A/N: And here's chapter four. :) How are you all holding out? Is it still interesting to read? Feedback and suggestions are welcome! Thank you in advance.

It was still dark. Caithe turned and writhed in her sheets, head whipping from side to side. She was fast asleep, but her face was twisted into an expression of anguish. She was groaning, her closed eyes moving from side to side, unseeing. She turned, and bit the pillow, as if to hold in a scream. Her body arched and stretched, little droplets of sweat on her forehead.

In her head visions of terrible things were swimming. Deserted paths, undefeatable enemies. A cold table. A friend lost. Pain.

Tears streamed down her cheeks while she rolled over to her back again. A forest. Blood splatter on the ground. Crying out where no one can hear you. A scalpel. Pain.

Faolain, next to her, cringed in her sleep. She curled up, trying to shield herself from the very same visions. Suddenly, their hands found each other, and they interlaced their fingers in an almost bruising grip.

Darkness. Pain.

Yellow eyes towering over them. A knife.

A sword, out of reach.

Agony.

Faolain shot up, gasping for air as if she had been underwater. She quickly looked over to Caithe, still locked up in dreams. She tried to gently shake her awake, but her racing heart made her rougher than she'd liked. A stinging pain shot up her shoulder, which she ignored.

'Caithe! Caithe, wake up!' Caithe groaned again, reached out and found Faolain's arm, squeezing it tightly, as if she wanted to break it. Faolain jerked herself loose from the - frankly quite painful- grip and shook Caithe again, calling her name. Then she gritted her teeth and smacked Caithe hard across the face, making her eyes snap open. Caithe sat upright as well, eyes wide, a dazzled expression on her face.

'Caithe-' Faolain started, but stopped when Caithe whispered, more to herself than to the other, 'Something's not right.' Faolain just nodded. 'With the others.' Caithe whispered again, and Faolain looked at her hands.

'I felt it, I can still feel it,' Faolain weakly clutched her skin above her heart with her good hand. 'That terrible pain..' Caithe let out a shivery breath.

'I think we all did.' They looked at each other, both frightened and confused. When Caithe rested her head against Faolain's shoulder, and sought comfort in her presence, they felt a certain peace. A peace reflecting in the warmth of Faolain's hand on her hair, or the sound of her breath, or in the certainty that she was there. It was security, a sanctuary in her arms.

Miles away, a chained up Sylvari felt the same, a small spark of comfort growing into a speck of hope. For another however, it was already too late.

.

When Caithe woke up again, she heard birds chirping outside the window. Slowly, memories of the past day drowned out the blurry images of nightmares. She tensed her muscles a few times to get out of the cramped position she was in. She lifted her head from Faolain's chest and looked up at the other. Her love was staring in the distance, not asleep, but her mind was far away. Faolain's eyes were blank, but her lips curled down. She looked in between fear, sadness and anger. Caithe softly stroked the side of her face.

'Faolain?' she whispered, and the other immediately reacted. Her eyes turned down to Caithe's face, her mouth relaxed. 'Yes?' The other answered, more through their connection than through the soft, breathy sound she made. Caithe sighed, relieved.

'Did you sleep at all?' Faolain held her tighter. 'Yes. But it was a harsh night for the both of us, I think.'

'For all of us.' Caithe agreed. She nuzzled Faolain for a moment, then got up, and opened the wooden window shutters. The view was wonderful. The city lay beneath her, white and golden, built in a perfect circle. The fresh breeze streamed into the room and cleared their minds. She could hear the hustle of people in the streets. Merchants setting up their stalls and early customers bargaining with them. She inhaled the fresh air and leaned out the window, drinking in the sights.

Without a sound, Faolain had appeared behind her. She adjusted the bandages on her shoulder, and looked at her ripped dress. Sighing, she tore it off. It was broken, and useless now. She then joined Caithe at the windowsill.

'Beautiful, is it not?'

'Unlike anything I have ever seen.' Caithe idly rearranged the leaves on her shoulder. 'You took off your dress.'

'It is broken, torn beyond repair. I will grow a new one.' Faolain smiled. 'It will take a few days.' She had rearranged other leaves in the telltale bell shape already, but it was lacking something. Caithe opened her mouth to say something, but a knock on the door interrupted her. A shrill, high voice called from outside.

'M'lord? M'lady?' Caithe and Faolain looked at each other, unsure of what to do. After a moment of silence, the woman knocked again.

'M'lord? Are you awake?' Faolain settled herself on her the bed. 'Does she mean us?' Caithe shrugged, holding the windowsill, for lack of having anything better to do with her hands. Unsure, Faolain called out to the woman.

'Uh.. come in? If you would like to?' The door swung open, and a plump, short lady walked in, immediately smiling and chattering about how she knew they were awake and figured she had heard them talk and -

Suddenly she dropped the bundle of clothing she had been holding with a startled 'Goodness, m'lady!' which startled both the Sylvari in return. She ran over to Faolain and grabbed the covers, wrapping the Sylvari in them. 'Completely undressed before m'lord, m'lady I did not think, you two are not even wed yet, they should not have-' Faolain squeaked awkwardly, very uncomfortable with the sudden close contact. Caithe turned around, an apologetic expression on her face.

'Ah, ma'am, I think there has been a misunderstanding,' she started, and the girl stared at her, jaw dropped. 'Ah.. you are m'lady?' Faolain's deadly glare suddenly changed into an amused laugh.

'We are both ladies, madam.'

.

This seemed to calm down the woman quite a lot, though it was still unacceptable to her that Queen Jenna's guests were in such a state of undress. Neither Caithe nor Faolain really understood why, but they were guests and would adapt to the customs of the host, if necessary. Apparently this included covering up.

The plump, energetic woman assured them she would fix the problem and told them not to leave the room, 'Under any circumstances! Just imagine the scandal if anyone... well.. just stay put, please, m'ladies!' It felt like Caithe and Faolain barely had a chance to talk this event over when she returned, a whole crew of seamstresses and tailors in tow. She assigned them all a corner of the room and started to organize and lay out the fabrics. Caithe stayed at the window, smiling but nervously eying the bolts of fabric.

Faolain walked up to the woman and gazed at the fabrics, slid her finger over them, feeling the different textures of the cloth. Her eyes grew wide in wonder as she touched a silk, so smooth that it slid through her fingers like water.

'What is this, madam?' she asked. The woman smiled widely, pleased that at least one of her queen's guests took an interest in fashion. 'You have excellent taste, m'lady. This is the finest silk in Kryta, imported especially for Queen Jenna herself. The lady queen only wears light colours however, so I was allowed to offer these darker colours to her guests..' she trailed off, talking about how the fabrics were dyed and the last batch had been too dark for the queen. Faolain held the fabric in her hands, let it slide through her fingers, and wrapped it loosely around her hands, looking at it from all sides.

'It's beautiful,' she sighed, dreamily, 'I've never felt anything so smooth before... it reminds me of water.' The woman smiled. 'It will look gorgeous on you, the colour matches your extraordinaire complexion almost perfectly.' Then she gestured to two of the tailors to come over, and they quickly took some measurements. The woman patted Faolain's hand when her face showed a certain discomfort at this.

'It will only take a minute, m'lady, and I assure you it will be worth it!'

.

Caithe had been watching the whole ordeal from her windowsill, glad that they had not directed their attention towards her yet. She was incredibly grateful for the generosity of this woman and her host, but the idea of wrapping herself in these strange materials did not appeal to her very much. She had looked at the fabrics up close, they were everywhere - on the bed, on the bolts, on the people, next to her windowsill. They had this strange familiarity, she could feel they had once been plants, but had been maimed beyond recognition. It was like a fish, stripped from flesh and the bones used to build a trap. She admired the technique, but would rather not have it anywhere on her. Mostly because she wanted to be agile and not restricted in her movements in battle, but also because the idea was just too.. weird.

Faolain was taken to another corner of the room to have some simple fittings, the tailors scribbling on pieces of paper and making markings on patterns, trying to fit and arrange her leafy skin into a flattering shape. Then the woman stepped to Caithe and bowed, folding her hands.

'And you, m'lady? Anything that caught your fancy?' Caithe stuttered, not sure how to reply without coming off as rude. The woman was so generous, she would feel bad if Caithe would decline, and it would probably cause a scandal, too..

'M'lady is not used to the concept of corsets?' Caithe did not know what a corset was, so she just shook her head. The woman glanced over at Faolain for a second, who was admiring her fabric again while tailors took measurements of her make-shift leaf dress that flowed around her legs.

'I uh,' Caithe started, 'can't be restricted too much. For.. combat reasons.' she struggled out. The woman nodded and brought her hand to her mouth, in a pondering gesture.

'I see.. but we simply cannot let you walk around the city like this, m'lady. It would be.. unheard of.'

'I understand,' said Caithe. She would try to compromise as much as she could. 'Can we not arrange something with these?' She touched the wide leaves she had draped over her shoulder, showing that they could be moved and posed. The woman's eyes grew large and she nodded. 'Yes, yes ofcourse! Let me just- I will be right back, m'lady!' She turned around and quickly began to whisper with one of the ladies at the door. The lady seemed confused at first, but then her eyes began to sparkle. She came up to Caithe.

'My lady? I am her Majesty's hairdresser, so very pleased to meet you.' Caithe gave a small bow and a nervous laugh. 'If you'd let me, my lady, I would love to arrange your... fashion articles for you, in an appropriate manner, my lady.' Caithe still looked nervous. 'You're not going to cut anything, are you?'

'No, my lady, of course not, if that is your wish,' the hairdresser said, bowing once again. Caithe smiled.

'Then that seems a perfect solution to me. I would like to accept your help and give you my gratitude,' she said, trying to copy the ladies' formal way of speaking. 'Nonsense, my lady,' the hairdresser replied, 'the pleasure is all mine.'

Caithe's face relaxed. In the corner, two seamstresses were tightening a corset around Faolain's waist. One had her knee pressed to Faolain's back, pulling the corset further closed, while the other pulled the lacing tight. The one pulling the lacing asked Faolain with a concerned face, 'my lady, are you sure this is not too tight?'

The Sylvari looked over her shoulder, a mischievous smile on her lips.

'Too tight? Madame, are you even trying?'

.

Finally, the two strolled around Divinity's Reach, the white city of humans. Caithe's leaves had been rearranged into a tight-fitting bodysuit of sorts, following the natural lines of her slender body, and wrapping around her legs. She felt agile, none of her leaves waving in the wind anymore. The hairdresser had certainly made a masterpiece out of this impossible task. Faolain seemed more than content with her dark silk dress, light and flowy, the tight corset cinching in her waist. The low neckline gave her an air of elegance, but the attire mostly boosted her confidence, and Caithe once again felt that unmistakable presence, just being by her side. There was no ignoring her. Her presence filled her environment like a subtle, but unique perfume. As they walked, the people gazed in awe. Caithe for the most part gazed back, evenly as perplexed as her admirers.

They browsed at the markets, getting excited over all the little trinkets they found here and there. They experienced the life of the humans, tasted their food, and the humans were so strangely welcoming to them. They had as much questions for them as the Sylvari had for the locals.

'How do you like Divinity's Reach?' 'How long will you be staying?' 'Have you tried my famous apple pie yet?' 'Are you married, my lady?' 'What is the Grove like?' 'Are you truly trees, or do you just look like them?'

At one point, Faolain was dragged off with the fashion ladies, whom, as they said, simply adored her complexion and had no doubt it would be the next big summer hype. Black is the new white, they said. Faolain smiled and went along with it, she did not mind the attention at all. Caithe wandered off, exploring the streets endlessly, through the small alleys, to the emptier parts of the city. She stopped at every corner, looking at the subtle wear and tear on the stone housing, the markings made by the villagers, picked up a few dropped items, which she kept for later studies or, if possible, returned to their owners. At last, she walked into a small oasis in the city, a small garden with pillars neatly placed into it. It also had a statue of a human god.

Underneath a thin roof of leaves hanging from the statue, sheltered from the world, a pair of humans sat, a young man and a young woman. They were holding each other, pressing their lips together, intertwining as if they would die if they let go. Caithe stepped back, and pretended to look at the pillars. She felt bad for intruding on such an intimate moment, and yet - she had yet to see a display of love, other than her own. Her curiosity overcame her shame and she looked for a place to hide. Sneaking as silently as she could, she went to a nearby tree, and vanished in the shadow. Travelling from shadow to shadow, and ending in a tree next to the statue, she moved closer to the couple. Observing.

When finally the couple left, hastily redoing their clothes and kissing each other goodbye, Caithe slid inconspicuously from the shadow of the tree, strolling along as if nothing happened. Suddenly her head ached and she felt uneasy. She had not even noticed that she had been so focused, so concentrated on hiding herself and observing the intriguing ritual, that she had completely ruled out all other senses. Now that she did realize, all her senses returned at once, and she felt Faolain's panic.

Caithe, where are you? Why won't you answer me?

.

Caithe slid the shutters of the window closed and locked them, placing her hands on the windowsill. Faolain stood in their room, her back turned to her. Caithe let out a deep sigh, unsure of what to do. 'My love, I-' Immediately she felt Faolain's anger flare up.

I do not wish to talk. Faolain was channelling it to her on purpose. Caithe walked around her, tried to grab her hand, but Faolain whacked it away. Her eyes flamed with anger.

Do you know how long I have been trying to locate you? Caithe smiled at that, even though she felt sad. Faolain had never been this distant before.

'I am a Thief. You're not supposed to be able to find me. Besides, I can't have been gone longer than a few hours..' Faolain scowled. She folded her arms and gave Caithe a displeased look that seemed to say I hate not knowing where you are, no matter the amount of time.

'It's been what, two days, and you are turning into a human already.' she suddenly spat. 'Can you even feel what I am telling you? Can't you feel the disturbances? Something is wrong, again, Caithe. Something is wrong with our family at the Grove, and you were nowhere to be found!' Caithe now noticed tears shimmering in the corners of Faolain's eyes, but her expression was fierce. Caithe walked up to her, and gently pulled her in her arms, holding her.

I can feel it, Faolain. I am sorry. Faolain slowly relaxed against her.

Don't leave me again, I do not like it when you leave.

Faolain..

Your heart belongs to me, Caithe. I will not share it with anyone else.

Caithe smiled. 'You don't have to. You are with me now.'

'I will be with you always.' Faolain replied, and stroked Caithe's arm with her fingernails, leaving shallow scratches.

'Your greed rivals that of a human.' Caithe mocked her, and took Faolain's lack of visible offence as a sign that they were on good terms once more. 'Speaking of humans, I am not the one donning human made attire.' Now Faolain shot her a warning glance, don't make me angry again. Caithe was not impressed though, and went on, softly, almost whispering. 'And as much as I like to see you wear it,' her hand travelled towards the corset lacing at the back and pulled it loose, 'I also learned today,' she pushed the bodice open, holding Faolain's arm with her other hand, so that she could not stop her. Faolain's eyes widened, and she looked at Caithe, confused though unable to hide her interest.

Caithe? What are you-

'..that humans have a very special reason for taking it off, and to be honest,' her tone had dropped to a mere whisper now. She pushed down the bodice, letting the dress pool on the floor, in a smooth heap of fabric. Her hands slid up her lover's body, pulling her close, and she pressed their lips together in a tender kiss.

to be honest, I would much rather see you as Sylvari.