#tanrae

“But?”

“I may as well go for a run, see how Iltheria is doing…”

“During the middle of the day?”

“Well, why not?”

“Were you ever really as disciplined as you ever showed? Or was that all an act?”

“Doesn’t it take discipline to act with discipline?”

“Wise words. You win this one.”

“This time.”

“Shall I give Iltheria any messages?”

“The same as always, love.”

“Love? I’ve graduated to that now?”

“Islesun.”

“Ahhhhh… there it is. I’m off then, before you kick my ass out the door.”

“Shame. I thought you liked that sort of thing.”

“Depends on the day. I’ll be back.”

“Ithanar.”

“Yes?”

“Maybe not so gray after all.”

“Like I said… off-white.”

She’s asked this before, but… he knows she enjoys his answer every time.

“What she’s like now? You know, Iltheria.”

“You see her almost every day.”

“I don’t mean here. I mean… well, you know… out there.”

The old elf decides to indulge her.

“When she has to be a badass?”

“The badass, you mean?”

She wears her armor like a second skin, lips held in a sneer and blue-on-blue gaze focused as she brings her blade on top of a foe’s head. There’s no waiting, no reluctance in her movements as she continues her stride toward the enemy.

No stopping now. The thought doesn’t enter her mind.

Fingers find purchase on the handgrip of her blade, and then tighten, flexing once… twice… and then no more. Her heart beats a little faster, rhythm a tad bit more complex and out of place with the sound of Amani drums.

She purges the fear from her mind.

She doesn’t need to face herself, no, she doesn’t need to face her own fears.

There are already enough enemies to deal with.

Tanrae descends into the void.

Time to break (others).

“Language.”

“Oh please.”

“You have your mother’s sass, you know.”

“I feel like some of that came from you.”

She isn’t wrong.

“Maybe just a little.”

“So… mother, what is she like? When…”

“When she’s out there like a knight in shining armor?”

“That fantastic?”

“As fantastic as anything I’ve ever seen. Your mother… she doesn’t mess around, she doesn’t…”

“Doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer?”

“It can be difficult. She’s stubborn, she’s hard-headed as can be…”

“But you love it, don’t you?”

“Takes one to know one, Iltheria. Your mother’s uncompromising…”

There’s a bit of laughter, full and warm.

“She trained you, didn’t she?”

“Yes, yes, she did.”

“She’s told me some stories.”

“Like how I was foolish? Unconvinced? Stubborn?”

“You were kind of an-”

“Asshole? Yes, something like that.”  

“And how many more times, Islesun, must we run this? How many more times?”

She doesn’t care for his aching muscles, his tired bones, his feet which feel like they’re on fire from hours of drills, of moving across the training mat. No, she wants him to do it again… and again… and again…

Practice makes perfect.

“Are you going to answer the question or-?”

“As many damn times as you’d like.”

She smiles wide and brandishes her practice blade in response.

“You’re damn right you are, Islesun.”

She isn’t wrong… still.  

“I still am.”

“Don’t be like that, Father.”

“Still can be.”

“What does she like to say?”

“... ‘That’s better’?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Oh, you are just full of it today, aren’t you?”

“As much as I can be.”

“You still love her after all these years, don’t you?”

It had been a damn long time since she had seen him, and he had seen her. Neither of them had expected it, neither of them had expected the idea that feelings for each other would be reciprocated in such a manner…

But here they were, sharing a bed with a glass of wine, laughing and smiling.

Any war-torn nature these two had displayed, their ferociousness, their stubbornness… in this moment it was gone, replaced by a certain vulnerability neither had felt in… ages.

Tanrae remembers saying his name… his first name.

Ithanar.

It’s perhaps the first time she’s ever uttered it. She knows it won’t be the last, it can’t be.

But she also knows the reason why she never said it before.

Love.

She hates to admit it, to say it out loud… but even she can’t deny it.

She knows Ithanar can’t either.

Fel, he did call her by her first name.

Didn’t he?

“What do you think?”

“Sass…”

Again, she isn’t wrong.

“Fine, fine, fine. What do you think the answer is?”

“Of course you do.”

“Yes.”

“You wait for her to come home.”

“She does the same for me. I can’t see it any other way.”

“Good.”

“Iltheria…”

“Yes?”

“You and your mother… Tanrae… you two are the most important things in my life.”

A pause.

“You always will be.”

It’s quiet in bed, but they wouldn’t have it any other way, a tangle of limbs and bodies, smiles all around.

Old smiles, but beautiful ones.

“Quiet day?”

“Something like that.”

“Damn lazy bones, aren’t you?”

“I missed you.”

“Misdirection. A good tactic, but that won’t work on me.”

“Could use more physical methods.”

“Easy there, old elf. Wouldn’t want to-”

“If you say ‘throw out my back’... I’m not that old, Tanrae. Fel, you’re older-”

“More ‘experienced’ than you, thank you very much.”

“Funny, aren’t you?”

“I love you, Ithanar.”

It wasn’t always this easy to say it.

“Me? Really?”

“Yes, you ass.”

“I love you too, Tanrae. Always.”