Ekleipsis (Fantasy Romance - LGBT, manXman)

2.6.

The two on the bed could see the sky reddening from the bedroom window. They kissed lightly, pressed to each other, and quietly talked because they had no energy for anything else.

"So you speak the Common tongue now ..."

"Yes, I do."

"Learned it in two months?"

"One."

"So fast? How come?"

"It's a gift of the Ancient Race. We are quick studies."

"Did you use books?"

"No, I went to Naith Saihn, you call it Fanneshtou. I learned your tongue, your customs, history, geography, literature. They even had one book of your poems. I read it."

"And? How did you find it?"

"Human poetry is hard for me."

"Why?"

"I find the form too restrictive."

"I think I've tired you out. You are hardly loquacious."

"I am answering your questions."

"Don't you ever want to ... chat?"

Ithildin smiled. "You ask too many questions. I am not used to this. Elves need few words to understand each other."

"You can share thoughts?"

"No, feelings."

Now Alva understood the elven laconic stoicism that verged on arrogance. They were not prideful. They just had no need of body language or conversation to express what they felt.

"I can't yet understand you without words. So please bear my questions. Did you like my poems?"

"Yes. Some. 'Freezing fire, slate and copper, burning ice of lips' ..."

"Who would have thought. Aren't you supposed to prefer something like, "How the nightingale pales when the moon, light and frail ... "

"Only you humans find the nature exotic."

"And for you – it's feelings?"

"Yes. It's strange ... odd. Mesmerizing."

"You should have gone straight here, and not to Fanneshtou," now Alva sounded bitter. "I could have read my poetry to you in person."

"I am sorry. I had to understand humans at least a little before showing up. It could have been awkward for you."

"I doubt that."

"There was no other way. I had to."

"How did your kin ever let you go?"

Ithildin fell silent and looked away. Alva had seen Ithildin hesitate before, when he was not comfortable telling the truth. Could the Ancients lie at all? At least to others, if not to themselves?

"Do you really want to know?"

"You joking? I want to know everything about you. You'll be telling me your life story of a winter evening."

"My old life is over."

"What?"

The elf spoke blankly, as usual, "My people have banished me. I am an exile."

Alva gasped in surprise and sat up in bed. "They banished you? Your kin? Dear God, how could they?"

"I knew this would happen when I came back," said Ithildin. Still no emotion.