The wind had turned colder by morning, slipping through the trees like a whisper of warning.
Elowen stood at the edge of the old orchard, her fingers brushing the twisted bark of an ash tree. Her heart was quieter today, though not still. It pulsed with something unfamiliar—a kind of ache that wasn't entirely painful.
Orielle was near. She always was now.
"I shouldn't be here," Orielle said, appearing from between two branches. Her cloak was damp from the dew, and her cheeks pink with wind.
"You always say that," Elowen replied softly, without looking at her.
"Because it's always true."
"And yet… you're here."
Orielle exhaled, her breath curling like mist between them. "You know what the elders would say."
"I don't care what they'd say." Elowen turned then, meeting Orielle's gaze. "They don't feel what I feel."
Orielle looked at her, something fierce and fragile in her expression. "You don't know what you're asking."
"I'm not asking anything," Elowen whispered. "I'm choosing."
They stood like that for a moment, the forest holding its breath around them. A hawk cried somewhere above, sharp and distant. Leaves trembled overhead, spilling pale gold down like scattered blessings.
Orielle took a step forward.
Elowen didn't move. Not away. Not forward. Just still, waiting.
Orielle reached out—but not to touch her. Her fingers hovered just beside Elowen's cheek, the air between them thick with the kind of longing that made time slow.
"I can't," Orielle breathed.
"Because it's forbidden?" Elowen asked.
"Because if I do," Orielle said, voice trembling, "I won't be able to stop."
Elowen's lips parted, but no words came.
Then, slowly, like the soft fall of dusk, Orielle let her fingers close the space. She touched Elowen's cheek, her palm warm against the chill in the air. The touch wasn't urgent—it was reverent. Like she was memorizing her.
Elowen closed her eyes. Her heart beat so loudly she was sure Orielle could hear it.
"I thought," Elowen said, "that love would feel like fire. But this… this feels like rain after a long drought."
Orielle didn't speak. Her thumb moved gently along Elowen's jaw, tracing the line of a truth that neither of them had dared say aloud.
Then Orielle pulled back.
Too soon.
"Someone could have seen," she said.
"I hope they did," Elowen replied.
Orielle laughed softly, but it was a sad sound. "You always were the brave one."
"No. I just finally stopped hiding from what hurts."
Orielle looked at her, eyes shining. "And what if loving me hurts you in the end?"
Elowen stepped forward, pressing her forehead lightly against Orielle's. "Then it will be the sweetest pain I've ever known."
They stayed that way for a moment longer, hearts in sync, shadows curling at their feet. It wasn't a kiss. Not yet. But it was more than a promise.
It was the beginning of a choice.
A dangerous one.
But beautiful, too.