Snippets and Stories: (WtI) The Bridesmaid

Shyloris smiled at the dark lens. It whirred and shuttered, momentarily pinging, to let them know the picture had been taken.

To her right, Silas relaxed, and wandered off towards the refreshment table. Neiro though, was already talking excitedly, eager for the picture.

It was a small gathering, the few of them, Esti, Ken, Silas, Neiro, Cheshire, Lokius, and of course herself, would spend the day enjoying Thanksgiving, together as it should be.

A numbered few though they were, were far too many for her. It had been a long Time since she had partook of anything festivities, or any other social event for that matter.

Being Timelocked made it difficult at Times to enjoy such, and it wouldn't do to be such a downer.

Now though the warm hues that flickered in the room, the enticing aroma that drifted up from the table, the ones whom she was close to, so close to her, it reminded her of a heart-twisting longing that ached fierce.

How many years had it been?

Though it had been a ritual carnival held early-Spring to usher in the lengthening reign of sun, it was nonetheless the same in basis.

A Time of togetherness, a festival to celebrate their success through Winter, and their separate ways.

Neiro had been there by her side, and they laughed and talked, when he came.

A tall man of hair so light a blue, its icy shade appeared nearly white. But the royal blue of his eyes held none of Winter's chill, and she had never the pleasure of beholding such unconditional fondness.

His warmth tangible in his inflection, an aloof and understanding individual who held with open admiration his approval. The passionate manner in which he spoke, but aggressive, no, overflowing as it was with excitement and admiration.

He begged her to regale them with her tales of travel, and she at last did at length, unable to decline his coaxing nor face his disappointment. It was difficult to deny such eyes as his that implored her so warmly. They talked late into the night for he drank in every word, as a man parched, listening so intently, enraptured by each story and more. The end of one brought his prompting for another. Each Time she tried to turn him down, but it was so difficult to see him disappointed. Until at last her friend ushered them off laughing.

"Until next Time my friend! You will be here, will you not?"

She had nodded shyly, for such intensity was too much for her.

His words dusted her cheeks with a warmth she hadn't felt before.

She had been young then. Hadn't known any better, and he was the first her Heart would impart.

There were regular gatherings in that strange land hence he hailed from. When he came by again the next moon,  she had shied at his approach. Slipping away to mingle, hidden in the crowd.

It was no use. For though, by her leave was his presence announced, as it oft was, he sought her out and they wound up together, talking as always and his eyes beheld her so fondly with such open admiration.

The same friend that made it possible for her to enter such a fortress urged her to talk to him. He was a lord, but one who knew kindness. Shyloris though, knew that already. She had fought alongside him in battle, and had seen the fire, the vigor, the warmth in him. 

Thinking her shy or wary, she remained adamant that he held her in high regard her, and reassured her he would not scorn her. Any misstep he would dismiss, for he wasn't quite like others of blue blood. She just nodded back, too tentative to reveal the full nature of her meekness in his presence and aversion of his company.

The fair Raven showed her around, for she had been the one that Shyloris had helped in the forest. A slip and fall had sprung her ankle, and having been passing by, she bandaged and casted the injury, and wary of prowling beasts, had chosen to help her back to the citadel. 

As per their custom, it was to be repaid in kind. Besmirching such duty was to do the same of one's honor. But it wasn't duty that kept her Raven friend there, or brought her to urge the wanderer to join in the festivities. 

It was only through her that a stranger such as herself was permitted entry, and she was ever thankful for the fair lady.

It wouldn't hurt, but despite knowing her insistence true, could not bring herself to follow through.

It was easy to talk the talk, but to actually do so, she would not consider such just then.

Shyloris shook her head, flustered at their conversational topic.

It was then she felt eyes upon them, and looked up to catch the warm, appreciative gaze of the same man. He smiled at the two of them before being pulled back into whatever his conversational partner was discussing.

After the evening gathering he had approached her, sought her out before she could slip away.

To walk her home, he had said.

It wasn't unusual, he had done so several Times before, though that had been moons ago when she was still new to the town, and him worried that she was unaccustomed to the sinuous loops and turns.

And they spoke of the small things, and he told her of his high regard for her to have traveled so far, and seen so much.

But her mind was not with her at the moment, for her arm was in his, and his voice far too sweet.

Surely, they both felt the same.

But she had to be certain.

Shyloris paused and he followed suit, concern evident in his handsome features.

She reassured him nothing was wrong, and asked him if he sought her out for another matter.

He had chuckled then, and spoke of his admiration for her keen observation. It must've come from being such a well-versed traveler, her adventures keeping her sharp, or so he romanticized of the vagabond.

She denied it. It was nothing of the like and he thought too highly of her.

It was him who was the attentive one, so gentle yet passionate. He was so charismatic, and of such unconditional care. He readily fought for, and defended friends, loyal, and sweet. This she kept to herself.

She shook her head to clear it of such thoughts, to peer up at the rich blue of his eyes.

After another moment of stalling, he admitted to having wanted to talk about another matter, though he fervently insisted that his sincerity pursuing her that night for her stories were not false in any way.

And then he asked of her Raven friend.

She smiled, and told him what her fair lady friend had a penchant for. The lush fragrance of cinnamon, her love of blackberries, how she loved wearing her hair so--that a fine netted pin to adorn her hair would be a wonderful gift, particularly so, she hinted, the one by the pier, for she loved gazing at the black ebony so lacquered and embellished with accents of silver set with jade. 

"Splendid!" He had cried, overjoyed at her approval and fine advice. He wanted her opinion he had said, for her experience was wide and varied, and she was so wonderfully rich in depth.

She had been flattered. He truly did think too highly of her, and she thanked him shyly. Bidding her to her nightly rest, they parted ways.

When he knelt for the Raven lady, she was overjoyed, and they were quite the match.

She was there when they forged their Hearts together, and she watched from the audience, smiling and crying out as they did when the couple sealed their bond.

Not long after, news of the Lily's blooming reached her through Neiro, and she left the citadel.

Her last view still of the one who saw her off. Frosty hair and wintry eyes that held not the harsh biting chill of Winter, but something that warmed her Heart more than any sunlight ever would. For no beam could emanate such warmth, or drink so deeply of her Heart as to bathe it in the same warmth as he did.

It was the first Time she loved.

And it would be the last Time.

For even now, unbeknownst to him, he still carried with him, her heart.

And the endless blue of his eyes, still paradoxically filled with Winter's immeasurable warmth. To show her that even in the barren snow-scape, there was immeasurable warmth to be found, and so much of it.