Galen:
---------
He was on fire.  Every dream, every fantasy, and every wish he had ever 
had did not come close to capturing what he felt like.  Rational thought 
had departed a long time ago, and he was obeying pure instinct alone.

She finally broke away, gasping for breath.  She dropped her gaze and 
leaned into his chest, head resting against him.    

"Gods..."  she whispered.  

If he could have trusted himself to string a coherent sentence together 
he would have added his sentiments, but he didn't think that was 
possible right now.  

He gazed down at the top of her head and thanked whatever gods existed 
that he had been brought to this land.  The fires inside him had 
subsided a little ... but only a little, and he felt such intense desire 
it almost overwhelmed him completely.  

But along with the passion there was something else.  Something that 
went beyond the fires that were coursing through him.  Something 
stronger and deeper. If his rational mind had been working he might have 
been able to identify this feeling, but as things were he simply 
cataloged it for future thought.  

Somewhere in the back of his mind, that cautious part of him struggled 
to be heard.  It cried that this was too much, too soon ... but the 
voice was weak and it was soon lost in the raging intensity of hormones.  

It felt like he was in a dream ... that didn't truly grasp the wonder he 
felt, but it was the only comparison that came close.           

"No..."

And reality came back with a vengeance.

He pulled back, not believing what he had just heard.  For an instant, 
the feelings were so strong that he almost ran from her.  But reason 
prevailed, if just barely, and he held down his fears, waiting for her 
to explain what she had said.

"Galen...  Oh, hells, I don't know how to say this...  But we
can't..."  She took a deep breath "...not right now.  We've got to go 
back soon.  I'm on call...  And they'll have Greta's funeral tonight. 
I...  I can't not be there.  I..."  Her voice trailed off.  

Reason fought with emotion, each weighing out what she had said and each 
coming back with a different answer.  He knew she was right, but that 
ugly little demon most people call fear whispered in his ear that there 
was more to it that simple logic.  

Part of him realized that his fears were totally ungrounded, and indeed 
completely ludicrous ... but he had been alone so long that the demon 
had created a nice little home in his mind.  

So he simply nodded, not knowing what he could say or do to resolve the 
inner battle he was waging.  

Maybe she saw it in his eyes, or maybe her own memory provided the 
needed knowledge of what emotions were rolling through him, but suddenly 
she was close to him again, her face inches away from his own.

"Don't believe for a second I don't want you."  He saw in her eyes the 
truth of her words and the little demon who had stayed with him so long 
was grievously wounded.  He wasn't dead, he had been around too long to 
be completely killed off, but his power was weakened severely.

Their lips met again ... and this time it was filled with promise.  

Minutes later they were in the air again.  There was still a little 
time, but Galen realized that it was best if they left now while reason 
was still in control.  

They chatted about this and that, but Galen wasn't paying very close 
attention ... and in all reality, Zera wasn't either.  When they landed 
again in Norwall, Galen couldn't recall a single word that had been 
said.  

They parted uncertainly, neither knowing exactly what to do.  Galen made 
a comment about seeing her tonight at the funeral, she agreed, and they 
went their separate ways.  Galen realized he should have done something 
more, but he really wasn't sure what it was.

He made his way to his room, stopping only to pick up his sword, and 
then it was on to the gym.  The day's events had opened the door to his 
hormones.  The fact that they had been unsatisfied had left him with a 
lot of extra energy and he needed to burn it off before the funeral.

He made a very conscious effort to concentrate solely on his practice. 
It was on of the hardest things he had ever done, but he knew if he kept 
thinking about it .... well, he was trying to calm the fires not stoke 
them.  

Training took over eventually, but even then the memories were in a 
corner of his mind ... and for the first time in his life, his mind was 
not completely on the sword in his hand.     

______________________________
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore!"
Ben Tate
Galen

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