brother. My love." Brandon smiled, then sniffed, shaking his head. "Nothing has ever seemed as far."

Conaan swallowed. "I won't ever forget you. That is a promise, Brandon. I will never be able to live your death down. I will never... never be able to..."

Brandon covered the distance, wrapping his arms around Conaan, his face burying in Conaan's shoulder.

"That is so good to hear. As long as you remember me. It won't hurt as much. I didn't realize that the one who leaves will hurt as much, too."

Conaan's lips quivered with the force of his tears. But Brandon wasn't even warm, and it drove the realization that Brandon would never be anymore.

Brandon slowly, reluctantly let Conaan go, and he smiled, his hand reaching to wipe off his tears. "You have to go now. I have to go back to missing you."

Conaan could hardly speak, the tears blurring his vision.

"Also, do not name your son after me."

Conaan's lips parted. "My son?"

Brandon smiled through his tears. "Name him, Coulter. I have always wanted your son to bear that name."

Conaan nodded slowly, his breath faltering.

Brandon pushed Conaan's hair, then smiled. "You need to go."

Conaan started to break down again. This goodbye was forever. The sight before him started to slowly fade, and he watched helplessly, Brandon breaking down in front of him.

He never knew how hard it was for Brandon. Now... now...

"Brandon," he said, his tears breaking the word. Brandon met his eyes one last time, then smiled.

"Go. Eleanor is waiting."

Conaan's brows furrowed, just as the sight before him darkened, Brandon's vision floating away like he was never there.

"Eleanor?"

He said, just before he felt the falling sensation, and he gasped, his lips parting, his eyes opening.