{A/N}: See what happens when you guys review?~ Faster update!~ lol, though I did have this halfway finished anyway. And speaking of reviews...guys..guys..nu. I-I'm not that gewd. How you all compliment my writing is so very appreciated. Really. You guys are awesome. I just really hope you all continue to enjoy it and bear with me as this progresses. I'm no writer, really,...I'm...more of a doodle-ist.

I hope this chapter isn't too confusing. Firstly, its two in the morning while I'm finishing this up (Because I write better when I'm tired. Weird? Yeeep.) and I often have trouble getting out how I want characters feelings to be conveyed into words without...actually saying what their true feelings are! xD. Secondly, I wanted to have this done for you all because things are about to get busy for me again, and I may not be able to work on this for awhile.(Sidenote- I'm sliiightly considering doing a Nuada/Nuala oneshot. Possibly...Maybe...its just buzzing around in my mind. asdsidk)

So, I hope you enjoy this chapter, excuse my typos, and if anyone can guess what I'm trying to imply in Nuada, I'll give you a cookie!~

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6-And here I thought...-

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Nuada watched, only halfway attentive, as Fjóla paced about what he figured to be her bedroom. Small little thing, it was, but with a sense of comfort and security that made up for its lack of size.

A twin bed lined the wall opposite of the door, with a window at its foot. Placed adjacent was a desk donned with assortments of artistic mediums and supplies. Where Fjóla stood, several crumpled and balled up pieces of paper lay, which she kicked at halfheartedly. One bounced over to the prince's feet and Fjóla met his intent scrutiny before ducking her head, hair swishing down like concealing curtain, and pacing again.

Back and forth, she walked, in the small area which she was able to, a cell phone held to her ear. (Yes, he knew what a cell phone was. And a many other things. He'd not spent the advancing centuries in ignorance.) She mumbled sounds of unfocused agreement now and again, all while nervously flicking those odd eyes to the imposing elf that stood between the doorway.

This had been going on for ten minutes now and his patience was running dangerously thin…

…Yet, he held strong against the pugnacious desire to snap at the woman whom was so openly avoiding the situation at hand. Avoiding speaking with him.

All because the other half of his attention was focused on the havoc mess that was his thoughts. Thoughts on what had exactly happened minutes ago upon his arrival. He had an idea- but it was impossible, and he struggled to reject it from the scrambling list of possibilities forming within his mind. For various reasons unknown to him, because if those possibilities were true there would be no real issue.

Or, that would be what any one else but Nuada would gather.

Fjóla was human. Wasn't she? Unusual eyes and that unbelievable mellowness toward otherwise abnormal situations weren't all that special. All in all, that just made her strange and a reckless fool!

But an uneasiness lingered… perhaps he'd been the fool. Perhaps all her strange, mortal-like actions were just some pretense.

But why?

Nuada's mind was reeling. The anger and confusion he felt made him nearly snatch the phone from Fjóla, hurl it aside, and demand she explain. But he needed a moment to just think- to conclude a reasonable explanation and motive as to why she would conceal her true nature and deceive him about being a-

Abruptly, the being of his current discontent halted, drawing him from his thoughts to watch her carefully. And, to also extend his senses toward her that have, up until then, detected nothing…'uncanny' about her-save for the sensations of her eyes still left upon him.

Whatever...that was he felt within the living room, whatever that essence was about her was completely gone now. Yet, she was all of a sudden still, quiet. Her face was an unreadable mask and her usually vivid eyes had gone flat in the light. A smile no longer hid along the corners of her lips; Fjóla appeared..coolly detached.

The change in behavior had her looking…older; since her usual antics made her seem very childish.

No less…picturesque, but.., Nuada thought absently,(the irony of his choice of wording was not lost to him.) and his anger waned slightly. It caused a peculiar chill to creep over his skin, and he frowned. That look, on her, didn't sit right with him. He didn't dwell on the reason why, because Fjóla began to speak.

"Oh, I see. Toda- No, I'm sorry but not…today. Please." Eyes, more of a dark purple, darted to him and he felt his brow arch. Something was said to her that made her stiffen. "Yes, tomorrow will be fine…"

After that, Fjóla muttered a quick notion of gratitude and said her goodbyes to whomever she was speaking with. Whom, to his surprise and rising discomfort, he was becoming extremely curious about. Nuada was already peeved with the fact that she so bluntly walked off from him, dodging him so suddenly…and his miffed state of attitude returned full fledged.

Yet, it waned once again when she smiled at him. It was painfully obvious that it was forced.

It failed to reach her eyes. A fact that had Nuada's frown deepening, and a deep hum of repugnance leaving him. More at his mind getting off track of questioning her due to her sudden tenseness than the actual reason-or person- to cause it. That's what he told himself.

"I, um, sorry about that. I always get just a tad upset when others suddenly run off when I'm talking to them…and here I am doing the same thing!" She gave something akin to a laugh. "Ah well. Now we can head back to the-"

Nuada held up a hand, silencing her. No. He wouldn't allow her sudden mood change and word spewing to dissuade him from questioning what had happened. It had nothing to do with the occurrence twenty minutes prior and only proved as an annoying distraction. While the urge to ask why she seemed upset was unbelievably overbearing, the prince got straight to it.

"What are you?"

Fjóla froze, and Nuada knew the moment when she was about to reply with that annoying, 'What do you mean?' when she clearly knew what he meant. But the demanding stare he held on her had the woman producing only a slight squawking sound.

Nuada moved further into the room. A move that made him appeared to be a stalking predator, and Fjóla the skittish prey.

"You were able to detect my presence. I felt…it. You." He nearly hovered over her now, in the small space her room offered. Fjóla visibly swallowed, and managed to shuffle around him a bit-backing up was impossible- but slightly adjusting their positions wasn't. "

"I-I…don't know what you're talking about." Fjóla had stuttered still with that strained smile, yet with her eyes darting about almost frantically. Her nervousness only added to his suspension. "As cool as it would be, I don't...possess super powers! Or would it be magical abilities? Either way, that would be just silly, your highness. Now..." She had slowly begun to ease her way around Nuada more, toward the doorway. What she thought unnoticed by Nuada- who merely glowered darkly at her- was so obvious in its execution.

She was trying to escape him again. The foolish woman.

Just as she gave a sudden burst of movement forward, Nuada snagged her back by the arm. Hand curled tight like an iron bracelet around her slim bicep, he tugged her purposely back toward him. Fjóla, with a look of outright mortification and shock written in her wide eyes, could only give a strangled gasp of surprise at his rough treatment. His grip only tightened when she regained some of her wits and tried to pull away. If he was hurting her, it was plain to see that he didn't care.

"What are you-" "-You will not-"

There was a simultaneous inhale of air.

"What is the point in hiding-" "-You're hurting me, please-"

Then an agitated grunt and a soft sigh.

"I'm not hiding any-" "If you just tell the tru-"

The prince's lips pressed into a thin line, while Fjóla simply quieted and flushed at their talking over one another. When she look down, Nuada lightly tugged her again. Still, she kept her gaze down. A tense silence stretch between them-in which Nuada's flaring emotions came into check and he released a resigned sigh. Again, he just wanted to know why.

With a tone he hadn't intended to be so gentle, he asked, "What is that you wish to hide? Why is it that you wish to hide it?"

She said nothing, did nothing, only swayed away from him.

"Fjóla," He pressed, loosening his hold on her arm, "will you not speak? Now, of all moments, you choose to hold that tongue of yours?"

When he got silence again Nuada fought against huffing out his minor frustration at his unanswered questions. It was odd, so very odd, her being so still and reserved, but he knew now- She was hiding something from him. A matter of what she was, something she probably believed she should be ashamed of. Nuada did huff at that. Still, he wanted to be sure. He wanted her to admit it herself.

"I had come to believe we were...on a mutual ground of growing acquaintanceship." He prompted softly, giving her arm something bordering a friendly squeeze-as if apologizing for its earlier abuse.

But, when muted golden irises peppered with deep violet peered up at him through her dark lashes, Nuada dropped her arm completely, and stepped back. She adverted her new eyes to some point over his shoulder, face smooth of any ripple of emotion like an undisturbed lake.

"I.." Fjóla began with a delicate tone so unlike the one he'd come to know. It held a heaviness to it, and his throat tightened as his brows tensely knitted together.

"I will ask that you leave now, your highness. And please, don't come back."