Honey Drunk (March 3010) {Adelais}
Apr 4, 2018 19:27:14 GMT -5
Post by Swithin on Apr 4, 2018 19:27:14 GMT -5
“Can you understand me, Ginger? Because at least now I can understand you.”
“Of course I can understand you,” Swithin assured, watching as the torchlight of Irenburg vanished, leaving them again in darkness. Everything seemed dimmer now, and perhaps it was just his eyes adjusting to the night once more, or maybe it was the wisp of cloud sneaking over the valley.
“Fly…? But I’m not a bug! Why does everyone think I’m a bug? Is it my eyes? It must be my eyes. I don’t have wings, Ginger. How am I supposed to flyyyy?… No antennae.”
“Your eyes,” he repeated, having no real answer. “It must be your eyes. They're big, like the moon, and bright like the stars, and…” he held his breath for a moment, looking down at her. “Expressive,” he added thoughtfully.
Adelais was bending over now, swaying, about to topple, and Swithin caught her. “What are you--”
“One…two…well. I’m not a spider, either.”
“Ah, no, noooo...not a spider. Just my honey bee. You taste sweet. I could call you just honey, if you prefer it. You're sweeter than honey though. Sweeter than nectar,” he laughed. “Never a spider.” He grimaced himself at the thought, not fond of the creatures. “Maybe… maybe like a fairy...”
“We’re not flying. Do you have wings?”
“Does it look like I have wings?” Swithin laughed, holding her close to his side. She was going to fall. She was slipping further from him on her river of mead as the night wore on and he crossed his other arm over her to help hold her up, though it made them to walk even more awkwardly than before.
“If you stay with me, maybe we can both have wings,” he added.
He gave the darkened windows of Bjarr's house a passing glance as they walked past them, thought there was no sign that anyone inside was awake.
“Shhh...” he told her this time, the same way she had earlier shushed him near the healing hall. “That's Wyn's house there. We don't want to rise her from her barrow.”
They walked a few more paces, rounding the hill past the markets. The Golden Hall of Meduseld was reaching high above, and Swithin took Adelais higher on the uphill climb, reaching further still up the road which led toward it.
Once they were well beyond the home which he did not wish to disturb, he stopped in the street. “I wouldn't mind flying up there, you know. I've always loved the stars. Once there was a man who flew up, up, up, holding a gem as bright as the stars. He turned into one himself,” he pointed to a bright shining star, to the west. “There he is. Earendil they call him to the south. Yet here… Frige, they say. A woman. I don't know who it is truly. Maybe… maybe both. A man and woman, bound so closely together and shining the brighter for it. I wonder if we could fly up and meet them. Maybe we could be stars too,” he hummed happily.
Swithin looked down from the sky, to see Adelais still looking upward, and he leaned to kiss her upturned lips. They felt cool compared to earlier, and Swithin knew that he could start all over again with her, kissing her the way he had back beside the wall of the cobbler shop. The smooth skin of her neck under the moonlight was tempting, and he slid a hand up to touch her there, and cradle the back of her head.
Yet he should not; it was still winter in the air and the few clouds that had gathered in the sky were beginning to send down flurries yet again. Had it been a slight warmer out they would have been as mist, but these were frozen crystals, reflecting off the moonlight, and they seemed as tiny stars themselves beginning to surround them.
He had to get her home. With all the mead and brennevin, she was not going to feel how cold she was. His lips could not keep her fully warm as he wished they might.
“Through the stars, Laisa, this way,” he told her, laughing. About half way up the hill towards Meduseld, he turned to the left, following the far street that traced the cliff edge. He held Adelais tightly in arm, and walked with her all the way until he saw the warm glow of his parent's home ahead. Having had no sight nor sign of Adelais' house, he supposed this was it, and he paused with her before the door. “We're going to take a rest here, and get warm,” he told her, trying to make it sound as if they would continue onward to her Gran's house before too long, and hoping she would not panic over it still being missing. Of course it had not moved; she simply was confused.
Well, he planned to find it, but not this night. Hopefully she would sleep easily, and those apologies could be made to Gran in the morning.
“Of course I can understand you,” Swithin assured, watching as the torchlight of Irenburg vanished, leaving them again in darkness. Everything seemed dimmer now, and perhaps it was just his eyes adjusting to the night once more, or maybe it was the wisp of cloud sneaking over the valley.
“Fly…? But I’m not a bug! Why does everyone think I’m a bug? Is it my eyes? It must be my eyes. I don’t have wings, Ginger. How am I supposed to flyyyy?… No antennae.”
“Your eyes,” he repeated, having no real answer. “It must be your eyes. They're big, like the moon, and bright like the stars, and…” he held his breath for a moment, looking down at her. “Expressive,” he added thoughtfully.
Adelais was bending over now, swaying, about to topple, and Swithin caught her. “What are you--”
“One…two…well. I’m not a spider, either.”
“Ah, no, noooo...not a spider. Just my honey bee. You taste sweet. I could call you just honey, if you prefer it. You're sweeter than honey though. Sweeter than nectar,” he laughed. “Never a spider.” He grimaced himself at the thought, not fond of the creatures. “Maybe… maybe like a fairy...”
“We’re not flying. Do you have wings?”
“Does it look like I have wings?” Swithin laughed, holding her close to his side. She was going to fall. She was slipping further from him on her river of mead as the night wore on and he crossed his other arm over her to help hold her up, though it made them to walk even more awkwardly than before.
“If you stay with me, maybe we can both have wings,” he added.
He gave the darkened windows of Bjarr's house a passing glance as they walked past them, thought there was no sign that anyone inside was awake.
“Shhh...” he told her this time, the same way she had earlier shushed him near the healing hall. “That's Wyn's house there. We don't want to rise her from her barrow.”
They walked a few more paces, rounding the hill past the markets. The Golden Hall of Meduseld was reaching high above, and Swithin took Adelais higher on the uphill climb, reaching further still up the road which led toward it.
Once they were well beyond the home which he did not wish to disturb, he stopped in the street. “I wouldn't mind flying up there, you know. I've always loved the stars. Once there was a man who flew up, up, up, holding a gem as bright as the stars. He turned into one himself,” he pointed to a bright shining star, to the west. “There he is. Earendil they call him to the south. Yet here… Frige, they say. A woman. I don't know who it is truly. Maybe… maybe both. A man and woman, bound so closely together and shining the brighter for it. I wonder if we could fly up and meet them. Maybe we could be stars too,” he hummed happily.
Swithin looked down from the sky, to see Adelais still looking upward, and he leaned to kiss her upturned lips. They felt cool compared to earlier, and Swithin knew that he could start all over again with her, kissing her the way he had back beside the wall of the cobbler shop. The smooth skin of her neck under the moonlight was tempting, and he slid a hand up to touch her there, and cradle the back of her head.
Yet he should not; it was still winter in the air and the few clouds that had gathered in the sky were beginning to send down flurries yet again. Had it been a slight warmer out they would have been as mist, but these were frozen crystals, reflecting off the moonlight, and they seemed as tiny stars themselves beginning to surround them.
He had to get her home. With all the mead and brennevin, she was not going to feel how cold she was. His lips could not keep her fully warm as he wished they might.
“Through the stars, Laisa, this way,” he told her, laughing. About half way up the hill towards Meduseld, he turned to the left, following the far street that traced the cliff edge. He held Adelais tightly in arm, and walked with her all the way until he saw the warm glow of his parent's home ahead. Having had no sight nor sign of Adelais' house, he supposed this was it, and he paused with her before the door. “We're going to take a rest here, and get warm,” he told her, trying to make it sound as if they would continue onward to her Gran's house before too long, and hoping she would not panic over it still being missing. Of course it had not moved; she simply was confused.
Well, he planned to find it, but not this night. Hopefully she would sleep easily, and those apologies could be made to Gran in the morning.