[Gil'dae Cheb] A Rude Awakening (Eladrian)

[Larien Gil'dae]

Last brightening of the last cycle of Melora, Spring, Era II of the Celestine Mandate
Era XIV Post Fractum, the Second Era of the Regency of Milo L'Evienne.

Small beads of sweat collected upon Larien's pale brow, the light from the twin suns dripping downwards upon her lithe form, warming her skin through the thin linen shirt draped across her torso. Cursing beneath her breath - "By the sea and stars!" - the elven woman pressed her left leg into the side of the Sandbred mare prancing beneath her, her long fingers tightening slightly upon the reins. With a snort, the equine shifted to the right, finally carrying its mistress in the direction she had been intending it to carry her in for the past few minutes. But such was the way of things when one was absent for the better part of an era... one's extra mount did not get worked properly. No matter. It gave her something to do. Something to occupy her time and thoughts. Something that didn't remind her of Motito in the least.

Motito. Even thinking his name brought an uncomfortable lump to the maiden's throat and a haze to her eerily light green eyes. With a sigh, Larien blinked back her tears, her jaw clenching slightly in determination. She had to remain strong, if for no one else then for herself. Her mind and heart couldn't deal with any more emotional strain.

In a single fluid motion, Larien dismounted from the tired mare, worked to a lather from the young elven woman's persistent quest for perfection. As her booted feet touched the hard ground of the stable yard though, the maiden had to grab onto the saddle for support. It had been long since the last time she had spent the better part of a few candlemarks working nonstop in such a manner. Feeling rather weak and drained - much to Larien's irritation - all she could do for many moments was lean against Fionn, letting the elegantly formed mare support her weight. And then one of the Gil'dae stable lads was at her side, seeming to appear from thin air. Larien wasn't too surprised though. He had probably been watching her from the cool darkness of the stables. "See that she is rubbed down," the young woman instructed softly, her melodious tones dancing from her lips to fall upon the warm spring air. The boy merely nodded before leading the little mare off, leaving Larien alone, tired... and uncomfortably stiff.

Leaning backwards, the elven woman stretched her arms up over her head and behind her body, her long auburn locks tumbling over her shoulders. Slowly, the tenseness in her shoulders released and Larien straightened once more, tucking a stray lock of her hair behind one of her delicately pointed ears. Glancing downwards, the maiden took in her appearance - dusty breeches, scuffed boots, clinging shirt - and crinkled her nose. Time for a hot bath... and then a cup of tea, she mentally noted as a sense of peace she had not known for a long time settled upon her like a warm blanket tucking in a sleeping child for the darkening.

It felt good to be home.

[Eladrian Gil'dae]

The journey was long, nobody could deny that. Eladrian first took a ferry across the Libertas Bay, into Kriskinstat where he then boarded for the night, waiting for the trade ship embarking the following morning. Taking that ship that was trading goods in Paxia, they sailed the Eunesian Sea with not too much trouble. One storm nearly sent the ship into it's destruction, but the gods were watching out for them and they arrived safely a week later. The rest of his journey he took by land, traveling the road between Paxia and Nexus Prime with great haste. A week at sea was unsettling for everybody except perhaps a sailor, and even they got antsy. At Nexus Prime he found boarding for the night, and onwards there he made the journey without a rest. The day's journey to Kyathis was the long part, but the journey to Silrosia from there was a brisk stroll comparatively.

Eladrian was making this journey for one reason, a speculation that he can find his paternal ancestry there. He bore the same eyes as his father, so he was told, and he was given a simple name. Quinnor. It meant nothing to him, nor did it mean anything to Inwè, his mother. He would ask for a Quinnor and hopefully that would yield information.

The walk into Silrosia wasn't as grand as he pictured it in his head. Silrosia had been a blip on his map until a week and some odd days ago, it only took meaning where this mysterious Quinnor was involved. It appeared to Eladrian as a microcosm of Jaedaxia, though in his opinion lacking in culture. Not everything could be the Jaedaxia he knew as home, for even it's slums were rich in the deepest culture he'd ever known. Many humans made their home here, he noticed, with a large amount of elves also in view. It was a diverse city, and for being so small that was a difference. Undoubtedly more elves resided in the woody area he noticed on the road into Silrosia, and perhaps he would end up having to go into the woods to find his final destination.

Many people weren't very helpful. They were obviously either far younger than this strange man or simply never heard of him. There was also the possibility that his original source was off, but she swore by it. The green eyes were a dead give away. It wasn't until he chanced upon an older elven man in the corner of Moonwillow Keep, (a place he mentally noted to return to, if he ever made the journey again, for the entertainment was impeccable) sitting in a corner with a glint in his eye. He was obviously one of those who knew many things, waiting for the right person to capture his attention and request a story. Eladrian simply asked the man if he knew of a Quinnor, alive or dead, and the man's glint disappeared. He stared much deeper into El's eyes, and glanced around to see the plaited platinum blond hair falling on his back. "Gil'dae, my child, Gil'dae. Far in the Tawnleaf Wood, go there and perhaps end your quest."

How the man knew he was on a "quest" Eladrian would never know. But Eladrian did just that, finding that Starshadow Keep, where House Gil'dae resides, was perhaps farther out from Silrosia then some but not impossible to find. It was a small work, compared to his journey as a whole, and he had little problem in following the path. The majesty of the Cheb was intense, and as he walked through the iron wrought gateway that opened wide, he hoped his answer could be here. Perhaps Quinnor could be known of here, whether a friend or foe of this house. He would not know until he asked.

As friendly as the door seemed, he did not want to alert the entirety of the Cheb to his arrival. Hopefully he could speak with a few people, and be gone from this place, happy to return to his hometown wiser. Walking around the magnificent piece of elven architecture, he saw a lone horse-rider amble into the stables, and he sought that person. Many yards off he walked across the yard, and by that time the rider at disembarked and was resting, weary from her travels. He could not see her face, not clearly, but he spoke anyhow. "I was told I could learn of a man named Quinnor here, at the House of Gil'dae." Eladrian approached closer to her, and moved his head to look upon her easily. His eyes glinted in a spark of the sun.

[Larien Gil'dae]

The light, almost shushing thud of a foot against the packed dirt of the stable yard resounded off into the warm spring air as someone approached Larien from behind. Rolling her shoulders, the young elven woman sighed softly to herself. It was probably another visitor for her cousin, Cala, who was sadly absent on this brightening. Turning about, she had been preparing to tell the stranger just that when something about his appearance gave her pause - two things in fact. A pair of eerily light green eyes staring out at her, matching the exact shade, the exact spark, the exact set of her own eyes. The eyes she had always believed to be unique only to herself. Herself and her father, Quinnor.

I was told I could learn of a man named Quinnor here, at the House of Gil'dae. Eyebrows were lifted upon Larien's brow, an expression of surprise and disbelief shadowing her delicate facial features. "Quinnor?" She repeated, her melodious voice ringing a little too loud to her own ears. "Why do you wish to learn of Quinnor?" She was surprised at her own hostility - what was wrong with her? This half-Thelyri man hadn't hurt anyone by coming here, by speaking to her. And yet Larien was on the defensive, her hackles rising as surely as any street mongrel preparing for a fight.

Of course, it was obvious what this man wanted to know. It was as obvious as the flecks of green sparkling from within his face. As obvious as the platinum hair, shimmering with the faintest blush of blue. He wanted to know of Quinnor because Quinnor was his father.

And Larien was his sister.

But stubborn as she was, the maiden would not believe it, refused to believe it, until the strange and nameless man confirmed it. Could it be mere coincidence that their eyes were the same? But no, how could it be? Larien had never met another before that had shared her eyes. She had never heard of another - save for Quinnor. Quinnor, she thought bitterly. The father she had never known. The father that had made her what she was - a bastard. Curse him to the ends of Telath. Curse him and any more bastards he littered across the Empire.

Strangely pale eyes flashing, Larien stood before the stranger, shoulders squared in the manner of a warrior preparing for a battle. Her face was cold in its challenging hostility. She dared him to disclose he was Quinnor's son... just as she hoped he would not.

[Eladrian Gil'dae]

The instant he looked into her eyes, strong shivers coursed through his body. He was looking into a mirror - or, at least, the same eyes. She wasn't as fair as he, but none the less an attractive elf. Nothing was clicking, particularly why his question caused her to grow so defensive. Perhaps, he thought, it was the name that caused her to act this way, not the question itself. Or both, yes, that was the most likely.

"I come from Jaedaxia, over a week's journey, on a bit of information that Quinnor shares these green eyes. I come only for knowledge to quench my hungry curiosity," Eladrian stated in a monotone, already in a defensive state. "You have the same green eyes, I--" Eladrian pieced many things together at the same time. The same green eyes, her hostile behavior - but then, that would infer she was not in a good relationship with Quinnor, or at the very least there are bitter feeling residing there.

"Is he still alive? Or deceased?" Eladrian slowly asked, his eyes widening with the previous sudden realization and an onset of emotions. It all became quite obvious, that a daughter of Quinnor sat here, outside of a place where the House of Gil'dae lived. He would not fit in here, he would not be able to call these people family.

He couldn't call this teeth-baring woman before him his sister. "I have no choice of who I can call my father--sometimes I think even the gods don't." With that, he stepped back, as if to run off and leave this all behind him. To return to Jaedaxia where his mother was, where he could find peace and sanctification. Yet, he did not leave. He waited to see how his half-sister would react.

The gods know, Eladrian already learned enough about Quinnor to last many ilfetimes.

[Larien Gil'dae]

I have no choice of who I can call my father--sometimes I think even the gods don't.

Like water dripping from a broken bowl, Larien felt her short-lived anger leak from her body. She had no reason to be angry at this elven man - he was not the enemy. He was just another victim like herself. With a sigh, the young woman ran her slender fingers through her auburn locks, dropping her gaze from the mirrored one of her brother. The ground was suddenly much easier to look at than at him. Embarrassment at her behavior caused a pale flush to burn across her angular cheeks. If Motito could see her now, what would he say? He surely would not be proud of her, that much she was certain of. When he had come all the way to Natura, those long eras ago, to tell her of her birthright, he had not snarled at her. No, instead, he had welcomed her to the family, had consoled her bitter tears, had given her a place to call home. Such memories brought a fresh batch of tears to the maiden's eyes, though she blinked them away furiously. Brother or not, this man before her was still a stranger - and she refused to cry before him.

"Forgive me..." she murmured softly, her melodious voice little more than sad sigh. "I am not myself on this brightening." Lifting her eyes, she met the odd gaze of the other with a firm set to her face, though all the previous hostility had since then left. All that remained was a great sorrow, rendering her more lovely in her obvious pain. That and something else, something unnamed. Sheepishness perhaps? Extending her pale hand towards the half-Thelyri, Larien continued, "My name is Larien Gil'dae... daughter of Quinnor Gil'dae. Welcome to the Starshadow Keep... as to whether Quinnor is alive or dead... we do not know. He has been missing for many, many eras."

As the words the other had spoken earlier finally registered in her mind, the young woman felt even more like a brute. Jaedaxia? That was a long journey indeed. Had he traveled on foot? She did not see a horse about him. Wincing mentally, Larien hurried to remedy her rudeness - behavior one could only expect of a human... but which was very unattractive in one of the elvish race. "You must be very tired. Here, let me show you inside... you must stay for the darkening. Or however long you like. I insist." Smiling lightly, she gestured towards the Gil'dae Cheb, craving a cup of hot tea herself. She could only hope the other would accept her invitation. Should he refuse... she would not be able to forgive herself for her behavior should he refuse, for then she'd know it was her fault for driving him away. "The head of the house, my - I mean... our cousin, is absent at the moment. Though if you'd like, you are welcome to stay until she returns home... not that you'd have to leave after that. You are welcome to stay as long as you like and to return whenever you wish... all Gil'daes are..." Not usually one for so many words, Larien began to stumble, blushing slightly as she did.

"We come and go as we please, knowing that we always have a home at Starshadow Keep. It can be your home too... if you like." There was so much she didn't know about this man, her brother. Like his name for starters. Would she have a chance to learn? Larien could only hope.

[Eladrian Gil'dae]

Eladrian's eyes, those same eyes, lit up. A sense of relief flowed over him, for things were better than he originally thought. El would not have to deal with Quinnor at all, most likely, which is what he feared the most. But other emotions were crowding their way into his head, predominantly the one that said this House was related to him, that generations of his blood have lived and tended this very area. Funny to go from a humble elven boy doing whatever job he could to one related to an esteemed house of the Sylrosian ancestry.

"You need not ask my forgiveness, I should be asking yours. I probably should have stayed in Jaedaxia and never pursued this curiosity of mine, and I've yet to decide if this is a good finding or a bad." El's mouth twisted up in a smile, regardless of the neutrality of this discovery. Her name was Larien. It was a fair name for a fair face, he supposed, and as a sister an even better name. He saw so much potential, the question came when one considered that potential to be good or bad.

"I'm Eladrian, son of Inwè. The House of Gil'dae seems like a respectable house, though I cannot say it's reached the ears of our kind in Jaedaxia." Indeed, they hadn't. The Gil'dae house must be a western power, if any power at all. The thought crossed his mind (and more than once) that the Gil'dae name could help propel him through whichever career he decided to pursue. Whether that be the Mage Corps, or perhaps into local politics. . .the Gil'dae name could be a source of power to draw on. Not to say that he couldn't find a family in these people, but it's hard to fill a hole that has been empty for so long.

His body language had been slowly changing, going from erect and defensive to slumped and weary. For he indeed was weary, nearly no time to rest in his journey, though it was a self-inflicted choice. Brushing some of his platinum blond hair from his face, he said, "I am tired, but I do not want to run in on your hospitality. I'm quite sure I've learned enough of my father to be content. . ." Eladrian's voice trailed off as an inner battle was waged. El was not angry with Larien, indeed, he understood her frustration to find out another bastard existed, but he also did not want to get too close. It was a bittersweet feeling, wanting the name but not necessarily the family. Would the sentiments of the entire family be like hers? He feared that, but the sheer fact of having family overwhelmed him. "Or, perhaps I could at least stay the darkening."

Starshadow Keep, his home? He toyed with the idea for only a few moments before remembering what he had just thought. This family would not accept a stranger, or at least they shouldn't in his opinion. Just because his father bedded his mother for one night and produced El did not make him a. . a Gil'dae. Was blood alone enough? "Perhaps I should wait and talk to the Head, when will she return? I do not have any obligations back in Jaedaxia, in fact I do not want to return so soon. On my journey here I went through Paxia, and perhaps I will find work there to help it's rebuilding cause. Or defense cause." The town was pitiful, he remembered. El picked up stories of orc raids, among other things, that decimated the one prosperous trade city. The potential of entering the military and studying arcana to defend Paxia was appealing to him, for he was a humanist at heart.

[Larien Gil'dae]

"Eladrian," Larien said with a smile, testing out the name upon her tongue. "Well I would say we are a respectable house... though perhaps not as influential in the empire as we should be." It was true that the House of Gil'dae was only a lesser house of the Syl'rosyan Combine, though the fame of her beloved cousin Motito had carried the name wide and far. When introducing herself to strangers, Larien had found on more than one occasion that upon hearing the name Gil'dae, they did not respond, "Oh one of that noble elven family" but instead "Ah you are related to Motito?" It was a fact she had come to accept, though the young woman hoped one brightening that the family would be known for more than just the deeds of the now deceased Tito.

At Eladrian's words, Larien felt her smile slowly slide from her lips. I am tired, but I do not want to run in on your hospitality. I'm quite sure I've learned enough of my father to be content. . . That was it?... he had just traveled for a full cycle to discover if his father was alive or dead? He had just learned that he had an entire family he didn't know... a sister standing before him... and he did not wish to stay? Despite herself, Larien felt hurt. Or, perhaps I could at least stay the darkening. The smile that bloomed across the maiden's angular features was as radiant as any beams raining down from the twin suns of Telath. "I know you will enjoy your stay here."

Green eyes flashing brilliantly, her sudden joy evident - more positive emotion than she had felt in well over an era - the young woman led the way up the walk to the Cheb, long auburn locks streaming over her shoulders. "Calairiel should return within the cycle, though as to an exact brightening I am uncertain." Paxia? The young woman digested that bit of news slowly. She had, of course, heard rumors of the troubles of the city, but it had not occurred to her before that moment that perhaps there was something she could do to help. Maybe journey there and help to rebuild? It was definitely something to ponder over... considering she didn't seem to have much going on in her life at that particular moment.

The flowers within the garden were in full bloom, filling the air with their heady scents. There was something distinctly wild and unkept about the blooms as they threatened to spill over into the path, some even climbing their way up poles strategically placed to support the hanging baskets that swayed gently in the warm breeze, hints of summer heavy in the air. But it was a quaint wildness, a wildness Larien had always appreciated and admired. Had the gardens been strict and prim, she probably wouldn't have enjoyed them near as much. The keep itself was an architectural masterpiece - a rare truce of cold stone and living wood twisted into a stronghold as brilliant and powerful as the elven maiden hoped House Gil'dae might some brightening be. Ivy climbed the outer walls, serving as a bridge between the world of the lifeless stone and the pulsing redwood. The entrance to this great building was a set of double doors that were actually a part of one of the roots of the mighty redwood tree. The crest of the Gil'dae family was set into the wood.

Smiling at Eladrian over her shoulder, Larien then led the way through the doors and into the peaceful, though energetic activity of the entrance hall. Pillars rose upwards towards the high ceiling, a strange yet beautiful mix of stone and wood. Chairs and benches were pushed against the walls, since the hall also served as a type of waiting room for guests wishing to speak to the current head of the house. Said seating was empty at that particular moment, though, seeing as Starshadow Keep itself was fairly empty. Save for the servants hurrying about in the Gil'dae livery and a few of her cousins that Larien knew were probably lurking somewhere. Pausing before the grand staircase that led up to the second floor - and to the rooms of those Gil'daes currently residing in the keep - the young woman cast about for someone to assist her with Eladrian. Help came in the form of a young elven man with jet black hair and blue eyes, a kind cast to his features. "Vedui," the young woman murmured politely to the servant before gesturing to her newfound... brother (that would take some getting used to) with a pale hand. "If you'd be so kind as to show Heru Eladrian to his room and to help in any way he needs...?" The other smiled and nodded, glancing in Eladrian's direction before starting up the stairs, indicating that the elvish man should follow. Larien smiled after them as they went, calling after her brother, "We shall speak more once you have rested!"

With that, the young woman made her way up the stairs and towards her own room, counting down the moments until she could be sinking into a warm bath.

Meanwhile, the dark-haired servant had led Eladrian to the long hallway of living quarters, a red carpet running down the middle. To the left were the actual rooms for the direct members of the family - complete with a giant bed, rather large windows, a small desk, a privy, as well as some other pieces of furniture - and to the right, directly across from their respected rooms, was a study for that particular member. About halfway down the hallway, the servant paused briefly in front of a door on the left before opening it to reveal the room inside that would from then on be Eladrian's for his personal use any time he came to the keep. "Shall I get anything for you m'lord?" The man lilted, his blue eyes locking onto the other's face as he waited patiently for instructions.

OOC: All descriptions of the Starshadow Keep taken from this thread

[Eladrian Gil'dae]

Eladrian could find no words as they entered Starshadow Keep and walked through it's immense beauty. The gardens, the first thing he and Larien walked through, were extravagant, but not in such a way that disconnected from nature. There was a raw beauty in the growing of these gardens, that while being manicured they did not speak of strict alignment. This was the type of gardening that only a true Sylrosian could accomplish, and it matched the Cheb they were entering to the finest detail.

Elven architecture had always been a fascination to Eladrian, for different races claimed to have different styles, but he knew better. They all prefer high ceilings, wide spaces favored over cramped ones. Starshadow Keep did not differ from his expectations, except perhaps exceeding them. The earthy tones reflected the Sylrosian race, and gave him a sense of home. But this was not his home, his father connected him to this but what right does he have? Eladrian only knew of Quinnor's specific details moments ago, but already he was being given a room for the darkening. El faintly noted which room Larien went into, and followed the man who he assumed was baby sitting him through the home. The room was of a medium size, with sheets of a thin material falling over the window, blocking out direct sunlight but filtering light through. Upon the oaken floors was a single rug, thick and plush with a material he could not identify. The bed, the bed that sung his name and Phedos knows Eladrian wanted to sleep. Otherwise, the room contained a bureau made of cherry wood that offset the oak floors to create a very comfortable atmosphere.

The man that had led him here apparently was charged with serving the son of Quinnor, but this concept was foreign to Eladrian. Never once had he had someone who actually was supposed to wait on him, so when began to inquire where he can prepare his bath the blue-eyed man immediately stepped out of the room only to return a few moments later with a medium-sized kettle that had steam pouring out. The blue-eyed man beckoned for Eladrian to follow him, which he did most whimsically. Oh the wonder to sit in warm water and wash the dirt of the road off of him. They found themselves in a much smaller room, a large iron-wrought tub towards the corner with room temperature water half-way filling it. The man poured the boiling water into the lukewarm water, steam billowing up and gurgling pleasantly. The man bowed out, and left Eladrian to himself.

Stripping the dusty travel clothes off of him, he lowered his weary body into the tub, which was not long enough for his 5'7" stature but more comfortable then any bath he had taken previously. He moved down to dip his head under water, the longish platinum blond hair already gaining back some of it's shine. Eladrian honestly didn't know how long he sat in that tub, but when he came to full realization the water was cold and he was too. Standing up, he stepped out to find a large plush towel outside of the door, as well as pressed clothes that smelled of rosemary.

Clean, his hair down in sopping ropes, he exited the small washroom and felt like a deer in headlights. Where was he? El glanced to his right, the hallway extending doors upon doors, and to his left, where it looked about equal distance. He had no perception of direction, no idea from which way he came. The blue-eyed man was no where in sight (the one time he needed him), so he began to meander to his right. He thought he remembered the oil painting of an elf upon a rock, holding his sword up into the heavens, but it seemed as though he remembered that from his dreams. . . .

Wood creaked under the carpeted hallway as he glanced into each open door as he passed. Many of them looked as though nobody inhabited them, though the occasional few would have a cloak out of place or a book lying open. Nothing was triggering a memory as he walked down the hallway. Everything was blurring together as he walked alone, not finding any other life nor movement. The sound of his feet hitting the floor was becoming methodic as he approached the end of the hallway, when his eyes caught a flash of movement.

"Larien!" He half-shouted, actually surprised to find her. "I'm as rested as I will get, the bath was most rejuvenating. I am at your service."

[Larien Gil'dae]

Within the privy in her own room, Larien soaked lazily in the tub of steaming water. Her auburn locks fanned out about her form, curling wetly against her pale skin or dancing provocatively upon the water's surface depending upon which way she shifted within the relaxing warmth. All her aches and worries seemed to melt away with each passing moment - the knots of her muscles unwinding themselves slowly to be replaced with a delicious feeling of contentment that could have rivaled the sweetest of wines. But such feelings could not last forever. As tempting as the prospect was, Larien could not remain closeted in her privy for the rest of the brightening. There was still the small issue of Starshadow Keep's latest guest to attend to. Eladrian, the young woman toyed with his name as she flicked her slender fingers through the scented water, watching the ripples in a rather absent-minded manner.

Sighing softly, Larien finally admitted that she could not postpone the inevitable any longer. Besides... the sooner she began the sooner she could end, correct? Rising from the tub, the droplets rolling from her body in winding rivulets, the elven maiden wrapped herself in the provided sheet, rubbing down her long limbs until her skin glimmered with a hint of pink. Her hair still dripping across her shoulders, Larien moved from her privy and out into her bedroom, her eerily light green eyes immediately moving to the wardrobe which stood open, the hint of rich cloth peeking out from its interior. What did one wear when meeting with a strange man that they had just discovered was their long lost (well more like unknown) half-brother? Nipping lightly at her bottom lip, the she-elf went to stand before the wardrobe, opening it wider as she peered within, her fingers moving slowly across the gowns that presented themselves. One of her riding dresses? No, not suitable to the occasion. Her summer forestgreen dress? No, too casual. Her emerald evening gown? No, too formal. With a sound of exasperation, the maiden finally closed her eyes, plunging her hand into the shushing waves of fabric, mentally deciding that she would wear the first one she touched.

When she opened her eyes again to view which one she had picked, Larien couldn't help but smile. It was perfect.

Emerging from her room some time later, the she-elf moved with all the grace and poise of her race. Indeed, she looked the very part of the young noblewoman - despite the fact that she rarely felt as if she fit the part: Her lithe form was wrapped in a gown of light blue silk of a simple yet elegant cut. The squared neckline managed to modestly reveal a rather enticing expanse of her pale flesh while actually revealing nothing. A panel of blue brocade, embroidered with silver thread, met with straight skirts that hugged the maiden's slender curves before cascading lightly down to her slippered feet. The only jewelry she wore was upon her right wrist - a silver Deh'saram knot with moonstones set into it. Her auburn locks - still damp, though rather far from being truly wet - shimmered darkly as they fanned out over her shoulders. Larien!

The maiden turned her head slightly to see the young elven man striding towards her, looking quite a bit happier... and cleaner. "Eladrian," she responded smoothly with a small smile. I'm as rested as I will get, the bath was most rejuvenating. I am at your service. Repressing the urge the giggle - At my service? - Larien gave the other another smile before nodding towards the staircase at the other end of the hallway. "Well we can walk about the Cheb if you'd like... and talk." Starting slowly down the hall, her slippered feet silent upon the carpet, the young woman added as if to herself: "We have much to talk about." But where to begin? There was so much she wanted to ask him. So much she wanted to tell him. But suddenly, the maiden found herself to be quite tongue-tied.

Easiest to start with the most obvious she supposed. "So... you are... my brother?" There, she had said it. It was out there in the open, shivering, taunting, teasing. Brother. It was a word she never uttered, never having any reason to utter it. The closest thing she'd ever had to a brother had been her dear cousin Motito. And he was dead. Gasping softly against the pain that thought always brought - why did she keep thinking it?! - Larien swallowed heavily, trying to bring moisture back to her suddenly dry mouth. "My mother," she began again, her voice soft as she spoke words that rarely ever left her lips. For who wanted to admit they were a bastard? "My mother did not tell me for a long time. And when she did... she had not known his name. Only that he possessed a pair of strange green eyes." Smiling wryly, she glanced towards Eladrian, her own strange green eyes sparkling into his. "I did not know the full truth until my... our cousin Motito came to find me, searching for the long lost daughter of Quinnor. He had heard rumor of a young elven woman with strange green eyes around Natura - my home town - and when he arrived... there was no denying my parentage." Though Larien lacked the physical traits that normally marked the Gil'daes - platinum hair and quicksilver eyes - there was still obviously something about her that marked her for one of them. Once she had even been recognized as a cousin of Motito by her appearance alone. That had to be something right? Perhaps the set of her nose, or her eyes, or maybe even the shape of her lips? There was something there, some family resemblance... and she bore it proudly, even though she wasn't entirely aware of what it was.

Looking about her, Larien found that they were at the bottom of the staircase, standing within the entrance hall once more. Hmmm, where she should she take Eladrian first? To wander the halls? To the library perhaps? No, somewhere better... a candid and pure smile touched the young woman's lips as she suddenly turned to the other, her eyes dancing. "Come with me," she murmured excitedly, taking her brother's hand in hers before hurrying towards the far end of the entrance hall where a lavish foray stood, welcoming any and all. But Larien did not linger long there, instead turning to the left, heading towards the gaping entrance to a tunnel. "Do not be frightened," she reassured the other before leading him through the entrance and into a damp passageway of smooth stone, emerald moss clinging to the walls and ceiling. The tunnel was of the purest green and as the pair passed deeper within, the ground began to tilt slightly, hinting that they were traveling downwards, underground Starshadow Keep. After what was many moments of traveling though, the tunnel finally melted away to reveal one of the Gil'dae's greatest treasures - Quicksilver Hall.

Cool air blasted through. Pillars fifty feet high reached up to grope the dirt and stone ceiling. Roots had coiled down the stone carvings, and some have great hanging gardens blanketing over a clear pool of crystalline water. Laughingwater flowed into this pool, and in this pool was a small canoe, able to fit no more then four. One could easily paddle up the Laughingwater to another location along it if desired, though deeper in was a small grate that would have to be lifted to allow one to pass through to the main flow of Laughingwater... Almost identical in design to a similar location in Moonwillow, this one however also contained tables with books, as well as a few instruments if any of the escapees wished to try their hand at one of them. Along the edge there are tables with incense, perfumes, and salves. Pillow piles litter the stone edges along the pool, and many several more plants shaped to be seating arrangements adorn the location.

Finally releasing the hand of the elven man, Larien stepped out into the hall, giggling and twirling about. One could not help but be happy when within the confines of the rather exotic location - and it was the young woman's favorite spot within the entire Cheb. Stepping lightly, she moved towards the tables, running her fingers across the books, strumming absentmindedly at the instruments. A great peace settled upon her heart, fueled by the gentle lapping of the water that echoed within the hall. Finally, she was ready to continue with her story. "I was reluctant at first - to come here I mean. To... to be a Gil'dae. I didn't know what that meant. I had always been a Calafalas... a simple country girl of Natura." Glancing towards Eladrian, she gave him a wry smile. "I was nothing more than a stablehand, a petty adventurer, and all of a sudden I was told that I was of noble blood? I'm sure you can imagine my... disbelief. But not only that. I couldn't grasp that they might want me to be a part of their family. A bastard. But they did," Larien paused for a moment, unable to continue as the memories of many fun-filled brightenings in the company of the Gil'daes flooded her thoughts. Frolicking with Katerynn in the Tawnleaf - the game they along with Tyav'ondo had played, flitting along the forest paths - Alicia's pregnancy, Eri'Lariel's kindness, Motito's... Motito's...

Clenching her jaw lightly, Larien cleared her throat before finally continuing. "And this is my home now, my family. I didn't know what family truly was before the Gil'daes..." Why was she telling him this? Why did she feel the need to lay her entire life story out before him? Well perhaps not her entire. She had not told him many things - many things that were entirely too personal to be uttered to a stranger, no matter the blood ties that existed - but she had told him more than she usually would have to a man she had just met.