"𝙋𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙇𝙚𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙨 𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙮." ༄ 𝘖𝘳𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘥 │Illustrated by our Legolas Cosplay │ Sensual, detailed, romantic MEGA SPICY smut / lemon (some is skippable) ❤️ Ardalings has been over 4,000 hours in the making. Part 1 is COMPLE...
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"Mistilas..." the green haired maiden whispered to the oak trees surrounding her. "If only you were real... Sometimes... I can swear that I see you among the boughs, peering out at me..."
Faelas yearned to reach out, to emerge from the trees, to open his mouth and speak to her. But he was glued to the spot as surely as if he were a tree himself.
"But... you can't be real..." she sighed. Faelas' heart clenched. His mysterious maiden appeared so heartbreakingly crestfallen. "Elven fae aren't real... they are only in stories... Mistilas is only a fantasy..."
Faelas blinked in surprise. The scene was gone when he opened his eyes. Before him was his ceiling. The waking world. The mysterious maiden was gone from sight. But, not gone from his heart. So sad she had seemed. So lonely, so wistful. Like a lost doe.
He inhaled deeply. The earthy scents of the sanctuary, and the robust spice of the pipeweed he had shared with Rada and Gandalf lingered on his raiment.
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Moonlight pooled on the velvet draperies and pale stone of his room, a generous accommodations paid for by his steward Rondor. In a few short hours he was to report to another interminable day of practice in preparation to perform with the other hall musicians at the celebration that evening. He sighed. He felt like a crestfallen, lost deer too.
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The only sounds were distant waterfalls and the gentle warble of Luna speaking with another raven outside the window. Shifting onto his back, he folded his arms behind his head and let his mind drift. Thoughts of the bizarre moment the week before when the maiden had seemed to actually see him, and called him Mistilas, drifted through his mind. Often did he dwell on this. How is it possible? Who is she? Why did she call me Mistilas?
