Seeds of the White Tree

Chapter 50 - Meant to Be

He was stalling. Realizing as much brought Eldarion a sudden burst of determination. Jogging to catch up to Malbeth, he caught the other man by the arm to get his attention. 

"Can you replace me for a minute, Malbeth? There is something that I must do." 

"Of course, Captain. We can handle the rest of the windows without any trouble." Malbeth looked Eldarion over from head to toe, covered in stone dust and wearing work-worn clothes as he was. "I would say you look dashing, but lying to my liege lord is hardly good form." 

Eldarion's eyebrows shot up. "Dashing?" 

Malbeth shrugged innocently. "I may only be a year your senior, but I know the look when a man is thinking of a woman. You'd hardly be the first to take a chance in love after a near-brush with death." With a wave, he summoned another man over to take Eldarion's place on the window crew. "Go on, we have things managed here. "

"...Thank you, Malbeth." 

Eldarion was nearly halfway across the street - taking care to stay outside the barriers which had been put in place before the apothecary was collapsed - when Malbeth called after him. 

"Good luck to you, Captain!" 

Several heads turned curiously at Malbeth's call, and Eldarion had to beat a rather hasty retreat, his ears warm. Looking down, he realized that he could indeed stand to be tidied up at least a little bit. There was a bucket of rainwater sitting on a barrel at the next corner, and Eldarion took a moment to stop and at least wash his hands and face. If he recalled correctly, Galieth and Almárëa were helping the women clear rubble from the outermost circle. Following the streets past crews of soldiers and citizens alike, Eldarion tried to be inconspicuous. Many still noticed and recognized him though, and many raised voices and hands in greeting. 

There was certainly the most damage in the Circle of Twilight, and it was difficult to imagine finding a single person amidst all the disarray. Work crews buzzed this way and that like little clusters of honeybees, all bent to the task of repairing their hive. Eldarion was beginning to wonder if perhaps it wouldn't be better to just wait until later that evening to speak to Galieth when a familiar, long plait of raven-black hair caught the corner of his eye. 

Galieth was at the end of a side-street, kneeling to sweep up dust and rocks into a near-full basket. Other women were similarly engaged nearby, although Eldarion did not see Almárëa. A knotted kerchief kept Galieth's hair back off her face, and she wore a wide apron and simple smock with the sleeves rolled back. Simple garb for honest work, and it suited her. Tipping her pebble-filled tray into the basket, Galieth clapped the dust from her hands before straightening up. She had not yet noticed Eldarion, two blocks away on the main thoroughfare as he was. 

If he could survive Serthîk and The Black House, he could survive the fluttering nest of butterflies inside his chest. Closing the distance between them with long, straight strides, Eldarion walked right up to Galieth in front of all the other women working in the street. 

"May I have a word?" 

"...Of course, Your Majesty." 

Once, Galieth might have startled to have Eldarion suddenly materialize in front of her. A pink bloom rose in her cheeks, but her expression remained blank - almost studiously so - as she dipped in a quick curtsy. Stray strands of coal black hair escaped from her braid to stick to the sides of her neck and face, leaving streaks in the light coat of dust powdering her skin. Bringing down ruined buildings was hard work, but neither did Eldarion envy the women and children their endless back-breaking labour. 

Eldarion hesitated, unsure exactly where to begin. So much of what he was feeling was difficult to put into words. Galieth waited patiently at first, but when the silence between them began to lengthen, she bit her lip uncertainly. Then, unable to bear the tension anymore, she began to speak herself...just as Eldarion finally found his tongue.