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“Well, hello there.”
Ethari did his best not to let the anticipation show too much on his face as Runaan’s eyes flicked to meet his from where he stood just outside the village entrance. He nodded politely but not unkindly, “Ethari.”
“They’ve got you tied down tonight, I see,” Ethari said lightly, stopping to stand in front of him with his hands in the pockets of his apron, “On guard duty for the festival?”
Runaan had always taken his duties to the people of the Silvergrove seriously, which was why it was not entirely surprising to see that he had volunteered for guard shifts for the New Moon festival. It was charming and endearing in its own way, but also meant Ethari would likely not be seeing him most of the night, which was not quite as small of a shame to him as it should have been seeing as he had only spoken to the elf a handful of times since moving to the village.
Just as he expected, Runaan nodded, “I will be.” But then, unlike Ethari had expected, he added, “Though only for the first few hours. After that, we’ve been given permission to enjoy the festivities.”
Ethari’s foolish heart leapt at that before he could stomp it down. He managed to contain the sudden rush of excitement he felt at this information, and opted instead for a casual smile as he tilted his head just so.
“Have you?” He asked, “I should hope so. The New Moon festival only comes once a year, after all.”
“So it does,” Runaan replied, and was that…a smile? Surely not.
If it was, it faltered before Ethari could fully process. When Runaan spoke next, he seemed on the edge of uncharacteristically unsure, “Will-” He stopped, then paused and tried again, “Will I see you there?”
“Yes,” Ethari replied quickly. Almost too quickly, but Runaan didn’t seem to notice. Instead, Ethari saw some of the tension drain from his shoulders and he looked almost… pleased just for a moment before he fell back into his usual solemnity.
Runaan bobbed his head once and folded his hands behind his back, “Good.”
“Good,” Ethari smiled, “I’ll save one or two of those moonberry tarts for you.”
“You really don’t-”
Ethari made a quiet ‘ tch’ noise and crossed his arms over his chest, “Don’t be daft, Runaan, it’s not as if I’m hoarding an entire three layer cake for you to sequester back to the assassin compound.”
“But-”
“But nothing ,” said Ethari, “You'll have your moonberry tarts, and that’s final. I saw you sulking the last time you missed out during the Harvest Feast because of patrol.”
Runaan looked affronted, “I was not sulking .”
“Moping , then,” Ethari amended with a wry smile, “Or brooding? I hear you assassins are very good at that.”
“I don’t brood eith-” Runaan stopped himself mid-indignant outburst and flicked his gaze to Ethari again, “You’re having a go at me.”
Ethari was delighted to see a flustered tint of red just beginning to bloom over the tips of Runaan’s ears, and he let out a short laugh, “I’m afraid I am.”
Runaan sighed, “I should have known.” He raised one eyebrow at Ethari, “You’ve made quite a habit of it.”
Ethari grinned, stuffing his hands deeper in his pockets and leaning back on his heels because, yes . Indeed he had, but the young assassin was just so terribly easy to tease that oftentimes he found himself pushing buttons before he even knew he was pushing them. He didn’t stop of course, altogether too endeared by the way Runaan’s ears would go red and his normally cool speech would be interrupted by the occasional stutter. He had found himself intrigued by it, wanting to know just how many times he could break past that collected exterior to the flustered young elf underneath.
“There are worse habits, I’m sure,” Ethari replied, still smiling.
Runaan’s face did an odd thing, like a spasm where he was caught between changing his expression to something softer and keeping his current, more neutral one. He did that often when he and Ethari spoke, he had noticed, and around Lain and Tiadrin as well. Such an odd elf he was, that Runaan of the Silvergrove. Odd and standoffish and sometimes curt in his language, but all at once just as beautiful and captivating as the moon’s rays. It was really quite embarrassing how inexplicably drawn to him Ethari hand found himself in such a short period of time.
It took more than a few moments for Ethari to realise they had been standing in semi-awkward silence for too long. He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet, glancing once back towards the village, then at Runaan again.
“Well, I’ll be off, then,” he said. It came out all in one breath, making the words sound airy and rushed. Internally, he felt himself cringing, but tried to recover, “Moon forbid I be the reason you get in trouble for socialising while on duty and have to miss the festival tonight.”
He put up a hand to wave as he turned to head back down the grassy path towards the village, “I’ll see you tonight!”
Runaan met Ethari’s wave with a final nod. Ethari thought that would be the last of it, but just as he turned around to leave, he heard, “Ethari!”
He whirled back around mid-stride, eyebrows raised quizzically, “Yes?”
“Would you save a dance?” Runaan asked stiffly, his hands still folded behind his back, “For me, I mean.”
Ethari beamed, feeling warmth spreading through his chest. There was a cool mask of indifference over Runaan’s face, but behind it, he could almost convince himself he saw anticipation behind those turquoise eyes.
Ethari could think of no other reason why that was anything other than the best idea anyone had ever had.
“Of course,” he promised, “I’ll save one or two of those for you as well.”