Where: Universe B. That's all we're allowed to say. >.>
When: At some point a few days ago, before the nasty wolves ripped him a new one.
Along the water, Gladharil stands alone. She drops the robe she wears from her shoulders, her skin all but gleaming in the soft moon-light. She wades into the waters, and ducks beneath it.
Thurinion thought perhaps his eyes were still dazzled from earlier. He just caught a glimpse of something glowingly white in the moonlight, by the water. He wanders over to check, mostly to resolve that he did, in fact, see nothing. But instead, he finds a robe, and he scans his eyes across the water.
The half-sindar elf surfaces, throwing hair out of her face as water flowed down her body, clinging to every curve and beading along her skin. She looks up at the stars and smiles, twirling around in the water.
The breath catches in Thurinion's throat. He has now seen a few naked elven women, thanks to his sister, and another glimpse of one earlier in Rivendell, but this one? This one, just takes makes his eyes tear up with the amount of overwhelming emotion it invokes in him. His eyes roam her body, taking in pale, glittering skin, and every curve, and the somewhat ethereal glow she has to her. He is absolutely smitten, and he knows. He knows, that this is the elf he was staring at before, the one who sang that night, the one who helped Sidhiel. The one that moved and sang with all the grace and light of his mother. He knows he should look away, too, because this is a lady, he has caught, in a private moment. But for the life of him, he cannot bid his feet to move.
She tilts her head, then glances around, sensing she isn't alone. She catches him, her eyes meeting his and holding them steady for a long moment before embarassment takes hold and her skin flushes red. She drops to her knees in the water, covering herself, looking mortified. Yet a part of her did not mind, so much. She was used to Ithiriel looking at her - both before she lost her sight, and after, with her hands. But she'd let no one else do so, of course.
But there was something about him. Something strong and wise and bold. Guilt clenched itself in her chest, for even thinking such things!
Thurinion flushes, too. Her eyes are grey, but filled with light, lighter than Sidhiel's, and they pierce into him. He is absolutely transfixed, fighting with the guilt of continuing to stare at this obviously embarrassed lady before him. The fact that she blushes *everywhere* when she blushes is something not lost on him, and he mentally kicks himself.
He coughs, to clear his throat, and bows, holding up her robe. 'I am sorry, Lady. I should not have stared, so. It is just, that in the moonlight you glow like the stars in the heavens.'
Her mouth opens, then closes. She wants to ask him who he is to speak to her like that, but has to admit she liked it. Nay! Nay! She loves Ithiriel! Her longest and truest friend, her sister by heart, if not blood!
But the way he looks at her, the way his tunic falls over his chest. A part of her finds itself drawn to him.
'Here,' he says, gently, I am closing my eyes, and I will set this robe on this branch here where you can reach it easily from the water. That way you will not have to show me yourself again.' And he begins to do just that. He's blushing to his *eartips*
There is the sound of water gently splashing, then near silent footsteps on the green earth. Gladharil's wet hand rests momentaril on his arm, warm and gentle, yet firm. Then she twirls the robe around and pulls it closed around her. The fabric clings to her damp body, doing nothing to hide her curves and little to hide the flush of her skin.
He holds his hands out in front of him, palms open, and begins to back away. 'I am sorry.'
'You might look at me now, if you chose,' Gladharil says softly. Her voice carries across the night air like a musical note, and her hand touches his arm again, 'I am Gladharil.'
He opens his eyes to drink her in again, like a man who has never, ever, had the kind of cool refreshing water he has searched for. Her touch sends little sparks of light through him, better than Ruthi's ever did. 'Gladharil, that is a lovely name. I am Macalaure Thurinion ... you can call me either.' he bows, still blushing, himself.
'Thurinion,' She says, the name rolling off of her tongue, and sending shivers down her spine.
It sent shivers down his spine, too. 'I have seen you before, you aided my cousin. And you sang in the hall, the other night. So very beautifully, you almost put my mother to shame.'
'Your mother? She is Minuial, is she not?' Gladharil looks abashed; he's Noldor! 'Nay! I could not hope to compare to one such as her!'
'But you do compare,' Thurinion says, with a steady look. His voice is soft, gentle. He is trying to put her at ease, 'There are many creatures of light in this world, Lady. My mother is but one, and you are another.'
She flushed a deep crimson, meeting his eyes and holding them.
He doesn't look away, getting completely lost in the light that shines in those beautiful, doe grey eyes of hers. 'Even your eyes would put one of Varda's jewels to shame.'
Gladharil's eyes widen as she finds speech striken from her, yet again. Her mouth is hanging open slightly, and her eyes stay locked with his, 'And yours put the domains of Ulmo to shame.'
It's Thurinion's turn to flush crimson, the flush of color making his red-stained skin all the more ruddy. 'Nay. But I overstep my boundaries completely, for I know already that you love another,' he breathes, softly. His voice is tinged with a bit of mourning.
'I...' She tears her gaze from his, exhaling softly, 'Her name is Ithiriel. I know it is wrong, but we've known each other for a long time. We were injured, severely, and they wanted to make me sail, but I could not, because she was still here.'
She hasn't pulled away from him though.
Thurinion nods his head softly, with so much understanding in his eyes, 'I would not tear apart love, for any reason, wrong or no. And it is foolish of anyone to call something wrong that is as pure as the love you have for her. I have seen you together.'
'We are not wed,' She replies, reaching out and brushing a hand along his cheek. 'But, yes, I love her.' There's almost a mourning note to her voice, as well, 'I've loved her, perhaps, longer than you've been alive.'
Her eyes twinkle a bit.
He catches her hand in his, and brushes his lips against it, a twinkle coming up out of the depths of his eyes, for her, from the light he holds within himself. 'That is likely, my Lady, for I have not been alive long as far as our people would say.'
'I thought so. There is some youthful light in your eyes.' She starts to grin a little, almost mischevously. She's flirting, 'Or perhaps it is the way your hair falls about your face.'
'Perhaps it is your light reflecting in mine,' he grins, brightly.
She laughs, and with that sound, her name becomes all the clearer, 'Or perhaps it is the memory of my coming from the water, like some nymph of legend.'
And with that sound, he is absolutely hooked, and he knows it. Her laughter catches more light in his eyes, and he smiles, absolutely smitten. 'I must admit that was quite a sight.'
'I thought I had strayed into a dream, or that my eyes were tricking me, at first.'
She flushes red again - and the flush is visible under the damp robe - and she feels guilty over wishing Ithiriel could see her and compliment her so, 'Oh naaay...'
'It is the truth,' he says, flatly, 'You are the most gorgeous thing I have ever laid eyes upon, and we will keep in mind I live in my mother's house.' he smirks slightly.
'Thurinion!' She scolds, bashfully. 'You have not seen Ithiriel in a beam of sunlight.' She winks at him, 'Though I suspect you will be..brilliant, in the sun.'
'She is a beautiful elf, from what I have seen, and she has a fire in her, but it is not your light. Your light is different.' He looks only slightly abashed, and is still smiling at her.
'Oh? Pray tell, my lord, what makes my light different from my friend's?' She edges closer to him, her chest almost brushing against his arm.
'It burns with this crystal clarity, like my mother's. I have seen light like that in few other people, my Lady, and all of them far older even than you. It is refreshing, and I could go on describing it and comparing it to the moon, and the stars, but beyond that, it strikes up the light within myself, of the Eldar, which I rarely ever experience.' he says all this softly, leaning a bit.
Her mouth closes, then opens it, then closes it. She doesn't know what to think, or what to do, but he just wakes something in her. She says quietly, blurting out, 'Can it be possible to love two?' She clasps her hand over her mouth, blushing red.
He nods, softly, 'It is possible. But then you would have to choose, who to bond with,and how not. For me, that choice is easy, for the other I love is my sister - though obviously, not in a way I would love a wife. Still, as deeply.'
'She is my twin,' he adds, as an explanation.
She nods, looking askance, and biting her lip, 'There are things...that can be done between women, without bonding...' And she wondered what would happen if she bonded with both, or if that was even possible.
'Nay, it is a bad idea to try bonding with both,' he says softly, reading her mind. 'But I would not put you in that position. You should love who you love.' He bows, 'I am glad, to have met you this night. Your light will keep me, in the coming darkness.' And ... then he takes his leave.
She watches him go, tears falling down her cheeks.