Disclaimer: Tolkien owns ME. I own the story.
A/N: Read, enjoy, and if you feel I deserve it, review! And hey, don´t worry- I can take a "bad" review. I don´t really mind- better to know I can't be ignored than to know you don't even care! I'm really sorry it took me so long to finish such a short chapter! I was out of town and when I got back and could finally get my hands on the computer, I had this REALLY bad author's block. I dunno, it was just a hard chapter for me to write. Maybe because my own so-called love life is this big, crappy mess as well. Well, anyways, thank heaven, I'm back on track, and though I'm still a bit slow, at least I've started to write again. And, the good news is, I've nearly got Chapter 7 ready- maybe even Chapter 8. Now, back to the story.
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*Chapter 6*
The journey back seemed longer, farther. Neither of them felt very well- Imrel had a fairly bad hangover after getting drunk on what he now realized was Dorwinion wine, and Erin was beginning to feel sick after being out in the cold for so long- and the cold sheets of rain were no help at all. In spite of the heavy foliage that was in the way of the rainwater, the two of them got completely soaked.
She felt strange with him after having kissed; guilty because she had enjoyed kissing him, deceived because Imrel, it transpired, had been so drunk at the moment he couldn't remember a thing, and most of all, hurt, because she had thought that he meant it.
He tried to engage her in conversation a few times, but soon gave up when he received practically monosyllabic answers from her, and they had walked in complete silence afterwards. By the time they arrived to the well- outlined path to the palace, she was feeling more uncomfortable than ever, and he was beginning to look angry.
He was, but not at her, as she thought. He was angry at himself, because he began to realize it was his presence that caused her discomfort, and assumed it was probably because of something that he had done while drunk. It made him feel like banging his head against a beech tree.
Their goodbye, said before retiring to their rooms, was short and simple. Cold, almost. They both timidly looked at each other once, but luck had it so that they took it by turns and only saw the other determinedly looking anywhere but at them. It was something that hurt them both to the depths of their souls, a cold, cruel knife against already wounded hearts, although they strived (and unfortunately succeeded) at not letting their feelings show.
***
Erin stripped off her wet clothes to take another long, hot bath before going to sleep. She felt very cold, a sure sign that if she wasn't careful she might get sick. It had taken everything she could do not to run and get into bed as she was; it looked that soft, comfortable and inviting after a night outdoors and uncovered.
She unbraided her hair carefully so she wouldn't get tangles and slipped into the warm water. Try as she might, she couldn't stop thinking about Imrel, reliving every tiny detail of what had happened: the way he had touched her face, her lips... the way he wrapped his arms about her, ever so gently, almost as if he were afraid to hurt her... the way his lips brushed hers, so agonizingly gentle... and the words he had whispered to her, words she could have sworn had meant "I love you"...
Tears began to run down her cheeks, mingling with the water, but she didn't realize it. Why did this have to happen? Now she didn't know what to think, and a million questions ran through her head... Had the wine unleashed his feelings for her or his lust? Had he really forgotten about it- or was he now as confused as she was, wondering how this would affect their friendship? Or even worse- what if he had decided she was very loose and now wanted...
She would have given herself to him last night without a thought, but now she shook her head determinedly. He would have to change his mind about that, and she would make sure of it. Her hurt feelings turned to cool anger and a dangerous, angelical smile appeared on her face as she devised her plan. Vengeance would be sweet- and it would be hers to enjoy...
***
Imrel felt cold and dizzy. He knew there was nothing he could do that would help him feel better but lie down and try to rest, and yet, he could only pace about the room restlessly, wringing his hands.
He desperately tried to remember what had happened that night, but, miserably, could recall nothing. He had to know what had happened, because he could not bear the thought of losing her friendship. She was his sole companion in his loneliness, the only one who cared to be with him anymore. Even Legolas had been distant with him, having come on official business- it was urgent, he had said.
He couldn't afford to lose her. Not now.
Without her- he was truly alone.
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A/N: If I keep it up like this, I think I might have to change the genre to drama- and hell, I love it! Thanks for reading- even if you're just lurking and don't review. I still love y'all. =3
A/N: Read, enjoy, and if you feel I deserve it, review! And hey, don´t worry- I can take a "bad" review. I don´t really mind- better to know I can't be ignored than to know you don't even care! I'm really sorry it took me so long to finish such a short chapter! I was out of town and when I got back and could finally get my hands on the computer, I had this REALLY bad author's block. I dunno, it was just a hard chapter for me to write. Maybe because my own so-called love life is this big, crappy mess as well. Well, anyways, thank heaven, I'm back on track, and though I'm still a bit slow, at least I've started to write again. And, the good news is, I've nearly got Chapter 7 ready- maybe even Chapter 8. Now, back to the story.
**************************************************************************
*Chapter 6*
The journey back seemed longer, farther. Neither of them felt very well- Imrel had a fairly bad hangover after getting drunk on what he now realized was Dorwinion wine, and Erin was beginning to feel sick after being out in the cold for so long- and the cold sheets of rain were no help at all. In spite of the heavy foliage that was in the way of the rainwater, the two of them got completely soaked.
She felt strange with him after having kissed; guilty because she had enjoyed kissing him, deceived because Imrel, it transpired, had been so drunk at the moment he couldn't remember a thing, and most of all, hurt, because she had thought that he meant it.
He tried to engage her in conversation a few times, but soon gave up when he received practically monosyllabic answers from her, and they had walked in complete silence afterwards. By the time they arrived to the well- outlined path to the palace, she was feeling more uncomfortable than ever, and he was beginning to look angry.
He was, but not at her, as she thought. He was angry at himself, because he began to realize it was his presence that caused her discomfort, and assumed it was probably because of something that he had done while drunk. It made him feel like banging his head against a beech tree.
Their goodbye, said before retiring to their rooms, was short and simple. Cold, almost. They both timidly looked at each other once, but luck had it so that they took it by turns and only saw the other determinedly looking anywhere but at them. It was something that hurt them both to the depths of their souls, a cold, cruel knife against already wounded hearts, although they strived (and unfortunately succeeded) at not letting their feelings show.
***
Erin stripped off her wet clothes to take another long, hot bath before going to sleep. She felt very cold, a sure sign that if she wasn't careful she might get sick. It had taken everything she could do not to run and get into bed as she was; it looked that soft, comfortable and inviting after a night outdoors and uncovered.
She unbraided her hair carefully so she wouldn't get tangles and slipped into the warm water. Try as she might, she couldn't stop thinking about Imrel, reliving every tiny detail of what had happened: the way he had touched her face, her lips... the way he wrapped his arms about her, ever so gently, almost as if he were afraid to hurt her... the way his lips brushed hers, so agonizingly gentle... and the words he had whispered to her, words she could have sworn had meant "I love you"...
Tears began to run down her cheeks, mingling with the water, but she didn't realize it. Why did this have to happen? Now she didn't know what to think, and a million questions ran through her head... Had the wine unleashed his feelings for her or his lust? Had he really forgotten about it- or was he now as confused as she was, wondering how this would affect their friendship? Or even worse- what if he had decided she was very loose and now wanted...
She would have given herself to him last night without a thought, but now she shook her head determinedly. He would have to change his mind about that, and she would make sure of it. Her hurt feelings turned to cool anger and a dangerous, angelical smile appeared on her face as she devised her plan. Vengeance would be sweet- and it would be hers to enjoy...
***
Imrel felt cold and dizzy. He knew there was nothing he could do that would help him feel better but lie down and try to rest, and yet, he could only pace about the room restlessly, wringing his hands.
He desperately tried to remember what had happened that night, but, miserably, could recall nothing. He had to know what had happened, because he could not bear the thought of losing her friendship. She was his sole companion in his loneliness, the only one who cared to be with him anymore. Even Legolas had been distant with him, having come on official business- it was urgent, he had said.
He couldn't afford to lose her. Not now.
Without her- he was truly alone.
**************************************************************************
A/N: If I keep it up like this, I think I might have to change the genre to drama- and hell, I love it! Thanks for reading- even if you're just lurking and don't review. I still love y'all. =3
