Feathers -eng ver-

Chapter 9- Where it All Began

«I am going to the Palace» Estel had said. And that was exactly his intention. He wouldn't be stopped, he wouldn't allow it. The mission he had given himself was to find Noya, and he was not going to give up until he had accomplished it.

Therefore, after receiving a displeased but understanding glance from everyone in the room, he had decided to prepare for departure. He had gathered the few things he had there and had gone out, fetching the horse to return to the House on the Hill, hoping that -given the events- it was still in one piece.

Arriving at his destination, he had begun to sort out some of the items that might come be useful during his brief stay at the Palace. He had collected the various sketches and ideas he had made, putting them in the leather folder and stuffing them along with some clothes into a makeshift bag. Once that was done, he had set about cleaning up the mess that had been left in the house and garden after Narith and Han had been attacked.

After an hour or so had passed, the others arrived as well. They were not in the best of conditions, but they were not in the worst either. Mikhael had enabled, through his healing magic, the two wounded men to recover even faster. Now Narith had regained enough energy to walk without trouble, and Han could safely use his arm.

Other than that and the knowledge that they had let those men take Noya, they were fine. They felt guilty about what had happened and were determined to get the young dancer back. They wanted to bring him home, to give him a chance to live as he deserved, to put a smile back on his lips.

They spent the day fixing what they could, trying to mask the scratches left by Narith's claws. In the evening they gathered as usual for dinner, and after that they all holed up in their rooms to rest. Narith and Han were the first to go off into the dark corridor, followed shortly by Mikhael as well. The two youngest remained to arrange the few dishes they had used, basking in their silence and listening to the gentle crackling of the fire.

          After a few minutes spent tidying up, Estel decided to approach the girl's slender, backward figure.

Did he feel ready for what he was about to ask her?

He didn't know that, but he was sure he wanted to experience again the magnificent feeling he had felt only that morning when he had woken up and found Len lying on top of him. It had made him feel incredibly good, and he knew he needed someone to be that close to him at that moment, especially before leaving.

He moved a couple of slow, silent steps toward Len, raising his hand and brushing her arm with his fingertips. He ran his finger over the girl's silky smooth skin, lingering a few moments too long when he reached her wrist.

She had smiled faintly at that contact, imagining what the young man breathing on her neck would ask her. She was getting used very easily and very quickly to his touch and his ways of communicating emotions, and she couldn't deny that she liked the way they interacted. The gruff, arrogant aspect of him was gone for good, leaving room only for the golden heart that Noya had assured her existed.

Estel tickled her wrist a little, pulling her out of her thoughts and silently inviting her to open her hand.

She relaxed her shoulders and opened her palm, letting the dark-haired man's exploratory fingers run through it and into a warm, protective, gentle grip with hers. She smiled again when he brought their hands intertwined on her lap, joining them with his other and hugging her from behind. She felt incredibly good with those arms around her, with her back matching -inch by inch- with the artist's solid chest.

The contact with his warm body relaxed her and, for a short time, made her forget all the problems they had to face. Estel's heartbeat radiated against her body in every inch that he held pressed against her, leaving her with a pleasant, comfortable feeling of warmth. It made her feel safe in a way only her father had been able to do before.