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“Out of everyone you could have chosen, why me?” Honeymaren blurted.
A frown marred her tanned features. Her gaze lowered to her feet. Shame washed over her for even daring to ask the question.
It had been lingering in the back of her mind and twisted heart for months. How could it not?
Elsa was special. The Fifth Spirit. A practical goddess among her people and the enchanted forest. How could it be that such a woman could fall for someone like her?
Elsa halted in her tracks, resting a hand on the trunk of the tree next to her. She didn’t turn. Honeymaren watched from a few feet away as a breeze billowed her ivory skirts and played with her blonde tresses.
Despite how entranced by the sight she was, Honeymaren swallowed thickly. Her heart ached. She feared the answer.
Elsa turned, glancing over her shoulder. Her head tilted as her thin brows furrowed. She pursed her lips into an adorable frown. Then, she turned to face Honeymaren fully, but made no move to step closer.
“What do you mean?” she asked. Her melodic voice almost was almost like a whisper in the wind.
Honeymaren couldn’t meet her piercing blue gaze.
“You’re the Fifth Spirit. You possess magic that no one else has or has even ever seen before. You’re like a deity, a goddess. You’re special. . .and, I’m not,” she admitted with a sigh.
A shuffle of leaves and the snapping of twigs told the Northuldran woman that the Fifth Spirit was closing the distance between them. She still wouldn’t dare to look up, fearing the expression on her beloved’s features.
“Honeymaren,” Elsa called, voice soft and velvety. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. You think I should be with someone ‘special’?”
The question lingered in the air and Honeymaren flinched. The words were daggers to her heart. Her stomach twisted into knots. Her throat felt tighter and her eyes pricked with the rising of tears.
“Y-Yeah,” she choked. “I. . .think so? Or, at least, with someone who can provide you with everything you deserve. You’re amazing, Elsa. Anyone could see that. I’m just. . .ordinary compared to you.”
Elsa’s eyes widened, her mouth agape.
Honeymaren tensed. She’d struck a chord. Why did she have to open her big mouth?
“Ordinary?” Elsa echoed in a whisper. “You think you’re just ordinary?” Her voice rose an octave. The disbelief was evident in her tone.
Honeymaren sighed. “Elsa—”
“You’re not ‘ordinary’ Honeymaren and I’m not ‘special.’ We’re just human.”
At Elsa’s adamant speech, Honeymaren forced her eyes to meet her girlfriend’s striking gaze; the blue almost glowed in the sunlight. The passion she found in them sent a thrill accompanied by a heat deep within her core.
Spirits, this woman would be the end of her.
“I-I,” Honeymaren stuttered, her lips mouthing what she wanted to say, but no words would form properly. “I just. . .Elsa you’re. . .human I just—you’re special,” she finished, hanging her head.
Spirits, she was pitiful.
Would Elsa even want to still be with her after this?
Elsa took Honeymaren by the arms. Her touch was gentle. She lowered her head, searching for Honeymaren’s eyes.
“Honeymaren, look at me. Please?”
The Northuldran woman swallowed thickly and obeyed. Her chest felt tight when their eyes met.
“You’re not ‘ordinary’ and I’m not ‘special.’ We’re human. It may feel like I’m a goddess or a deity to you because of my role in this forest and my duty to Ahtohallan, but I’m just as mortal as you. And,” Elsa paused, biting her lip. This time, her gaze drifted away. Her hands slid down Honeymaren’s arms to cradle her hands. “You’re special to me.”
Honeymaren’s breath hitched at the confession and the emotion in her chest overflowed into tears. They cascaded down her cheeks. She smiled softly.
“You’re special to me too, Elsa. Because. . .because, I love you.”