Disclaimer: see chapter one
A/N: this is probably the most 'romantic' chapter I have done so far… shame on me!
Chapter Seventeen^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
When one is thrown a glimmer of a clue, it sits among thought pebbles, reflecting off thoughts and sending hints to the heart. Trembling, Fiothiel walked briskly up the stairs, hearing Isorfir's sobs rattle around in her skull. With her head down she strode through the hallways, avoiding the eyes of all who passed. The time would come when she could muster the courage to walk with her head high again, and let color clash upon color…
The opportunity presented itself when she rounded a corner and ran flush into another, but she could not force herself to gaze upwards, and instead relied on her other senses.
The stranger placed one hand on her hip, and the other on her cheek. She trembled, and kept her head bowed and her eyes shut, eyelashes throwing arched shadows on her cheekbones.
"You need not fear to look upon me, Lady," he spoke, "last time I glanced in a mirror, I was no monster."
Gently, he slid a battle-roughened finger under her chin, and slowly lifted her gaze. Hesitantly, she opened her eyes.
"Legolas," she exhaled, "I have much to tell you."
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After words were exchanged and minds emptied, they sat alone in Legolas' library. Dusty books stretched high up to the ceiling in straight columns, while intricately carved deep mahogany chairs sat in front of the high arched window, which let in a glimpse of the fresh snow that snapped like gravel against the translucent glass. A fire burned thoughtfully in the corner, sending out ripples of heat to blur the bricks around it.
"Hazel eyes are uncommon, but there are still too many elves with that trait to pick one," Fiothiel mused, "we need more then just that to help."
He nodded, and leaned closer as her tone changed, and the guise of bravery slid from her stance.
"But I fear that the one we have been searching for all along is the one that I am too afraid to open my eyes and see… for fear of losing a trusted friend, whether sincere or feigned."
She attempted a weak smile, and inhaled a deep, shuddering breath. A pang of sympathy cracked his heart, and he stepped forwards to envelop her in his arms. He felt her pulse flutter against his neck, and held her tighter, his large palm caressing circles on her back.
Fiothiel could feel his warmth radiating through to her, and the tense muscles in her back relaxed as his soothing hands traced gentle patterns on her spine.
"Do not worry, Fiothiel, because my heart tells me that you are truly brave. These are trying times, and it must be difficult to accept that all the facts place the guilt upon Isorfir, and there is naught you can do but accept what you believe to be true. Cormelle naa Tanya tel' raa*, and I know you can face anything that comes about."
He felt her smile against his neck, and her constrained words brushed gently against his heated skin, "I know not what to say, for such passionate faith in the character of another I have not often heard," She lifted her head and spoke directly into his ear, her lips barely brushing the delicate shell, "and I appreciate this, and everything that you have done for me, Prince Legolas."
At the whisper of warm air against his sensitive ear, he drew in a sharp breath and stepped hesitantly back, keeping her eyes locked with his own. They stood frozen, two profiles like puzzle pieces waiting to be fit together.
He grasped her hand, and brought it slowly up to his lips, straying not outside the rules of formality though they were alone, in a warm sanctuary in the midst of ice.
Skin and skin met, and separated, leaving behind a cool sensation where heat once lingered.
"Goodnight, Fiothiel."
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