I know that this isn't the most practical form of communication, but in the spirit of romanticism, I thought I would send you a letter instead. In my opinion, it's always better to have something physical to hold onto and treasure—although I'm starting to regret my choice because it's raining here in Arlathan and my paper keeps getting wet! I'm settled down in my canvas tent for the night. It's my smaller one, but it still feels weirdly empty. I think I'm used to being cramped up with you. I adore it, actually. I love when our legs tangle together and I can feel your chest rising and falling against me. I love when you're not totally awake and you squint around like a little mole. Also, I love having someone else's body heat. I'm freezing my ass off right now!
People think that it's lonely out in the forest for weeks at a time by myself. I think it's the opposite! I'm surrounded by so much life, so much magic, I can feel it in my bones. I love it so much. I see the fade butterflies, how they're purple and magenta, and I think of you. Remember when we set up camp near the waterfall? We woke up totally covered in them! I was so scared we were gonna squish them, but they kept tickling my legs and I accidentally kicked you in the stomach trying to shake them off.
Okay, maybe that's not so romantic. I'm going to move onto more romantic things. I meant to make this a love letter, but you know me. Either I focus too much on something or not enough at all. When it comes to you, though, it's like my mind just goes ... quiet. My head is always filled with a constant buzz, like one big cloud of words and shapes and thoughts.
Mythal'enaste, you made it so much worse. At first, I mean!
It was incessant, Laika! I wanted to tell you everything I was doing. I wanted to know what you were doing. I wanted to know who you were with, what you were feeling, even what you were wearing. I think to know is to love, and I wanted to be intimately familiar with you.
I love you. Sometimes I just need to say it. You're my life partner. I can't wait to make you tea in the morning. You're my reason. If Elgar'nan ever came back for you somehow, I'd let him take me all over again in a heartbeat.
I can't wait to tell you about my most recent discoveries. I won't get into it now or I'll run out of paper! I can't wait to see your smile when I do, though!
I also can't wait to kiss you. I keep thinking about it. Like, a lot. You are a great kisser. It's unfair. You can't keep kissing me when you want to steal my quills! When you kiss me, you make me feel like I've never been kissed before. Your hands—I know how scarred they are, but they tell so many stories just from that alone. I know you've gotten them from pursuing what you enjoy the most, and I think that is a beautiful, stunning thing. You are a beautiful and stunning thing. You touch me and I feel like my skin just erupts into flames. I want you to touch me until there's nothing of me that you haven't felt. I want you to touch me like a forest fire and engulf me completely.
Maybe those are the thoughts I'll leave you with tonight. You have plenty of time to consider! And reconsider. And maybe reconsider again after that.
I'll see you soon, Vhenan!
unprompted ask. always accepting. @vorashvan
When Bellara receives the reply, it comes wrapped in a red envelope and sealed with wax and dried flower petals. A little fanciful, for both their tastes, but it's deeply sentimental. The parchment is lightly scented, spritzed with perfume. It reads:
When I first got your letter, I could not help but read it, and read it again, until I knew the words so well I could recite it blind. I'd find myself on a Minrathous roof, recounting the shape of your smile and reading your letter back in my head. It certainly made the time slip by. A letter this lovely deserves a reply in kind.
Each time I considered my reply, I found myself lost in the sea of words and promises I would make. How I miss you! How I would turn to ask you for a synonym and you would not be there. I had to consult a real thesaurus! Do you know how boring that is, rather than debating the exact use and connotation of "slip by" as opposed to "fly by"?
I trust you are keeping safe in Arlathan, or rather, as safe as you can manage. That's a dim hope to have - and a bit hypocritical of me, given where both of our works take us. I'm sure you're reading this, surrounded by any number of artifacts that could become critical. And yet, despite the danger, you continue to work, to rediscover the past and shape the future.
You are so, utterly relentless. There isn't a truth you won't uncover. Only one of many reasons I love you. But to watch you as you uncover the next big secret, as you unravel mysteries that I can barely begin to fathom, as ideas click in those beautiful eyes of yours— how lucky I am to even be a footnote in your tale. Bellara, you are simply amazing. You must tell me everything when you're home.
If it makes you feel any better, our bed at home grows cold. The cats circle the door, waiting for you to come through, and leave me bereft of warmth. Though, I'm feeling the same, waiting for your return. The city carries on as if there is not a giant hole in it, a void of my beloved. Every day life keeps walking. And I will keep wanting your lips, your hand, the crinkle of your nose when you smile.
Forever consider me caught in your web,
in place of a signature, there is a red lip print at the bottom of the page.
