A COURT OF WRATH AND FURY. acotar

vii. to be in somebody's presence

"Me too," Elain replied, "It's very pretty - it kind of reminds me of home a little."

Yes, it was very pretty, but - "Where's home?"

Elain stiffened at the question. "The Mortal Lands."

What? She peered at the female's ears with wonder. But there, beneath her brown hair - pointed ears. Was she some sort of Lesser Fae, like Briar? But there were no noticeable differences, like the wings or horns, claws or gills. She did not have Briar's skin that flashed with scales of wood, or hair that grew flowers subconsciously.

"We were turned by the Cauldron. By the King of Hybern," Elain whispered, "into High Fae."

She supposed she had probably heard this information at some point before because it was not as jolting as it should have been. But she still stared at Elain with wonder, marvelling because she was staring at a human in a Fae's body. At magic - pure magic.

Elain's eyes were shining a little, her lips pursed as she dug another hole. So she was not happy about this. About having a new home in the heart of the Night Court, a new immortal body.

Briar didn't really understand it, but she gave the female - the girl - the most supportive nod she could muster. "I'm sorry." She didn't have to understand to have empathy. To know that having part of your life taken away hurt just as much as being stabbed. 

"Thanks," Elain whispered, and Briar tried not to notice her wiping a stray tear off her cheek. "I suppose we're both here for the first time, then."

She couldn't help but smile at Elain's optimism, at her ability to see a vengeful assassin and a girl whose life was stolen as two people on a new adventure. A new branch of life. "I suppose so."

And just because Elain was trying to look at it with such light, just because she had had so much stolen from her and was still smiling, Briar glanced up from her digging and admired the Night Court. She saw its native plants - pines and spruces, dogwoods and coneflowers - and its brilliant sky and didn't hate it with her entire core any longer. Perhaps just most of her core.

Beside her, Elain's tongue was out as she dug, entrapped in concentration. She held an open palm out - Briar slapped a hyacinth bulb into it. Elain moved onto the next hole while Briar pushed dirt over the planted bulb, lightly pressing into the dirt and giving it a pat for good measure ( did she let her power slightly germinate the hyacinth bulbs while she patted? perhaps. but Elain would never know ). It was as if they were a well-oiled machine. As if they knew each other well.

The feeling of being watched washed over, prickling the skin and hair on her arms. Tickling the back of her neck. She held herself back from turning around to glare at whomever it was - because it was most likely the Shadowsinger. It was his job as the Spymaster, she supposed, to keep an eye on dangerous criminals. To be there should she decide to stab Elain in the neck with a spade, or something along those lines.

Which she would not be doing. Most likely.

Elain must have felt the staring, too, because she looked over her shoulder. An instant later, her face lit up with a smile. She wiggled her dirtied fingers in a wave.

He must have waved back or something because her cheeks lit with a rosy blush.

Briar grit her teeth, ignored the eyes on the back of her neck, and held another bulb out to Elain, who was ogling at the Shadowsinger like he was some type of god. Briar nudged her ( maybe a little too harshly ) and Elain startled and muttered a small sorry before she grabbed the bulb and got back to planting.