Between Wolves & Doves

Chapter 26 Unexpected

(Also our face cast for Draegan in this story is absolutely 100% Lee Pace as Thranduil that man is too beautiful for even our words-)

Iris could hardly breathe.

She can feel her chest moving yet this substantial method of breathing that had sustained her for many years and suddenly it isn't enough anymore-

She felt as if she's swallowed a bucket of pebbles and then a whole bank of sand. It sits sticky and lumpy and grey in her throat. Her palms suddenly feel like they could drip with moisture. She doesn't know if she should be intrigued or terrified by this man's sudden appearance into Ranlor.

The man Kylo assures her was hardly even a man at all. Even if his appearance as one was so thoroughly enchanting. Winningly convincing.

She's never thought of herself as a senseless female moved into insensibility by the sight of a gentleman. But for tonight, there may aswell be nothing but clouds of mushy sawdust in her head between her ears.

He's stunning.

She wipes her sweaty palms on her thighs. Wetting her lips as she comes forwards into the room. Her legs suddenly felt all shivery and useless. Like they couldn't hold her up like they'd been doing all her these years. Her top half has become an iron statue held up by dry kindling twigs ready to snap.

Kylo's face looks as terrible and dark as thunder. Storms ready to spit iron-hard hail and fury out his cross mouth.

Their guest, why, he stands as tall and as calm as a pale silver birch tree with the elements carving around it. Uncaring. Unmoved.

His dress is unusual for the era. He looks clad in robes more suited to a medieval time long since past. A long cloaking coat of velvet drapes his body. A coat like the night sky. The grain of it looks luxuriously soft. Dark blue. Bluer than nighttime horizons and deep shaded oceans. Lapping at his ankles. A coat like starlight and the clear heavens out that window tonight.

The ankles where his coat finished he is opulently wearing a finely polished pair of black calf boots and dark charcoal breeches. His upper half isn't wearing a traditional shirt and waistcoat. It's more of a tunic. Shimmering silver. They weren't just clothes on him. They were fine works of art.

Stitched so finely Iris surmises it must be made of silver silk and thread. Binding thunder-cloud grey satin panels together. Moulded to his singular frame. Dipping a V down his neck. Teasing that the skin there was as pale as the acid milk pallor of the rest of his body.

She could feel his eyes rake across her like the kiss of cold pebble stones. Hard and unyielding travelling across her meagre dress. She knows this dress is sheer, a smoky-white wisp of tulle overlay over silk, but it feels as if he can see right through it- clinging right to her skin.

"A guest..." Iris repeated. Finally echoing her husbands statement. "Well. How nice. You must be here for the ball?" She asks nicely.

"He isn't." Kylo answers moodily.

She dares cast a closer look at their vertiginously tall guest as she walks even closer. He was taller than her husband. And that feat took some beating.

His sheer beauty was devastating. As captivating as a wild roiling storm captured in a jar. Bottled lighting. She's finally seeing all of him and she's able to look fully. No snatches or half glances or hiding himself from her. Secreting himself into the shadows as he's done before.

His eyes stand stark and blazing from his proud angular face. Heavy lintels of dark brows govern an unconcerned brow. His eyes are as light as some tepid salty Mediterranean sea. Everything about his face is finely composed. Features all arrow straight and lush. Full pink cupid's bow lips which arch a gentle smile at her. Hiding a mouth full of straight pearly teeth. Bones under his skin as sharply defined as silver axe blades.