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It was not uncommon for hunting parties to spend days away from the clan - especially when they had spent weeks camped in the same area. Prey would learn to avoid the camp, and so hunters would need to trek further into the forest. Shemlen rarely wandered so deep, thanks to the spirits that so often drifted past the thinning veil. Mahariel had spent her entire life beneath the forest's pines. The occasional chill down the spine or unexpected unease where she brushed near to the Fade was normal to her. Sylvans hardly concerned her when a campfire burned nearby.
So it was that she lounged between the roots of one of the forest's looming trees, far from the clan's camp. The sun would soon begin to set - already had the light begun to fade from the forest floor. Only a few dappled streams of faint autumn light managed to reach the mossy ground below.
Mahariel could hear Tamlen off somewhere behind her, washing the dirt and grime from the day's hunt off his skin and into the river. It was just the two of them out here this time. Usually they would hunt in larger groups, but Marethari had sent them from the camp in a fury. Mahariel couldn't even remember what they'd broken this time, but she couldn't find herself regretting it as she peered around the tree to sneak a peek at her friend.
From where she sat Mahariel could see him, waist-deep in the river's flow with his back to her. She could see the lithe and strong muscles in his back and shoulders, honed from nearly nineteen years of life with a bow in hand. She could have sworn Tamlen caught her glance out of the corner of his eye, but if he did, he did nothing about it. Instead, he reached up to run his hands through his hair, and she watched with sly satisfaction as his muscles rippled under the skin.
If this was Marethari's idea of punishment, she needed to break things more often.
Content with what she had seen, Mahariel turned away and settled back against the tree trunk once more. She let her eyes drift closed, listening to the sounds of the forest birds as they sang their sunset songs to summon their mates back to the nest. Wolves howled somewhere deeper in the forest, though they were far enough away that they would be of little concern tonight.
Mahariel cracked open an eye at the sound of Tamlen's return. The young hunter was still lacking a shirt, though he hardly seemed to notice the autumn chill in the air. A thin, ragged towel was draped around his shoulders, catching the water droplets that fell from his sopping hair.
"Not sitting nearer to the fire, lethallan?" He asked with a smirk, tossing his leather guards to the side for now. "It's a bit cold, isn't it?"
"Says the one without a shirt."
"I could put one on if you'd rather."
"I'll stare if you don't."
Tamlen scoffed - though it sounded nearer to a laugh than proper scoff, truly. "You'll stare anyway."
"Mm." Mahariel smiled. "Garas, lethallin." She shifted to sit up, beckoning him over with a gesture.
Tamlen obliged, and, turning his back to her, took a seat in front of his companion. Mahariel took the damp towel from his shoulders and immediately went to work attempting to dry his hair. Smothering his hair, he would've said, if he had opted to make a sound other than a discontent grunt at her efforts.
"Oh, hush." She earned a proper scoff for that.
Eventually she let the towel fall back over his shoulders and instead began to comb through his damp hair with her fingers. Mahariel felt him lean back against her hands, and she responded by lazily massaging his scalp. Tamlen gave a content sigh as he relaxed under her touch. She trailed her hands down his neck to his back and began to slowly massage the same muscles she had been admiring not long before. Though her hands and fingers were rough and calloused from life as a huntress, Mahariel's touch was gentle as she carefully worked out the knots in her companion's back and shoulders. She heard him hum deeply in response to her efforts, and could not help but smile. It was a fleeting moment of intimacy they enjoyed, though neither would acknowledge it when they returned to the rest of the clan. Here, such gestures were natural - thoughtless yet meaningful. The clan did not need to know just yet.
"Enjoying yourself?" Mahariel teased quietly.
"I could ask you the same question."
"Well, I am, for the record."
Tamlen laughed softly, glancing over his shoulder at her with a faint smile. "I'm glad."
Mahariel trailed her hands down his spine one last time before she let them fall. "It's going to get cold fast." She explained when he gave her a questioning glance. "Go put a shirt on before you freeze."
"Alright, alright." He replied with a heavy sigh. Mahariel could see the reluctance in his movements as he forced himself to his feet and away from her. She could barely stifle a laugh, shaking her head.
While Tamlen made to fetch a shirt, Mahariel stood and wandered nearer to the fire. She took a log from the small stack they had gathered on the first day of the hunt and added it to the small, crackling pyre. The flame's heat banished the dusk chill from her skin as she lingered, eyes following its flickering movements. The forest had turned dark now, and the fire's glow offered the only light she had to see by.
The young elf became aware of Tamlen's presence behind her a mere moment before he had draped a warm, fur blanket around her shoulders. Mahariel turned her head to glance back at him. His eyes reflected the light of the fire like a cat's, but they lacked the cold indifference one would expect from a feline. No, his blue eyes were as warm as the fire itself as he met her gaze. Tamlen smiled softly at her as he reached up to brush strands of hair from her eyes.
"Sit with me, lethallan?" He requested softly as he let his hand fall.
"If you'd like."
"I would." Tamlen wrapped an arm around her lithe form and gently pulled Mahariel down to the ground. She obliged, and wrapped the blanket tightly around the both of them as she nestled against her companion's side. He held her close to him with a hand placed on her waist. Mahariel could feel his breath against herhead as he fondly nuzzled her hair.
"You know, you still smell like halla." He mumbled. Mahariel began laughing at that. "Three days with not a halla in sight and I can still smell them on you. I'm not sure how that's possible."
"I do spend a lot of time with the halla." She replied with a grin.
"Don't think I don't know it." Tamlen chuckled quietly.
Mahariel shifted to rest her head in the crook of his neck, breathing deeply as she settled. He smelt of trees and leather; a scent she could not find unpleasant in the least. Tamlen rested his head against hers, while his thumb idly traced circles against her back. The birds had now fallen silent, with their songs replaced by the constant hum of crickets and beetles in the trees around them. It was otherwise quiet, and far more peaceful than the camp would have been at this hour.
Mahariel soon felt Tamlen pull her back to lay down with him. She offered no resistance, but waited for him to settle into a comfortable position before she moved to rest her head atop his chest. Tamlen smiled and adjusted the blanket around them before he rested a gentle hand atop her head. Finding herself unable to stop from smiling in turn at that small gesture, Mahariel let her eyes close. She could hear his heart beating steadily in the quiet, and she could feel the slow rise and fall of his chest as his breathing evened out. The young huntress began to hum softly as he ran his fingers gently through her hair. In that moment they were both far more at peace than either of them had been in a long time.
In four days they would return to the clan, and this would go unmentioned. They wouldn't admit to anyone that they'd spent the nights in each other's arms. These tender moments were theirs, after all. The others didn't need to know.