Words Unspoken

Rain was pouring from the sky like an endless stream and the farther they travelled southwards, the cooler the weather got. They were at a roadside tavern. With her undying patience and friendly but determined behaviour, Maeve had managed to convince the innkeeper to offer them a real room. With a real bed. And to a reasonable prize. 
Their bundles were now laying neatly re-packed in the corner between the bed and a small table. Maeve had taken the hairpins and large clasp out of her neatly braided up-do and was combing her locks with her fingers, humming a song they had heard earlier this day while restocking their supplies on the market and selling some potions to gather coin on their own. 
He was endlessly tired from the long walk and from carrying all of their belongings and so much more on his shoulders. It still seemed like the strangest of all events that this remarkable woman chose to stay with him, even though this made her even more of an outcast - in the view of certain parties, at least. Ilargian shook his head as if he wanted to shake off this thought as well. He scratched the scar over his mouth and watched her for a while, trying to enjoy their rather comfortable lodgings as much as she seemed to do.
Maeve stopped humming her song and looked over her shoulder, giving him one of the rare, beaming smiles that she seemed to have reserved only for him. Both hands still half entangled in the curls of her long brown hair that was flowing down her shoulders, she playfully frowned and nudged her chin into his direction.

“You’re peculiarly silent this evening. No snarky remarks about the quality of the minstrel’s voice or the taste of the stew, which were both not bad if you ask me… it makes me wonder if you’ve gotten ill on our way down here.”

Her tone was supposed to be mocking, in a friendly way, but he noticed the honest concern in her voice and how the small vertical line between her brows, the one that was not painted with black ink under her skin, did not disappear.

He managed to curl up the corners of his mouth in a very tired smile and for a few breaths, their eyes locked. Then, he reached out with one hand, to invite her to sit down next to him on the mattress.

“I’m just tired and my back aches a little. I’m not that young anymore and we’ve covered quite a distance today. That’s all. No need to worry, da’len.”

She smiled again, obviously relieved and took his hand. When she seated herself on the narrow bed, she pulled her knees to her body and slipped her bare feet under the rim of her long blue skirt. In the same movement, she rested her head against his shoulder. Ilargian turned his head to give her a small kiss on the forehead, their hands still locked between them. For a moment he stared at their entwined fingers. Her bronze skin with the faint red marks crossing the back of her hand like a fine web, his dark long fingers holding hers like the most precious and delicate thing in this world. He still could not find words to describe how much he loved this woman. Just feeling her presence by his side made him feel at ease and caressed his soul like one of the songs of old the hahren had taught him.

“Let’s go to sleep”, he whispered against her hair, his voice even darker than usual, already a little slurred by his sleepiness.

Maeve returned the kiss, on the bright blue lines on his shoulder. She shifted her legs to move behind the tall elf, brushing the rough fabric of his sleeveless shirt lightly with her fingers while doing so.

“You say your back hurts? Well, I might know how to change that. You’d just have to take off your shirt.”

She didn’t know whether it was due to her being rather exhausted from the day’s long march herself, but her voice was a little hoarse itself and that last sentence sounded far more seductive than she intended. Ilargian stiffened under her touch and lightly shook his head.

“Do you… I don’t know what you’re up to, but I am going to fall asleep every minute.”

He rubbed his face with one hand, the other unconsciously moving to his collar anyway. Maeve chuckled and shortly embraced him from behind, pressing another kiss to his shoulder.

“Maker’s Breath! That’s not what I was talking about, you... You say your back aches. You’ve carried both our bundles today. I just want to relieve the pain by giving you a massage.”

“Oh”, Ilargian’s remark sounded more surprised than anything and he could feel her chuckling again, her soft body lightly pressing against his back. He took in a deep breath and enjoyed the warmth that emerged from his lover for a moment, before he obediently grabbed the collar of his shirt with both hands and pulled it over his head.

Maeve shifted again, assuming a more comfortable position and moved her wonderful, gentle hands to begin rubbing his back.

It didn’t take much time and the proficient touch of her magical hands and the pain was gone.

Maeve had removed her shirt and skirt as well and with nothing than her white shift that contrasted so much with her bronzed body, she was resting against the large pillow, already sleeping.

Ilargian had rested his head against her shoulder and breathed in the sweet scent of her skin. He had placed one arm over her waist and the other under her shoulder, fingers entangled in her long curls. They often lay in an embrace like this when they fell asleep, might it be a bed like tonight or, much more common for the travellers, one of their coats under a tree or between rocks that kept the wind and rain away a little.

Before she fell asleep, she was lightly caressing his long pointy ears with her thumb, a habit she was probably not even aware of. Now, her hand had slid to the curve of his neck where it lay without pressure. With the other, she was holding his arm and the blanket she had pulled up to his shoulders moments before her mind drifted into the Fade.

One last time this evening, Ilargian kissed her lightly and he silently moved his lips. “I love you, vhenan.”