King and Lionheart

TRANSLATIONS

Quel esta, hiril vuin - rest well, my lady

Gift of Man - is death

Diola lle, mellon nîn - thank you, my friend

Lle creoso - you're welcome

Tenna' san' - until then

CASTING FOR THIS CHAPTER

Travis Fimmel as Arradir/West

REVIEW REPLIES

Raider-K chapter 13 . Nov 29

I replied to you via message! Hope you got it ^-^

The Enchanted Stream chapter 3 . Nov 25

Omigosh, well thank you so much! I'm super glad you're enjoying it that much

BluMoonLeo chapter 13 . Nov 21

The scene you're looking for is near the end of this chapter dear ;)

Guest chapter 13 . Nov 20

I'm super flattered :) And I'm really grateful that you enjoy Arielle, and don't see her as a mary sue. That's one of my fears when making characters.

CHAPTER XIII
Her Imperfect Reflection

Thranduil was in his library, drinking a sweet wine and mulling over that letter again, when Tauriel all but kicked open the door and began to talk a mile a minute. He immediately sat up and glided to her, his robes flourishing at the quick movements when he approached her.

"At ease, captain," his face was grim when he saw the disheveled and somewhat guilty look on her face, as if this was all her doing. Thranduil suddenly felt like he was staring into the face of his daughter who was about to confess that she had broken an old family vase. Though vases could be mended, and given that Tauriel was supposed to be raiding the nearest spider's nest the entire day, he knew that her sudden appearance was meant to bring him much dire news. His imagination ran wild at what could have happened, and he already was forming the sharp lecture on the tip of his tongue.

"Aran nîn, forgive me, it was my choice to invite her," her statement caught him off guard. He knitted his eyebrows until he remembered that Maeleth and her ward, Arielle, were going with the Captain and her squad of guards to the raid. Maeleth — he knew was formidable with a bow, and fair with a sword as any elf maiden, but despite Arielle's promise of her being experienced, he doubted that she would last long alone in the face of Mirkwood's spiders.

He found his heart beat quicken at the implication of what could happen to the dess, though he didn't entirely understand why. Sure, he grew somewhat fond of her, though he was still rather wary of her presence, her informality, and frankly she could be quite annoying.

With a clenched jaw, he questioned, "What happened to her? Did you get her killed? Tauriel, I trusted you with the well being of my guests — "

"She is alive, Aran Thranduil, forgive me again. I put her with Rhovanor in distraction—"

"You did what?! You put a child, inexperienced with the dangers of this wood in the most dangerous position? Have you lost all sense?" He felt his anger rise to the tip of his ears, and he loomed over her, causing Tauriel to shrink. Angering the king wasn't ideal with all kingdoms, but when the Elvenking of Mirkwood was angered, his cheek would quiver, and the shade that concealed his past would fade. It was a frightful sight, and luckily the Captain was spared this sight at this moment.

"It was irrational of me, I know… though she was true to her word. She is incredibly fast and nimble… she did well in her position, though I did not anticipate her to travel so far. We had killed the female, eggs were burnt, many of the males were killed, and the others fled to the next nest. When it was safe to burn the webs, Rhovanor could not find her, so I sent scouts to find her, hoping that I didn't find her body. Instead Legolas found the corpse of a spider — she had killed it by herself, a wound in the head that could not have been there, unless she jumped the monster herself," Thranduil had to admit to himself, that detail did surprise him. It was an act of either bravery or stupidity that so far none of his kin had dared tried.

"If she is alive, and if she did kill a spider herself, then what brings you in a hurry to me?"

She licked her lip, "She didn't come out completely unscathed. Legolas saved her from being killed, though not before another spider had spat his venom on her, and burnt the side of her face."

Thranduil's face turned back to cold stone, though despite knowledge of there being no casualties, the news didn't calm his anger towards his captain of guard and her foolish decision. Tauriel's hadn't anticipated for Rhovanor to be leaving Arielle's side, or anyone else's. She had already yelled at the hunter when he returned without Maeleth's ward. Maeleth, upon seeing the disappearance of Arielle, yelled at both Tauriel and Rhovanor, and Legolas promptly went to search for her, bringing in tow a few scouts.

Arielle had travelled a mile and a half, Legolas had told her when they brought her into the Halls. In such a short amount of time, Tauriel had thought travelling that far would be impossible without horse, but she supposed that the elleth wasn't lying at all when she said she was quick on her feet. The captain regretted what happened to her, but it was obvious that it was her best position. It was just bad luck. Even so, Tauriel took the blame for everything, even if it was out of anyone's hands.

When they reached the Healer's Wing, Nestassel, the head healer was already sitting at a cot and hovering over a body. There were only a couple of other injured guards, none among them was his son, or Lady Maeleth. There were others that suffered from the venomous burns, though they had only touched arms or legs. They were being patched up by the other healers, but it was Arielle who held Lady Nestassel's attention most of all, which made Thranduil's face turn grave.

"How is she?" Thranduil asked as he approached the cot. He had passed Maeleth and Legolas in a swift motion without giving them much regard, which Legolas found strange. The Mirkwood Prince found it odd at the urgency he held for the elleth, despite only knowing her for a little over a week.

"Alive. I gave her poppy milk, so she is sleeping, and it is best she stay that way until I am done with the wound." Nestassel didn't look up at her king, far too engrossed in her work to remove the sticky substance that had sunk into her flesh and threatened her bones.

"And the damage done?"

"Her eye is untouched, thank Estë, but her cheek, the stem of her ear, and the side of her head just above it have been inflicted. It burnt off her hair there, the flesh of her cheek, and there is bone showing. She will have a nasty scar once healed, even after the restoration spells," Lady Nestassel continued to clean out the gaping wound that Thranduil was now looking at. It was really bad, though he had seen worse, namely on himself. She at least obtained her sight, though he didn't know how she would take to having a disfigured face once the procedure was finished.

"When the flesh has healed, and the scarring has started, call for me," Thranduil told her, and the Healer nodded.

"As you wish, Aran nîn," Nestassel already knew what his plan was, though she still had a knit in her brow at the concerning question: why. Why waste such magic on an elleth he barely knew, or was inconsequential to him and the kingdom? Once Maeleth leaves, taking her ward with her, her memory would only be recalled if her name was brought up in conversation, which it likely never will.

It was five days since Arielle had been emitted in the Healing Wing, and she had already grown stir-crazy by the third day. Lady Nestassel refused to let her out of the Wing, and limited her company to only Lady Maeleth, Legolas, Tauriel, her new hand-maid, Fogwen, and the Elvenking himself. The latter hadn't visited at all, not to Arielle's knowledge. Her unacknowledged disappointment of the Elvenking's absence was replaced for a bitter resentment for her keeper, Lady Nestassel, who was like a vigilante Norwegian Forest Cat, guarding her viking's plunder.

The only thing she was thankful for when it came to the Healer, was her bluntness. She had given her a mirror when she woke up, and to Nestassel's confusion, Arielle exclaimed promptly after seeing her reflection: "I look like bloody Two-Face." The Healer decided not to ask, so she went on to explain that her bandages and salve will be changed twice a day, which will make sure to kill any infection caused by the acidic spit. Then before bed, a spell would be made upon her face to quicken the healing process, and make the scaring less than it would have been. Arielle supposed she thanked for elvish magic, otherwise she would really look like two-face.

That afternoon, Maeleth and Legolas kept her company at the Healing Wing and played cards with her at a table next to her cot. Nestassel hadn't visited her that morning, so her bandages had not yet been removed (another healer would have done it, but the Head Healer made sure no one but her touched Arielle's face).

Looking at her cards with one eye, she furrowed her brows at her hand. It was pathetic hand, like her situation, but she tried to make the best of it. "I suppose there is one positive thing to come out of my face," she mused out loud, earning the glances of her two friends.

"Add to your collection of scars?" Maeleth asked, which earned her a glare.

"No," Arielle rolled her eye, but then considered it. Well yeah. "Lord Tharnor will no longer find me attractive. Perhaps he will leave me alone."

The comment did earn a smile from them both, though Legolas' was more rueful, "I'm afraid not. He's been trying to see you since news reached his ears."

Maeleth scoffed, "I would have thought he would move on by now."

Arielle then recalled the blonde elleth in his bed that night she snuck in. She, herself, couldn't understand why he tried so hard when he obviously had someone to warm his bed already. Then again, Arielle recalled the conversation she had with Thranduil when he mentioned an elleth that he and Tharnor presumed, like a game, a challenge that they wanted to conquer. Was that what she was to Tharnor? Truth be told, she would have ended up sharing a bed with him (for her own reasons, of course), if he wasn't such a douche canoe. Still, there was the matter of finding that diamond shaped key to open his safe, and she had an inkling that it was on his person at all times. Which meant that she would have to see him again, and get close to him again.

Legolas concurred with Maeleth, "It is true… I have never seen Tharnor so ensnared with an elleth. Granted, he is very competitive, so the only explanation for his unwavering desire for Lady Arielle is that there is another ellon that is vying for her affections."

Maeleth's eyebrow quirked, and Arielle… well Arielle stared at her cards, Legolas' words almost lost on her until they fully registered. "What?"

At that moment, there was a fuss at the door between a Healer, and someone trying to get through the entrance.

"I am sorry, Lady Nestassel has limited access to the Healing Wing—"

"Lady Nestassel has allowed me entrance," came a masculine voice that Arielle was not familiar with, but from Legolas' sudden disgruntled expression, he did.

"I find that hard— m'lord!"

The sound of boots walking across the floor made Legolas practically fly out of his chair and meet the ellon nose-to-nose. The prince didn't look all-too-thrilled at the appearance of the strange looking elf. It was hard to forget this ellon, though Arielle hadn't caught his name. She remembered him on Tauriel's team, the one elf with the stubble and short hair.

"Arradir, you don't have permission to be here," Legolas stated, using himself as a barrier between the healing elleth, and Arradir, who had the most gorgeous blue eyes.

The ellon smirked at the Mirkwood prince, shifting a box he had been carrying from under his shoulder and into both hands. "I have a gift for Lady Arielle, as requested by his Majesty, Aran Thranduil," he lifted his eyebrows, looking over to the table where the two ellith sat, "Made by yours truly; a gift for showing exceptional bravery in defending the Woodland Realm."

"A gift?" Arielle leaned over to her side to look around Legolas, who was blocking her view. "Legolas, move aside, I got a present."

Arielle's reaction made Arradir's smirk widen, but made Legolas' nostrils flare. With a gritted jaw (that looked a lot like Thranduil), he stepped aside. Maeleth caught the eye of Arradir, and while her thoughts were on something specific a moment ago, she couldn't help but notice the slight wink he gave her, which made her heart flutter a bit and completely forget herself. Shortly after that, she caught Legolas' disapproving look, and immediately deduced who the Prince's least favourite person was.

"Lady Arielle, it is with great honour," Arradir began as he placed the box on the table in front of her, "to present to you a gift from Aran Thranduil Oropherion, for your show of bravery in defending his realm and his people." It was a bit showy, Arielle thought. All she did was run and kill a spider, but judging by the fuss Tauriel and everyone else was giving her, it was a bit more than that.

He lifted the box lid, and inside were two arm-length fighting knives in elfish make. They were much like Legolas' own fighting knives, though instead of a golden wooden handle, it was black petrified wood, with painted gold designs, and a gold design on the blade. Etched near the shoulder of both blades were the word "Rawien".

Arielle marvelled at them, knowing that these are the finest blades she had ever had the privilege to own. Her own were single-edged double short swords, made by man, but stolen by her. They were reliable, but their steal would worn down easily. An Elfish blade didn't need much maintenance, it was lighter, and would last infinitely longer.

"Oh, wow," the elleth picked one up and marvelled it, her finger moving over the designs and over the inscription. She looked at Maeleth, and asked, "What does Rawien mean?"

Maeleth had a small smile when she answered, "It means daughter of the lion."

This is never going to end, Arielle thought, but those thoughts were pushed to the side when she examined the gift given to her. She looked up at Arradir, "I don't know if I deserve this. All I did was run."

"You did more than that, Arielle. You risked your life by jumping on a spider… I've never met someone bold and brave enough to go any closer than sword's length. What's more, you did it for a kingdom that you were not obligated to risk your life for… And therefore, King Thranduil is thankful for your sacrifice."

"Well, I wish he had come to me so I can thank him properly, instead through a third party," Arielle sheathed the knife in her hand and gently placed it back into the box.

"I'll be sure to tell him of your gratitude," he said before Legolas took a formidable stance in front of him again.

"My father will be visiting fairly soon… And now, this visit is over. Arradir, you may leave."

Arradir stood there for a moment, sharing a look with the prince before looking over to Arielle and nodding, "Quel esta, hiril vuin." He turned Maeleth, and his smile widened before bowing his head, "Lady Maeleth." The three watched him leave, an annoyed healer following after him, throwing a finger at his back as she gave him a lecture in Sindarin.

Once her voice was muffled out by the closed door behind her, Legolas returned to his seat, "Insufferable."

"He's quite the character," Arielle mused as she took the box and examined her gift once more. "Never met an elf like him."

Maeleth tilted her head to her, "I have. She is sitting in front of me."

Arielle rolled her eyes, and Legolas shook his head. "Give your ward some credit — she at least has manners. Arradir, after all these years, has not learn prosperity. He looks more man, than elf."

The thief rose an eyebrow, "Was he raised by men too?"

"Yes, but not for the same reason as you. His mother was a mortal woman, and his father a soldier of Rivendell. His story is romanticized by many, but the child conceived in such a tail does not live up to expectations," there was a bitterness in his tone, and Arielle wondered if Arradir was as bad as Legolas made him to be.

"What's this great romance?"

"Elves do not generally conceive children during times of war, though during the Angmar War, one exception was made when Arradir's father met a warrior maiden who he fought side-by-side. Conceiving children is a conscious act between elves, and the ellon soldier was far too young to know how the race of man are not the same. Their marriage was a secret, of course, but it didn't take long for her to show that she was with child, so she fled. Arradir's father didn't know of his son, not even when he died in battle two hundred years later. Arradir was raised by men, who called him West at the time, until Elrond located him and took him in as a ward for a millennium. West was named Arradir once he chose immortality over the Gift of Man."

"And what turned him into a cheeky imp?" Arielle's question at least made Legolas smile.

"Circumstance, I suppose. I cannot say, but he walks around the Halls as if he is the king himself, which I greatly disapprove. If it weren't for him being such a skilled warrior and blacksmith, my father would have him sent back to Imladris long ago."

Maeleth was being awfully quiet, and it really only took a shared look before Arielle caught on to what the older elleth was thinking. Legolas was oblivious to the shared look. After the fighting knives were gently placed on top of the cot, the game resumed for another twenty minutes before Legolas had to depart. Then shortly after Maeleth, after they shared a few hushed words together about Arradir and Operation: Make the Greenleaf Greener.

When Arielle was alone, she was examining the knives once again. They were truly beautiful, and so light and graceful that she couldn't wait to break them in…or preserve them, at least. They looked so delicate that despite knowing otherwise, that she was afraid they would break or scratch.

Lady Nestassel came into the healing room at last, and made a beeline towards her. Instinctively, Arielle sat next to the box on her cot and tilted her face to the side so the Healer could get to work. The first thing Nestassel did was gingerly peel back the gauze, and examined the cloth. She found no red residue, but only the slickness of the salve. The scarring healed her face nicely, without any problems. She was the Head Healer for a reason, which is why Thranduil made sure to only have her work on Arielle; to ensure no mistakes were made by an ill experienced healer.

"How's it looking?" Arielle asked, her eye blinking in the light once it was exposed.

"The scar has sealed all open wounds, and you're starting to get your normal colour. And, I think —" Her brow knitted at that moment as she peeled the entire thing off, her hand grazing her scalp where it was also scared. There was peach fuzz for hair that began to grow on better parts of her scalp, just around the scar where her hairline near her ear was. That wasn't much of a surprise, elf hair grew fast, so peach fuzz after a couple of days wasn't new. What puzzled Nestassel was something else. "Your hair is starting to grow back… Though, it is an entirely different colour."

"What?" Arielle reached up, but her hand was smacked out of way as Nestassel continued to fuss with her face. "What colour?"

"White, silver… it is very light, and therefore very faint. It is possible that the venom had bleached that spot of hair, though I've never seen anything like it." She continued to squint at it before standing up straight and left to get a towel to dab off the left over salve.

"Will it go back to brown?" Arielle reached over and felt the fuzz as well as the bump of her scars. She winced at both. If she was a dwarf, such a scar would be endearing, it would probably attract a lot of eligible bachelors. Though she worried that it would frighten away Tharnor, which is the exact opposite of what she needed at that moment. Also, there was another ellon she didn't want to chase away with her face either, but that was a subconscious worry. Arielle hadn't fully realized exactly who's opinion she worried over most.

"We will have to wait and see when it grows out, which will take about a fortnight. Not even Thranduil's concealing magic won't regrow your hair, so you will have to live with that for the time being," Nestassel returned with a wet towel and began to clean the scar from any grease and sweat.

Arielle shut that eye while she did it, but her knitted brow was mostly from the Healer's statement. "Thranduil's going to conceal my scar?"

"Yes. It is old magic that he had learned from his father, and his father before him. He, himself, used it —" She cleared her throat, stopping herself from giving information that wasn't hers to give. Though that piqued Arielle's interest all the same. "He will come later once you're cleaned up to conceal it, so you won't be walking around his Halls looking like… What was it that you said? Dual-face?"

"Two-face," Arielle corrected after she suppressed a huge grin on her face. She decided before Nestassel could ask, to make up a lie about it. "It's a local legend about a man who had burnt half his face," she left it at that, since it wasn't as important as the question she had on her mind. "Does the king do this often? Conceal people's scars?"

"No," Nestassel stated bluntly. "It surprised me too, when he offered."

The implications of his offering made Arielle swallow, her mind racing to try to find any explanation for the rare act of kindness that he didn't even do to his own people. "Any idea why he decided to do this for me, in particular."

The Healer tossed the soiled towels into a hamper and then leaned away from her. "That is the question, isn't it? Since you're asking me, I would guess it is because you remind him of someone."

There was a hesitation before Arielle asked, "Who?"

There was a beat before Nestassel decided to answer, "Himself."

Shortly after that conversation, Nestassel forced Arielle to strip and get into the tub, where she had Fogwen scrubbed her hair like never before. Apparently, the elleth had to be pristine before the precious King could lay his dainty clean hands on her face.

After she was dried, and her hair braided — Fogwen attempted to do a side braid that would cover the bald spot, and did a decent job — Arielle was put into a plain off-white chiffon dress with leggings underneath. After the king did his miracle work on her face, she was free to leave, at last. The first thing she intended to do was write in her journal, which she hadn't done for nearly a week.

After a few moments of sitting in the chair next to her bed, Thranduil at last entered the Healing Wing. He didn't turn to her just yet, but first met with Nestassel at the door, long enough for Arielle to enjoy the shape of his profile. He's face turned to her, and caught her staring, which was when Arielle realized she was openly gawking at the King, so she quickly looked away.

Thranduil didn't seem to mind nor notice, but he did swept over to her and then looked over his shoulder, "Leave us." Nestassel, Fogwen and the other healers left at his command. Arielle was their only patient after the rest of Tauriel's guards were already patched up and left a few days prior.

The Elvenking turned to look back at the elleth sitting before him for a moment. His face hard as he examined the damage on her face. The expression he held was stoney, hardly readable, as if he was hyper aware of controlling any indication he was reacting to her face. That thought made Arielle turn to look away, her face turning so he could only look upon her untouched side. She never had to worry about her appearance until that moment; under his scrutiny she felt utterly ugly.

Arielle jerked when she felt his hand on her chin, and force her to turn back around, this time tilting her head so the entire scar was displayed. This thumb ghosted over the beginning of the lesion, where it was unfeeling. "Stand up," he commanded, and with reluctance she did as she was told. For a moment she stood there awkwardly in front of him, caught between wanting to turn away, and wanting to look at him to see if his face would betray his emotions. Instead he guided her over to a mirror mounted on the wall, and stood her in front of it.

The elleth didn't want to look at herself, especially standing before a flawless being such as Thranduil. It was painful to look at that gnarled flesh of hers in contrast to his face, which was beautiful, smooth, and hard like the surface of white pearls. Though even when she tried to pry her eyes away from her face he would jerk her chin to look directly in the mirror, and then held it pointed foreword so she couldn't move.

"Do not waver your gaze. Look upon the scar, and visualize its disappearance," His body was just ghosting her back. She could feel his breath wafting down on the crown of her head, and she could feel his heat vibrating against her back, even through the fabric of both their garbs. It was very hard to concentrate with this close and intimate proximity, so Arielle took a deep sigh that swelled in her chest and locked eyes with herself in the mirror. Like an optical illusion, the disfigurement faded back to smooth and even skin. She didn't understand if that was the spell or not, so she remained where she was.

"Good, now don't move," her suspicions were correct, because Thranduil wasn't done. He released his hand from her chin, and slid his fingers over the scarred side until his large hand was covering half her face. His touch was firm but soft, though she scarcely felt him through the thick tissue of her disfigurement. It was enough to make her cry, since she longed to feel him, and she likely would never feel anything else on that side. Not the touch of wind, or the brush of lips.

Her worries were swept away when she felt the tingling sensation of elfish magic upon her skin. In a strange sensation, she slowly felt the warmth of his hand on her cheek, and in an involuntary moment she gave a soft sigh and a shudder. The touch of his breath on her hair felt even more prominent than before, as was his scent that filled her lungs. In an unconscious act of complete relaxation, she felt her body ease into the front of his.

Thranduil tensed when he felt her back gently lay on his chest when the elleth relaxed her muscles. Her scars were hidden, and the spell was finished, but he found himself unwilling to pull away. He was uncomfortable with his own informality. A memory flashed before him in his mind, and he quickly, as if he touched fire, retracted his hand and stepped away from Arielle.

"It's finished. The illusion will fall if you shall will it, or if you become… unhinged. Though it will always come back, and cannot be undone by anyone other than the castor, which is myself," the king threw his arms behind his back, standing stock-still, watching her face through the reflection of the mirror.

Arielle reached up to the warm spot on her now seemingly healed cheek. It was still warm from his hand, also smooth as if she never had a lesion there to begin with. She wanted to cry, but that wasn't something she normally did, especially around people. The last time she cried was when she realized she was alone, without Bellamy, in the middle of Mirkwood, and had no idea what to do with herself. Before that, she didn't really remember, but if she had to guess, it would be the day that Bellamy left the orphanage. Instead, she swallowed her tears down, dropped her hand and then slowly turned around so she was looking at him in person, rather than his reflection.

"Diola lle, mellon nîn," If this were anyone else, she would dare to give him a hug of gratitude. Though elves felt hugs too personal and intimate. There was very little physical touch among her kin, which for her, wasn't much of a problem. Though in times like these, it would be nice to hug someone. Instead, she placed her hand above her heart and bowed.

Thranduil reciprocated the gesture, "Lle creoso, mellon nîn."

There was a moment of silence between them as they simply stared at each other. Their previous discontent with the other person was long forgotten at that point. It had been dwindling since that day in the courtyard, but at that moment Arielle's socialist opinions against the king was forgiven and forgotten. They had a mutual respect for each other, and something else that they both swallowed down so it wouldn't be acknowledge. For Arielle, it was the begrudging fact that she was attracted to Thranduil, and for Thranduil, it was the unnerving feeling that he had seen those eyes before.

Finally Arielle torn her eyes away from him and to the box on her cot, "Oh, and…thank you for the knives. It was unnecessary, especially after —" she cleared her throat and smiled. "They're beautiful."

"I should be thanking you," he began, walking over to the cot and ghosting his hand over the blades. "You risked your life on a raid that you were not obligated to go on. You jumped a spider, four times your size, surprised it and killed it. I see now that you are formidable with proper weapons, and therefore I retract my judgements about your incompetence based solely on an unfortunate event that could be chalked up as… bad luck."

Also, because it never happened, Arielle smiled thankfully anyway. Still, she felt the gift was undeserving. She didn't kill the spider to defend his realm; she killed it because it was going to kill her. She didn't volunteer for the raid because she wanted to be an asset to the community, or any noble reason; she joined it because she was bored, and wanted to leave the Halls. And, frankly, she needed a mental schematic of the area if she needed to flee. If Arielle knew before what would result in her participating, she wouldn't have agreed to go anyway. But, she couldn't tell him the truth. Mostly because he would lose all respect for her, and because…well, she didn't want to return the fighting knives. Call her selfish, but she was a sucker for shiny and pretty.

Arielle gave him a small, slightly tight-lipped smile, "Thank you." The word was starting to sound weird, the amount of times it was said in the last four minutes.

Taking this as a moment for him to finally leave, Thranduil pulled away from the cot. "If you wish for company, I extend a dinner invitation to you. Tauriel, and the rest of her company from that day will be attending in celebration of the successful purge."

The elleth nodded, "I'd love to come."

"I am glad," he bowed his head. "Tenna' san'."

With a sweep of his robes, he was out of the Healing Wing, leaving Arielle to collapse onto the chair and have her hand explore her face. Everything felt completely surreal, as if she just woken up from a hyperrealistic dream. Her heart was still beating in her chest, and she could still feel his hands on her face.

Well... -waggles eyebrows-

Sorry if this took so long. I had to update and write for my other fic, and chapter seventeen is giving me some hard time. I finished halfway and decided you guys waited long enough for chapter thirteen. Hope it was worth the wait!

Is it getting fluffy in here, or is it just me?

Also~ pictures in pinterest as always!

Happy Readings xoxo

Qtj