Between Two Worlds....(Private: Calairiel & Nimavel)

[Calairiel Mynendil Gil'dae]

Third Cycle of Melora, Spring, Era XIV pf.

Calairiel walked along the beach, truly amazed at the difference in splendor between this and her beloved woods in Syl’rosya. She missed the children but Nimavel and herself had needed some time away from the pressures of the Combine and life in general.

They had needed time to themselves.

Nimavel had been busy as of late…too busy if you asked his wife but he normally didn’t. She just accepted that it was the way things were. Calairiel had known what she was getting into marrying him so she couldn’t fault him for her concerns.

Perhaps she was just worried that the next time he left..would be the last time she saw him?

For everything he was…as skilled as he was…it was the unexpected that usually managed to do one in. She trusted him to be careful but there was so much that could go wrong.

Sighing softly, she lifted her head and allowed the cool breezes to calm her concerns. They were supposed to be spending time together…just them. She didn’t need to be worrying him that something was wrong. They got too little time together as it was. That would just be wasting time and she wasn’t into that sort of thing.

Time was precious.

[Nimavel Mynendil]

The elf lord’s ebony tresses levitated lazily behind him as the morning breeze batted against his angular features. Ignoring the flurry of black wisps that occasionally flapped about his lavender eyes, Nimavel Mynendil spared a rare tender glance to the woman beside him, his wife.

He and Calairiel had been married for several months now, but despite the normal termination of heightened emotions in the aftermath of such a union, the Syl’rosyan noble admitted that he loved the woman more than ever before. Such tenderheartedness was rare in the likes of Elfhame’s prestigious assassin, but this irregularity of character was reserved for Calairiel alone –well, and their several adopted children.

“There’s too much sunlight...”

The elf complained in a manner not so atypical of his pessimistic personality. Straining to stare ahead as a result of the glaring sunlight, the Heru Mynendil extended a callus-flecked hand to grasp Calairiel’s.

Upon discerning his complaint, his visage softened apologetically as he looked to his wife again. If anything, Nimavel had attempted a routine of changes to acclimate himself to a life of marriage. For one, he had learned to be more conscious of what he said around dear Calairiel, though even when he did not he usually followed his statement with a lament of sorts.

This was one such case.

“But good sunlight, at least.”

He immediately corrected himself, smirking awkwardly as he embarrassedly looked away to the coastal waters splashing against the shore.

“Tell me, Dae’amin, where exactly are we going?”

[Calairiel Mynendil Gil'dae]

Grinning softly at her husband, she took his hand in hers and squeezed it softly. Turning around to block his path, her lips found their way to his, giving him a quick kiss.

“That, my love, is the beauty of today. We are going absolutely nowhere. We have no place to be and nothing to do…and I get to spend it all with you.”

Giving him another soft kiss, she slipped her arms up around his neck and gave him a gentle look.

“You’ve been working so much lately that I hardly get to see you…and the children miss you, although I doubt I have to say anything in regards to Saerwen as he reminds you every time you come home how much he adores you. They all do…but that reminds me….I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

Laying her head on his shoulder, she gave his neck a kiss and continued.

“I think the part of the children should have the Gil’dae surname…and part Mynendil…so that both our Houses will grow and flourish. Saerwen I believe is a prime candidate to receive your name and be heir to Mynendil, but I wanted to know your thoughts.”

Calairiel knew her husband well and knew his tendencies to shy away from public displays of affection. She respected those wishes in public but there on an abandoned beach with no one around, she was rather certain he wouldn’t mind as they discussed their future.

[Nimavel Mynendil]

Nimavel’s hands, surprisingly ungloved this day, fell to Calairiel’s hips as she nuzzled closely against him, a gesture that the elfin lord had become quite acquainted with as of late. Although public displays of physical affection were not something that he ordinarily dabbled in, ever since Calairiel had become his wife, he had accounted for exceptions in his behavior.

He brushed a kiss softly against her lips in reply.

“That boy is something else…”

The elf said, sighing deeply as he considered his latest interaction with the overly clingy boy. Obviously the Heru Mynendil adored the lavender-eyed child, but a part of him wondered if Saerwen was beginning to rub off on him –emotionally, that is. Nimavel had already become conscious of the gradual change that he was undergoing, and although it was not something that he disliked, he was nevertheless quite aware of its occurrence.

What would it ultimately lead to, though?

“And now that I think about it, it has been much too long since you and I have been able to get away.”

A shadow of a grin appeared along the edges of the elf’s lips as he extended his arms further around Calairiel’s waist, locking his hands and drawing her nearer to him. It was not until her voice adopted a very ‘Calairiel-like’ tone did he begin to understand that something weighed upon her mind.

Whenever she spoke like this there was usually something that she had been thinking about for some time.

“I am not so sure if that is the wisest idea, Dae’amin…”

The assassin’s words trailed off as he pensively steered his gaze to the crashing waves along the shore. His thoughts were evidently consumed by deep considerations concerning the content of Calairiel’s raised suggestion, and it was not until seconds later that he looked back down to her.

“I love the children, but I do wonder if any of them were ever meant to live a life like mine. You know my family, Calairiel, and the fate of those assimilated into it. Would it be fair to force them into a life not of their own choosing?”

Shrugging his slender shoulders, the elf waited for his beloved’s response, always aware that she had ways of providing insight that he oftentimes overlooked.

[Calairiel Mynendil Gil'dae]

Calairiel –loved- her husband. She loved him with a passion unknown to most others. He meant the world to her and family was everything. She hadn’t meant to bring down the conversation speaking of such serious things but sometimes she felt as though they had to take care of family business whenever or wherever they could considering the time they spent apart.

And unknown to Nimavel at that moment, he had a big surprise coming…but the right moment hadn’t come yet.

Returning the affectionate embrace eagerly, she listened to his comments and nodded her head, understanding where he was coming from. The beauty of their relationship is that they could disagree about something and quickly manage to find common ground. They worked –together- to find solutions, which sometimes meant compromise on both their parts.

"I understand what you are saying, a’maelamin…but Mynendil isn’t –always- destined to be as it has been in the past. You are the last of the line at this point and it is very conceivable that the House will die once you are gone. Our children ensure that what we’ve worked for won’t die after we move one from this place. Saerwen could perhaps bring something new to House Mynendil that doesn’t lock it into a life of servitude. Who knows…perhaps that change will come with you in time? I ask you just to consider the possibilities and know that I will understand and respect whatever choice you make…however, this conversation is not why we are here."

Grinning a bit, she leaned over and kissed him gently on the neck. Warning bells should have had Nimavel on high alert at that point for while his wife was affectionate, the combination of circumstances would tell him that –something- was going on.

Kissing his lips softly, she gave him one of her brilliant smiles and broke the news.

"I’m pregnant, a’maelamin. We are going to have a baby."

She held him close, waiting to see how he would react….and waiting to see if she’d have to catch him should he feel the need to faint.

[Nimavel Mynendil]

It had never occurred to the infamous Heru Mynendil that Kard’en’iMynendil was not necessarily fated to continue as it had for countless generations. The Mynendils boasted a long-standing history of tradition, dating back to the first pioneers who had settled with Prince Moonstone centuries ago. Since the dawn of their records they had always been a family destined to serve in the shadows; they had known no other way of existence.

Was that about to change?

Holding the slender Calairiel delicately in his arms, the only time that Nimavel was ever gentle, the elf lord leaned down to brush her against the lips, teasing her by withholding a deeper kiss. Few would have recognized the tender Heru with his wife; some would even have gone so far as to claim that he was an entirely different person around her. Perhaps this was so, but at least he was real whenever he was with her.

“I hope that you are right, Calairiel. However, I do cringe at the thought of young Saerwen finding his way around Hillwillow. The boy would probably tumble down the stairs before he developed a knack for our…arts.”

The mere thought brought a smug grin to the elf lord’s lips. Unlike the other regal homes in Silrosia, Hillwillow Manor was drowned in the darkness. Light was a commodity in the lightless mansion, and this was particularly because none of House Mynendil required it –it was also another reason why the Mynendils rarely entertained guests.

Sighing deeply as he considered Calairiel’s suggestion, Nimavel draped an arm around his beloved’s waist and drew her nearer. He did blink, though, when his wife nuzzled against his neck –a telltale display of affection that was generally more connotative of news to come. And there was that smile of hers, one that the elf lord knew all too well.

“Pregnant…?”

As expected, the elf lord’s brilliant violet eyes were devoid of any emotion. His feelings, however, were sublimated through his fingers which seemed to instinctively tense against Calairiel’s hips.

“Pregnant?”

He asked again, tilting his head slightly to the side as if confused by the definition of the word.

“When? How?”

[Calairiel Mynendil Gil'dae]

Calairiel couldn’t help but laugh softly as Nimavel showed surprise at her announcement. No…it was more then surprise…disbelief. Whatever it was classified as, it was endearing and adorable: two things very, very rarely associated with her husband. The moment was theirs however so as she cuddled close to him, she tried to explain things in simple terms.

“Well, I would imagine it happened one of those nights were we stayed up all night…probably keeping the rest of the Cheb up as well. Please don’t make me tell the story of the birds and the bees. We seemed to have figured out the specifics rather well on our own and this is just the end result. If you’d like, I –could- go into more detail about the how but somehow I think you’ll figure it out.”

Giggling, she nuzzled closer to him, allowing time for his mind to process the new information. Part of her was excited…so excited. She had wanted a baby and while elves usually had problems conceiving, they seemed to figure out and were being blessed. The other part of her felt horrid at always being a point of change in her husband’s life. Love..marriage…children….his life was a mere shadow of what it had been only a few eras ago.

She just hoped it wasn’t too much for him to take.

[Nimavel Mynendil]

A deep flush invaded the elf lord’s pale cheeks as Calairiel ‘explained’ her conception, something that was nearly as foreign to the Heru Mynendil as knitting or basket weaving.

His face reddened even more in embarrassment as he considered those ‘late’ evenings that he had spent with Calairiel. Had they really kept the cheb awake at night? As he cuddled closer to his beloved, the elf swallowed nervously. Even more importantly, had they really been that loud? Nimavel smirked. He was a quiet person by nature; perhaps that quietness didn’t carry over into all aspects of his life.

Oh well. As long as the children had not heard anything.

“No, no details are necessary.”

The elf lord ashamedly said, and as he did so he graced Calairiel’s forehead with a tender kiss. Flapping out the folds of his cloak and extending them around his wife’s shoulders, Nimavel sighed deeply as his lavender eyes drifted keenly to the skyline.

So he was to have his own child…

A multitude of thoughts competed for the elf lord’s attention as he swayed beside his dear wife. Dread. Excitement. Concern.

He had never imagined that he would be father.

Looking downwards to Calairiel, though, erased any reservations in the assassin’s mind. If there was one person in the world whom he could have chosen to bear his children, it would always have been her.

No one else, ever.

“A baby in the family… that’s going to be six now.”

The assassin blankly said. His expression, for one of the few times in his life, seemed conquered by helplessness.

He had a feeling that sleep was going to become something of a rare luxury soon enough.

[Calairiel Mynendil Gil'dae]

Calairiel snuggled beside her husband, knowing something of the fears going through his mind. She knew him…better then anyone on the face of Telath. He had anticipated spending his life alone…search through the shadows for whatever alluded him. Now, he was a husband and adoptive father…and soon to be father to his own child.

Turning her head and kissing his neck softly, she smiled and nuzzled closer to him.

"Fear not. It will be quite some time before the baby arrives. We will have time to adjust to the changes…far more time then we had to adjust to the other five…and I think we did rather well with them."

It was true. All the children they had adopted were flourishing under the protection and love of their home. It was fair to assume that their own child would have no less. Calairiel knew that Nimavel did not think himself a fit father…but she knew better. He was…amazing….with the children..especially Saerwen. The toddler adored the older elf and demanded his attentions when Nimavel was present in the Cheb. ‘Business’ did tend to take him away a lot but when he was there, he was -there-. He didn’t hide from his duties as husband and father…and Cala loved him for it.

He was the rock in her life…and she couldn’t have thought of anyone better suited to be the father of her child. Their love had brought them through some of the most interesting of situations…

They would make it through this…and be all the better for it.

Smiling again at him, she read his face and nuzzled her nose against his cheek, whispering.

“You worry too much, love.”

[Nimavel Mynendil]

With lithe Calairiel wrapped in his arms, the Heru Mynendil breathed a little easier. It was true that he had never imagined himself as an adoptive father, but that moment had come anyway. And he had never believed that he would be a true father either, but it was imminent nonetheless. The assassin’s life was changing, albeit expectedly, and he was in for a most wild ride.

Running his slender digits through her beautiful silver hair, the assassin rested his right hand at Calairiel’s waist and the other upon her hip. He treasured moments like these, those rare occasions in which his emotions were oftentimes sublimated through his actions, and Calairiel was the sole recipient of them.

She would always be.

“The children will be excited…”

Nimavel said softly, brushing a light kiss across Calairiel’s lips. Resting his forehead against hers, the assassin’s pointed nose touched hers gently.

“And we have much to do before the baby arrives…”

A trace of a smile appeared upon the elf lord’s face, though it was only short-lived as was customary. Aside the obvious meaning behind the statement, there was more to it than Nimavel’s mundane choice of words conveyed. The Conclave of Shadows had not yet expanded to its pinnacle of influence, and there was indeed much work to be done, cities to be controlled, and enemies to be felled.

In time, though. For now the assassin would earnestly relish in the prospective joy to come. He had Calairiel, and she, along with the children, were all that mattered in the elf lord’s life. Business could wait for now, and even if it couldn’t, it could be carried on by those who Nimavel had come to trust as his right hand elves.

“I worry for Alassiel…”

Nimavel later said, pointedly meeting Calairiel’s gaze.

[Calairiel Mynendil Gil'dae]

Wrapped up in her husband’s arms…there was no place she would have rather been. True, they both had lives and responsibilities but the time they allowed themselves to connect as husband and wife was so small that she wanted to cherish every moment of it…especially in light of the news of their pregnancy.

She tilted her head to the side gently as he mentioned being concerned about Alassiel, their eldest adopted daughter, not sure what he meant.

“And why is that, love? “

Nimavel had a different way of thinking about things, which sometimes allowed him to see a perspective that Calairiel did not. It was part of the reason they meshed so well together. They were different sides of the same soul…better together.

While she was interested to know his thoughts, she was in her own perfect world. She had her husband…a beach…time alone…what more could she ask for?

[Nimavel Mynendil]

Looking down at Calairiel, the concern in her husband’s lavender eyes was unmistakable –for her at least. Although Nimavel generally masked his emotions behind a façade of apathy, his sentiments were occasionally projected through his piercing eyes. One merely needed to know how to interpret each respective gaze. Calairiel did.

“She will be jealous.”

Nimavel explained, sighing as he rested both hands upon his wife’s slender shoulders. As much as he cared for their children, he cared far more for Calairiel and the indissoluble bond that they shared. But what emotional pains would afflict her as a result of a potential interfamilial conflict?

Alassiel could be difficult at times, and children her age sometimes needed more attention than ones even as young as Saerwen or Caladwen.

Waiting for his love to comment, he draped an arm across her shoulders and continued to walk with her along the beach. The touch of the waves against the sandy shore momentarily riveted his attention, and his eyes, darkening somewhat, looked southward. It was a beautiful day. He hoped that it would stay that way.

[Calairiel Mynendil Gil'dae]

Nimavel worried about a great many things…perhaps as his profession dictated. Calairiel had also noticed that her husband tended to be a perfectionist in many things. Marrying the young Gil’dae had shaken his life to the core, but he had taken everything in stride….all for love.

And she loved him even more for that.

His concern for their eldest adopted daughter was mostly valid. However, the young Gil’dae had a plan already in motion to combat the force that was Alassiel.

“ Perhaps, but we have much time to prepare for the birth and I think that if we make special pains to include her as much as possible in the preparation, she will be more comfortable with the baby’s arrival. How do you feel about that?”

Regardless of anything or anyone, Calairiel was devoted to her family and her husband. There was no silly guessing of emotions or odd feelings. They knew where they stood with each other and that was final. They trusted each other beyond all others…but most importantly, they valued each other’s opinions. They truly were partners in all things…especially family matters.

Her lips gently brushed against his nose, smiling softly at him. It –was- a beautiful day…most importantly because she got to spend it alone with the love of her life.

[Nimavel Mynendil]

“She would like that.”

The elf lord agreed. Despite the impenetrable psyche that the assassin feigned, his thoughtfulness was oftentimes perceptible through his words, words that, while spoken half-heartedly, nevertheless communicated something deep about the feelings he buried inside. Like Ly’sarion, Nimavel’s father, the assassin would never convey his love for any of his children –not verbally at least. But he would do so through his devotion, dedication, and actions.

They would understand one brightening.

“There is one other thing.”

Nimavel cryptically began, returning Calairiel’s kiss with one of his own while he continued to cradle her in his grasp. His fingers fell delicately upon her rounded hip, and his other hand grazed her smooth backside.

“I have…business to attend to next season and I won’t likely be home very often, but I should be returned by Ioannes.”

He purposely avoided looking at her then. He knew that his absence was sometimes hard on his beloved wife. She was wonderful for accepting his demanding lifestyle, but even a woman of Calairiel’s fortitude could know sorrow and loneliness at times. Nimavel too, as much as he hated to admit it, was equally depressed whenever he was away from the Arwen Gil’dae, but that was an unfortunate reality that he knew that they both had to accept.

"Have you plans for summer? The weather will be much warmer by then..."

[Calairiel Mynendil Gil'dae]

Nimavel worked a lot…something Calairiel had grown accustomed to over the eras. Most often, he did not speak of his work for fear of making her more of a target for his enemies then she already was. -Most- times, she didn’t really want to know anyways.

As long as he was attentive to issues of his safety….and he always was.

Smiling softly, she kissed his neck gently and nodded her head.

“I imagined that you would be leaving again soon. I have my own errands to run as well. I need to make a quick trip to Nexus Prime and see about setting up a tea shop there. Other then that, the season will find me in Syl’rosya. Because of the pregnancy, I believe my best course of action is to stay close to home and attend to matters important to the city…and our family. Should you need me, however, you’ll know where to find me. I’d rather not have to come rescue you anytime soon.”

A mischievous grin slipped over her lips as she spoke again.

“And besides, you owe me a present. Something pretty. I’m sure you’ll be able to find something suitable in your travels.”