The Silent Path {November 3011} {Adanedhel}
Mar 30, 2019 22:57:46 GMT -5
Post by ELIRA on Mar 30, 2019 22:57:46 GMT -5
Elira waited as the elf departed, watching him go as her mind felt yet in a strange, sweet haze from the dark, swirling waters, and her fingers curled against the trunk of a gnarled tree as she stood just where Adanedhel had instructed. She might have disobeyed and followed him, or gone about to collect her own vials, but he had seemed so certain and confident. And in truth, it had seemed almost a necessity upon his face that he must be the one to tread back toward the sweet stream.
She did not realize how long he took in coming away from the waters for her own mind was distorted, and weary, even as he pulled upon her hand and led her back toward the elvenkings halls and through the gates of the city. The waters beneath the underground city wove through the halls as they crossed over bridges and through the tunnels, and though Adanedhel had long been quiet, he spoke again.
“Elira whatever is going on with these vials of water and the bag, know that you can tell me. I do not know why it is such a secret, but I worry for you. I... care about you.”
The sound seemed almost distorted to her ears, and Elira looked to him and shook her head, a finger to her lips. “Chhh...” she hushed, but she squeezed his hand. “Too loud, Adan.” Nonetheless, they came to her chambers, and the elleth pushed open the door. A glance toward Adanedhel, and an arched brow. They had not been within the private quarters of one another in some time now, but Elira did not feel unsettled. The purple perfume was still within her mind, and she felt as if she were dreaming when she moved the vials carefully to the cabinet at the other end.
“You use sword. Bow. Daggers,” Elira finally spoke as she was lining up the small vials within the cabinet, the liquid lightly purple tinged against they stark pale grey stone of the walls. “I not know how to fight. I have other weapon, for protection.” A wave of her fingers toward the roots hanging and drying, soon to be ground into powder. Wild hemlock. “Convulse.”
She pointed toward a jar filled with dried dark black berries. Deadly belladonna “Paralyze.”
Motioning to dried leaves of snakeroot. “Make blood… hm… hot,” she said, not knowing the elvish word for acidic.
A little glass jar filled with beans, and she lifted it and peered within. Simple castor beans. “Eat and… dead.”
A wooden bowl of bright red peas she shook next. “Eat this and… slow death. Four days.”
Elira motioned toward the rest of the plants on her her shelves. Drying, hanging from the ceiling in little clusters. “All weapon,” she said simply. “Like your knife… but mine more… sneak. And this…” A pale purple vial of the water lifted again, and Elira uncorked it, the smell intoxicating to her. “Sleep… long sleep. I take long sleep, before, when I fall in. Mel bring me out, but I sleep long. Days… water seem… stronger now… hm? Stronger or just my mind. Some say spider poison in river.” The fumes were eeking out of the vial and she brought it to Adan. “See, there is no need for worry, the are only weapon.”
“Smell sweet...” holding it beneath his nose, and then she corked the vial again and turned to set it aside with the others, standing and gripping at the wall for a moment before she turned back to Adan. “Make me weary… walk like dreaming and…” She shook her head as if dazed. “You weary too? You want stay, stay here? Stay and rest awhile? ” Asking her question as she approached the elf again and gripped at his tunic, and then flattened her palm against Adanedhel’s chest. “Stay with me, hm? Lay down with me. You smell sweet, like my river.” Elira rose up to kiss the raven haired elf, her fingers moving to brush lightly against the back of his neck and weave through the dark strands falling over his shoulders. She wound her fingers in the hair and brought it nearer her face, watching him as she did so, and then she buried her nose in the strands, smirking. “So nice...”
She did not realize how long he took in coming away from the waters for her own mind was distorted, and weary, even as he pulled upon her hand and led her back toward the elvenkings halls and through the gates of the city. The waters beneath the underground city wove through the halls as they crossed over bridges and through the tunnels, and though Adanedhel had long been quiet, he spoke again.
“Elira whatever is going on with these vials of water and the bag, know that you can tell me. I do not know why it is such a secret, but I worry for you. I... care about you.”
The sound seemed almost distorted to her ears, and Elira looked to him and shook her head, a finger to her lips. “Chhh...” she hushed, but she squeezed his hand. “Too loud, Adan.” Nonetheless, they came to her chambers, and the elleth pushed open the door. A glance toward Adanedhel, and an arched brow. They had not been within the private quarters of one another in some time now, but Elira did not feel unsettled. The purple perfume was still within her mind, and she felt as if she were dreaming when she moved the vials carefully to the cabinet at the other end.
“You use sword. Bow. Daggers,” Elira finally spoke as she was lining up the small vials within the cabinet, the liquid lightly purple tinged against they stark pale grey stone of the walls. “I not know how to fight. I have other weapon, for protection.” A wave of her fingers toward the roots hanging and drying, soon to be ground into powder. Wild hemlock. “Convulse.”
She pointed toward a jar filled with dried dark black berries. Deadly belladonna “Paralyze.”
Motioning to dried leaves of snakeroot. “Make blood… hm… hot,” she said, not knowing the elvish word for acidic.
A little glass jar filled with beans, and she lifted it and peered within. Simple castor beans. “Eat and… dead.”
A wooden bowl of bright red peas she shook next. “Eat this and… slow death. Four days.”
Elira motioned toward the rest of the plants on her her shelves. Drying, hanging from the ceiling in little clusters. “All weapon,” she said simply. “Like your knife… but mine more… sneak. And this…” A pale purple vial of the water lifted again, and Elira uncorked it, the smell intoxicating to her. “Sleep… long sleep. I take long sleep, before, when I fall in. Mel bring me out, but I sleep long. Days… water seem… stronger now… hm? Stronger or just my mind. Some say spider poison in river.” The fumes were eeking out of the vial and she brought it to Adan. “See, there is no need for worry, the are only weapon.”
“Smell sweet...” holding it beneath his nose, and then she corked the vial again and turned to set it aside with the others, standing and gripping at the wall for a moment before she turned back to Adan. “Make me weary… walk like dreaming and…” She shook her head as if dazed. “You weary too? You want stay, stay here? Stay and rest awhile? ” Asking her question as she approached the elf again and gripped at his tunic, and then flattened her palm against Adanedhel’s chest. “Stay with me, hm? Lay down with me. You smell sweet, like my river.” Elira rose up to kiss the raven haired elf, her fingers moving to brush lightly against the back of his neck and weave through the dark strands falling over his shoulders. She wound her fingers in the hair and brought it nearer her face, watching him as she did so, and then she buried her nose in the strands, smirking. “So nice...”