Private Tales The Lost Princess and The Exiled Prince

[Maeve]

It must have grown cold at some point in the night for Maeve had migrated from her position on the far edge of the bed to press up against the warmth Arun was giving off. The light from the dawn didn't seem to bother her at all, her body was still slack and heavy as she drifted still in a deep sleep. Her red hair was a tangled mess that lay across her face. At some point she had stolen one of his arms to use as a glorified pillow and her back was pressed flush against his side.

The only noises were a soft snore every now and then and occasionally a murmur of some word in her native tongue or other.

 

[Arun]

Arun felt the daze of sleep over his mind. It had been long since he'd slept, longer still since he had actually slept two nights in a row. His head spun slightly as she felt something warm against his side, a pressure on his arm.

Slowly he frowned, eyes not quite opening as he moved his hand to try and get some feeling back into the pin pricked skin. His hand tapped the bed a few times, adjusting, and then landing on something soft. His thumb stroked over it for a moment in confusion, and then his eyes popped open.

Head jerked to the side, his nose immediately falling into Maeve's hair.

It tickled through his nostrils, the smell of fresh wild-flowers strangely drifting from her as he frowned. "Oh."

That was the only sound Arun could think to make, unsure of what to make of the current situation. Two days before she had practically thrown herself out the window at the sight of him, and now this?

Humans were strange little creatures.

Though he couldn't deny the joy he felt from the touch of her skin.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve gave a soft sigh some hours later and rolled over slowly. A mild frown creased her forehead as she registered her cheek was no longer on a pillow but something harder and more muscled. It broke through the fog of sleep that still clouded her mind enough to make her realise the sun was hitting her skin and warming it considerably. What time was it, or even what day was it? Her eyelids were heavy with sleep as she tried to open them. A brief flutter and she was vaguely aware that Anur was much closer than he had been when she had fallen asleep. Her eyes shut, thinking no more of it until slowly her brain managed to piece together why the pillow she was laying on didn't feel like a pillow.

Her eyes snapped open a second later and she pulled back a little, his arm still around her. Her cheeks burned.

"S-sorry."

 

[Arun]

She would feel his arm tighten somewhat, almost as though he was going to try and keep her in place for a few seconds before he decided to let her move away just a little bit.

"It's okay." It would have been a lie to say Arun hadn't been thinking about just how to respond to this little flit of intimacy. Perhaps for her people this sort of thing was common, but among Elves one simply did not cuddle.

Arun had decided this was probably not the case for humanity, mostly because...well from what he had gleaned his own people were rather uptight.

"I..." He breathed. "Did not mind."

He felt a little colder with her not pressed up against him.

 

[Maeve]

"Oh... okay..." she hesitated a moment. The room was cold from the storm and it seemed even colder now she had moved away from him. Mae watched his expression carefully as she lowered herself back down into the folds of his arm and nestled her cheek against his chest. Her own heart was hammering in her chest but at least she was warm again.

"I wasn't sure if elves did this..." this meaning cuddling. After what he had said about his people being so stoic about emotions and not understanding love she had thought something like this would have been completely foreign to him and she didn't want to make him uncomfortable. For Maeve, it felt like a breakthrough. Her skin didn't crawl when it touched him and though she was tense she didn't feel the need to move away.

 

[Arun]

"They do not." He said matter of fact, his fingers tightening for a brief moment behind the small of her back.

Eyes closed as he took in a breath, her cheek pressing against his chest and the warmth of her curling into his side. There was a calm to it, a certain level of...serenity that he couldn't have described it he wanted to.

After a few seconds she would feel his fingers brush over her spine. It was a soft caressing touch, one that might have been mistaken for an accident.

"But." Arun said quietly. "Perhaps our way is not the best."

As she pressed against him the warmth made him sure it was not.

 

[Maeve]

For the first time in months someone's touch other than her own actually soothed her. Slowly her body relaxed once more into him and became heavier as she did so. Her eyes drifted such and she simply gave a big sigh as the tension left her. She hadn't actually realised how much she had craved this, needed a touch that was gentle and not violent. It felt like she had been missing a part of something vital which she supposed she had been really. There had always been touch in her life; a simple hug, a caress on the cheek, the ruffle of hair.

"It's... very natural with humans. To touch, I mean. Hugs, a pat on the back. I think the gestures are more important than words at times," which, she realised, went some way to explaining why the torture had messed her up quite as much as it had mentally. They had taken and twisted something that until then had been nothing but a source of happiness.

 

[Arun]

His fingers slowly stroked over her skin. "It is not so with my people. I do not believe my father has ever embrace me, nor my siblings."

A frown briefly flickered across his features.

"My mother was different, I suppose." She had always had affection for her children, and would show it often. Small touches to the cheek, the holding of a hand, though an embrace had been rare even from her. "Touch is a reserved thing."

As most things were he was starting to realize. Life in Saen had been comfortable, but certainly nothing like Maeve described

 

[Maeve]

Maeve couldn't help but thing that was incredibly sad. Her memories of her mother's hugs, the way her father had thrown her across his shoulders and spun her, the way she had snuggled up close with friends and watched the rain from the comfort of the stables... touch was at the centre of all of her fondest thoughts of home. She shifted a little to turn her face to look at him.

"So you've never had a hug?" her eyes searched his as she lay there, sleep still softened her features and it looked as though she might fall asleep again at any moment. "How do you tell another elf you like them or care for them if not with touch?"

 

[Arun]

"My mother hugged me." He answered softly. "Though it was rare."

Arun did not sound too sad about it, though there was an odd tinge to his tone. Perhaps regret, or something similar enough to it.

"A display of talent is how one most often woos someone." If the marriage was not arranged anyway.

"Crafting them a Necklace. Creating a Painting of them." He considered for a moment. "Poetry is common."

 

[Maeve]

Maeve studied his expression as he spoke and wondered over the idea of making something in order to tell them you loved them. She supposed elves were more talented than humans by the simple nature of the fact they lived longer and held wisdom a human would only ever gain a fraction of.

"Sometimes humans do that but it doesn't have to be... beautiful or great workmanship. A crown out of flowers, or singing around a campfire," simple and sweet. "But touch is the easiest way. A brush of hands, pushing the hair back from someone's face... they're just small little tokens."

 

[Arun]

He stopped for a few seconds, considering the touch he was offering her on the small of her back...and then slowly continued.

"I see." Arun closed his eyes, wiggling his neck for a second as if getting his head more comfortable. The idea of human connection was an interesting one. It sounded...far more intimate that he was used to.

"I was betrothed once." The words came from him as casually as could be. "A princess from Fal'Addas."

He pursed his lips. "From what I understand she was...is a great beauty. I did not ever get to meet her."

His...collapse happened before that could be arranged.

 

[Maeve]

"Do you wonder what your life would have been like if you had stayed, become king?"

Maeve had only been gone a few months but it was a thought that had hovered at the back of her mind almost constantly.

She turned her face back so that her cheek was pressed once more to his chest and after a while she rested her hand across his abdomen. She hadn't realised she still held tension in her body but returning his embrace released the final bit for her body. Her eyes closed.

"What would you have made her?"

 

[Arun]

Arun considered her words for a few seconds, lips thinning as he considered her question. Elves typically did not think of 'what ifs'. The past was the past and what had happened had happened, but most Elves did not spend entire centuries in isolation.

He had been alone, and alone had meant plenty of time to think. "I have. I do not think I would have been a particularly good King. Perhaps before the War, but certainly not after."

That was the reason he'd wanted to leave.

"Now? I would sing her something from the trees. It is a skill that even among my people are quite proud of." He considered for a second. "Before? I was not a craftsmen. I would have captured her a city."

 

[Maeve]

For what it was worth, Maeve thought he would have made a good King. Perhaps not a Great one, but not a bad one. Not from what she had seen. He seemed unsure of himself in certain things but he was laying in bed with her giving her something she desperately needed in order to heal even though it was probably unnatural for him. But she didn't say that, instead she gave a soft chuckle.

"Just one little city?" Mae tutted though she couldn't help the way her lips curved up into a smile. "My father gave my mother a flower that he had plucked from the Fae meadows, the legends said it wouldn't die even after it was plucked. She keeps it still on her nightstand and it hasn't died yet."

 

[Arun]

"A better gift than a city." He mused with a smile. Arun couldn't help but wonder what exactly he would gift someone now. The bow he was going to craft for Maeve was a practical gift, not one given in an attempt to Woo her.

Still, he wondered if that would have counted.

"My father gifted my mother with an Eagle, or rather, an egg of one so that she might bond with it." A smile flickered over her features. "They ended up despising one another."

His head shook. "Not my parents I mean, but the eagle that hatched from the egg. Thell was his name. He thought my mother haughty and prissy."

 

[Maeve]

Maeve laughed against his chest.

"It would be bad manners to gift someone with a horse in my tribe, it indicates the person could not tame their own," it was one of the biggest insults. Of course they were given as gifts to outsiders but that was because only people of the Ilcinki were able to tame the horses of the wilds. That they would use their gifts to then give that horse to an outside was actually a high mark of respect; they were prized horses.

"What happens when an Eagle doesn't like the elf he's born to? Do you just get on with working with someone who hates you or do you set them free?"

 

[Arun]

"The Eagles are not petty, they will do what they must. The Bond that is formed at the hatching is magical in nature, it can be broken but the process is painful for both parties." It was incredibly rare for an eagle and a rider not to like one another, especially considering that most of the eagles formed their personalities around their riders.

Though that was obviously not always the case.

"They are always free." Technically. "The only reason Vallya is kept is due to my 'crime'. She is my bondmate and thus..."

Arun trailed off, some sadness tinting his tone. "Thell did not like my mother, but he mourned her death like a son."

He tried to offer Maeve some insight. Even when rider and eagle disliked one another, there was still love.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve's arm slid across his stomach and then tightened, squeezing him in the best imitation of a hug she could do from this position as the sadness crept into his voice.

"That makes sense... thank you for the analogy," it was similar and yet very different to the bonds her people had with their horses. Whisper would have ridden through fire for her but it was a choice, the bond was one made over time not in any magical way.

"So are the eagles originally from around here or did they come from somewhere else?" Mae thought it would be rather beautiful to watch such creatures in the wild. She had once ridden along the plains when a bird of prey had suddenly joined her, its wing tips level with her shoulder. She had felt like they had been racing. Her mind tried to imagine something bigger but it struggled and thus she wanted to seek it out.

 

[Arun]

His hand gently splayed against the small of her back, thumb stroking over her skin as he took in a deep breath and simply let himself relax.

There was something...comforting about this. Perhaps Humans really did know more than his people had first assumed. Though perhaps it could just have been Maeve's tribe. He somewhat doubted that anyone from Vel Anir would spend their morning in bed...cuddling.

"They are from the southern reaches of the Falwood." He told her. "There is an ancient story that speaks of a Great Cataclysm."

He thought a moment. "It is said that most of their numbers were eradicated during this event and that they fled north. My ancestor met them there, and offered a partnership. They would roost in the great tree of Saen and in return they bond with us."

 

[Maeve]

North.

Liath had said their journey to 'Elbion' would take them that way, perhaps she would get a chance to see them after all. If Arun was joining them maybe he could even point them in the right direction. Surely not every one of them had left to go roost in this Saen tree? Maeve could only hope.

"Can they speak?" she tried to think of a beak moving and words coming out. "Or is it like a telepathic thing?" she had heard the stories of such magics though had never witnessed it for herself. When Arun spoke she always felt so young and naive, blind to an entire world that had existed beyond her shores. If she truly was granted a long life she would spend it travelling and not be so blind anymore.

 

[Arun]

"They do not speak." Not in the same way that any other species did anyway. As far as he knew. "Nor do they really...speak in your mind either."

For a few seconds he considered. "They have their own way of communicating. It is not difficult to learn."

At least it hadn't been for him.

"There are impressions sent out, body language..." Arun trailed off. "Most of all it's their eyes. They have a way of speaking through them more than anything else."

 

[Maeve]

"Ah," that she did understand.

"It is the same with the horses," Mae sounded a little more confident now she had her own experience to draw on to help her understand a creature her mind could barely fathom. "Other tribes think we speak to them like I am to you now but it is just about learning their ways. Every little flick or movement is a word," and it had sounded like a loud drum when she had been with Whisper.

For a moment silence hung between them like a comforting blanket and Mae found herself yawning again.

"Thank you... for letting me have this. I haven't realised how much I needed it. I know it is probably uncouth for you."

 

[Arun]

Horses were almost unheard of in Saen. Who needed a beast with four legs when you had a companion with wings?

Even in Fal'Addas horses were rare, with most Elves preferring the Great Elks of the Falwood as mounts. When she spoke through the silence Arun took a slight breath, his chest rising. "I..."

His cheeks colored, though it was just the barest hint of anything.

"Have not minded." Was all that he could offer in comment.

 

[Maeve]

From how her head was rested upon him she couldn't see his face and nor did she note any tinge of emotion in his voice so she merely gave a small yawn and nestled in closer. As long as she wasn't making him uncomfortable Maeve would focus on healing herself in a different way. Weeks of torturing and abuse hadn't just left her body broken but parts of her mind too.

"You know, you have the softest hands I think I've ever felt," she gave a soft laugh. The women worked just as hard as the men in her tribe and she knew her own hands were rough and calloused, at least more so than most.