Patience of a Gordon

Epilogue

A short epilogue! 

Epilogue

"Are your eyes closed, dear?"

I smiled, nodding my head. It did not matter whether they were closed or not. I could not see regardless because of the pair of hands gently wrapped over my eyes, smelling of the fresh citrus hand soap we both used.

He had woken me up, his eyes lit with the excitement of a cub as he told me that he had a surprise prepared for me. I had played along getting dressed right before he told me that he did not want the surprise spoiled and would lead me towards it.

I did not think he thought about how we would get there with his hands over my eyes, but we both laughed as he attempted to lead me through the maze-like halls of the palace and outside. We had stumbled quite a bit and nearly ran into a few walls but ultimately made it out untouched.

Now, one hand had glided from my face, wrapping around my waist as we slowed to a stop. I ran my own hand along his arm, stopping when I found his and tangled our fingers together. His lips were pressed against my hair close enough that I could feel his own smile form at the action.

"Can I look now, päästja?" I asked, excited to see what he had in store.

He laughed softly before saying, "Yes, dear. You can look." He then removed his hand, allowing it to join the other that was snug around my waist.

We were standing in front of the field where the horses were allowed to roam. My smile widened as I took them in, finding where Spirit was resting. When he noticed us, he nickered softly before getting up and trotting in our direction.

"Are we going for a ride?" I asked, pulling from Cayne to meet Spirit at the gate. When we met, I ran my hand along his nose, reaching up and scratching behind his ear.

"Yes, we are," he replied, stepping beside me to greet his horse as well. Spirit took in the affection happily, pressing his nose into Cayne's hand. "However, you will not be riding Spirit with me." With that, he called out and I watched as another horse emerged, trotting over to join us.

She was ilus, simply put. Her coat was a brown one, stained with a large white spot that had melted itself around her torso. Her mane was a light blonde, hanging lower than Spirit's did. It was her bright blue eyes that stood out, however, conveying a sense of playfulness.

"She is a Paint Horse. I hope you do not mind that I have already given her a name," Cayne said from beside me. "Ivy, I would like you to meet Rain."

"You are quite a sight, Rain," I told her, reaching towards her slowly. Cayne noticed my hesitation.

"She had been trained to deal with a multitude of situations, my dear, just as Spirit was. I did not want her to be skittish around you," he said, pride ringing in his voice. I laughed softly, my eyes still focused on the beauty standing before me, demanding my attention.

"Why did you need a new horse, päästja? Is Spirit not adequate enough?" I questioned, my eyes flickering over to him for a moment. He looked at me with confusion before he understood.

"Ivy, Rain is not my horse. She is your surprise, my dear. She is yours." My eyes lit up at his words and within seconds, I threw myself at him, catching him by surprise.

"Päästja, she is perfect! I do not think I can find a way to thank you properly for her," I said, pressing my lips against his cheek.

He gave me a smile, one I had grown much too fond of. I knew it was one solely reserved for me and I selfishly craved its presence. "You can thank me by accompanying me to dinner this evening," he replied and I frowned.

"I always have dinner with you." I leaned up, nipping his nose. Even after spending so much time together, the gesture still caught him by surprise each time. However, now, he would return it. I felt a laugh build up as his teeth quickly grazed my nose before his lips replaced them.

"And you will continue to have dinner with me tonight." I grinned at his words.

"And tomorrow night?" I asked, watching his own smile broaden.

"Tomorrow night as well."

"And the night after?"

"Yes, my dear."

"And what about-" He was quick to silence me with his lips, the only form of interruption that I did not mind.

Päästja - (savior)

Ilus - (beautiful)