"Would you please stand straight, my lady?" the seamstress' gentle voice brought her back from her wandering thoughts, quickly apologizing before standing perfectly straight once more, earning a warning glance from her aunt.
Instead, she focused her attention on the long mirror standing in front of her, trying her best to remain unmoving upon the small stool where she had been asked to stand. The dress was beautiful, probably the most exquisite dress he had ever worn. The light vaporous fabric was in the palest of blues, as soft as the morning sky. Somehow the fabric had been dyed to perfection, turning a dark shade of night blue as it met her feet, where the talented seamstress was currently measuring the hem. It was like nothing she had ever seen before. And yet, as if the exquisitely gorgeous fabric was not enough, the detailing of the embroidery in silver and sapphires were simply otherworldly. Delicate silver strings comprised the sleeves of the dress, intertwining around her thin bare arms all the way down to her wrists, and falling in loose waves down her back, where it intertwined with sapphires and pearls. Valar, she did not ever want to take this dress off.
"Oh, Faraine, you have certainly outdone yourself this time." She heard her aunt sigh from the small round table where she had been joining her husband in a game of tiles for the most part of the afternoon. "It is beautiful."
The fair seamstress simply nodded her head at the compliment, standing up straight once more, gentle morning blue eyes smiling almost shyly at her aunt's words. Yet, she knew there was hardly any compliment the seamstress had not heard, after all her dresses were the most wanted across the realm, as she personally sewed even the Princess' dresses.
"You can change now, my lady." Faraine spoke with a kind smile, nodding her head in her direction, indicating that her job was done, and, Eru, she was quick to hop off the stool. She loved the dress, but she hated the fittings. Still she did not went to change right away, standing a few more minutes in front of the mirror, admiring the stunning dress.
"Thank you so much, Faraine." Her aunt had stood up from the chair and made her way over to the seamstress, but the latter only waved her hand politely, always too poised and humbled to the compliments paid to her.
"The Lady will look beautiful for the Solstice Celebration." And instead Faraine would compliment her, even though it would be due to her work that she would indeed look beautiful. And still she almost wanted to roll her eyes at the mention of the Feast. It had been her intention to wear her favorite violet dress for the occasion but her aunt had insisted that it was time she got a new dress, especially since this would be her first Winter Solstice celebration back in Mirkwood in long years.
"Nana, could you help me change?" She asked in a low voice, her honey colored eyes meeting her aunt's storm grey ones, out of the corner of her eye noticing as Faraine calmly started to pack all of her supplies back into a small bag she had brought with her.
"Of course, little flower." She felt the gentle touch of delicate fingers on her back, and she joined her aunt in the slow walk back inside her own bedchambers. Still she could not help but smile at the warmth of the ever present term of endearment. It seemed as if no matter how old she got, her aunt would ever call her that.
"Do not take too long, meleth, it is your turn already." Her uncle's teasing voice echoed from his spot at the rounded table, one of his hands motioning to the many tiles that still lay perfectly arranged over the smooth surface, his soft blue eyes smiling at them as if already predicting that they would take longer than anticipated. They always did.
She heard the door of the bedchamber clicked close in a deaf sound, but she did not turn, letting her eyes absently scan over her room for long moments as she felt her aunt's careful hands slowly unfastening the many tiny pearl buttons down the back of her dress, careful not to pull at the intricate patterns of the silver strings.
The golden shades of the afternoon sun washed peacefully over the chamber, reflecting in sparkles over the polished marble tiles of the floor. Their chambers were not too high up in the Palace, and the upper branches of a couple of trees reached inside her balcony, shading it with their ever green leaves.
"You look beautiful, Indi." Her aunt's soft voice murmured from behind her, and she turned her head in time to meet that loving motherly smile that met her eyes. She smiled in return, looking at her aunt's perfectly delicate features, her pale flawless skin and her long silken ebony hair. They shared none of their features. Her mother had been her uncle's only sister, and thus it was only her uncle she resembled somewhat, if only in the same shade of ashen hair. And yet, ever beyond the difference in looks, her aunt was her Nana, had been for as long as she could remember, and she knew that to her aunt and uncle, she was their daughter.
"The dress is gorgeous." She admitted, managing a light laugh from her aunt for during the past two weeks she had done mothing but complain that another dress was not necessary when she had her favorite violet one that she intended to wear.
"I could not let my daughter walk into the King's Halls in an overly used dress for Winter Solstice." Her aunt was teasing her now, she could hear it in her voice as she helped her out of the dress and absently picked a pale rose casual dress from the wardrobe for her to change into. "Especially When I know there is a mysterious ellon sending mysterious bracelets. And judging by the splendor of those bracelets I can be certain he will most definitely be at the Winter Solstice, will he not? "
Valar she was sure she had not been able to hide her sudden shocked expression, feeling her own eyes widen and her cheeks burning at her aunt's teasing words.
"Nana!" Was all she could even think of saying, letting out an incredulous nervous laugh. Oh, Iluvatar, if her aunt went about trying to figure out who this ellon was…..More so, if she found out….Nobody in the Palace knew of her and the Crown Prince's short meetings for the past weeks, in fact she was not even sure if he was courting her at all. Everything was so very confusing, and at the same time so nerve-wracking, making her stomach flutter in nerves and her heart soar at the mere sound of his voice. Yet, there had been nothing apart from her stirring spirit to indicate anything happening between the two….except that kiss….
"You have not taken those four bracelets off since the moment they arrived anonymously." Her aunt pointed out, another light laugh escaping her lips in a chorus of bells at her daughter's mortified expression. "Will you tell me the name of the ellon courting you?"
"I…." She started, suddenly at a loss of words, inexplicably feeling her stomach sinking once more. Was Arahaelon courting her? Not officially at least….and after that kiss….well she no longer knew what to expect or think anymore. "I am not even sure I am being courted at all."
"Ah, so he is difficult to read." Her aunt was quick correctly conclude once more, gracefully lowering herself to sit at the edge of the large bed, her delicate hands smoothing over the pale blue bedcovers playfully. She could feel her aunt's grey eyes looking at hers, gentle orbs seeming to swallow her in that soft storm of silver. Those eyes could read deep into every single one of her expression, down to her very soul, knew her beyond what anyone else did, like only a mother knows her child.
And still she almost wanted to laugh. Difficult to read was an understatement. And yet, the more time she spent with him the more she learned that although ever unpredictable, he was not entirely unreadable. It was as if he spoke through his silence, and she had learned to read small cues that she was sure most if not all of the other elves missed, like what it meant when he inclined his head one way versus the other, the way his posture almost imperceptibly tensed or relaxed depending on the situation, even the almost unnoticeable difference in his smile when it did reach his bright emerald eyes or when it was a well-practiced gesture, or how he would gracefully fold his hands over his lap when stressed.
"He is." Was all she said, not willing to give any details on anything. Still there was no use in denying her aunt that there was indeed an ellon that attracted her attention. Valar, he seemed to have more and more of her attention every day.
"Will you not tell me his name?" Her aunt continued to smile teasingly as she joined her at the edge of the bed, having to brush some books aside to make space.
"No. I am not even sure what he wants, nana." She said between chuckles, even though of her did not completely feel like laughing, still aching from what had occurred only two nights ago.
"Have I seen him before?" Her aunt seemed too curious about it, yet did not press for the name, but this question did make her laugh this time. If only they knew….
"Yes." She replied once more with a single word, watching as her aunt looked at her for a long moment through those gentle grey eyes before her gaze shifted to the many books lying messily over the bed, all conversation about the mysterious ellon seemingly forgotten.
"Indilene!" She partially scolded with a defeated shake of her head, although more than angry she seemed to be surrendering herself to a battle that she knew would forever be lost. "How many times do I need to tell you that your bed is not the place for your books?"
"They no longer fit in the bookshelf." She added, quickly picking up the books and moving them over to the small table placed to one corner of the room, where a bunch of music sheets were lying, marking where she had been scribbling just before the seamstress arrived.
And yet her aunt shook her head once more with a light chuckle. "I will have to ask you Ada to have another one made." She spoke quietly as she rose from the bed, picking the exquisite dress with her. "Come, Faraine and your father are waiting for us."
And with that she followed her aunt out of the bedchamber and back into the ample Sitting Room. Faraine was indeed still waiting for them patiently on one corner of the room, all her things now perfectly packed. She gracefully accepted the dress back from her aunt, and retired with another graceful bow of her, smiling that characteristic kind and beautiful smile. They would have to go pick up the finished dress in some days.
"I thought the two of you would never return." Her uncle's voice filled the room as they joined him at the round table placed to one side of the room, his deep blue eyes looking at them with a hidden exasperated smirk. "It has been your turn for a while, Celairil."
She absently watched as her aunt's attention went back to the sets of tiles neatly placed upside down over the table, taking her time to stare at them before picking two and turning them over, revealing the dreamily painted pictures of a forest in one and the Moon and stars in the other, eliciting a victorious laugh from her uncle.
"You had already turned that one." He pointed out as her aunt turned the two un-matching tiles back around with an innocent glare to her husband.
"Fine, you go, meleth." Her aunt muttered, not even looking as her husband picked two tiles of his own, her attention focused on pouring herself a cup of tea from the ceramic kettle placed in the center of the table.
"Ah, found it." Her uncle's tenor voice echoed once more, his smile widening as the two tiles he flipped contained the same heavenly painting of the Moon and stars, taking them both in his hands and placing them aside, leaving the set over the table two tiles short.
"You always win this game, Ada." She laughed, shaking her head lightly as she too poured herself a cup of tea, watching in mirth at her uncle's overly satisfied expression. Whoever looked upon him would guess him to be an elfling playing with a brand new toy. He was enjoying this game too much.
"He does not always win." Her aunt's grey eyes glared at her husband once more, taking a silent sip from the hot drink before placing it deafly back upon the table, not looking too please at the rate at which she was losing.
"I have never seen him loose." She added, letting her eyes fall once more over the many square tiles placed face down over the table. She was very familiar with the game, it was a common game present at feasts such as the Spring Feast or even at times in the Winter Solstice over some of the tables, where the elves would sit and talk over wine while enjoying the game.
"Oh, I have." Something in her aunt's voice mirrored the new mischievous sparkle in her stormy eyes as she once again turned to glance at her husband, the latter seeming to throw her a warning glare. "And spectacularly."
"You lost?" It was her turn to laugh again, finding it hard to believe her aunt's words. Never had she seen her uncle lose this game to anyone. Only when he had purposely let her win as an elfling. "Who defeated you? When?"
"Defeat?" Her aunt continued, smiling all the more teasingly at her husband. "Oh, no, my daughter, that was not defeat…..that was a slaughter."
"Do tell the story." She spoke through her smiling lips, bringing the steaming cup to her mouth and taking a long sip of her honeyed tea. "Who were you playing against?"
"A very smart elf." Her uncle's voice was drowned as her aunt added almost at the same time "an elfling of five years of age."
"An elfling?" Valar, this story was only getting better. How had she never heard of it before? Of five years of age? That did not seem possible. That was merely a little more than a toddler.
"Not any elfling." Her uncle continued calmly, a smile drawing on his handsome face as he seemed to be recalling the incident. "It was His Highness, the Crown Prince."
"When?" Was all she managed to say, suddenly wanting to hear the story even more than before, longing to hear anything that her uncle could tell her from when Arahaelon had been an elfling.
"Winter Solstice, many years ago." Her uncle started narrating, oblivious to the way her heart fluttered at the simple mention of the Crown Prince, and she listened, not missing a single word that was said. "Even before the Princess Lossenel was born. It was during those hours after dinner and before the exchange of gifts. There were very few elflings that time so I guess the young Prince was somewhat bored, standing next to Her Majesty the Queen gripping at her hand as she talked with a couple of Ladies. I do have to say that he looked adorable dressed up in little robes and a silver circlet that seemed to be bothering him, as he kept tugging at it. I had been sitting at that same table with you father and we had been immersed in the game for some long minutes by then. Yet the little Prince's curious eyes kept looking in our direction, still seeming too shy to leave his mother's side, almost partially hiding behind her. So after a while I asked His Highness if he would like to play, and you should have seen the way those innocent eyes lit up with excitement. Still it took some encouraging from the Queen for him to finally approach me, and I had to physically lift him onto a chair his little feel dangling from the edge." Her uncle continued the tale, seeming to enjoy recalling it. And she wished he could see the picture of a small Crown Prince, but every time she tired she could only see those piercing, impenetrable emerald eyes, always wise, seeming to see beyond what she could.
"It was very strange in truth. The little Prince seemed shy, even his little excited giggles were quiet and timid, but the whole time he looked at me straight in the eyes. He asked what the game was so I explained it to him. I said there were eighty square tiles laid over the table consisting of forty pictures each duplicated, so that each picture had a perfect twin. I told him to look at the pictures before turning all the tiles upside down. I was not sure if he was understanding the game so I kept explaining as simply and clearly as I could. I told him that we would take turns to flip the tiles two at a time, looking to find the pictures that matched. All this time he had remained perfectly quiet, and not sure if he was really understanding the game or not, I went ahead first and turned two tiles." She wished more that she could be seeing these images instead of listening to the tale, and still she could hear that quiet laugh, she already knew that sound, never loud, never too carefree, almost like a quiet wisp of summer air, and she wondered at how many elves had ever heard that gentle sound those few times his smiles reached his eyes.
"Since it was the first turn, the tiles did not match so I explained that to him and said that I would turn them back around and it would be his turn to pick, but he merely laughed that quiet round of giggles once more, looking at me with that mirthful childish expression as if I had been teasing him. And then he said 'No, do it right.' Not knowing what he was talking about I explained to him that the picture did not match so I had lost my turn, but he laughed that shy laughter once more, shaking his little head and insisted 'We just saw all the tiles. Do it right.' I still did not know what he meant by 'do it right' so I asked if he wanted me to go again, thinking that maybe he needed to further understand the game, after all he was merely a little more than a toddler. He nodded his head in fascination once more so I chose two more tiles to flip, but when the pictures once again did not match the Prince just giggled once more and kept insisting for me to 'do it right'."
"This time I suggested that he tried, and he looked at me for along moment before asking, 'I have to flip the pictures that match?' to which I answered that if he thought he knew which ones matched he should flip them. And then, I do not even remember what I thought at that moment, but I recall that he had to kneel on the chair to be able to reach the farthest tiles, and he started to flip them all one by one, from the top left corner in order all the way down. He was not trying to find matching pictures, he merely flipped them all. And then I was sure that he had not understood the game, so I explained to him that he should flip only two at a time, and that those two should try to match. And he looked at me more confused than before, saying 'But I know they all match'." She did laugh then, trying hard to imagine her ever composed uncle looking incredibly puzzled in the presence of an elfling, even if such elfling had indeed been his future King.
" I have to admit that I myself had never felt more confused but I dismissed it, as an elfling's mind is always confusing to try to understand. So instead, I flipped all tiles upside down again, and encouraged him to try again, to pick only two tiles and try to make them match. And once again he looked at me for a long silent moment before asking 'Any two that match?'. I confirmed that yes, any two that he thought would match, and saw his eyes stare at the collection of tiles for a long silent moment, looking at the back of the tiles one by one before he suddenly picked two, flipping them over. And I was somewhat surprised that the pictured did indeed match. His Highness, on the other hand, did not seem in the least surprised, as if had known the tiles he picked would match. Still I simply dismissed it as luck. After all there were eighty tiles over the table, eighty. There was no possible way he could have remembered where the tiles were, especially out of eighty. He asked what to do next, so I told him that since the tiles matched he should keep those and flip two more. And he did, and once again they matched. I told him to keep going, and every single pair he flipped matched, and not once did he seemed surprised. He did know where all the pictures were. He had only looked at them for short seconds before I flipped them but that had been enough. He cleared the board in single turn, and after he had flipped the last matching pair, his excited green eyes turned to look at me expectantly as asked 'Now what happens?'. And it was then that I realized that he had not even understood that the game had just ended. He believed it was merely starting, this task seeming too easy for him to be all the game was. And then I understood what he had meant when he insisted that I 'do it right' that 'I had just looked at them'. He had thought I had picked the wrong tiles purposefully, as he was too young to begin to understand that I could not see the tiles in my head the way he did, that I could not perfectly remember their placement."
It was her aunt's light laughter that pulled her mind back from the imagined images she had been trying to create as she followed the tale, her eyes turning to find her aunt smiling widely at her husband. And still, she did not find herself surprised at all at the tale, somehow knowing that he would have indeed known where every single tile was, once again seeing those impenetrable emerald eyes that seemed to miss nothing in his surroundings flashing inside her mind.
"What happened then?" She asked, too curious to let the late die so quickly, but her uncle merely shrugged in response, absently continuing the game as he answered her.
"It was time for the exchange of gifts. And I believe he received a beautiful toy bow that made him lose all interest in playing with anything but his new bow." Her uncle spoke as her aunt took her turn in turning two more tiles, once again revealing mismatched pictures.
"It is the fourth time you turn that same tile of the forest, Celairil." Her uncle complained quietly, placing a quick kiss on his wife's cheek, but the latter only glared at him once more, even though the living smile on her face was enough to contradict her action.
"Because, my dear, if it has escaped your notice, I am attempting to find the other forest." She heard her aunt explaining, but her attention had turned instead to the reddening rays of the setting sun as they filtered and roamed through the ceiling tall crystal windows framing the ample room.
And she stood up from the table, her heart beating in anticipation as that time of the day that she had found herself waiting for in increased anticipation every day finally arrived. She excused herself quietly, but her aunt and uncle only smiled at her with a short nod of their heads, as if they too had grown accustomed to her afternoon walks through the gardens. And it was all she could to walk calmly back to her chambers and grab a thick winter cloak, not even paying attention to the color, before she was already outside in long labyrinth of hallways.
And yet, this afternoon everything seemed so different, her heart beating forcefully inside her chest and at the same time sinking in nerves. No matter how much she tried to force it away of her thoughts, her mind could not stop thinking about that moment in the terraces only two nights ago, causing her hear to both soar and sink, to swell and contract. It had been one of those rare nights where his barriers had tumble down, it had once again been strange yet refreshing, listening to him laugh freely. For the first time since that night at the pond she had seen Arahaelon, and not the Crown Prince, she had seen those melted emerald eyes opening up like an endless forest, so deep she could have fallen and drown in them, unguarded, unsealed. And she could still feel his warm breath as is brushed her face, so close to her, his lips meeting hers.
But it had taken only one second, one slip from her part, feeling as her spirit was pulled to his one his lips met hers, feeling his spirit so close to hers, almost pulling too, and she had reached for him. And that had been all it took. She should have guessed his reaction, and part of her did, part of her knew he would pull away, and yet it sill ha hurt. But what hurt her most, what made her heart ache and constrict painfully inside her chest was not his reaction, was not the way his barriers had suddenly been back up, she had almost expected as much. No. It was what she had felt in that fragment of a second in which their spirits had brushed, right before he pushed her away.
It had been too short of a time, less than a second, less than a heartbeat, but it had been enough. The moment her spirit brushed against his, she had felt it, so strong that she had not even needed to fully reach his spirit to know it was there, a wound, even though she could not really know what it was. She did not need him to tell her why he had pulled away, the wound speaking louder than any words could, even if she was not sure whether or not he even knew she had felt it. And yet she had also felt something else in his spirit, almost overshadowed but not entirely by the wound, a power like no other she had ever felt before, almost forgotten, or being pushed back. She had known it would take time and it would be hard for him to finally open up t her and let her stirring spirit finally reach his But now….after she had felt that wound…she wondered if he would ever let her reach him at all. And it was that which hurt the most.
Btu why did she care so much? Why did her spirit continue to gravitate towards his every time she was in her presence? Why did she keep longing more and more and more for the afternoon to finally come, to meet him in the gardens or in the terraces even if for some short minutes?
Her feet slowly trailed over the ever green grass, not even noticing what was on her path as she continued to make her way from garden to garden. The wind was unusually strong, brushing her forcefully and pulling at her long cloak this way and that, making her have to grip it tightly around her as she walked, her hair slapping her cheeks.
She had not spoken to him after that night. Had only seen him at the wedding ceremony the previous night, but only from afar, and he had looked every inch the regal Crown Prince he was, dressed in long silver robes and wearing the formal silver circlet. And yet, only some minutes into the wedding celebration, almost right after the ceremony, she had spotted a royal guard making his way to the King, whispering something lowly. And the next she knew the King and Crown Prince were retiring, most probably for some sort of urgent matter. Prince Tadion and Princess Lossenel had stayed to enjoy the celebration, and many a Lady had been almost standing in line for a change to dance with the handsome Prince.
She felt her heart drop somewhat as she reached the garden she had bene looking for, the mirror surface of the still pond reflecting in bright red at the dying sun. He was not there. But this time she could not tell if it would be a matter of waiting. This time she was not even sure if he would come. Nonetheless she would wait, lowering herself to sit on her usual spot, the fine cushioned seat by the long chaise, separated from it by a small table. She wished she had brought something to do.
But if there was anything she had was patience. She had always had an almost endless amount of patience. Had never really minded waiting for long periods of time, while that same amount of waiting would seem to drive her aunt into madness. Her thoughts would simply fly freely, and she would lose herself into her own little world nobody else could reach. She would look at the water lilies, imagining what they would sound like if they had voices of their own, would they sing? Could they tell her stories of all the elves they had witnessed sitting like she was in this very same garden? And she would imagine melodies, making up one for them.
She did not know how long she waited. Two hours? Three? Perhaps even more. The sky had long ago turned deep shade of blue, the half-moon shining partially concealed behind heavy grey clouds. The heavy wind had not let up, but somehow she enjoyed the ice cold feeling of it on her face, watching as the hundreds of water lilies on the pond were pulled so hard she feared the wind would snatch them up and send them flying around. Perhaps it could send her flying to.
She was about to stand up, finally surrendering her waiting, when the barely audible sound of light footsteps made her head turn up. He came. She watching him in silence as he approached, not yet knowing how much distance he would require that night. He was wearing a thick dark blue winter cloak, the color contrasting beautifully with his pale skin and his still damp silvery hair. It had been left unbraided, seeming to still be drying, as if he just only stepped out of a bath. And she did not miss the small cut and purple bruise present on his forehead, seeming to be healing already. So he must have been outside the Palace then, probably leading a patrol.
He walked silently to her side, sitting as he always did in the long chaise, his face always that handsome perfectly serene expression, as if nothing could ever agitate him, could ever make him react in any way. He did not say anything as his eyes turned to catch hers, and she once again felt the overpowering weight of those wise and endless emerald eyes, and yet even though still unreadable, as if she would never really catch up to what he was really thinking to what he was really looking at, they were not entirely sealed. He looked so tall, so regal, so powerful.
And then, gracefully he pulled something out of his cloak, a beautifully carved wooden box, pulling off the lid and extending it in her direction, offering her one of those small smiles that only partially reached his eyes. She peaked inside the box, only to find an assortment of the most deliciously looking chocolate covered strawberries neatly placed inside.
"What is this?" She asked as she took one of the offered strawberries out, watching him do the same after her. She recognized where these strawberries were from, and it was a place some miles away, on higher ground into the forest, where they grew the best quality. And they were expensive too.
"It was a gift." Was all he offered as an explanation, not seeming too interested in that. Btu then again, him and the King must be used to receiving all sorts of gifts like these this close to the Winter Solstice. And still he had chosen to share them with her.
"How was the wedding celebration?" He seemed more talkative than she had expected that night, even though he remained sitting at a comfortable distance from her. And yet his eyes still remained impenetrable, partially guarded. He was not letting her in completely tonight. And she wondered if he would even mention what had happened two nights ago. And yet, even if he did not, she would enjoy his company, feeling that warmth spread through her spirit even if only at his presence. She would wait until he was comfortable enough discussing what he wanted to. She would let him lead the pace. He had come. He had blocked her spirit from reaching his, but he was not pushing her away entirely. It always like this, probing and trying, one step forward and two steps back.
"Magnificent" She replied with a smile, once again letting him see into her honey colored eyes and into her very soul, never having any trouble in letting all of her thoughts and emotions freely visible. "It was unfortunate that you had to retire. The dancing was delightful, My Lord."
She used a more formal address once more, although not precisely his title, not sure yet whether or not he would be entirely comfortable with her using his given name that moment, trying to read what kind of night this would. And yet that powerful emerald gaze turned to meet hers once more, always impossible to read, endless yet unreachable, feeling as he could easily access every single one of his thoughts.
"You keep calling me that." He pointed out, his voice that perfectly serene silent sound, as if he could command even nature with the sole power of his gentle voice. And still, for a second, she did not know how to react, unable to read through his eyes, always so unpredictable, yet she could not help the small smile that drew on her face.
"Would you rather I used your name?" She asked, feeling that gentle warmth spreading slowly through her chest waiting some moments for his answer.
He did not reply with words, only nodding his head once, but that was enough. And it was again the small actions, the ones any other elf would probably deem insignificant which seem to speak the loudest when it came to him. True, she had called him by his name many times before, he had already given her permission to do so. But she had always tried to constantly guess when to do so, learning that he had not been entirely comfortable with it. It had always been her initiative. He had never previously asked it of her.
"You danced?" He continued the conversation, as if not putting too much emphasis on his on his previous request, but once again it was a behavior she had almost anticipated.
"Yes" She let out a light laugh, taking another chocolate covered strawberry from the opened box that now lay in the small table separating them, one of his hands securing it as the wind threatened to send it flying.
"With Elhael?" He asked, his voice sound calmed and casual, yet his eyes emerald eyes seemed to be partially teasing her and partially…was it nervous? She did not let her emotions show on her face at his unexpected question. She could not even remember if the young warrior had been at the celebration or not, yet he seemed to have been aware of that…The young warrior had not even spoken to her since she had him down for a dance back in the Autumn Feast.
"He never asked." She admitted with a chuckle, but she once again could not read into his impenetrable eyes. Instead he turned to look at the pond for a long moment, the wind single loudly in the silence.
"Where you outside in the forest?" She asked, letting her voice remain casual as he once again turned to look in her direction, his eyes still in that perfect in between, impenetrable yet somewhat open, unreadable yet inviting, the few strands of his long pale hair that had already dried flying around in the wind.
"Orc raid." He explained, as if not really minding giving her details of where he had been. "There was a group too close to the borders. I left with a group of guards last night." So that was where he had gone.
"You must be tired." She spoke her thoughts before she could realize it. So he had been in battle, and judging by his still damp hair he must have barely just returned.
And once again his reaction she could not have guessed, one light chuckle leaving his lips, a small smile curving up and lighting his warm emerald eyes, that smile very few elves got to see.
"Yes." Was all he said, his faint smile never fading, still she had not really expected him to admit to being tired. Still the casual way with which he spoke was heart-warming. He was not pushing her way….he was letting her in. Slowly and carefully, and not her spirit, but he was letting her slowly know him.
"Perhaps you should go rest, Arahaelon." She used his name, finding out that she really like how it sounded, still lost in his unreadable welcoming forest green irises. It was already getting late, and he must have been exhausted. She would gladly cut their unplanned meeting short if it meant to allow him to peacefully rest. "I will be here tomorrow in any case."
"I am fine." He contradicted her, waving off her suggesting with a graceful move of his hand, choosing to instead pick another strawberry from the box, and she did not insist. "Besides Tadion has taken over my chambers at the moment."
"What is he doing there?" She could not conceal a round of giggles, having to remind herself that although Prince Tadion was a Prince to her, to Arahaelon he was merely a brother. They were so incredibly different.
"I do not want to find out." He closed his eyes as he spoke, as if truly not even wanted to think of what sort of mess his younger brother would be doing in his chambers. "I am however certain that at least one item will disappear or break."
She laughed again, trying to imagine what it would be like to have siblings. And still she did notice that his eyes seemed to be opening more and more as he spoke, as if a sort of worry that had plagued over him seemed to be slowly lifting.
And then, those welcoming emerald eyes turned to swallow her once more, as deep as the darkened pond, still so completely unreadable yet so inviting, so open, and she let herself fall, once again not knowing what to expect, but waiting for him to talk first.
"I am sorry." Was all he said, his voice flying softly over the raging wind, and she did not really know what she felt at the unexpected apology, reading the sudden honesty in those powerful eyes. "For walking away."
"I know." She found herself saying, feeling herself drowning in the power of those open yet impenetrable eyes, unable to look at anything but him, suddenly feeling as if even though she could not read his eyes, she understood them. And she did not know what she meant by those words. She knew he was sorry? Or that she knew why he had walked away? Or that she knew there was a wound he was keeping so concealed? And oddly enough it was as if he too could read that her words extended far beyond their immediate meaning, a long moment of comfortable silence stretching between the two.
"Not yet." He spoke quietly once more, and again she knew she could inexplicably understand in the depth of his eyes what his words would not say. She could feel in in his eyes, in the way in which her worried heart suddenly filled with gentle warmth once more, the way her spirit gravitated towards his but she never truly allowed it to push and try to reach him. Not yet. Two words, yet their meaning so vast. Not yet. It was not never. He would let her reach him, but at his own time. And she knew that whatever the cause for him to be so cautions about it, was that it was not easy for him, perhaps even painful.
She simply nodded her head, finding that words could say nothing more than their meeting eyes could not. But that seemed enough for him too. And instead, she was the one to move this time, not really knowing why or how, but suddenly standing up from her seat and walking to the long chaise where he sat, lowering herself down next to him, as if suddenly feeling that a distance had just seemed to vanish, no longer necessary, no longer truly wanted from his part.
And all she needed as confirmation was that true smile that silently appeared on his face, the one that reached his now welcoming and unsealed emerald eyes, the one that she now knew now seemed to be reserved for her.
He did not kiss her again, even though she longed to once again feel his lisp against hers, his warm breath over her skin. Instead, almost as unexpected and unpredictable as he ever was, she felt a set of slender fingers gently reaching for her hand, intertwining with hers, and she found that her hand fit perfectly there. He had always been so distant, physically distant, barely allowing any sort of touch, even carefully sitting away from her many times. Yet that simple gesture was all it took to make her heart swell once more, for again with him she somehow understood that his hand taking hers felt more intimate than the kiss ever could.
Here is chapter 6! Finally! Next update will hopefully be for Almarëa! Let me know what you think!
Also thank you so so so very much to Josie for letting me use Faraine in this chapter! If you want to read more of her (and another love story of Arahaelon) be sure to check out her own fanfic at wattpad its called the Tale of Annalee and it is beautifully written!
Thank you so so much to those of you who reviewed my latest chapter! I hope you enjoy reading this one! Amsim, SJ, Visitor, Teddy 2104, helenaxo, guest reviewer, and StarFilledSkies!
Again this chapter is dedicated to Martine9295, I hope you are having a wonderful and beautiful day!
Love,
Elena