At Eldermore Harbor

The western sunset glimmered like dancing stars of orange and gold across the shimmering surface of the harbor as the wind sailed softly across the surface. It was chilled, bringing with it the tang of salt and sand and seaweed as it tousled sandy locks. He brushed them from his face and inhaled deeply. He loved the sunsets here at Eldermore, when the sea breeze was calm and fair and the clouds were trimmed with golden light; it seemed peaceful: one could almost forget there wasn’t a war going on just mere miles away.

Like the world wasn’t burning alive.

Almost forget. Greyson exhaled harshly, turning away from the serene scene and instead gazed up to the castle before him. The grey granite walls gleamed in warm hues against the radiant sun as it set behind him, and for a moment, it, too, appeared to be ablaze. He shook himself free of the vision, eyes of brilliant blue blinking rapidly to disperse the image, when he caught a glimpse of her on the balcony above.

In the firelight, silken tresses of sable-brown danced in the evening breeze, and she crossed her arms absently against the chill. Princess Alessandra… Greyson’s gaze lingered over her, transfixed – unable to move away.

She was limber and tall, still dressed in her leather travel jerkin and tunic, and supple black boots. Gauzy sheers from the window danced in the breeze around her, and her gaze seemed to be lost somewhere between the stonework of the harbor and the slow-setting sun as it lazily painted the sky. Even with the distance, he could see the fire dancing in her eyes, the fierce resolve only made more resolute with sunbeams.

When he’d first promised to kidnap her a week ago from her castle in Bellshire to escape her tyrannical mother, Greyson hadn’t known he’d become so drawn to her. It wasn’t until they’d crossed the border and seen the destruction her mother had caused in Oakenwell that Alessandra had really known what atrocities her mother would commit. In that moment…they had shared something. It was soft, and hesitant; lips brushing, barely touching, parting…timid and fragile and scared.

And, like a wave against the shore, the moment was gone.

Something on her cheek caught the light, but she quickly brushed it away. Despite the distance, their glances met, and a soft smile crossed her lips. But the moment between them was fleeting, like the sound of a distant gull, and she turned away to disappear inside. Since that night, his mind had lingered over those lips, soft and velvety like a rosebud thumbed lazily by a morning breeze. Greyson longed to hold her close, run his fingers through long strands of dark hair, take in the sweet fragrance that was her. He’d wanted nothing more than another chance to kiss her, to be less hesitant, less afraid…

But…Alessandra was a princess: the crowned heir to Bellshire, and the kingdom of Ambervale. What was he to her but just another commoner – and a petty rogue at that? Surely, her emotions had gotten the better of her, clouded her judgement. After all, why would she chase the likes of him when she could have any noble she set her sights on?

Sighing, Greyson turned on his heel from the empty balcony, letting himself drown instead in the warmth of the sunset. Goose skin prickled on his arm as the sunlight hit windchilled flesh and he caught himself shuddering slightly as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. He licked chapped lips and took in a deep breath laced with ocean mineral and sand.

The distinct heel-toe of gentle, deliberate footsteps drawing nearer drew him out of his thoughts, and he whirled; before he could stop himself, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Ally,” he said unexpectantly, before clearing his throat, “Or, erm, I guess it’s Princess Alessandra now that we’re at the castle.”

“No…” she answered softly, her words like the musical notes of a windchime upon the sea breeze. “For you, it’s always Ally.” He grinned, a little puckish, a little shyly, and heat rose in her cheeks – though it might have been the orange glow of the sunset playing tricks on him. “What are you doing down here? I thought you’d be in town with the others.”

“Nah,” Greyson chuckled. “They wanted to go to the pub, and I wasn’t much in a drinking mood.” His gaze lingered over her, and he felt the heat creeping into his own cheeks now; he quickly turned back to the sunset. “Besides, the sunset at the harbor was too much to pass up tonight.”

“Civilians aren’t typically allowed at the harbor,” she reminded him coyly.

“Which…is why I had to come see it, y’know, once,” Greyson countered. “After all, we common folk don’t get to see this every day.”

“It is beautiful…” her voice trailed; she fell silent, as did he, both settling their gazes on the light dancing across the water. Distantly, he wondered where her mind traveled; did she daydream about the scene before them? He imagined that it could be fairy wings or maybe the shimmering scales of some sea creature. Perhaps jewels of some lost treasure drifting to the surface and wavering against the whitecaps.

He stole a sideways glance at her; bright alabaster skin glowed in the sun’s rays, marred only by worry and regret. That light danced in dark eyes, slightly puffy, slightly red, but unwavering in resolution. And those lips…

“How did your meeting with the king go?” he asked finally, and the sadness flickered over her features just briefly before she managed to mask it.

“He was grateful I came to see him,” Alessandra began. “He and my father were friends, and so he’s been worried about me since my mother’s conquest began. I told him I wished to speak with her, but I think we both know…there is little it will do at this point. She is beyond even what I can hope to reach…” Her voice trailed and silence settled over them for a moment, only broken by the gentle lapping of waves against stone. Finally, she sighed. “He’s planning to surrender, and sign the treaty,” she said finally, “And as much as I don’t want to give up…I can’t blame him.”

“But his people want to fight!” Greyson argued, and she shook her head.

“Can you blame him?” she demanded. “After we saw what mother did to the innocent people of Oakenwell – after what happened to the Kingdom of Hazelbrook, your home?!”

“You don’t need to remind me,” he answered tersely, and he turned away to take leave of her.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” she said, grasping his arm. “I know…” she added softly. “You…lost everything and my mother…my kingdom…I’m responsible.”

“Ally, you’re not –”

“But how can you blame the king for wanting to protect his people?” she asked him again. Cerulean eyes met hers, and for a moment, she found herself lost in them, drowning somewhere among the ocean waves until finally he looked away again.

“I don’t blame him,” Greyson ceded. “But…if we just give up…if we don’t fight…what’ll happen to the people then?” His question lingered on the breeze like sea spray and she considered him; coarse, sandy hair danced wildly across his face and neck as the wind picked up briefly. She gave a soft sigh.

“I wish I knew,” was all Alessandra could manage, for she knew nothing of her mother’s plans – of the true reason behind her conquest of the kingdoms. “All I know…is I wish I could make it stop…stop the fighting…the death…” A hand brushed over her cheek as she turned away from him, back towards the harbor; the sun had nearly set, the hues of gold and orange fading to amber and indigo as it sank lower over the horizon. Shades of auburn and bronze trimmed lazy clouds and pelican wings, and she took in a deep breath. “I wish I could make her who she was before all of this – before my father passed and she became this…this power-crazed monster that I can’t even recognize.”

Her shoulders shook and an almost silent sob escaped her, and Greyson’s brows furrowed. Quickly, he approached her, placing a hand on her shoulder – much less hesitantly than he had that night in Oakenwell.

“I know…” he offered softly, and she drew into him, pressed against his shoulder and sobbed quietly. He embraced her, hands gently caressing her, comforting her, and she sniffled. He smelled of cedar and sea breeze, and she swallowed sharply as she brushed the tears from her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she managed.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he responded quickly, and she shook her head as she scrubbed her face with her hands.

“I’m supposed to be this regal, strong, steel-faced princess – I don’t mean to keep falling apart on you,” Alessandra continued absently, and her gaze met his. Her eyes were like deep tide pools glassy with tears and he smiled back at her.

“Ally, you don’t need to be a princess with me,” Greyson responded. He gave her a puckish grin then, and added, “It’s not like I’m some noble with expectations. I’m just…me…” She chuckled softly, and he was glad to hear her laugh… But he was just him…and he knew what it meant as he gazed back at her, at those eyes, those tear-streaked cheeks, those lips, like rose petals…

“What is it?” she queried suddenly, and he blinked himself free.

“Nothing,” he lied, letting his eyes fall to the lingering glimmer of sunlight as it peered over the horizon. It radiated over them, through them, the warmth embracing them despite the chill, and he took a step back. “It’s getting late – we should probably turn in,” he added quickly, but her hand held his firmly. Her eyes didn’t waver from him.

“It’s about…what happened in Oakenwell…isn’t it?” Alessandra asked quietly, and he couldn’t bring himself to meet her gaze. Instead, he watched a cormorant as it skidded to a halt on the fading shimmers of sunlight, preening seawater from its wings as it bobbed on the waves. A pair of gulls cried overhead, and the cormorant seemed to consider them briefly before going back to its work. Finally, he swallowed, tasting the bittersweet sea salt from the breeze as he did, and licked his lips.

“I know what that was,” Greyson muttered, still not letting his eyes meet hers.

“Do you?” She scoffed to herself, placing a hand on her hip and she frowned. “Then why can’t you even look at me?” Blinking, his eyes fluttered to her, her figure now illuminated in the vestiges of sunlight and the pale glow of the rising moon beneath a shroud of velvet indigo and starlight. Heat rose in his cheeks when his eyes met hers, and he was grateful that night would help veil it.

“It’s just – I mean – I-I…you’re a princess, and I-I’m…” He stammered as she approached him. Dim light glowed on her face, and somehow, she was even more beautiful in the darkness than she had been in the firelight of sunset. Her fingers touched his, softly at first so that heat tingled between them. But then, she interlaced one hand, the supple skin of her hand smooth and almost porcelain against his own weathered and chafed hands. She moved closer to him, though he hesitated as he watched her hands intertwine with his own. His eyes moved up her body back to those lips, and they moved subtly in the moonlight.

“Kiss me.” The words were so softly spoken, Greyson would have believed they had been imagined among the sea breeze if he hadn’t seen them escape over her lips. His heart fluttered and rose and swelled, and his hands grasped her wrists as he pulled her close.

There was no hesitation this time, no trepidation. Greyson's heart raced as their lips finally met in a passionate embrace. In that moment, titles and social standings meant nothing; they were simply two people, connected by a bond forged in the midst of war and chaos. There was a fierceness, a longing, a desire - there was no fragility. It was the first time they felt truly as one, truly right. As their lips parted, Greyson rested his forehead against hers, their breath mingling in the cool evening air.

"I thought you might never want to kiss me again," he confessed, his voice laced with a mixture of relief and uncertainty. Alessandra shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"How could you think that?” she asked breathily as those tears threatened to spill over like water from a breaking dam. “What we shared... it was special. It gave me hope when I needed it most." She smiled, and a tear teetered and fell as her eyes lingered over his. “You give me hope.”

Her lips brushed his once more, much more softly this time before she nuzzled into his shoulder and let her gaze find the view over the Eldermore harbor. The horizon was trimmed in fire as the last of the sun sank below the ocean and mixed with the pearly haze of moonlight as the waves gently lapped at the stone wall before them. Greyson followed her gaze, embracing her tightly against the night-chilled breeze as it danced around them.

He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring; but at least he and Alessandra could face it together.