Chapter Text
Things began to cool off after that day; at least Lenore thought they did.
He began seeing Lucilla more often, granted never really alone. Oftentimes it was Maieron, Rhea, or the both of them, delighted that he had resolved things with her, dragging him out to get-togethers, shopping trips, coffee dates, among other things.
It wasn’t as though Lenore particularly minded, it felt good for once, to get outside, to not be alone with his thoughts. He would sneak out of Haüynevalley when his mother was working, or simply holed up in her office, and when he got home he’d deal with a slap to the face, or a threat of no dinner; a two-week grounding period or being tasked with all the cleaning of the house. It didn’t matter; he’d dealt with every punishment his mother could throw at him, and worse.
Part of him didn’t want to admit that facing his mother was nothing compared to how it felt to simply be with people his age, didn’t want to admit how freeing it felt to simply sit there and listen to them talk about nothing, or gossip about this or that.
Another part of him didn’t want to admit how much he wanted to be around her.
It wasn’t something he had noticed immediately, but with time it had revealed itself; how the atmosphere felt lighter when she was around, how it felt when she looked at him, or asked him something directly, how she laughed when he stuttered.
At first, he had told himself it was simply the feeling of making a new friend; after all, he hadn’t done that since Maieron had introduced Rhea when they were both ten years old. He told himself that meeting Rhea had been similar; he’d been awkward around her, hadn’t known what to say, and eventually warmed up to them and saw them as a good friend. He couldn’t deny, however, that being around Lucilla felt different. Not good, not bad, just different.
He started to know her, not just know about her. He learned that her favorite color was purple, because it reminded her of irises and violets in the summer at Oceanmire. And that she spent most of her time reading when she was home, especially romantic stories; she said that reading about love made her feel less alone when it was just her and her parents. He learned that she loved the sound of the ocean, that her father used to take her to swim in the shallows when she was little; and that she preferred sweet things over savory things.
She'd begun asking him things, too; another thing he hadn't dealt with in years. It felt like going through an old routine, like bringing his father's cow herds into a pasture they hadn't seen since last spring. She'd ask this or that about his home, or his family, and he'd mutter something vague that earned him a look from Maieron. It was different with Maieron, though. Lenore shared everything with him, things he wouldn't want anyone else knowing.
Either way, it didn't matter to him. He could stand to answer a few questions; it wasn't like Lucilla would even be his friend for long. She would get to know him, realize what she was in for, and leave. That's how it was, and he was alright with that.
". . . Your home, Lenore?" He looked up from where he'd been staring into his drink.
"What?" He glanced between Lucilla and Rhea, both now staring at him expectantly. Lucilla dabbed at the corner of her mouth with a napkin, before folding her hands neatly on the table. They were at one of the smaller coffee houses in Mysterium; a good day to be out, Lenore supposed. The sun was shining but it wasn't too hot; the sky was blue; they were in the height of summer.
"I asked, what's the name of your home?" Lenore didn't say anything until Maieron elbowed him in the ribs from where he was seated beside him. He cast a glance at his friend, who was staring back at him with a look that seemed to say, stop staring like an idiot. He sighed.
"Uh. . Haüynevalley. It's. . pretty far from here." He shrugged.
"Ah. Just you and your parents?"
"Me and my mother, yes." He didn't bother to mention old Omar Erena, his grandfather.
"You've no father, then?"
"No." He looked down at the wood grain of the table; hopefully the message was clear, there wouldn't be any further elaboration. Lucilla was silent for a few seconds.
"Ah. I see. ."
She turned back to Rhea; easily continued chatting. Maieron kicked Lenore's leg from under the table; Lenore glared at him.
"Would it kill you to be a little more amicable towards others?" That night, Maieron had climbed through Lenore's window— without the knowledge of his mother or Maieron's— and paced his floor for twenty minutes or so, berating him for how he'd acted towards Lucilla the past few weeks.
"I mean, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you still hated her."
Lenore rolled his eyes, "I don't hate her I just. . ." He vaguely gestured around the room with one arm. Maieron stopped pacing to look at Lenore skeptically. He put his hands on his hips.
"Just what?" Lenore shifted uncomfortably.
". . I don't know."
Maieron gazed at him expectantly before his eyes widened in realization. He gained that look, the look Lenore hated most.
"You like her, don't you?" Lenore crossed his arms, feeling heat creep up his face.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"I knew it!" Maieron pumped his fists in the air excitedly, "For how long?"
"I don't like her! Not. . not like that; obviously she's cool, I'm fine with her- she's just. . just. ."
Maieron grinned from ear to ear; it was infuriating, "Just. . . pretty? An awesome person? Loads of fun? The love of your life-?"
"Will you quit with that already?" He shot up from his bed and shoved Maieron into the vanity. The other boy simply laughed and ruffled Lenore's hair, pushing him back lightly.
"Come, now, you know I'm only teasing." Lenore rolled his eyes, went back to his bed and flopped down on it. He let out a long sigh. Maieron glanced at him, probably waiting for him to say something. Lenore didn't really want to give him that satisfaction. The silence, however, eventually became unbearable.
". . . It isn't like she would like me like that anyway." He rested an arm over his face.
I can't believe I just said that.
"I knew it," Maieron repeated quietly. "And. . what makes you think that?" Lenore almost laughed.
"Man, look at me." He put both his arms out in front of him, looking up at the two swirling tattoos on the backs of his hands and winced involuntarily.
"Len, don't say that." He tilted his head up to see Maieron gazing at him with that dumb disappointed expression he got whenever Lenore spoke the truth.
"Those dumb tattoos don't mean anything. They were just your mom's twisted idea of help. Stop letting them make decisions for you."
"I'm not letting them make decisions for me, I'm just being rational." He rolled over onto his stomach, "She's probably already got her eye on someone else anyway."
"And, have you tried. . Oh, I don't know. . . Just asking her?" Lenore stared at him incredulously.
"Are you serious? I think I'd actually die if I tried something like that."
Maieron crossed his arms and spread his feet apart until he looked like a drunken commander on a battlefield, "If you don't tell her, I will."
Lenore scoffed, "Sure, like she'd ever believe that from you."
"Wouldn't she?" Lenore got an uneasy feeling from how confident Maieron sounded just then. How long had he known Lucilla in comparison to Lenore? Had he ever asked? He never recalled Maieron telling him. He stood and strode towards Maieron, likewise crossing his arms and looking him in the eye.
"You wouldn't." Maieron smirked.
"Oh, but I would," he countered.
Lenore turned, shaking his head as he sat back down on his bed, "You're full of it, you know that?"
"Gah, come on Len! What's the worst that's gonna happen? So she says no, worst case scenario! That's not the end of the world! You know I got rejected by like five elves that I'm still great friends with!"
Lenore sighed, "Yeah, but that's you, though. We're talking about me." Maieron groaned, running his hands down his face.
"If you don't tell her at some point, I will be making good on my threat," He wheeled around and fell down onto the bed next to Lenore. "There's absolutely no way I'm letting this go now."
Aside from the conversation on that night, not much changed. Or, Lenore wanted to believe nothing had changed. He would still see Lucilla from time to time, but it was only ever with either Maieron and/or Rhea around as well and he still spent most of his time with Maieron anyway, or by himself.
Every so often, Maireron would shoot him a dirty look or two, If you don't tell her, I will. Lenore would get him back later by pinching his arm or punching his shoulder. Eventually Rhea took notice, Maieron told her, and Lenore had to endure the same humiliating conversation in his bedroom only a few weeks after the first one. Suddenly, Rhea and Maieron were much too busy to go out with Lenore. Suddenly, he'd leap to whatever venue they'd agreed on only to find Lucilla there by herself with neither Maieron nor Rhea anywhere to be seen. They would talk then, just the two of them, however awkward it felt, and then they'd both go home.
On one such occasion, he offhandedly mentioned the cow herds he looked after at home, the ones that belonged to his father. Lucilla latched onto that; he'd noticed she tended to latch onto certain things.
"You have cows?"
"Uh. . yeah. Highlanders."
"Ugh, lucky. I've begged my parents to let me get a pet and they always say no."
"Well. . . they aren't really pets but. . yeah, I guess it is nice." He shrugged, "It feels good to have a routine, something I can do easily. And- I like taking care of them, and. . I guess it's nice going out in the early morning to check on them, because then the sky is all sorts of pretty colors and it's quiet and peaceful and. . ." He trailed off, only stopping when he became very aware that Lucilla was totally and utterly silent. He looked over at her, to see her eyes wide in what was either interest or disbelief; and at present, he couldn't tell which.
"Uh- sorry." She snapped awake.
"What? No! It's- Sorry, the way you describe it just sounds so wonderful." She sighed, pulling her legs up to her chest and resting her chin against her knees.
"I'd give anything to see something like that, it sounds beautiful."
Which was when something sprouted in Lenore's chest, something small and barely there, but it was there. A small idea, or a feeling, he couldn't tell which.
He didn't actually do anything about it for a few weeks, which felt like torture for some reason. Then it just. . happened. He woke up at four in the morning, as he did when he needed to check on the cows. It was still dark outside. Stars still blinked in the evening sky; there was only the thinnest most miss-able little ring of deep navy blue around the horizon, hinting at the coming dawn.
He sat up, got dressed, and crept down the hall towards his mothers office, as he'd done thousands of times before. Light steps, no sudden movements, breathing shallow. He knew the combination to the lock, knew the drawer where her starstones were kept, what few there were. He knew which one led to Oceanmire.
He'd forgotten how very large the property was, after all he hadn't been on the property since that first house party. He jogged towards the direction of the house (better to call it a palace, really) and scaled the gate easily, he stole quietly through the courtyard before pacing the walls themselves. That was a great time to realize he had no idea which window might've been Lucilla's.
On one side of the house, there was a considerably large balcony facing the ocean. It was an ornately carved structure, with silk curtains protecting the interior. Likely her parent's room, not hers.
On the back side of the house there was another similar, though smaller balcony, daintier in appearance, the curtains slightly sheer rather than opaque silk. Probably the better bet.
He dug up a small pebble from the ground, praying the dim light from the window meant she wasn't asleep. He took aim, wheeled back and threw the small rock up past the wall and over the balcony. He heard a ping! as it rang against what he assumed was a door behind the curtains, to keep the wind out.
He waited quietly. Eventually, a faint shadow obscured some of the light from the window. A door clicked open, there was a figure on the balcony.
". . . Lucilla?" He called to her as discreetly as possible. There was a very long pause. A second past, five, ten.
"Lenore?"
He perked up, "Yeah! Come on! Come down; we're going to miss it!"
"I- you- miss what? What are you doing here?"
"The sunrise- the- the cows. The-" He waved his arms around trying to convey that singular conversation they'd had all those weeks ago. There was silence from the other elf.
He watched her back away from the balcony, heard the door shut, saw the light turn off. Then, he turned on his heels and began to trek back to where he'd climbed the gate.
What had I been expecting? That she'd even remember talking about that? That she was even being genuine? Get a hold of yourself.
He trudged past the front door and looked up at the gate, trying to pinpoint where he'd gotten in from.
"Where are you going?"
Lenore wheeled around to find a very awake Lucilla shutting the front door behind her, an impressive feat considering that those doors were very heavy and quite large. He breathed out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, which almost hurt.
"I thought you went to bed when you saw me." He laughed, a little forcefully, he thought.
"Ah, sorry. I got pretty excited and just wanted to get out here to you." That made his face feel warm.
"Right- uh. . ha. Yeah. We- We should go so we don't miss it." She blinked.
"Oh- yeah! Do you have a stone to your home?" Lenore nodded and took the crystal out of his pocket, reaching for Lucilla's hand.
It feels nice to hold her hand.
He chided himself for that thought.
The sky was only just beginning to turn a faint purple when they arrived. He led Lucilla right past the path to his house and down into the valley. The crested the hill and he heard Lucilla suck in a breath next to him.
Lenore's father, Pavan, had owned hundreds of cows. When he died, Lenore's grandfather, Omar, had taught Lenore to care for them on his own. Every week or so, he'd move them into a different part of the valley, there was quite a lot of it, after all. He had cared for the cows that got injured, helped deliver calves, everything, mostly on his own, sometimes with Omar, but never with a friend, not even Maieron.
His excuse had always been that it felt like something personal, a connection to his father, who he only had a few memories of.
Then what makes Lucilla different?
He sat down in the grass, Lucilla followed suit. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, simply sat. For the first time, silence with her felt comfortable.
"How do you have so many cows?" The sky began to tinge pink.
"Ah. . my father kept them. He. . was a farmer." Lucilla nodded.
"He passed?" Her voice was quiet, almost inaudible. Lenore paused.
"He did."
"I'm sorry." He shrugged.
"Don't be. I hardly remember him. It broke my mother though."
"Yeah?" Lenore sighed.
"Yeah. She. . shut herself in, and when I finally saw her again. ." He waved his hand vaguely. "She wasn't the same." Lucilla was quiet.
"You aren't very close to her then?"
"Nah." He wrapped his arms around himself,
". . . I can understand that. I'm not so close to my mother either. We. . . don't agree on much."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." The sky warmed into a brilliant scarlet, then a fiery orange.
There was that quiet again, save for the sound of the herds slowly waking up, the munching of blitzenberries, the buzz of fireflies, a quiet low from one of the bulls here and there.
"So. . . do you take all of your friends out to watch the sunrise or-?" Lenore whipped his head around to look at her.
"What?"
She chuckled, "I was just wondering, since I'd never heard Maieron or Rhea mention anything about it."
He looked away, "No- they. . No, I don't really bring either of them out here." Lucilla nodded, humming quietly.
"But you decided to drag me out to see it. Why?"
Lenore searched for an answer. Somewhere inside him, that sprout, that idea, that feeling; he couldn't put it into words, he didn't know what words would describe it.
". . . A fairly foolish reason: I guess I just wanted to share it with you." Somewhere on the grass, his hand found hers. Her fingers were soft, softer than his, which were covered in calluses. The sky began to take on the slightest hint of yellow.
Lucilla leaned against him, "You were right, by the way." She paused, "The sunrise is breathtaking."
A ring of navy, brightening to purple, spilled into pink. A blaze of scarlet burning into orange, a tinge of yellow. The brightest reddest stars still winked at them from the dome of the world. It was breathtaking, though Lenore couldn't help but think his breath was mostly taken away by the weight of Lucilla's head on his shoulder. Slowly, his head came to rest against hers.
"Lenore?"
"Yeah?" His voice sound small and strange in his ears. There was no response, eventually he picked his head up to look at her. In response, she pressed a small kiss to his cheek.
"Thank you. For bringing me out here." She scooted closer to him again, as if nothing had happened.
Lenore told neither Maieron, nor Rhea about that morning in the valley. It felt as though if he did that moment would shatter, and everything with it. But he thought about that kiss, that feeling, that sprout, more often than anything else. He thought about that sunrise, about that girl, for a long, long while.