A/N: Title from Set the Fire to the Third Bar, by 'Snow Patrol'. Fic inspired by Lally's Christmas fic to Kmiri Kalasin – thank you Lally!

Your Soft Skin Is Weeping.

The summer had passed and left him cold. The gloom chilled him to his bones; the flowers had all been plucked and now they lay in tatters around his feet. He could not move without disturbing them and the memories of tearing the pretty heads from their stable groundings.

It had come out at last, of course. Faleron was sensible, but he had been intoxicated and had pretended no-one would ever find out.

The Gods obviously had other plans.

For there was no way it could be kept secret any more. Everything had gone wrong. Now, sweet words – ghosts from the summer – mocked him. He had been a fool. Disillusionment had been the key he had played the summer in, and now consequences were echoing in their persistent, low octave.

He should have known better, his father had shouted. What had he been thinking to get involved with her? Her, of all people? What had he been thinking indeed? He could not even remember how it had all started.

Now, how it had started did not matter. The finale was here, and the consequences were strumming like cello strings.

He really should have seen it coming – but he had not let himself see past her naked form in his bed.

And now she was pregnant.

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(A/N: Another Kally/Faleron.)