The next morning, Adrian woke up at an early hour, sunlight pouring across the quilt bedcovering. Elara slept restlessly beside him, breathing untroubled, arm hanging loose on his chest. Empty-headed, he smiled, brushing aside a lock of hair from beside her forehead.It was the day he'd meet the rest of the village—those same villagers who'd left him when he'd most needed them. His chest was bound with nerves and resolve. He wasn't that same broken little boy who'd run from this place. And he wasn't going to approach them alone.Slipping out of bed carefully, Adrian dressed and headed downstairs, where the smell of fresh bread greeted him. Catherine was already bustling in the kitchen, her sleeves rolled up, a smile lighting her face when she saw him."You’re up early," she said, setting a plate down on the table."I couldn’t sleep much," he admitted, pulling out a chair.She nodded, comprehending. "Welcomed some of the villagers yesterday afternoon after you'd gone," Catherine gestur
Golden morning light streamed through Catherine's windows and kissed wooden floors. Elara drummed her fingers on the rim of her teacup while seated at the table. Adrian stood a few paces away from her, a sign of his frustration.It was to be their day, that day they had selected, that day they would share — the tiny, cherished miracle that lived within Elara. To voice it, to share it with another human, was both terrifying and thrilling."Maybe she'll cry," Elara chuckled to cover the void, a quivering smile spreading across her face.Adrian growled and backed away from her, his hands to the fronts of her shoulders. "She cried when she saw me yesterday. Wouldn't surprise me."Elara turned her face to look up at him. "Are you ready?"Adrian halted. Not that he wasn't thrilled — he was. But this was going for a life he'd never been foolish enough to dream for himself. Family. Duty. Hope."I'm ready if you are," he said at last, his fingers pressing into her shoulders with a gentle force
The following days melted into a sun-drenched haze of joy. Elara and Adrian's engagement was the subject of conversation in the village, and it spread like wildfire. Catherine's doorstep every day hosted new faces of guests—neighbors with gifts of small tokens of goodwill, bouquets of fresh flowers, fruit baskets, handmade work of exquisitely embroidered napkins, and even expertly made cradles for the baby of the near future.Elara was engulfed by the best kind of strangling. She had been so isolated, with nothing to converse with but her beasts, in the quiet of the forest that she stood there mute at this flood of care. But she was conscious of Adrian's hand holding on to the rigidity of his unyielding form.Adrian steered the adoration in a subdued aplomb. Even crowds still shaming him, even the wounds to his heart still smarting painfully when strangers spoke his name too loudly, he never let Elara escape from him. Every handshake, every hug, every well wish was reminder: they were
Their honeymoon evening, their very first ever was a most beloved dream suspended halfway between reality and fantasy.Arm in arm, Adrian and Elara returned through the meadows to Catherine's cottage, their footsteps unhindered and unencumbered. The sky was ablaze with stars in a lovely scattering of light, and the fading resounds of music and laughter from the village carnival still clung to them behind. But here, amidst this new stillness of the fields, there were but the two of them — wife and husband, bound together by vows spoken in hushed tones beneath the old oak.Adrian kept her a step or two away from the cottage, and with this arm around her waist, pulled her into his arms. In starlight, he looked at her face, too full to grunt out one word. With his thumb drawing along the line on the ridge of her cheek in gentle, light-feather motion, Elara gazed."Are you real?" he roughly demanded, as if he was afraid of waking to find this one of his bitter dreams.Elara smiled, the ski
The bridal-day romance that poured on afterward seeped into days like slow, iridescent fog.Adrian and Elara fell into such a smooth, easy pace, that they felt the universe had plotted to achieve this for them. The tiny cottage, that little nest of lonely silence for Elara before Adrian's arrival, resounded now with happy laughter, soft late-night conversation beside the firesides, and moments of deep wordless love.Adrian woke up every morning early, before the rest of the family. Then he'd discover that he was happy to just stay there, observing Elara sleeping next to him. Her chest moved with deep breaths, her hair a golden light over the pillow, her hand always naturally curled against where he was. He'd draw tiny patterns on her skin, memorizing every freckle, every curve, every scar that had shaped the woman who'd rescued him.Sometimes he questioned whether he had worked for any of it. If someone like him — a failure, sick, and alone — had indeed worked for such happiness. But
It came the next day, shrouded in pale mist. The fields far out beyond the cottage sparkled with silver mist, and the world was hushed, shut.Adrian had gotten up early, and couldn't sleep, a raw hurt of pain in his chest. Not scared, only — but a raw sensation that something huge had to be told, had to be told.He looked over at Elara, still wrapped in the quilt, her peaceful face sleeping. His heart ached with love. Regardless of how many mornings he had with her, he never got used to waking up with her. She was the best of every morning, the reminder that despite all the ugliness and hurt, he could be loved.He moved closer, drawing a kiss to her forehead then resting on the bed, slowly settling back onto it.Today there would be a difference.Today, he promised himself, he would show her something — something better than those smooth words of comfort or fumbling kisses. Something she would remember in years to come.Adrian settled into houses woods ahead of time, migrating until h
The morning after Adrian's sweet overture of honeyed words, sunlight seeped into the cottage, depositing a golden, warm glow on the wood floorboards. The fire had burned for hours earlier, but its heat lingered – in the quilt that kept them close, in the contours of Adrian's body pressed against Elara, and most of all, in the air between two people who had at last, fully selected each other.Elara woke, eyelids slitting over light. For what felt like forever, she listened only — to Adrian's quiet breathing beside her, to bird calls distant out there, to the quiet stillness of home. Her hand tightened reflexively, reaching for the ring still proudly on her finger, tangible proof that the previous night wasn't a fantasy.She turned over, her eyes on him.His sleeping face no longer creased with the pain and self-loathing she'd witnessed daily in his eyes. His face still carried a shadow of loss, perhaps always would — scars took more than a day to heal — but love had tempered him. He wa
Dawn the following morning, and a gentle mist drifted between the trees, wrapping the cottage in sleeping tranquility. Adrian stood on the edge of the garden, fists at the pockets of his coat, looking east. Beyond those hills was his old world — his world that he had abandoned, his world that had cast him out.He sensed Elara before she spoke a word."You sure you want to do it today?" she inquired softly, striding over to stand next to him, wrapped in a scarf at her throat and holding a teapot.Adrian nodded slowly, his gaze still elsewhere. "Yes. I think I will. If I don't do it today, I'll never get a chance to break free."Elara didn't prod him. She just held out the tea and wrapped her arms around his shoulder. "Then we'll go, then. You don't have to do any of this by yourself."She'd said it before — in words, if not necessarily exactly in words, on days, however many — but every time she spoke the words, something new and whole itself together inside of him.By late morning the
Dawn the following morning, and a gentle mist drifted between the trees, wrapping the cottage in sleeping tranquility. Adrian stood on the edge of the garden, fists at the pockets of his coat, looking east. Beyond those hills was his old world — his world that he had abandoned, his world that had cast him out.He sensed Elara before she spoke a word."You sure you want to do it today?" she inquired softly, striding over to stand next to him, wrapped in a scarf at her throat and holding a teapot.Adrian nodded slowly, his gaze still elsewhere. "Yes. I think I will. If I don't do it today, I'll never get a chance to break free."Elara didn't prod him. She just held out the tea and wrapped her arms around his shoulder. "Then we'll go, then. You don't have to do any of this by yourself."She'd said it before — in words, if not necessarily exactly in words, on days, however many — but every time she spoke the words, something new and whole itself together inside of him.By late morning the
The morning after Adrian's sweet overture of honeyed words, sunlight seeped into the cottage, depositing a golden, warm glow on the wood floorboards. The fire had burned for hours earlier, but its heat lingered – in the quilt that kept them close, in the contours of Adrian's body pressed against Elara, and most of all, in the air between two people who had at last, fully selected each other.Elara woke, eyelids slitting over light. For what felt like forever, she listened only — to Adrian's quiet breathing beside her, to bird calls distant out there, to the quiet stillness of home. Her hand tightened reflexively, reaching for the ring still proudly on her finger, tangible proof that the previous night wasn't a fantasy.She turned over, her eyes on him.His sleeping face no longer creased with the pain and self-loathing she'd witnessed daily in his eyes. His face still carried a shadow of loss, perhaps always would — scars took more than a day to heal — but love had tempered him. He wa
It came the next day, shrouded in pale mist. The fields far out beyond the cottage sparkled with silver mist, and the world was hushed, shut.Adrian had gotten up early, and couldn't sleep, a raw hurt of pain in his chest. Not scared, only — but a raw sensation that something huge had to be told, had to be told.He looked over at Elara, still wrapped in the quilt, her peaceful face sleeping. His heart ached with love. Regardless of how many mornings he had with her, he never got used to waking up with her. She was the best of every morning, the reminder that despite all the ugliness and hurt, he could be loved.He moved closer, drawing a kiss to her forehead then resting on the bed, slowly settling back onto it.Today there would be a difference.Today, he promised himself, he would show her something — something better than those smooth words of comfort or fumbling kisses. Something she would remember in years to come.Adrian settled into houses woods ahead of time, migrating until h
The bridal-day romance that poured on afterward seeped into days like slow, iridescent fog.Adrian and Elara fell into such a smooth, easy pace, that they felt the universe had plotted to achieve this for them. The tiny cottage, that little nest of lonely silence for Elara before Adrian's arrival, resounded now with happy laughter, soft late-night conversation beside the firesides, and moments of deep wordless love.Adrian woke up every morning early, before the rest of the family. Then he'd discover that he was happy to just stay there, observing Elara sleeping next to him. Her chest moved with deep breaths, her hair a golden light over the pillow, her hand always naturally curled against where he was. He'd draw tiny patterns on her skin, memorizing every freckle, every curve, every scar that had shaped the woman who'd rescued him.Sometimes he questioned whether he had worked for any of it. If someone like him — a failure, sick, and alone — had indeed worked for such happiness. But
Their honeymoon evening, their very first ever was a most beloved dream suspended halfway between reality and fantasy.Arm in arm, Adrian and Elara returned through the meadows to Catherine's cottage, their footsteps unhindered and unencumbered. The sky was ablaze with stars in a lovely scattering of light, and the fading resounds of music and laughter from the village carnival still clung to them behind. But here, amidst this new stillness of the fields, there were but the two of them — wife and husband, bound together by vows spoken in hushed tones beneath the old oak.Adrian kept her a step or two away from the cottage, and with this arm around her waist, pulled her into his arms. In starlight, he looked at her face, too full to grunt out one word. With his thumb drawing along the line on the ridge of her cheek in gentle, light-feather motion, Elara gazed."Are you real?" he roughly demanded, as if he was afraid of waking to find this one of his bitter dreams.Elara smiled, the ski
The following days melted into a sun-drenched haze of joy. Elara and Adrian's engagement was the subject of conversation in the village, and it spread like wildfire. Catherine's doorstep every day hosted new faces of guests—neighbors with gifts of small tokens of goodwill, bouquets of fresh flowers, fruit baskets, handmade work of exquisitely embroidered napkins, and even expertly made cradles for the baby of the near future.Elara was engulfed by the best kind of strangling. She had been so isolated, with nothing to converse with but her beasts, in the quiet of the forest that she stood there mute at this flood of care. But she was conscious of Adrian's hand holding on to the rigidity of his unyielding form.Adrian steered the adoration in a subdued aplomb. Even crowds still shaming him, even the wounds to his heart still smarting painfully when strangers spoke his name too loudly, he never let Elara escape from him. Every handshake, every hug, every well wish was reminder: they were
Golden morning light streamed through Catherine's windows and kissed wooden floors. Elara drummed her fingers on the rim of her teacup while seated at the table. Adrian stood a few paces away from her, a sign of his frustration.It was to be their day, that day they had selected, that day they would share — the tiny, cherished miracle that lived within Elara. To voice it, to share it with another human, was both terrifying and thrilling."Maybe she'll cry," Elara chuckled to cover the void, a quivering smile spreading across her face.Adrian growled and backed away from her, his hands to the fronts of her shoulders. "She cried when she saw me yesterday. Wouldn't surprise me."Elara turned her face to look up at him. "Are you ready?"Adrian halted. Not that he wasn't thrilled — he was. But this was going for a life he'd never been foolish enough to dream for himself. Family. Duty. Hope."I'm ready if you are," he said at last, his fingers pressing into her shoulders with a gentle force
The next morning, Adrian woke up at an early hour, sunlight pouring across the quilt bedcovering. Elara slept restlessly beside him, breathing untroubled, arm hanging loose on his chest. Empty-headed, he smiled, brushing aside a lock of hair from beside her forehead.It was the day he'd meet the rest of the village—those same villagers who'd left him when he'd most needed them. His chest was bound with nerves and resolve. He wasn't that same broken little boy who'd run from this place. And he wasn't going to approach them alone.Slipping out of bed carefully, Adrian dressed and headed downstairs, where the smell of fresh bread greeted him. Catherine was already bustling in the kitchen, her sleeves rolled up, a smile lighting her face when she saw him."You’re up early," she said, setting a plate down on the table."I couldn’t sleep much," he admitted, pulling out a chair.She nodded, comprehending. "Welcomed some of the villagers yesterday afternoon after you'd gone," Catherine gestur
The morning was clear and bright, a piercing contrast to the previous night. Adrian perched on top of the little kitchen table, thumb tracing Catherine's letter between his fingers. He hadn't slept, his mind racing too hard to permit him. Elara, always in tune with him even when asleep, stirred and sat beside him at the table, and pushed a hot cup of tea over to him."Your mind's been made up, has it?" she panted, voice heavy with sleep even now.Adrian nodded. "I have to go to her. I have to go see my people. Not because I owe them anything. But because. I think I must."Elara's hand on his, holding him back. "Then come with me."He looked at her, shock washing over him once more. Wherever this path took them, Elara would be there. Always.With the sun in their faces, they had stuffed into a small pouch provisions one would need. Adrian remained in the doorway, not actually hesitating to unzip it and emerge into the world that had spurned him before. This time, he did not go out alo