[Gil'dae Cheb] The whimsical musings of a lonely heart...(Private)

[Calairiel Mynendil Gil'dae]

2nd Cycle of Aperitus, Spring, Era XIII pf.

Yawning softly, Calairiel gazed out over the gardens of the keep, appreciating the fact that she was once again home. It was something that she was slowly beginning to appreciate more and more as time rolled on. With her absence in Imperia…training in Zinn Sun, and her upcoming trip with Gliocia, it seemed as though her time in beloved Syl’rosya was becoming more of a novelty then anything, which was defiantly not the way she wanted it to be. Combine that with the reality that her love spent a good portion of –his- time outside of Syl’rosya as well, and it added up to a lot of time thinking about the way she wanted things to be.

And that was with Nimavel by her side.

She hated being without him. She hated being alone at night, dreaming about when they would be together again. He was currently in Nexus Prime and she desperately hoped that he would make it back home before she had to leave again.

Sighing softly, she off the balcony and into the large room that was now hers….formerly Motito’s room. It belonged to the leader of Gil’dae, which she now was. It had been redecorated to reflect the taste of the new occupant, resplendent in rich hues of burgundy and ivory, perhaps in some ways indicating the duality of light and dark. Variations on a theme. She didn’t think of it as –her- room though. It belonged to her and Nimavel., and it was very lonely without him.

Slipping off her silk robe, revealing a lithe body clad in a thin sapphire silk nightgown, she padded her way over to the large bed and snuggled down into the warmth of the blankets.

The last thing she remembered doing was offering up a prayer to Carmelya and Phedos for the quick and safe return of her love before she fell to the embrace of the Sandman.

[Nimavel Mynendil]

Nimavel Mynendil hated front doors.

Perhaps his disdain for traditional entrances spawned from his profession, or perhaps it was born from the knowledge that arriving through ordinary means would announce his presence to all within Kard’en’i Gil’dae, and most were highly cognizant of the assassin’s knack for obscurity. Nevertheless, for whatever reason, the Lord of House Mynendil treaded silently along the grasslands enveloping the estate, darting from shadow to shadow until he reached the familiar window of his beloved.

Calairiel Gil’dae…

A faint expression of nostalgia raced across the elfin lord’s pale face as he moved alongside the base of the large oak, one that he knew quite well. It was the very same that he had uncertainly lingered behind moments before he had finally followed his heart and met her within the sanctums of her private room –the second time that they had met.

Standing as he had only a season ago, Nimavel was amazed by the transformation that he had undergone within such a short period of time. He and Calairiel had met under the most unusual of circumstances, and yet here they were as lovers committed to each other for eternity.

It was certainly something that even the sagacious assassin could never have predicted.

Embarrassed that the thought of his beloved caused flecks of red to surface at his alabaster cheeks, the assassin sighed in resignation before mounting the same vines that he always used to enter through her window. He merely hoped that Anton or one of the others would not inadvertently shoot him down for accidentally mistaking him to be an intruder.

It was not long before the elf’s padded feet touched lightly upon the floorboards of Calairiel’s private chambers.

His lavender eyes relaxed as they focused upon the lithe and slender form of the Lady Gil’dae, a sight that would continue to bring peace to the assassin’s heart forever. So peaceful did Calairiel seem within reverie that the Lord of House Mynendil felt guilty by the prospect of waking her.

She had probably been waiting for him.

Nimavel had only recently returned from Nexus Prime, a trip that had proved far more tedious and agitating than he had believed possible. Nevertheless, he was grateful to be home and alongside Calairiel again. Silently and considerately, Nimavel methodically removed his boots and crawled onto the bed beside his beloved, instinctively draping an arm around her as he lay his head upon one of her many pillows.

[Calairiel Mynendil Gil'dae]

Funny how life worked. While in the grand scheme of things, they had only known each other for what could be equivalent to a heartbeat, they were already as committed to one another as a couple several eras into marriage. Calairiel knew where Nimavel’s heart was and vise versa. There was no confusion or wavering on feelings or emotions. It simply was the way things were.

And within that, they found peace.

If the Heru of Hillwillow thought he was sneaky, he had another thing coming for his love always knew when he was near. No spell or enchanted item was needed to feel his presence and love, however. She just knew.

So when he slipped into bed and protectively embraced her, he heard a very soft, sleepy voice, doing what it did best.

“About time…”

The first thing she noted was the faint dampness of his shirt as well as the coolness of the air that had been interacting with the fabric. Her scantily clad body shivered against its touch, her hands instinctively looking for a way to remedy the problem of cold things in her bed.

Therefore, Nimavel soon found himself being deprived of his shirt. These things happened.

That problem solved, the young Gil’dae wrapped her arms tightly about his now bare torso and pulled him close, nuzzling her face gently into the crook of his neck, kissing softly and sharing her warmth.

"It’s good to have you home, a’maelamin. How did things in Nexus Prime go?"

Her lips continued to brush warm kisses across his neck and shoulders, just happy to have him close again. It simply wasn’t home without Nimavel. While Calairiel had grown into a strong individual, she was that much stronger with the unlikely suitor by her side.

Always stronger together.

[Nimavel Mynendil]

As she stirred within his embrace, Nimavel sighed softly and stroked her smooth face with his slender digits, caressing her cheeks and drawing several strands of silver behind her perfectly pointed ears. To this brightening it amazed him that Calairiel was always able to detect his presence –even on those occasions in which he purposely treaded softly atop the panels of her room.

Perhaps her sixth sense exceeded his own.

The thought evoked a smug smile along the elf’s lips, more so because it was difficult to imagine the Lady Gil’dae as the ‘combative’ type, which was ironic because she was one of the few whom Nimavel would have trusted to hold her own in a heated conflict anyway.

Calairiel Gil’dae was stronger than most realized.

“I did not wish to wake you.”

Nimavel quietly whispered as the lithe elfin woman wiggled in his grasp. Releasing a light chuckle as her hands fished through his shirt, the Heru Mynendil aided her in removing the slightly moist apparel and then tossed it unceremoniously to the floor.

Tilting his head upwards as Calairiel burrowed tenderly into his neck, the elfin lord exhaled pleasurably and stroked her thinly-clad back. His hands roamed up and down, digits massaging gently into her milky skin as he did so.

Shifting slightly to maneuver his love atop him, the elf traced her tapered ear with his tongue momentarily before kissing her fondly upon her cheek and forehead.

“[b]It’s good to be home, dae’amin.”

Nimavel soon corrected, and the candidness of his tone was becoming more evident every time that he referred to Starshadow Manor as his sanctuary. For a long while it had been difficult for the elfin lord to admit such a reality, but the estate had grown on him much like his love for Calariel seemed to compound daily.

“Uneventful…very uneventful, my love.”

The shadowy elfin lord stoically responded, not wishing to bore Calairiel with the details of his most peculiar and precarious endeavor. In truth the Arwen Gil’dae would unquestionably have been worried if he had explained the purpose of his venture there, and thus he was grateful that he had not when he had left the previous month.

It was better that she remain as unknowing as possible about such taboo topics; they had both agreed upon that much.

“What of you? Tell of your trips to Zinn’Sunn. I am excited to hear about all that you’ve done during our time apart.”

[Calairiel Mynendil Gil'dae]

Calairiel knew what Nimavel did for his profession, and while it –did- worry her, she knew as well that he was very capable of taking care of himself. That didn’t mean, however, that she didn’t breath a sigh of relief every time he came home.

His strong arms moved her upon his toned body, closing her eyes gently as his mouth and lips moved along her ear and face, giggling a bit at the slightly ticklish sensation, but mostly feeling peace and happiness.

"Zinn’Sun….well, training is training. You know that just as well as I do. Something that has to be done, and now Gliocia wants to go on trip and I have to accompany her, so my time in Syl’rosya is going to be short…yet again, but I made a deal with her that I could have some time off towards the end of the season so that we could perhaps take that vacation that we’ve been discussing. Just you and me. No Combine…guards…work….just you and me."

Grinning a bit, she kissed across his collarbone and neck, letting her long silver hair caress sensually against his bare skin…her own hands gently intertwined within his dark hair. From the start, their relationship had exuded sensuality…something that the unlikely pair could do little to control. It was just the way the reacted to each other. By definition, their relationship was complex to the core, but within that was the single truth that they were so perfect for each other that no one could ever hold a candle to what they felt for each other. The combination brought out things in each that they could have only dreamed of. Even their sparring matches were a thing of beauty, moving gracefully with one another.

It truly was a match that could never be equaled.

Grinning softly, Calairiel’s silver-hued gaze gently fell to his own eyes in a very mischievous manner, leaving him with little doubt as to what was on her mind. It was a subject they had been dancing around for awhile, for neither really knew what the other was thinking in regards to it, and it was essentially a taboo subject….

…until that moment.

[Nimavel Mynendil]

In the life of Nimavel Mynendil, love seldom translated into physical affection or verbal affirmation. He was an elf of few words and even fewer expressive gestures; plainly speaking, he was oftentimes perceived as listless and uninteresting. No one would have imagined that deep within the sanctums of his callous heart existed a sensual and compassionate side –that is, no one but Calairiel Gi’dae.

In many ways she had been the metaphorical key to his life, unlocking and evoking sentiments that he had never known to have existed. Consequently, she was the only person that knew the inherent side of him, the facet that he ordinarily shielded from the public eye.

Running his hands freely along her backside, the elf propped his weight onto his elbow as he turned on his side, providing his utmost attention to his love as she expounded upon her latest brightenings.

“[b]The Emerald Mother is a good woman.[b]”

Nimavel admitted softly, never steering his gaze away from Calairiel’s quicksilver stare. Although his words rang true, the same could not be said for all of the U’sionayl women. Not too long ago the elfin lord, accompanied by the entire host of Mynendils, had been tasked with the duty of apprehending Glioca’s sister on accounts of alleged conspiracy and murder of the Phoenix Father.

That had been some fiasco.

“Still, I welcome our upcoming disappearances. We’ve both earned them.”

The elfin lord replied with a candid chuckle. Although the Lord of House Mynendil surprisingly enjoyed his subtle and surreptitious life-style, he did acknowledge that he would have traded that for a single candlemark with Calairiel in a heartbeat.

And to think that he would have the entire remainder of spring with her!

The thought was stimulating, and this rare seed of excitement was compounded even more by the alluring glimmer emanating from Calairiel’s eyes. He recognized that expression and easily discerned the accentuated meaning behind her suggestive gaze.

A short-lived and equally indicative grin flashed across his face in response.

For a long while he and Calairiel had instinctively remained within limited parameters as far as physical affection went. They had never ventured any further than necessary but only up until what was comfortable. Not unexpectedly, though, with time they had grown closer and more intimately together. Their love for one another had developed exponentially with the passing of time as well.

And it was only natural that they acted upon it.

Cradling Calairiel in his muscularly chorded arms, the elfin lord rolled her off of him and scrambled playfully atop her. Planting a trail of kisses along her sensitive neck, Nimavel worked his way upwards until his lips pressed passionately onto the maiden’s own; his warm tongue dancing against hers as their mouths parted open. Meanwhile his hands worked of their own accord, trailing provocatively down her hips and towards her waist; his fingers curling nimbly as he efficiently worked to hike up her night gown and shed it from her lithe form.

And then, subsequent of eras of training in K’Tesh (the true purpose behind the shadow arts), he somehow managed to scoop the blankets over their bare, interlocked figures.

[Calairiel Mynendil Gil'dae]

The young Gil’dae giggled playfully as her love managed to roll her gently to her back. Partially, the giggle was meant to cover a certain level of nervousness. It was more the subject matter then the person she was with. Having no experience with the erotic skills of the bedroom, she was worried what Nimavel would think of her….

….but then the worry disappeared. It was Nimavel…the elf she loved. He loved her for who she was, and everything would be okay.

Another giggle slipped free when he managed to slip the covers over their heads, but this time it was in happiness instead of fear.

***

The next morning, the soft morning light was barely peeking through the woods of Syl’rosya when Calairiel awoke, still almost drunk with happiness in the memory of what had transpired in the shadows of night. Her silver-hued gaze quickly found its way to Nimavel’s seemingly sleeping form. A lithe hand slipped gently against his cheek, caressing it lovingly as she snuggled closer into his embrace. In that moment, she found that watching him sleep was one of the best things in her life. It brought her peace seeing him relax and be able to trust another enough to allow him to sleep in the same bed with them…and of course she was thrilled that it was her that received the honor.

Bound for life, they were…and there was no other place she would rather be.

[Nimavel Mynendil]

At the soft, tranquil touch of slender fingers touched his face, Nimavel Mynendil stirred from reverie. Batting his eyelids open to reveal a pair of cool lavender orbs, the assassin raised his brow peculiarly at the softness of the bed, lightness the room, and the beautiful woman nearby, all of which reminded him that this was not Hillwillow Manor. Indeed, for had this been home then he would have awoken with knife in hand and the reflexes of a cornered owl.

He could not remember the last time that he had slept so soundly.

Nimavel’s pale-hued visage softened at the sight of his love, and he instinctively draped an arm over her shoulders to draw her close in an intimate embrace.

“Morning.”

He quietly whispered, running his fingers through her long silver hair as was habitual for him nowadays. Giving Calairiel a light squeeze, the elfin lord sighed and propped his head against the frame of her large bed.

An embarrassed smirk darted across his face as he was abruptly reminded of his nakedness, though admittedly he preferred the warmness of Calairiel’s body next to his. The previous night had been exhilarating to say the least, and unbeknownst to Calairiel, it had initially been rather awkward. Having never been with a woman before, the elfin lord had been more than a tidbit self-conscious over his performance.

Luckily, though, Calairiel’s candid grin seemed reaffirming enough.

“The day is ours.”

Nimavel continued, kissing Calairiel lightly across the lips before ruffling her hair with his hands.

“What would you like to do?”

[Calairiel Mynendil Gil'dae]

She loved his hands in her hair. Everything felt right when he performed that simple act. She felt loved, adored and protected…by a mere act of affection. It was a sensation unknown to her previously, but with Nimavel, it came naturally.

Kissing his neck softly, she wrapped her lithe arms around his body gently, pulling him closer as she snuggled against his warm body.

"Mmmm….-our- day, you say? Well, I’m inclined to keep you all to myself in bed for the entire brightening, but I doubt that would be constructive. Fun, but not constructive. Besides, we have the rest of our lives for that…not to mention darkening tonight."

Leaning over, she planted whisper soft kisses along his collarbone, letting her hands gently trace over his the lines of his body, committing them all to memory while her mind worked quickly to figure out something for the pair to do with their brightening.

"I suppose a morning meal is in order, and usually if I’m home, I find someone in the guard and have a training session a bit after. I don’t suppose that you would do me the honor today of being my training partner, would you?"

She knew the answer as surely as she knew her own name, but it was always nice to ask. The sparkle in her quicksilver gaze told Nimavel that she was thinking about the first time they had sparred. That fateful brightening in Imperia that marked the start of their journey together. Since that moment, Calairiel hadn’t been able to think of her life without Nimavel within it. Life wasn’t anything without him..his love…his support. They belonged together…she knew that.

She –knew- that, and there was nothing that would ever take him away from her. Calairiel had waited too long for a love this strong…this powerful. The connection was more then she could put into words.

They had been born to love one another, and it was very likely that there were no others in the whole of the Empire that could love either of them as perfectly and completely as they loved each other.

[Nimavel Mynendil]

“The rest of our lives…”

Nimavel echoed, revealing a trace of a smile along his thin lips as he squeezed Calairiel closer to him. His fingers drummed lightly against her backside as she wiggled closer to him, a movement that elicited a small chuckle in response.

Although the prospect of him and Calairiel living together for eternity was certainly one that he sincerely fancied, the truth of the matter was that fate was so impossible to predetermine. Sure, if it was up to him the elfin lord would have relinquished every obligation in his life to remain by her side forever.

He would have sacrificed everything in a heartbeat.

Admittedly, though, this was an impossible likelihood. And in addition, his affairs in Nexus Prime had virtually compounded the improbability of such a scenario from ever transpiring. Life had proven difficult and tedious thus far, and their road together was bound to become more arduous as time continued.

“I for one would not mind your proposed brightening in bed, but perhaps you’re right in that we’ll have other opportunities to do so. Still, I’ll take you up on that one day.”

Shrugging comically, Nimavel rolled Calairiel onto her backside and hovered over her momentarily before leaning down to kiss her lightly atop the lips.

“A training partner?”

The assassin’s ebony brows arched amusedly above his lavender eyes as another soft smile fanned across his mouth. His love’s request was the last that he had expected from her, especially given the nature of their previous night together. Nevertheless, he loved that aspect about Calairiel. Her spontaneous nature was something to adore and it certainly paved way for new and entertaining experiences.

Normally the elfin lord would have declined such a request, more so because few knew of his surreptitious capabilities let alone combative experience and thus he preferred to keep a low profile on such matters. But as he had nothing to hide from the Arwen Gil’dae, he was more than charmed by her innocent inquiry.

“Hm…in that case…”

With casual grace, he plucked one of her pillows from the bed and batted her lightly across the face with it.

“En garde.”

He chuckled again.

[Calairiel Mynendil Gil'dae]

Grinning again, Calairiel laughed as he rolled her on her back once again, punctuating the motion with a gentle kiss. He had grown and changed so much in the time that she had known him, but still remained fundamentally the same. She often wondered if the changes in him were visible to those on the outside, but it really didn’t matter. All she cared about was how he was with her.

Deepening the kiss gently, letting her tongue softly run along his bottom lip before plunging further and dancing sensually against his own tongue, she pulled him close and once again relished the feeling of having him close…

…of having him home.

The light batting of the pillow startled her a bit, surprise being replaced by the mysterious grin that Nimavel so loved to see. By this time in their relationship, he should have realized that –that- grin couldn’t mean anything good.

His –next- clue would have been when he felt her leg wrap around his from the inside thigh. The beautiful elf maiden kissed his nose and then rolled –him- onto his back in one swift motion…pinning his wrists playfully and lowering her mouth once again for a deep kiss.

"Oh...is -that- the game we are going to play, Heruenamin?"

Once her retaliation was over…for the moment, she reached over and grabbed his shirt from her bedside table…still seated lightly atop his body, wriggling into said shirt. It was a touch big, but just added that much more allure to her appearance.

And –that- was when the retaliation began in earnest. The previous had been just a primer to what was to come.

Grinning once again, she let her hands travel down his sensitive sides, lightly tickling his warm skin, knowing full well that he could control the sensations, should he wish…but hoping he wouldn’t with her. He could be himself with her, even if that meant ‘being himself’ meant that he was ticklish.

The day was theirs, and she simply wished to spend it loving him….whatever manner, shape or form that took.

[Nimavel Mynendil]

Rarely did contentment define the moments in the Lord of House Mynendil’s life. He treaded dangerously a double-edged sword, always confronted by the prospect of toppling over on either side to oblivion. Whether he was in Imperia, Daltina, or Nexus Prime, the perils were always the same.

Except for in Silrosia.

It was not so much that the Heru Mynendil was immune to the hazards of Elfhame, but rather that it was the one location on Telath in which he felt completely at home –sometimes at least.

With Calairiel warmly pressed against him, the elf was reminded of why he constantly returned to the forests despite his obligations elsewhere. Regardless of his duties, assignments, and responsibilities, he would always come home so long as the
Arwen Gil’dae was there.

Turned onto his backside, the Lord of Mynendil grinned and rested his hands on Calairiel’s hips, massaging her softly as he returned her kiss. As she scooted off him and squirm into his shirt, he propped himself on an elbow and revealed the beginnings of a bemused grin.

“Black has always been your color.”

Nimavel shrewdly remarked, secretly alluding to the black leather outfit that she had worn when they had first met in Imperia. Although the elf would never have been perceived as a superficial person, even he had had his flaws.

Chuckling faintly as she reached for his sides, the elfin lord instinctively flexed his stomach to ward off her poking fingers and in retaliation he quickly scooted backwards and grasped her wrists.

Grinning widely, he spread her hands apart while pulling her towards him, locking lips with hers once more for several moments before causally retreating a few centimeters from her face.

“Come dae’amin.”

He urged, depositing several kisses along the openness of her neck before canting his head towards the doorway.

“The brightening is still young. I will spar with you as promised, but only so long as you agree not to hurt me.”

He laughed.

[Calairiel Mynendil Gil'dae]

Giving him a positively adorable pout, Calairiel did as he asking…begrudgingly…and slipped off the bed and began changing as he made his last few comments. And then she heard it…

…that glorious sound.

Nimavel had laughed.

Her quicksilver gaze wide…brilliant really…looked over at him with a shocked expression, softening at the realization of it all. He had perhaps chuckled a few times…given her a few smiles…certainly always made her feel loved and adored…but –never- had he laughed, until that moment.

She wasn’t sure if he knew why, but she wasn’t going to ignore such a monumental thing, so within the space of a few heartbeats, she had wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and without saying anything, pressed her lips hard against his, immediately deepening the kiss as the exhilaration of the moment overtook her. It was a different kiss then the playful banter they usually participated in, born of something deeper and more serious. A kiss of love and desire, deep passion….and ultimately of acceptance. She had been more then willing to accept Nimavel as he was when she had met him in Imperia. Calairiel loved the man…not what he would become or had been…She loved him for who he was, but there were so many layers that even he himself had never explored that who he was -was- constantly changing and evolving.

And she loved every second of it.

Releasing him from the kiss, slowly…her gaze fell to his, and she used a term that carried with it the weight of eternity, caressing his face softly. While they did speak in the common language on occasion when humans were present, their main mode of speech was the beautiful language of the elves…and even though Nimavel was used to hearing the lyrical language spoken by his people, Calairiel’s lilt and tone was even more exquisite, especially saying what she was about to.

It quite possibly would be the most beautiful thing he had ever heard said.


“Lle mela en’ coiamin”…*

Yes, there were other things that they would do with that day…and yes, she had told him that she loved him many times before. They both knew what they had was special…enduring…but verbalizing to him that he –was- in fact the love of her life was something she just felt the need to do.

Communication was a very important aspect to relationships, and while they were experts in non-verbal forms of it, knowing what the other was thinking…

…some things just needed to be said.

OOC: * “You are the love of my life”

[Nimavel Mynendil]

Stretching languidly upon the mattress, the Heru Mynendil was reminded of the rare sense of comfort that he felt in the Gil’dae Cheb. There had been a time when the prospect would have abhorred him, but ironically his perceptions had changed considerably since then.

It was his home now.

The concept of home had always been foreign to the Lord Mynendil, but Calairiel had helped him acclimate to such a notion. It was not so much that Starshadow Manor had any intrinsic meaning to him, but rather Calairiel made it significant. Her presence was all that any realm required in order for Nimavel to deem it pleasant (barring Aeternia or the Blackbarch of course).

Leaning back against the pillows as his lavender eyes appraised Calairiel’s delicate form, the elfin lord could not repress the admiration from his gaze. The Arwen Gil’dae’s inner vitality had always been appealing to him. Her perseverance and strong will had been traits that he noticed even before they had become acquainted. And despite their initial roles as contending enemies, he had respected her even then.

And his sentiments for her seemed to enhance her beauty exponentially.

Uncertain of the cause for Calairiel’s hasty and excited return, the elf’s ebony brows rose bemusedly as he retrieved her back into his arms. Cradling her in his grasp and tilting his head upwards to intercept her tongue with his own, he affectionately leaned into her and deepened the kiss.

And then her words struck him like no blade ever could.

It was no wound of pain that afflicted his heart, but one of tenderness and warmness –both of which were normally distant to him. The unfolding softness in his violet gaze delineated that he was touched by her words, and the manner in which he leaned his forehead against hers was indicative of his mutual feelings.

But did she know that?

Brushing his lips lightly against Calairiel’s, it occurred to the elfin lord that he had never expressed his genuine adoration for her. His actions oftentimes did speak better than words ever could, but whereas Calairiel was so verbal of her feelings, Nimavel tended to subscribe to the school of thought that emphasized affectionate gestures over hollow declarations.

But even if he did choose to speak from his heart…he knew his words would not be born from emptiness.

They never would.

“I love you, Calairiel. I always will.”

The elf’s visage lightened as he spoke, articulating with more candidness than anyone, including Calairiel, had ever heard from him before. Strangely, though, Nimavel was devoid of awkwardness as he whispered, something that was quite unexpected as these sorts of things did not usually flow from his lips.

Nevertheless, though, he meant every word.

Twisting his fingers around several strands of Calairiel’s silver hair, he offered her a casual smile and wrapped his arms comfortingly around her. Relaxing with her warm body atop his, he continued to rest in the solace that their journey together had only just begun.