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Tuesday, 12 March 2019

The Garden Party

   Rathen blinked. "Pardon?"
   "A garden party!"
   The bewildered furrow in his brow only deepened as Aria jumped up and down in the cramped little sitting room, beaming enormously, hands clasped hopefully at her chin. "You want to go to a garden party?"
   "Yes!" Her grin broadened. "An elf lady is having it!"
   Darkness flashed through his eyes. "An elf--"
   "Nooo," she hurried towards his seat appeasingly as the book snapped shut in his hands, "an elf of the night! Purple skin! She said there will be tea and cakes and games, and I'd really like to go!"
   A weary sigh slipped through his lips. He sat forwards and smiled gently, brushing a stray curl from her face. "There are no 'elves of the night' in these woods, little one," he said softly. "I don't know what you thought you saw, but--"
   "I didn't see anything," she rolled her eyes, "I heard about it."
   "...You heard about it?"
   "You don't need the details."
   "I 'don't need the details'?" His eyes narrowed, then defeat weighed down his head. "Nug."
   "Yes. And I think he would know better than you if there are night-elves out in these woods, or some other ones somewhere else." She leaned forwards to try to catch whatever he was muttering beneath his breath, but he raised his head too soon. Her smile waned, but she compressed her enthusiasm into a round little pout and dropped her eyes to her hands. "Please?"
   "Sweetheart, you know why we can't."
   "No, but I know why you think we can't. You've been fine for months and months." Her big, blue-grey eyes lifted to his. But she said nothing else.
   Rathen sighed helplessly, trapped between the grip of that sad little gaze and his own deep-seated foreboding. He knew what she was doing. It was her way. It had always been her way.
   But...never without cause. She rarely asked for anything.
   His head hung in defeat once again, and he heard her squeal of excitement. "I'll go and get readyyyy! Oh - and make sure you bring her some flowers from the garden!"
   With a helpless smile, Rathen watched her race off so quickly she almost tripped over the table leg.

Probably not canon.
Drawn and written for Faebelina's #OCGardenParty



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