“A saw? I’m not familiar with that word.”
He stares at her again. “It’s a metal tool with a sharp edge and teeth for cutting wood. How in the world did you plan to fell a tree without a saw?”
“I hadn’t thought about it yet.” She shrugs. “I assumed there was a way. How do we turn trees into building wood?”
“We call them boards or lumber, and I have no idea. Likely more saws. Tools we don’t have. And even if we did, we’d probably cut off our fingers trying to use them.”
Why does the air suddenly feel chilly? Elowyn wraps her arms around herself, trying to hold on to some of the warmth that left as he spoke.
“I’m sorry, El. That came out harsher than I intended.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out before pulling her into his arms. “I promised to help you chase your dragons, and I’m just poking holes in your dreams. Forgive me?”
The chill from moments ago evaporates as quickly as it came. Is his warmth chasing it away? Or did his words affect the air around them?
Perhaps they just affected her. She’s not one to be easily hurt, but Rominy’s words did sting a little.
She’s also not one to hold grudges. “You’re already forgiven, my love.”
He holds her closer and rests his cheek against her hair. “I am sorry. I want to make this dream of yours a reality if it will put that smile back on your face, but I’m at a complete loss here. I have no idea what we’re doing.”
“Perhaps the heartlanding can help.” She looks up at him. “It might not give us the treehouse outright, but perhaps it will give us the tools and materials we need.”
“It’s worth a try.” He clears his throat. “I wish for boards and nails and hammers and anything else we might need to build this treehouse.”
When piles of building supplies and tools appear before them, a smile steals across Elowyn’s face.
“There she is,” Rominy whispers. “There’s my Elowyn with the sparkling eyes and gorgeous smile.” He nuzzles her nose as he rests his forehead against hers the way her people do. The gesture fills her with a sudden longing for her family.
“Grandmera told me elves touch foreheads to signify the devotion you feel for the people you love most in the world,” he murmurs.
Elowyn’s breath hitches at the timbre of his voice. “It’s...it’s a gesture of belonging.”
His breath is warm on her lips, and she slides her eyes closed.
“And what does a kiss mean?” he whispers.
“Adoration. Romance. Love.” She barely pushes the words out. If she was cold moments ago, she’s not anymore.
His lips graze hers as his hand slides around her waist. “And touching your ears?”
The thought of his hands on her ears again sends fire through her. “A touch more intimate than a kiss.”
Hepresses his hand into her back until her body melds against his, and he whispers in her ear, “And the most intimate of encounters?”
“It means...everything. We...we call it the joining.” She leans her head back as his lips tease her neck.
“The joining. I like that. We’re so bad at this.”
“At what?”
His touch feels perfect to her. Inexperienced, perhaps, but perfect all the same.
“At listening to Tharios. You drive me crazy, love.”
Tharios. Whistling wind.
She groans.
“You’re already hot,” he whispers. “Tell me to stop.”
