Tomorrow, they would depart for the Windspear Hills. V and J had vanished into the forest for a bit of foraging; the Harper was insistent that the market could not provide everything they needed. Meanwhile, K had accompanied N as she replenished her stores of mystical sundries among the assorted merchants. Only he and A remained in the elevated clearing overlooking the town.
He busied himself with weapon maintenance, electing to sit on the largest rock (a smooth yet sloping seat). The hand-and-a-half was first. Ever so slowly, he worked the whetstone, in hopes of providing the Avariel with enough peace; still garbed in her mage's robe, she sat cross-legged on a blanket, spellbook tilted on a bag. Fingers exceptionally delicate glided beneath the arcane script. Occasionally, she would divert her gaze from the parchment to glance his way, but he happened to be thoroughly absorbed in examining the edge resting flat on his lap.
However, he eventually stopped to take in the scenery, equally admiring the greenery and scanning for threats. At this moment, A happened to finish committing another enchantment to memory; her head tilted away, azure eyes meeting those of the human. Momentarily stunned, he afforded her a light smile and firmly returned to work before the possibility of conversation could distract either of them from their tasks.
Internally, however...
"The gods delight in irony", he thought. Despite the ordeal several years past that deprived her of her heritage and ultimately left her grounded, she had - in the hair's breadth they had become acquainted - unknowingly taken his heart to unparalleled heights. Had she noticed? How could a mind so acute and senses almost preternaturally keen fail to discern the change? Still, if she was aware of him, she betrayed no sign of understanding.