Resident.
Thoughts of Laurë, tending to the garden at home sent warm fuzzies in her belly, almost strong enough to nullify the annoying buzz that danced at the edge of her senses from all networks and city interferences. She was getting better at blocking them thanks to her elf's training, and her infatuation only grew.
"He is at ease," she responded, eyes diving into her hot chocolate to avoid Myriam's knowing look. "Still adjusting."
"Last time I saw him, he seemed comfy with the language."
Understatement of the year. Laurë probably spoke a better English than 90% of the commonwealth at that point; the only reason she still had the upper hand resided in her field of studies. Being a history teacher had its perks when dealing with a super brain.
"Yeah. Culture is another thing."
While the elf handled the language with skill now, he still suffered from being stuck in a human world. Their last shopping trip had demonstrated how badly an elven soul coped with human's obsessions.
"I bet things were pretty different in his community," Myriam mused, dark curls falling over her cheek as she sipped at her brew. "There were probably pretty uptight."
Elanor chuckled, remembering Laurëfindelë's last existential crisis with a smirk. It had been a quiet dinner, the likes of which both of them relished in. Just organic food, simple and nicely cooked, water, and silence. The very best. Until Laurë set his glass down with a very serious look that sent alarms blaring in her mind.
"Elanor, there is a strange question I need to ask."
The young woman nodded, intimidated by the intensity she read in his deep blue eyes.
"Do you enjoy, erm… being, er, spanked ? Or whipped ?"
Elanor almost spat her mouthful of chicken, choking on it instead. She coughed, and coughed, reaching out for water only to reach for that glass dancing in front of her eyes. Drinking a long draught, she found Laurëfindelë kneeling by her side, blond brows knitted in worry and guilt.
"Laurë," she rasped, caught in silent laughter. "What have you been reading ?"
Gaze averted, the elf rubbed her back by instinct. His hand was warm, creating tingles along her spine. "Not reading, I'm afraid."
"Watching ?" she chanced, searching his gaze only to find a strange expression upon his fair features. The mix of his noble mien and sheepish look was so starling that her brain froze. And when he lifted a hand to rub his eyes, like a child about to go to bed, her heart melted entirely.
"Aye, the images are etched in my mind. I cannot get rid of them."
Elanor reached out, grabbing his hand to convey her support. Whatever he'd found on TV this afternoon had shaken him strongly, and she grew fearful.
"Do you remember the title ?"
"I'm not sure," he whispered, disturbed. "Something to do with greys."
Elanor frowned, searching her mind; she wasn't too knowledgeable about TV shows. Hopeless was more like it. "Grey's anatomy? A TV series with doctors ?"
Laurë shook his head, eyebrows still knotted in distress.
"It had to do with shades of grey. I expected a documentary about painting techniques."
Shades of… of my god.
Elanor suddenly burst out laughing. Poor Laurë had been the unwilling witness of the depravity of fifty shades of grey! No wonder he was lost and asking strange questions. Albeit they had never talked much about sex, it wasn't difficult to see elves were very respectful of touch. They would never hurt one another, especially loved ones.
"Well, you may view it as a documentary," she responded.
Laurë's frown dissolved, eyes opening so wide that she could catch all the nuances in his mesmerising eyes. "About… what ?"
"I am unsure, Laurë. I do not understand it myself."
"Well, I was never quite interested in females, but none of my friends ever mentioned such… things."
No, I bet they didn't.
Myriam dissolved on the table, laughing until tears leaked down her face. If Elanor had found amusement in Laurë's predicament, she felt slightly awkward at Myriam's blatant response.
The matter of sexual relationship had been an unspoken subject, at the cottage, but it did not feel as taboo as Myriam seemed to think; it just didn't come on the table before. And given the discussion they'd had afterwards – a sacred bond to elves - , she wasn't surprised by Laurë's reaction to a 'romance' that started out as hard fanfiction of an even worse novel.
Once more, Elanor marvelled that she and Laurëfindelë were aligned on the real meaning of sex. That the elf considered mingling bodies the ultimate commitment made more sense, to her, than a casual encounter. Especially since she'd never, ever considered any acquaintance worth putting in her bed.
But Myriam enjoyed Twilight, and did not baulk at the psychological abuse that caused Elanor to shy away from the books. There was a whole world of unhealthiness, out there, she'd rather ignore than study. Once Myriam recovered enough from her fit, she winked at Elanor.
"It was more like fifty shades of red, mm ?"
"Yeah… He was as shocked as I was the first time I heard about it. This is so sick."
The nurse pinned her with an assessing look, and Elanor suddenly felt very out of place in the little café. Perhaps the city bustle was wearing her thin, but she suddenly had the urge to flee. To return to that safe place, where things made sense; with Laurë, feline, and the cottage.
"Well, you always were different."
What kind of different ? Isn't it normal to treasure one's integrity and reject suffering ? Spooked, Elanor retorted hotly: "What ? Don't tell me you'd like to be whipped!"
"No, but a little domination in bed can be exciting."
Mouth agape, Elanor cringed. "Yeah… No. Not ever, no."
"Suit yourself," Myriam chortled, licking the spoon laden with cream and sugar suggestively. "Vanilla sex is enough for some people. It's not like you're…"
There was just a hint of judgement in Myriam's eyes, that reminder of their differences. The nurse always told her to loosen up, but Elanor always felt strongly about relationship and sex. Yes, her views were outdated, but it wasn't like she forced others to follow her principles. Eyes narrowing, she bit back: "Like I'm what ?"
Myriam seemed to search for the right words, mouth cringing to the side.
"The nymphomaniac style, I bet," she shrugged. And Elanor heard all the words she wasn't saying. Prude. Rigid. Frigid, maybe. But Myriam wasn't done giving counsel as she went on:
"But still, a little is better than none. There are so many studies now that show how good sex and orgasms are healthy. So why don't you ask mister six pack ? You don't even have to share your bed since he basically sleeps next door."
There was something utterly, profoundly wrong in those words. The idea of using Laurë that way sent a shiver down her spine, not that he wasn't attractive. It just felt degrading to consider him like a piece of meat. Sex friends, some called them. Chevalier baisant, on the other side of the channel. A man used for sexual purposes. Friends with benefits. It all felt so degrading, to her, and Elanor finally understood what it meant to be half-elven.
Elvish principles were embedded in her DNA. To sleep with somebody would be to invite him, as a partner, in her Feä. To create a strong bond. She could never use Laurë casually; she loved him too much to even think of it.
"It's not like that," she mumbled, nausea taking hold of her stomach. Unrequited love was a pain, but she's rather pine than push him.
"Why not ?" Myriam snorted, downing the remaining of her coffee in one go. "I can tell you have it bad for him, just snatch the man before he slips away !"
Panic suddenly seized her heart, and Elanor took a long, deep whiff of her green tea to settle her nerves. To no avail; the very notion of Laurëfindelë leaving created such turmoil in her soul that she lost the grip upon her protection bubble. At once, interferences from the modern world assaulted her, turning her brain to mush.
"Elanor ? Are you alright ?"
No. No, no, no… Taking a deep breath, Elanor recalled Laurë's voice in her mind, singing a protection prayer to the Valar. She felt warmth bloom in her chest at the memory of his musical tones, and soon enough, she recovered enough to nod.
"So. Yeah, why don't you, you know ?" Myriam insisted.
The nurse had always been the persistent type, always pushing Elanor to go out more, to socialise a bit. All in hopes to avoid she secluded herself like her mother, and end up in the psychiatric ward too early. But today, Myriam's insistence grated on her nerves; perhaps because it hit so close to home. Or perhaps because of the nagging headache that was taking hold of her frontal lobe.
"I… I think he's mourning a past lover."
The notion caused Myriam to pause, if only for a moment.
"Someone alive ? In his community ?" she asked.
Of course, she wouldn't leave it alone.
"No," Elanor confessed. And she almost mentioned Echtelion, but curbed her tongue at the last moment. Myriam was far from homophobic, but Laurë's private life was already exposed enough. "Dead."
"Well, he's not getting her back," the nurse retorted. "So what are you waiting for ?"
Shocked, Elanor bit back rather hotly: "He's mourning ! I'm not going to throw myself at him like a hussy."
She caught the moment Myriam's temper flared, eyes narrowing at her. "A hussy ? Is that what you think of women that ask men out ?"
The nurse's annoyance radiated, her anger levelling Elanor's defences like a shockwave. At once, the history teacher lifted her hands in peace, regretting her misplaced words.
"No ! Of course not."
She would never judge a woman for showing interest in a man. And even if she didn't do casual sex due to her peculiar mindset, she did not judge others for their needs. But Laurë's situation was different; despite his brightness, his Feä was still damaged.
"I'm just trying to be respectful," she sighed.
Her words seemed to appease Myriam for a full ten seconds, before a mischievous smirk lifted the corner of her lips.
"But you're not saying no."
Touché. Despite her bluntness, Myriam always had her best interest at heart. She was the Yang to her Yin, pushing her to voice feelings, and embrace her needs. Without her, Elanor wouldn't have done half the fun things she'd done in her life prior to Laurë's arrival. She owed her friend the truth.
"No, I wouldn't say no."
The nurse offered a serious nod, then yawned so badly that her jaw cracked.
"Damn, I need some sleep," she concluded, gathering her coat to leave the café. If Myriam seemed drained, Elanor felt like she'd just retreated from a battlefield.
"Perhaps you should enjoy autumn break to go somewhere ?" the nurse suggested, suppressing another massive yawn as they walked.
"Well, we're kinda stuck," Elanor shrugged, wondering if Laurë would want to explore the world. "I don't dare applying for papers, what if they are still looking for him ?"
They. The government that nearly took him away. Sometimes, her nightmares were populated with shadow men, darkness that swallowed Laurë's light with horrible experiments.
"I have not seen hair nor hide of them," Myriam murmured by her side. "But I've heard of those guys. There was a patient once in London with strange blood results, they never found him again."
A shiver ran down Elanor's spine, and she rubbed her hands to keep the blood flowing. "You nurses sure are the front line."
"Yeah. And there was this time the firefighters found a beast, and those guys came and... whoop, the wounded were whisked away, and the beast sealed. All reports under the rug, it was as if it never happened."
Aghast, Elanor wondered if those creatures came from Laurë's world as well.
"A beast, really?"
"Yeah, the firefighters said something monstrous, really, slick and dark and ugly. Completely deformed. But you know, rumours."
The young woman frowned, disturbed by the news. She would have to speak to Laurë; perhaps those beasts were the enemies he spoke about. And perhaps, then, it meant there was a portal somewhere. Would the other men that crossed through be like him ? Elves ? The news brought as much hope as anguish; could a Balrog ever cross ? Was the breach becoming stronger ? Could Morgoth the Black Enemy, take over this world as well ? No, they had an army, bombs and much more firepower than elves could ever dream to have. Right ?
"Do you think there are others like him ?"
Myriam seemed to awaken at the idea, eyes sparkling with mischief as she fetched her car keys. "If I see one, I'll keep him this time. Not to say I'm jealous but damn, yours definitely looks yummy."
Elanor addressed her friend one of Laurë's eyebrow lifting signature. It did not faze Myriam one bit, a total failure. Perhaps she missed the charisma, or the build, to make it effective.
"Does he hang around shirtless ?" the nurse whispered, half-drunk from sleep.
Another eyebrow joined the first one.
"No. He's very private."
A set of old-fashioned thrills greeted Elanor's ears as Myriam unlocked her car.
"Then we're circling back to the only solution," she drawled, sashaying to the vehicle dramatically. "Put him in your bed, or you'll never see him shirtless."
"Myriam," Elanor growled, cheeks growing hot at the idea of intimacy with the man – er, ellon – of her dreams. Never before had she wondered what it would feel like to touch someone intimately… but when Laurë was near, her body thrummed with anticipation. An unknown and uncontrolled sensation that left her bereft.
Fortunately, the nurse was too busy fastening her seatbelt to observe the effects of her suggestion on her so-called asexual friend.
"Well, I have seen him nearly bare," Myriam eventually shot through the window. "And believe me, even hurt, that was one hell of a body. Bye for now ! And think about what I said, life it too short ! Buffy it out, carpe diem !"
Elanor laughed at the Buffy reference – a show they had both enjoyed at the time.
Carpe diem. Right ?