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Farrendel’s ears burned. He should not have opened his mouth. What had he been thinking, asking Fingol such a personal question? “Forget I said anything.”
Fingol heaved a sigh. “No, no. You clearly need advice. Come. Let us get a quiet table at a café where we can talk.”
“I cannot leave…” Farrendel waved in the direction of Illyna’s shop where Essie was.
“We will not go far.” Fingol led the way to his wife Fydella, where he leaned close for a whispered conversation.
Farrendel shifted from foot to foot. He still had time. He could make a run for it. Perhaps return to Illyna’s shop and hide there for a while until Fingol forgot that he had ever brought up this topic.
The longer the whispered conversation continued, the wider Fydella’s grin grew until she turned to Farrendel. “Yes, let us sit and talk.”
Fydella led the way at a brisk pace to a nearby café. It was owned by another elf warrior who had fought with Fingol and Farrendel before he was wounded.
Fingol and Fydella claimed a quiet table tucked under a sapling at the far side of the café, well away from any other patrons. While Fingol and Farrendel hesitated, Fydella rolled her eyes and took the seat with her back to the rest of the café.
After a moment of silent staring, Fingol caved first and claimed the chair that placed his back to the empty forest, leaving the seat with its back safely protected by the sapling for Farrendel.
Farrendel took a deep breath and forced himself to sit. Why had he opened his mouth? He should have just stayed quiet. When he stayed quiet, he did not say anything he later regretted. And this debacle was one that would come back to haunt him foryears.
He glanced around the café. Only a few others sat at the tables at this time in the morning, and none of them were close enough to overhear. The nearest was an elf reading a book, his head down. A cane rested against the table next to him. Farrendel vaguely recognized him as a wounded elf warrior who worked for one of Weylind’s generals, though Farrendel had never had the opportunity to strike up a friendship with him the way he had with Illyna or Fingol. Not likely to be a threat.
An elf server came and took their orders. They waited in a long, awkward silence for the server to return with their cups of tea.
When the server set Farrendel’s cup in front of him, he stirred in lots of the provided milk and sugar. He didn’t actually like tea, but the ubiquitous drink was a social ritual here in Tarenhiel. He had no choice but to drink it. At least the milk and sugar made it somewhat palatable.
Fingol leaned forward. “So…falling in love.”
This had been such a bad idea. Farrendel lifted his cup and took a sip to buy himself time. It took all his practice at holding an icy mask to keep the grimace off his face. Even with the milk and sugar, the tea still tasted like bitter, hot water.
Fydella smiled and sipped her own tea. “Why don’t you start by telling us about this human princess you married? Perhaps then we might be able to pinpoint something specific that would help.”
Good. A topic to focus on. Farrendel set down his teacup and stared at it as he relayed the events of his marriage to Princess Elspeth. He left out anything of the treaty negotiations that would be considered confidential and instead focused on Essie.
“And then…and then this morning, she wanted tohold my hand.” Farrendel slumped against the back of his chair, strangely wrung out after so much talking, even if it was with his friends.
“Yes. We noticed.” Fingol gave a wry smile.
Fydella’s mouth also tipped into a smile. “Farrendel Amir, wanting to hold your hand is agoodthing. Forgive me for being blunt, but I do not see the problem?”
Farrendel heaved a frustrated sigh. His words were not working. How could he communicate the roil inside him? “Thatisthe problem! If she just wanted to ignore me, I could do that. I am good at ignoring people. But she wants…more. And I do not know what to do or say or…” He gestured, his words failing.
Fingol gave a small cough. “Are you attracted to her?”
Was he? Farrendel squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, drawing in a deep and steadying breath. He thought of Essie’s smile and the way it sparkled in her eyes and lit her expression. The way her red hair glowed in the morning sunlight. Her never-ending chatter that, for some reason, relaxed his tension rather than added to it.
And, in the end, the answer was simple. “Yes.”
“Ah.” Fingol shared a look with Fydella. Based on the angle of their arms, they were holding hands beneath the table. “If I understand this correctly, your problem is that you went into this marriage expecting that the two of you would just coldly ignore each other. But now that you are married, you find you are attracted to her and she seems to be attracted to you, and you actually want to build a true marriage. Does that sum it up?”
“Yes.” That was what Farrendel had been trying to say, but Fingol had said it all so much better.
“If that is what you want, then as far as I can see, you are making a good start of it.” Fingol waved in the direction of Illyna’s shop. “You are spending time with her. You are talking and listening. From here, you take that attraction and build it into something deeper and meaningful.”
Farrendel gritted his teeth. But how? How did he go from mere attraction into something more? Just time? And talking? Surely there was something else to it, right? It seemed too…simple.
Fydella set aside her empty teacup and held Farrendel’s gaze with a gentle, compassionate expression. “You will need to take the time to truly listen to her. Right now, you are still getting to know each other. You are learning the surface things. As you spend more time together, you will learn the deeper truths about each other. You will both need to be vulnerable and open.”
Farrendel nodded, even as his chest tightened. Open and vulnerable was not something he did. Ever. If he was vulnerable, then he could be hurt.
