I like not only to be loved, but to be told that I am loved, but the realm of silence is large enough beyond the grave.
-George Elliot
"Do you like it?" He lifted the silver chain before her, resting the tranquil crafted leaf pendent that hung from it within the palm of his hand, face content as he offered the exquisite jewel, smiling.
Her adoring emerald eyes were valiant under the moonlight, with a basking afterglow breeze setting the peaceful rhythm to the swaying movements of the trees as they sat on a bench within the gardens of Ellesmera, darkened beyond recognition but set aglow eerily by the moon. Her eyes were set upon the green pendent hanging from the chain; the beautiful piece cast with sterling silver, decorated with rich green enamel.
Her eyes blazed with bewilderment, her face motionless as she glanced into his brown eyes. "For me?" her sweet voice betraying nothing, but read openly within her eyes.
His smile only deepened. "Well, yes…" There was laughter in his voice, the emotion clearly wreathed upon his face. He straightened up; clearing his throat slightly. "We were on our way back from Doru Araeba after we delivered our final contract to sign for the new order… We arrived at Osilon amongst our travels, and it was there I decided to roam for the matter of curiosity, as it were," he paused, his gaze comforting her, willing for her to listen. "My eyes stowed an elvan craftsmen on my walk. His stand was fairly discreet from other elves and his work caught my eye, and he was very kind." His eyes never left hers. "It was amongst the rarest jewels he crafted and treasured since the old order, so he says… I couldn't resist."
He shifted closer, the night air mellowing smoothly within garden glade. "Elvalëryn it is named, or in the common tongue: The Neverwinter."
He let the chain fall, the leaf pendant dangling in front of their faces. "I want you to wear it," he murmured, the small smile never growing old. "Not as a symbol of courtship, but as a symbol for the love I hold in my heart… for you." The leaf pendant shimmered under the moonlight, casting reflections upon her beautiful face. The answer was clear enough as she pulled her hair back, a smile of her own blossoming beautifully. He secured it around her neck, hands brushing her shoulders softly as she eyed down at the pendent nestled safely around her neck. He placed his hands lightly in her lap, entwining his fingers with hers.
"I know the traditions of the elves," he continued. "But humans also have traditions that we cannot ignore… even if we wanted to." His smile faded, but the beggarly adore on his face; it was captivating, even for her… and it was enough to stern her ears. "Immortal I may be, but obviously, my mortal instincts of the past cannot be ravished and forgotten like a mere memory… though both seem rather unforgettable." he paused. "But when we love someone… we present them with gifts as a token for the love we hold, not to court them…" His thumbs stroked the sides of her hands. "I give this to you as a token of my love."
She sighed, but not with annoyance, eyes glancing deeply into his, the look upon her face made his heart leap. "It is beautiful."
"Yes," he said gently. "It is a beautiful object." he paused, leaving one hand in hers as he lifted the other to stroke The Neverwinter resting on her chest, his heart besting his head. "So be the one bearing it now… and always."
Her smile was gorgeous, and his eyes had become less amused and more adorned within the moment. He leaned forward, hand softly pressing down on her chest as he brushed his lips faintly against hers. With his other hand rested in her lap, she tightened her fingers around it as she leaned into their soft kiss, pulling him closer until it seemed nothing could pull him away from their clouded enclosement.
The night air mellowed out all other thoughts from entering as they kept each other close, the light breeze picking up its leisurely soft pace. Tree's swayed in the soft confinement of the wind, the dappled leaves of Ellesmera ruffling like dancing apparitions cast by the rippling moonlight. Nothing seemed apparent; they only held each other close, sealing everything else out from entry.
The Neverwinter resting between them as its radiance shone deeply like the moon itself, confining them with an invisible devotion ambitious from passion.
The sheer moment of returning to full awareness from entering a state that was concealed into a waking dream had never been a radicle sense of relief as some had posed it. The moment the sun appeared though her open window and crossed the tree-line horizon, Arya deepened her breathing, willing her heart to quicken as she finally opened her eyes. There was nothing her eyes weren't familiar with as they confided in the patterns that littered the wood coated ceiling, spreading and manipulating like an unescapable maze as she gazed above, lying still and content under her thin woollen blankets.
She watched the sunrise, stowing away her perilous thoughts as she felt its warmth comb her body like gentle silk caresses, a swift wind brushed with a coated warm sensitivity fumbling into her room…
Her hands crinkled the blankets, knuckles suddenly turning white… Her trance was supposed to be a place where she beheld many wondrous visions that kept her mind from weariness. Only now they served her as a burden, giving her memories she no longer wanted to endure for the sheer inducement of her quarrelling heart, shattered one too many times necessarily when she no longer needed to feel it ravage her mercilessly, feeling it plague her heart then finally capturing her soul into a concealed prison.
It was many moments later when she rose from the comfort of her bed, leaning up to absorb the morning air and to lazily adjust her sight to the growing awareness of the penetrating light her room quickly absorbed. Somehow, she felt as if her head had started to split, a quaking crack forming in all fores of her mind, hammering at her savagely. She raised her hand to let it sit on her forehead, sighing deeply when she closed her eyes again to take a few steady breaths…
Arya's eyes snapped open.
Her heart stopped dead. She suddenly took in all her surroundings within and out of her room, opening her mind and feeling nothing of the one reverberating mind she searched for. Her eyes stowed upon nothing as she fixed her gaze on every looming detail her room offered, without success, her mind instantly assuming, and her eyes suddenly bellowed in worry like a horrendous thunder cloud. She gasped.
Predictable. Of course she knew her reaction was profound and unneeded, but that didn't stop her from stumbling quickly out of her bed and towards the screen door that sealed her unmasked personality from reality, face becoming a marble cascade of emotionless stone as soon as she stepped out of her personal confinements and through the notorious gardens of Tialdarí Hall.
Her eyes, the only true revelation of herself, scattered through the tangling willows and ferns and the natural beauty of the Hall like a fumbling hawk, unable to find what only she simply needed to see and hear to ease her growing stress and confound weariness. The fear wasn't helping either.
An elf was sitting quietly at the base of a small lily bed, a small leather bound book residing in his hands, a strewn of luteous ferns sprouted beautifully above him. Arya regarded him as a simple wanderer filling their eternal time with knowledge for their occupation, as she glided past him silently without looking back and continued her distinctly noticeable search… but halted suddenly. She turn't back considerably, her marble mask betraying nothing of her gracious artistic features and the worry consuming her like a cold blanket. The elf was already aware with her presence when she offered the traditional greeting performed among their kind.
"I beg your pardon," she said confidently, assuring she wasn't trembling her hurriedness like an open book. "Am I intruding?"
The elf looked up and smiled politely, noticing nothing and folding a page and closing his book gently as if it were a jewel to treasured. "Not at all, Princess Arya, and the honour is entirely mine. How may I serve thee?"
Arya softened slightly, glad that she hadn't been of a nuisance. "Then I thank you for your time." The elf bowed his head slowly. She continued. "If your do not mine me asking, how long have you been here?"
He smiled again, slightly discouraging to Arya, but she was still glad he wasn't disturbed by her intruding question. "Exactly an hour before the dawn," he stated softly, "and if you don't mine my questioning, but why curious, lady Arya?"
She ignored his question and kept to her last consult. "If so an hour before dawn, then have you seen or know of where Eragon might be?"
"The young Eragon? He and your mother The Queen passed not long a moment ago." There was still the questioning in his voice, and for once Arya was glad for her title as a Princess, thankful that her kin would not dare delve to deep and over their line of curiosity.
She nodded, satisfied and thankful, her sudden exhilaration of confound fear disappearing. At least she knew where he was. "I thank you, kind friend. May the stars watch over you."
"As you will, Princess Arya. May the stars watch over you."
May they indeed watch over her… if they hadn't already disintegrated and died…
She thanked the elf again before turning her back, striding gracefully away just as she had arrived in her same puppeteered loyal manor. When she knew that she was a greater distance from the elf, she deliberately scolded herself when she thought about her actions just now. Of course, she had only feared where he could have been, she always did. There was nothing to be ashamed of. Did the elf notice her unsteadiness?
No matter… she thought quietly to herself. Pointless as it were, she kept considering leaving to find her mother and Eragon to check if they were alright. It had become a habit long ago after her many unnatural tragedies that seemed to find her in every looming dark corner. She wasn't thankful for it; after all, she gained it through the most painful conflicts throughout her long life, and it was sincerely annoying to put up with. Always wondering…
I need to clear my thoughts. Indeed, she wasn't thinking straight. She never did anymore, not since the end of the War and since he…
There was a soft wind passing through the beauteous gardens of Tialdarí Hall, and she suddenly felt vulnerable and exposed against its kind mercy. She sighed, running her slim fingers through her hair gently, fingernails brushing softly against her scalp as the soft breeze plummeted against her skin like a warm blanket. She glanced behind her, the wind ruffling her hair in a frenzy cascade of beauty. She would never know exactly why she felt the need to look behind her… why she felt she wasn't alone when she had thought so…
Her eyes drifted to the beautiful sparse blades of grass bellow her bare feet; other then the grass, starring at nothing in particular but the ground itself, coming to the small, yet obvious conclusion… she was alone.
This is ridiculous…
She ignored the fact that her hair was flowing freely within the wind like a billowing façade of hurtling leaves, her hand nestled in the nook of her neck with a soft coldness swathered upon her palm. She started walking away; her feet seeming as if they were weighed down upon her and dragging her back, only she continued forward without any trouble. The wind didn't die down until she reached her room again and sealed her screen shut… and, slowly but unsurely, pressed her back softly to the door and slipped down to the wooden floor, her legs pulled up, with her arms wrapped around them and her chin resting on her knees…
… and that is where she stayed.
Authoress notes :P
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I'm pretty tied up with things in lala land at the moment, but be reasured I haven't soundly ditched you...I was happy with the reveiews I recieved for Angel On My Shoulder, considering I asked for 30 I ended up with over 60, and still going. All were poistive, except one... (I prefer not to deal with #...#'S!!
Questions are welcome. Things I gather might seem a bit confusing, if not, good for you, but if so then just wait and be patient. Thank you.
Thank you again, and please... that little purple rectangular box in the bottem left corner that says "submit reveiw" ... do not ignore it :)
Story is based on the Placebo song titled "Sleeping with Ghosts." :P oh, how ironically knowledgable.
Fare thee well, for now... XD