The human and elven world had danced their dance, before pulling apart to reconvene with themselves. There was something bigger that had come from that dance, yet they knew not what that was.
All throughout the next hours, late into the dance, they shared things. Side grins and brief touches. Smiles, and innuendos. Flirting with a reveal.
And then the elven world pulled her mask up at a bit and drew close again. There she and the human world stood for a moment, before their hands met, this time for good.
They danced the rest of the night away.
And they were like Romeo and Juliet that night, commenting on the way they were committing sin in the eye of the eldern elves, who were content with the way their lives had been for centuries. Their hands should not have ever met, yet here they were.
But they flirted and they flirted, and the human brought up a proposition. Come to us, and draw peace. Settle the burning and mistrustful flames inside of us, and stand by my side.
And they departed as unsteady equals, ready to build a kingdom anew.
The next day finds them at noon, in a place of government, drawing up their grand images of a peaceful world.
Outside, there were rioters and hateful men who hated their union. But there was also the girls who danced in the streets promoting love, and the bards who sang of peace.
Two sides of the same coin, like them.
All kissed by the same kiss of life, children who unbeknownst to many, grew up together. Separated by bad decisions and betrayal, but brought together in an intricate dance, a pull of kin.
They build intricate treaties and a palace of peace seems to rise with their words. The paper itself is just an open space, but the words that are strung together are swirling and storming building halls that only know peace.
They finish and the human world seems to have seen these halls because they declare that the building they stand in shall be renamed the halls of peace, and no blood or pain shall ever know these bricks.
This is the meeting point, and all peace comes from here. This is the flame of Rome, the thing that determines the fate of the empire. The empire is peace.
Sorry for the shortness, I really am. I find that these chapters, the ones that are more abstract, are harder to make longer. But please appreciate it, I'm very proud of it.
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Leap Of Faith
FanfictionA leap of faith means to attempt something that you can't predict the outcome of. A leap that can lead to the best or the worst.Sophie Foster had taken that leap when she went to The Lost Cities with Fitz the first time. She had trusted her insticts...
