Wide aquamarine eyes stared at them for a moment, frozen depths swirling with a turmoil of emotions so hard to place, perplexed, shocked, yet holding the most overwhelming relief imaginable. And still, it was not that what made her freeze for a second as the silent night air danced hollowly around her. No. It was the fear, the blood curling fright that seemed to echo deep inside those icy green-blue orbs.
"Lossie!" She heard Arahaelon breathing out slightly to her right, an equal blanket of relief falling over his usually perfectly serene tone as he quickly moved from he had been standing protectively in front of her and towards the stunning Princess.
Lossenel reached their side in no time, her feet moving now faster through the few branches still separating them, letting her know that the Princess too knew these trees better than the ground itself. And then she nearly slammed into Arahaelon, the Crown Prince's strong arms immediately wrapping around the delicate thin figure of the snowy Princess. Not even a second after she saw the King dashing forward as well, her sister letting go of Arahaelon in order to bury herself in her father's waiting arms. She had not even noticed him getting to his feet, but it was as if a new unexplained strength had suddenly taken hold of the Elvenking, even if only momentarily.
"Ada." Her sister's whisper was muffled by the King's rich silvery blue robes, where her face remained buried on the elegant fabric. Her father's eyes were closed, his face betraying an expression of the greatest of reliefs, as if the most heavy of worries had been suddenly lifted form his shoulders. His arms still held tightly to his eldest daughter, not seeming to ever intend on letting go, his uninjured hand carefully running down the Princess soft platinum strands of silken hair.
"My Lord!" The sudden whispered voice made almost jump in surprise, her eyes flying to the source to find yet another figure approaching them through the branches, form the same direction the Princess had come. Long blond hair fell loosely around an equally astonished pale face, his long deep brown cloak almost disappearing in the sparse silvery moonlight.
"Galion." The Elvenking breathed out, perplexed ice blue eyes turning to gaze at the servant, the later reaching their side in an instant, feet as light as air over the slightly swaying branches. She caught sight of the servants eyes seeming to quickly asses his King from head to toe, widening slightly in concern as they fell on the blood covered hand underneath the already soaked bandage, and she knew that no matter the situation, the elf would always be the loyal butler.
"How…?" Arahaelon's vice trialed off as his impenetrable green eyes traveled from Galion to his sister, as not even knowing what question to formulate.
"I felt you around, I felt you and I knew you were no longer inside the Palace." Her sisters eyes travelled from Arahaelon to her father and then finally to her, her musical voice barely a whisper, as if she too was afraid of making any sort of sound. "And then, the forest led me here….I do not know how, bit simply did."
And yet, her sister's usually stunning eyes still held a sudden urgency, a fear that swirled in the depth of those liquid aquamarine irises that made her own heart start to race. What happened to her after she suddenly disappeared form the Palace? What had she seen? What had she heard?
"They are everywhere." Her sister spoke in hurried whisper, as if trying to get all of the words out in a single breath, eyes jumping from her to Arahaelon only to finally land back on her father's piercing blue ones. "They are everywhere….they were in the Palace…in the caves…they are everywhere around the forest….." Her voice trailed off, as if not even she could find exactly what she was trying to say.
Her heart drummed widely inside her chest, her hands suddenly feeling cold to her sides, and yet she remained unmoving. Who was everywhere? Who was they? Fear spread through her body like iced water, slowly traveling down her back as she remember the many black cloaked silhouettes that she had seen all around in the caves of the palace, following after them even through the clouds of fiery smoke. Could the Princess be talking about the same figures?
"I could not see anything….but then there was fire….and they just left me…they…they ran away…And I ran too…And then found Galion in the forest…and then…..Ada?" Lossenel suddenly pulled back, stopping her story almost midway, a new gleam of concern appearing in her large aquamarine eyes as they flew to the King's face. "Ada? You are shaking….."
"I am fine" And even though her father's voice sounded as steady, as regal and strong as ever, she did not believe him. The Elvenking's ever strong and royal figure shook with tremors, almost imperceptibly, as if trying to hide it but failing, her heart not seeming to find any relief even as she caught sight of the loyal butler moving to his King's side in an instant, hands curling around his strong arm in a effort to stabilize him before his legs could give out. It was as if the servant had immediately known something was amiss with his King the second he had seen him, and had vigilantly been standing close by in case his help was suddenly needed.
"You are not." She heard Arahaelon muttering softly to her right, although whether he was speaking more to the King or to himself she could not tell.
Instead she watched silently as the butler's steady hands carefully pushed his King to sit down on the wide branch, Lossenel quickly following behind, kneeling down close to her father. And once again a knot tied tightly in her throat as she saw the confused and disoriented gleam that momentarily crossed her father's previously focused ice blue eyes.
She saw Galion's hands gently reaching for his King's bandaged one, as if to check or tend to the still bleeding wound, but the second he touched him, her father pulled away quickly, snatching his hand away from the servants gentle ones. And yet, it seemed as if Galion had not been surprised at all by the sudden gesture, soft blue eyes staring calmly at the Kings suddenly consuming ones, as it silently asking for permission.
"May I see to it, my Lord?" The servant's voice remained as respectful as ever, as if no matter the situation he would always remain his King's loyal butler, patiently waiting for a reply. But the King did not move, and confusion only started to rise inside of her as she saw her father's piercing blue eyes suddenly looking guarded, staring intently into Galion's, not harshly, not distrustful, but as if something was suddenly making him reluctant to let the servant see the wound. And for a second it was as if solely through the look of the Kings eyes there was something being said, something that she could not understand, and yet the butler did.
He did not wait for a reply, as if already having perfectly read what he needed to know in the Elvenking's now wary and attentive ice blue eyes, gentle hands once again slowly reaching for his father's injured one, the latter no pulling away this time. Slowly, almost overly carefully the servant's deft fingers unwrapped the torn cloth form her father's hand, absently throwing the blood-soaked garment next to him as he let his eyes deeply study the still bleeding wound.
And then, a mere second after his eyes had fallen on the mangled skin on her father's palm, the servant's eyes looked up to meet his King's, looking almost defeated, as if finding exactly what he had been expecting to find. And she once again felt as if there was something silently being said between the King and his butler, something that she could not quite read.
"How long ago was it?" The butler asked softly, tearing a long strand of his own cloak before pressing it gently over the wound, the King only wincing slightly, as if trying not to show his pain.
"Yesterday night." Arahaelon was the one to reply, and she did not miss the way in which own piercing green eyes were staring attentively at the butler, as if he too felt there was something else they were missing. And yet Galion did not turn to look at his Princes, as if he had only eyes for his King at the moment, seeming to be studying the royal carefully, the latter not reacting to the scrutinizing gaze, looking only regal, powerful, even through the pale tint his skin had now gained and the tiredness that gleam in the farthest depths of his watchful eyes.
"Can you see me clearly, my Lord?" Galion's voice remained gentle as he spoke, yet his eyes continued to deeply study his King, the latter watching the butler intently before slowly shaking his head. No.
And then, it as if after that small confession the mask of strength that had covered the mighty Elvenking abruptly crumbled down, suddenly looking exhausted, disoriented, slumping almost lifelessly against the massive tree trunk. His eyes suddenly fell closed, and for the first time he looked absolutely drained. It was as if there was no longer need to hide anything, Galion having already seen through his mask. And yet, she still did not fully understand the question, why would his father not be seeing clearly?
"What is it?" The Crown Prince's eyes pierced through the butler, suddenly looked worried, demanding an answer quickly. "What is wrong?"
"Poison" The King did not open his eyes as he spoke, his words barely audible yet it was enough to make her blood run cold. "But it is not lethal."
And yet it felt as if she had failed to see the second part, her mind only capable of registering the word 'poison'. But it could not be…she had seen the wound, and it had not looked blackened or infected with anything as she had expected. It had looked simply like a regular wound. Valar, even Arahaelon had inspected it….but then again neither her nor her brother were healers, and if the poison had not been obviously visible it was only expected that they would miss it. But then how long had her father been feelings the effect of the poison? Was this why he appeared so foggy, so weary?
"You knew." The Crown Prince suddenly spoke, his voice as calm as ever, eyes falling instantly on his father, once again seeming to make him look so powerful, so much older than her, the noble and wise Prince she had seen so many times before. "You should have told me. We could have stopped to rest more." It was not a question, it was a statement, and then, suddenly the King's hesitation to show the butler his hand seemed all the more clear. He had known Galion would recognize the poison. And he had been trying to hide it.
And then, the King's ice blue eyes slowly fluttered open, gazing up directly into his son's piercing forest green, suddenly gentle, as liquid and welcoming as swirling endless blue seas, almost pained, apologetic. And it was then that she understood. The King had not wanted his son to know, he had not wanted to worry Arahaelon any more than necessary.
"What is it exactly?" Lossenel's quiet voice made her suddenly remember her presence, her eyes turning to look at the stunning porcelain face of her sister, and this time it was Galion the one to reply.
"The same thing they had tried to use before." For a second she did not understand what the butler meant, but then she remembered the drugged tea that the murderer elf had brought her father only minutes before the fire broke in the Palace, the tea that he had not drunk. Someone clearly wanted the King out of the way, and it seemed that finally they had succeeded at it…."It is not life-threatening, my Prince, it is merely…. Indisposing. There is nothing anyone can do now….simply wait for it to pass."
"Meant to weaken, not to kill." Arahaelon added almost instantly, impenetrable eyes still burning through the servant, and she once again felt as if her eldest brother was always as step ahead of what everyone was thinking. And yet she still did not understand, the blow that the guard had dealt had been aimed to kill, blade strongly thrown directly at her father's middle.
She saw Lossenel opening her mouth to speak, but she never hear the words, a brutal force suddenly pulling her widely, her head abruptly smacking with pain a she suddenly felt herself spinning widely, an imaginable force pushing brutally against all of her barriers. And then there was immediately something else, she barely even feeling fingers curling tightly against her arm, another presence suddenly pulling back at her, away from the invading force in an attempt to free her. And everything happened in a flash, her senses so overwhelming she could not really place what was happening. The instant the second presence had reached for her, had touched her, it was as if an electric shock had accelerated a connection, everything seeming too fast, too overwhelming, as if latching forcefully and accidentally to someone else's mind, the force that had intended the attack suddenly left behind. And yet she hat to fight with all her power against every instinct that told her to simply pull at the presence, to accelerate the connection even more, to control it. She did not know exactly what was happening, the connection too strong for her to break, yet fighting against her every sense not to simply absorb all the energy she could feel around her, not to pull it all into her. She could feel the presence also trying to pull away, to break the connection, but it was too strong.
Images flashed before her eyes, one after the other, some too hazy for her to properly see, too fast, as if playing in a quick procession that she could not control, that she could not stop, engulfing her entirely as she felt herself continuing to spin, the powerful connection still latched securely, almost without her nor the second presence being able to control it, her own eyes suddenly entering memories that were not her own as the connection spun widely.
She saw an elfling running around what seem to be vast green gardens, little feet padding as quickly as they could go over the soft grass while long strands of light blond baby hair flew messily out of neat braids. She could distantly hear the musical voice of a Lady calling behind, but the elfling did not seem to be paying any attention, large emerald gleaming with joy as he continued to run. Those were eyes she would recognize anywhere, ad yet they looked so different there, so open and bright, not a hint of the impenetrable barriers that seemed to always glaze them…
Then the image shifted again, this time an elegant room suddenly delineating around her, the familiar furniture seeming to be almost in the exact place it always had. She knew this room. She had been there many times before, it was the Family Sitting Room on the Palace's Royal Wing. Pale golden light entered from the ample open balcony at the end of the room, cascading with a soft caress on the slender figure of the Queen of Mirkwood. Her long golden hair had been left loosely down her back, only a single silver pin, glistening with emerald pushing the strands back from her face.
"Me! Me! I want to hold her!" The same elfling she had seen before now jumped impatiently up and down next to the long chaise upon which his mother currently sat comfortably, sweet innocent giggles leaving his mouth in a chorus of tiny silver bells. For the first time she noticed the small bundle that lay warmly cradled in the Queen's delicate arms, overflowing with the richest of elegantly embroidered blankets. "Please, Nana, I want to hold Lossie!"
"All right, Arahaelon, but sit here first." Her mother's delicate fingers tapped at the cushions beside her, and she watched as the very young version of the Crown Prince wasted no time before climbing to the indicated spot, his little lets dangling awkwardly in the air, too small to reach the floor when sitting down.
Carefully, the Queen's ever gentle hands deposited her precious bundle on her son's little thin arms, a wide smile appearing on the little elfling as the baby gave a displeased wail, not content with being departed from her mother. But she did not see anything else for the image was replaced quickly once more….
This time the memory formed the image of two elflings lying on their stomachs on the polished marble floor, but the room seemed foggy around them, as if not really all too clear in the memory, the edges fading slightly into white nothingness. Colorful crayons lay scattered all over the floor, as she noticed the two tiny figure hunching over a large piece of parchment, filling it with all sorts of colors and forms.
"Lossie, that is your side of the paper." The Crown Prince's voice chimed with a little childish chuckle, a tiny hand gently pushing the toddler's hand away form where she had been coloring over whatever it was that Arahaelon had been drawing.
The Princes, however, a tiny little form that resembled a two-year-old human child, did not seem to have fully paid attention to what her brother said, tiny fingers messily brushing away soft strands of platinum hair form her face. Instead, the little version of Lossenel kicked her legs over the paper, her small dress almost tangling around her little feet, one of which kicked her older brother's hand, making a long accidental line cross over the parchment.
And yet, the small Prince did not seem in the slightest bothered by it, absently moving his sister's little feet form the way before handing her another crayon, only giggling as the Princess insisted in coloring over his drawing and not where she apparently was supposed to be coloring…
And the images shifted once more, appearing and disappearing in a flash. She was now in the middle of a grand room she had never seen before, long thin archways opening up to what seemed to be a vast interior garden, the leaves outside glistening in multiple tones of red and orange. The softest of melodies twirled peacefully on the wind in the most enchanting tune her ears had ever heard. Only one figure occupied the room, delicate long fingers dancing over the long golden strings of a beautifully crafted harp, moving from string to string in a well practiced choreography.
Attentive emerald eyes, the color of the green infinite forest watch quietly from the opened doorway, the elfling not seeming to move, observant eyes following only his mother's fingers as they jumped from string to string. Arahaelon's green eyes did not seem to miss a single move, a single detail, and she immediately knew that the elfling was not merely looking, he was seeing.
Suddenly, the Queen's hands stopped their waltz over the delicate strings, the warmest and brightest of smiles adorning her face as her eyes turned to look at her son's, as if knowing that he had been there all along.
"Would you like to try playing it, my son? I can teach you if you wish." The Lady's eyes gleamed gently as she spoke, extending a welcoming hand as the elfling slowly approached her, sitting next to her on the elegant stone bench and in front of the grand harp.
A second of silence followed, the young Crown Prince slowly lifting his fingers to the delicate strings, as if calculating his every move. The Queen did not say anything, did not give any instruction yet, simply watching her son. Arahaelon's eyes stared at his own fingers for a second, staying completely still, a look of concentration like she had never seen before suddenly crossing his gaze, as if he was carefully seeing something in his head.
And then his fingers moved. One by one they danced over the golden strings, almost flawlessly, playing the same tuned that the Queen had been playing one moments before, his eyes remaining concentrated on his fingers, as if he knew the moves from memory, as if from merely seeing them he could easily replay them to perfection….
And it shifted yet again, the well lit room transforming into the tall thick trunks of a dense forest, branches swaying softly all around her as the bright sunlight filtered in shimmering sparkles through the thick canopy.
"Careful, Arahaelon." The Elvenking's voice called from behind her, making her turn around in order to find the figure of her father, as tall and royal as before, seeming incredibly powerful yet at the same time gentle, towering behind the form of his eldest son. The King's pale hands rested softly over Arahaelon's shoulders, both elves looking at the forest in front of them. The Crown Prince looked young, the soft childish features not having entirely left his face as he still stood considerably shorter than his father, yet he looked slightly wiser now, resembling the size and build of a human eleven-year old.
Her eldest brother's emerald eyes held a look of intense concentration, as too lost on his task to really see around him, eyes suddenly looking powerful, gleaming with a force she had never seen before in them.
All around her the forest was moving, slowly, gently, as if in perfect control, branches stretching unnaturally as if by magic, lacing beautifully with one another, drawing a proud smile on the vigilant King's eyes. And it was then that she felt it, the magical power floating heavily around the air, the forest seeming to respond in perfect tune to it, as if they were the same. And it was a presence she immediately recognized, the same presence that she was latched to at the moment. It was Arahaelon. The powers currently wielding through the forest, carefully making the branches bend and twirl was coming from the young version of her eldest brother, stretching and travelling form tree to tree, much in the same manner that she had King do before.
"Careful, my son." The King warned softly again when a branch seemed to move a little too fast, but as quickly as the hesitation had happened every once again appeared to regain control, the branches once again slowly moving to Arahaelon's will, her father's proud smile only growing slightly. The Crown Prince was not only perceiving the forces of the trees….he was wielding them, was controlling them.
All too quickly the image shifted again, this time the pale frail moonlight the only source illuminating an equally familiar bedchamber. She recognized immediately, having been there before a couple of times. The silk deep blue curtains swayed languidly at the night breeze, brushing deafly against the polished marble floor, the balcony having been left completely open. But no trees did not sing that night. A tall figure sat silently at the edge of the overly large bed, long silvery hair falling loosely down his back, looking almost greyish in the dim frail light. There was no crown on her father's head, tired, tortured eyes seeming not to notice anything in the room except the alarmingly still figure lying on the comfortable bed.
The Crown Prince seemed to be unconscious; the only sign that he was still alive was the slight rise and fall of his chest. He looked older, exactly as he did in the present. The deep blue silk bed covers were pulled up to his chest, both of his arms lying inertly to his sides over the covers. And it was then that she saw it, this time looking raw, angry red, as if it had only just happened, the shape of her little baby fingertips unable to be missed on his pale left arm…..
Once again the figures morphed, as if not giving her any time to properly at a scene before it switched to another one. This time she was standing in a spacious terrace overlooking the gardens, a terrace where she had never been before. A couple of elegant chaises furnished the ample space, along with some small tables next to it. It was dark outside, but there was no Moon in the sky this time, the sky seeming more black than ever.
Once more, there were only two figures in the room, both of them quiet, still, even though the tension was easy to fell floating like a lurking ghost in the night air. It was Arahaelon she noticed first, her eldest brother standing by the thin intricate railing, green eyes staring deeply at the forest outside. But something was definitely different. Suddenly the Crown Prince's ever gentle, ever patient green eyes seemed to burn with a seething ire that she had though Arahaelon incapable of feeling. His jaw was clenched, his posture tense, arms trembling in rage as they gripped tightly to the silver railing, making her feel he was going to break it. This was so unlike the Arahaelon she knew, so unlike the perfectly composed brother she always saw.
"Arahaelon…" The second figure spoke, her father, voice trailing off as if not finding the words to say. The Elvenking sat silently on one of the comfortable chaises, seeming patient, and yet the usual regal air and tall aura seemed to lack form his posture, making suddenly appear defeated. The King's ice blue eyes stared carefully at his son, and it was the look in those usually powerful eyes that made her feel as though her own heart was shattering to pieces. Her father's eyes looked so pained it hurt to see, almost tortured, as if looking at his son at this moment was the hardest thing in Arda. And yet, the Crown Prince did not move, acting as if he had not hear his father.
The Elvenking's eyes travelled briefly to the entrance of the terrace, meeting his wife's sad green eyes for a second before the Queen let out an equally defeated sigh, swallowing painfully before quickly leaving the room, leaving the Prince alone with his father.
"Arahaelon..." The King's defeated voice tried again, the sound as pained as his eyes, patient yet almost desperate now.
"Leave me alone!" The Crown Prince suddenly hissed, the sound one she would never in her life had imagined coming out of him, full of venom, even his voice shaking with ire, face snapping in his father's direction as his merciless eyes burned through the older elf for a second.
And still the King did not react, as if he somehow knew that the harsh words were not meant for him, had nothing to do with particularly hurting him. But the torturing pain never left her father's eyes which still looked at his eldest son almost pleading, begging him for something.
But the Crown Prince did not turn to look at his father again, hands now shaking in fists tot his side as his own seething eyes turned once to look at the sleeping forest outside, the gaze so intent, as if trying to burn through the trees, as if he himself was trying do desperately to plead something to happen even in the midst of his ire. But nothing did. Nothing moved.
"Arahaelon, please…"Her father pleaded again, her brother's head once again snapping in his direction, the ire in his emerald eyes so potent, so penetrating. But this time it was the son's eyes that seemed the most painful, those usually serene irises suddenly looking overwhelmingly tortured, so much that it hurt to see, and she would have looked away had she been able to. She had never seen someone so angry, someone so hurt, so…desperate. And yet, only after a mere second, her brother's boiling eyes turned to once again furiously gaze at the forest outside, as if once again pleading with all of his might, all of his willpower.
"My son, please…..come sit with me." Pain tormented the soft sound of her father's voice, eyes once again begging for his son to listen.
"I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE!" Arahaelon yelled this time, the sound ripping through her like a fiery knife, face again turning to glare furiously at his father, almost as if he was no longer in control of himself, his hands shaking more forcefully to his sides. But once again the King did not react to his son's harsh yell, as if the enraged sound could not anger him in the slightest, only seeming to hurt him instead.
"You have a right to be angry." The King's voice remained as gentle as before, slowly rising from the chaise before making his way to where the Crown Prince stood, standing patiently next to his firstborn son.
"It was an accident." Arahaelon hissed in return, voice once again trembling with rage, with agony, his furious eyes not turning to look at his father as the words left his tightly clenched teeth. She could see her brother's hands gripping at the railing forcefully once more, as it was the only way he could let go of some of his despair.
"That does not mean you cannot be angry that it happened." The father's soft voice spoke in return, once again not seeming disturbed or angered by his son's rage and harsh voice, as if he could easily see that it was pain what lay beneath his seething ire.
"Fine, yes I am angry!" Her brother suddenly snapped, poison dripping from his words as the fury in his eyes seemed to almost want to burn the Elvenking to ashes, the latter once again not reacting, letting Arahaelon fully lash out at him.
"I AM ANGRY! I AM ANGRY AT HER! ANGRY AT HER!" The Crown Prince suddenly yelled, as if only screaming at the full power of his lungs could somehow offer some relief from the torturous pain, the seething fury she could see in consuming emerald eyes. He was breathing heavily now, trembling more than before, and for the first time she caught sight of the silvery glimmer of tears starting to glaze his tormented eyes. It a sight shocking to see, her brother suddenly lashing out like that. "I AM ANGRY AT HER! AT HER! SHE IS ONLY A BABY, AND YET I AM FURIOUS AT ALMAREA! I HATE HER! WHAT DOES MAKE ME THEN!"
"It makes you real." Was the King's only reply, soft voice as if his sons had not been yelling at him at all, the pain in his eyes when looking at his son only making the scene almost unbearable to see.
And then, just like that, Arahaelon broke. The figure that always seemed so steady to her, so in control, noble even in few times she had seen him anything but serene. She was forced to watch in silence as her brother's heavy breathing suddenly became choked, the first few tears staring to trail fraily down his smooth pale cheeks, the previously furious expression suddenly replaced by the most heart-wrenching misery she could imagine, as if no matter how much he tried the utter agony he felt would not disappear. And it was then that the King finally touched his son, strong arms immediately wrapping around the crumbling figure, the tortured expression on his face one that would forever remain in her mind, as if holding his broken son, listening to his hear-breaking now uncontrollable sobs was the hardest thing he had ever been forced to do. Arahaelon's body continued to wrack with choked sobs, his breathing erratic now, and for a second she wished more than anything to be able to look away.
"I…" Her eldest brother spoke in between sobs, trembling hands now forcefully gripping at his father's robes as if it was the only thing that would ever keep him alive. "I…..I cannot…..I can no longer…." He kept trailing off in between heart-wrecking sobs, unable to finish the sentence, but the King did not need to hear the full sentence, as if already knowing what it was that was tearing his son apart….and it was tearing him apart too.
"I know" Was all the comfort the King seemed to be able to give.
She did not know for how long she watched, but the Crown Prince's agonizing sobs never let up, as if no amount of crying could ever alleviate his pain, could put him back together. The King continued to simply hold his son in silence, as if he too had no words to give, only his presence. And it seemed after an eternity before Arahaelon spoke again, hos choked, pained filled sobs never once stopping, never once slowing.
"I do not hate her." And it was the pain in his voice, in that tortured confession that would have made cry had she been really present in the room, his voice so honest, yet full of agony, as if it would be easier to have someone to simply blame.
"I know that too…"
And then, as abruptly as it had started, the connection suddenly broke, Arahaelon suddenly pulling away as if with a new found force, the images – memories – stopping to flow as the quiet night-lit forest came once to focus all around her, impenetrable, sealed emerald eyes looking intently at hers, unreadable, guarded, suddenly no longer open or inviting, freezing her in place, and she suddenly knew that whatever she had accidentally seen through the connection had not been meant for her to see, as if she had suddenly and without permission crossed a personal barrier, an invisible line…
So here's chapter 45! I hope you enjoy reading it, eve though its not too happy hehe but there are new things coming to the light! Please let me know what you think!
Also thank you thank you thank you to those of you who reviewed my latest chapter, I hope this very short wait came as a good thing and you can forgive the little cliffie left here… Mary Elrondile, Tibblets, brandibuckeye, Wtiger5 and Josie!
Again, this chapter is dedicated to Martine9295, I hope it makes your day a little more amazing!
Love,
Elena