Lumaris had never really been a wanderer and yet he had always been cursed with a wanderer’s heart. Perhaps it was because, after the death of his wife and parents, he never considered the Elven or Fae realms home. Or maybe, as his grandfather sent him from land to land, kingdom to kingdom, it was because he’d never stayed in one place for more than a year. Conceivably that was why it was Aelin, rather than a place, who had become his home. He found himself falling into the lilac and honeysuckle of her eyes, coming to rest each night with her scent in his nares and her head on his chest. Surrounded by the towering depths of her power, slumbering as it was, felt that he belonged. Wherever the ocean-winged mare went, he was sure to follow; for returning to her always felt like coming home.
It was with that mind-set that he looked upon their travels with an air of optimism, knowing that no matter how far they strayed from Edana, from Sovereign and Alanaris, he would never feel more at home than he did by Aelin’s side.
As though it were only yesterday, Lumaris could remember their first meeting upon the shores of Hesperia. The way the crowds had instinctively parted for Lumaris as they beheld his intimidating visage, felt the knee-weakening depths of his suffocating power. The way Aelin had wandered between them, a veritable angel gliding elegantly toward him. While others had shunned the steed she’d had the courage to approach him and the kindness to buy him a room out of her own purse. At first he had been but bemused that someone might talk to him, perhaps more than a little surprised by her innocent kindness. All those centuries in Alanaris and no one- not immortal warrior or lowly farmer, had ever showed him that sort of kindness. Those with more guts than sense treated him with disdain- King Durann’s beast. And those without- they cowered in their homes when the Circle wandered through, knowing they could level an entire city with little more than a blink if they so chose. And had done. More than once. To have someone so gentle, so fragile in comparison simply start up a conversation with him as though he were no more than her neighbour had been humbling.
Without hesitation he follows Aelin into the sun-lit glade, the tree leaves painted in hues of red as the sun passionately kissed the distant mountains. He might have once compared the colours to blood, a field soaked like the aftermath of a battle. And still his warrior’s soul was restless, unused to the peace after centuries of fighting. But Aelin’s tender presence calmed the fire in his heart and melted the ice that once encased him. A once renowned General neither mortal nor immortal could fell, brought low by the smile of an innocent woman. And he would have it no other way.
His gaze was bemused, yet filled with adoration as he beheld the innocence to her words and the playfulness behind them. “Of course,” he purred, inclining his head and flashing his brows as a gentle laugh accompanied it. They had been playing this game for months now; coy glances, intent guised behind joking statements, a flick of a tail here, the swat of her wing there, stealing moments in the night to simply enjoy their safety in silence. Alas, time had not been kind to them and it seemed as soon as one trial ended another tribulation began. Yet Lumaris was content to continue it, loathe to hurry or pressure Aelin when they had only just found some semblance of peace and balance. But, like hungry wolves, a certain word ate away at him. Mate. He knew it in his heart, and he believed Aelin knew it to, but neither had voiced it, despite how much Lumaris longed to do so.
“There is nowhere else I’d rather be,” he replied seriously, eyes gleaming bright with complete adoration as they met her purple and amber ones. “Though I’ll have you know I’m a Prince, not a scoundrel.” The mock disdain lacing his words was imbued with humour, gently running his prehensile tail against the back of her hocks teasingly.
“My ego,” he laughed, that collected smirk becoming a bark of true mirth, “I’d have you meet my sister and then see what you have to say about egos.” Like a candle flame the humour danced in the bi-coloured depths of his angular eyes, quietly fizzling out as he considered her softer statement. Gently, tentatively, he dips his head and presses his lips to her brow. “Home,” he breathes into her fur.
@Aelin <3
