The Beginnings of a Feeling

It was a riddle he'd set for himself, as shiny and bright as a new coin, and here he'd never meant to do any such thing. It was a pleasing thing this feeling, and he wished to know more of it, but he doubted it would come at his whim, unlike everything else in these lands of his, so he must set his mind to the understanding of it.

He had wished to attend to the feasting in his memory of Rinbaladelan, and hear his people play harps under the pavilion. Alshandra had wished to fly over the plains in one of her bird forms, shunning the cities completely, as was her want. Both had wanted Elessario to go with them. But powerful as they were, they could not cause the girl to be with both at once when they were in different places. So they had fought, each determined to force the other to back down and give in to the other's request.

But, then Elessario spoke up that she wanted to fly across the plains as well, rather than go to the city. Alshandra's smug look of triumph had strongly tempted him to continue fighting out of spite, but something stayed his voice. The beginnings of the riddle. On a whim to see where this was going, he had said that she might go. Her smile had greatly pleased him, which seemed strange as he had not got his own way. More than that, the memory of that smile her joy at the permission, gave him almost as much happiness as having her there at his side would have done.

A truly strange thing, but a pleasurable one, which he was pleased to put his mind to, enjoying his own cleverness at constructing such a splendid problem.