Ne�riallr closed his hand slowly and the playful pixie leapt from his hand, fluttering in a shower of pixie dust through the air to her companions. The half-elf let his hand fall to his side, sighing through his nose to himself. He enjoyed walking through the forest; seeing the different types of foliage and spending his company with the different inhabitants of this wilderness. But he was too distracted to enjoy these usual pleasures this day. What had happened the night before in the very spot he stood was playing over and over on his mind. Ne�riallr was used to seeing the lust, the desire in the eyes of others� but to see it in Valila�s was different.

Ne�ri slumped himself down against the small ruins; a mighty castle or outpost no doubt, some time long ago� reduced now by someone or something to crumpled rocks, remnants of what had been. Taking the longbow from his back, Ne�riallr laid it on his lap and leant back against the broken wall, not feeling the halberd pressed between rock and leather armor. He had sat here with her, looking at her, admiring every feature of her endearing face. He had meant it when he told her she was more beautiful than any elf he had seen. Should he have told her? A frown passed over his pale, full lips, and he wet the dry away from them with the tip of his tongue. She had kissed him with such a hunger� why? She had said he drove her crazy; he didn�t mean to do that, he hadn�t intended it. He had expected a walk, a talk amongst friends. He wanted more than that from her; but should he?

Slowly Ne�riallr�s hand lifted up and touched the tip of his ears. Her fingers had been there just hours ago. Her tongue had been there just hours ago. He had become so weak, so vulnerable to the touch. And all the thoughts that had run through his mind. He had wanted to take her right there. Ne�ri frowned softly to himself, ignoring the excited pixie buzzing around his head and muttering in her own language to him, begging him to play. He couldn�t do that to Valila. He cared about her and she had had such hurt in her life already. What if it wasn�t what she wanted? What if he really was doing something to her without even being aware of it himself. He remembered how she had been to him the day after he had kissed her. She had ignored him, brushed him off. She had left him to talk with Dart as she sat by herself, away from him. He had vowed to not do that again� not to drive her off. But he had. He had been unable to control himself; her touch, so alluring, so tempting. Silently Ne�riallr cursed the elven blood in him. It had taken from him the gift of sleep and instead given him these ears� she played them so well. Knew how to touch him, knew where to touch� Would she avoid him again, now?

Slowly Ne�riallr�s fingers worked the bowstring, fixing it, tightening it, making sure everything was in order. His fingers fixed the weapon so naturally; his mind was elsewhere. His mind was on Valila; but it had been nowhere else for so many days now. He couldn�t understand himself; he wanted her. But she frightened him. A frown on her face would crush him; a tear in her eye would break his heart in two. He didn�t want to hurt her. Others in her life had done that to her. He would provide her with happiness; with smiles and with a reason to go on living, or else he would turn and he would leave Battledale behind. Why then did he feel that every moment he spent with his lips against hers that he was ruining something? Perhaps he did not want to let go what was already between them. Now she could smile when he bid her a good day or when he said her name. She could grin when they joked and she could beam when he held her hand. He did not want her to choose solitude over him for a second time.

He rose now from his position, chewing distractedly on his lip. He wondered to himself where she was now� and little did he doubt she was regretting the night. Regretting him touching her, regretting letting herself get in so deep. She might wish never to set eyes on him again and he would hate himself for it. Why had he kissed her again? Why had he stroked her as he had? He wanted her� but he knew he shouldn�t. He wanted all to be well; he wanted her to be at ease with him, he wanted her to be happy with him. And he hoped in his heart that nothing had changed; that he could see her again without her wishing him away.

The pixie protested in her shrilly little voice as Ne�riallr began his walk towards the exit to the forest; a small tear slipping down his face. Her tiny hands gripped his ear and he swung his head quickly, tugging it free of her grasp, a gasp leaving his throat. She blinked at him, hovering in the hair, her little green wings flapping furiously behind her. And he asked her politely in her own language to leave him alone, his steady footsteps taking him back towards the village.