I took it. Nothing to look into there. That pull inside me tells me otherwise, that there’s a reason I feel better when he touches me, but I push that feeling firmly away.
“I have nightmares too.” His voice cuts through my internal panic, and I turn to him. He’s looking away now, staring out of the opening of the cave into the early morning sun.
I remember him telling me this once, but he never told me what they were about. “You do?”
“I was a captive for over a hundred years, yet I still get nightmares about the night I was captured.”
Vaeril was a warrior, that much is obvious, and for him to be captured for that length of time completely blows my mind. His captivity lasted longer than most human lifespans, yet he showed me kindness and mercy. I want to know more about him. My knowledge on elves is poor, and most of what I do know is from the propaganda the king would tell the lords and ladies that eventually filtered down to us.
“What happened?” As soon as I mutter the words, I know I’ve made a mistake. His head snaps around, his face twisted with anger, and he looks so unlike the Vaeril I know that I hastily shuffle back to put some space between us.
“Just because you helped me escape doesn’t mean you are privy to information about my life. We are not friends. You are a human. Once you are somewhere safe, I will have fulfilled my duties to you and I will never have to see you again.”
The disgust at which he says ‘human’ makes me furious, it awakens the rage that dwells within me. Where I would usually push it away, today it stokes and fuels my anger and before I know it, I’m in his face, snarling.
“How dare you.” Raising my hands, I push at his shoulders and he falls back with a shocked expression. At a later point, I will look back at this and marvel that I managed to push an elf, but right now, my rage is blinding me. “I’m sorry that I touched a sore spot, I shouldn’t have asked, but this human is the only reason you are free right now and I deserve some respect,” I demand, my voice loud as it echoes around the cave.
Vaeril hasn’t moved from where he landed after I pushed him, and he’s staring up at me with an odd expression. My anger starts to drain as he continues to stare at me, his unnatural stillness making me uneasy.
“Well?” I growl with more audacity than I feel. I’m so used to hiding my emotions that I feel strange after my outburst. I expected to feel better, and perhaps if he had reacted, shouted back at me, or apologised, then I might have, but instead I’m left feeling…deflated.
Moving slowly, he shifts onto his knees and holds his hands out in a gesture of peace. “You are right.”
I wait for an apology that doesn’t come and arch my eyebrow as I cross my arms. He looks confused by my attitude, his signature frown back in place, and I eventually take pity on him and sigh, gesturing towards him. “I think I deserve an apology.”
One single silver eyebrow rises at my comment, and he folds his arms to mirror my position. “I told you that you were right, is that not apology enough?”
I can tell from his voice he’s amused that I’ve taken offence at the lack of apology. I can also tell that in his mind, what he said was enough. Suddenly, I remember overhearing a conversation Wilson and Grayson were having about the war, and that it all began over a silly argument. It could have been resolved with a simple apology, but elves are not very good at apologising and the peace efforts between them dissolved. I don’t know if that’s true, but Vaeril is certainly trying to avoid saying it.
With a boldness I didn’t know I possessed, I shake my head and purse my lips. “No.”
He’s watching me with that strange expression again, and the connection between us is practically fizzing with pleasure at our proximity. “Fine,” he finally mumbles, and I smile in response, waiting with an expectant expression on my face. “I’m sorry,” he grinds out, sounding like the words pain him. For some reason, this amuses me, and I can’t stop the smile that creeps across my face.
“What are you sorry about?” I ask lightly, wanting to