i am the mace, the map, the fall and the high
She pulls away and he fights the urge to pull her right back. But Reave is hardly one to spoil such games. No, he finds himself rather enjoying the tension that has begun to build between them, coiling tighter and tighter until it feels as though it might snap altogether. He is greatly looking forward to the moment it does.
Her reply only causes the grin on his lips to grow and the gleam in his eyes to deepen. He rather enjoys surprises.
When she recalls a memory of their youth, the vision of them fluttering between them, he peers at it curiously. He remembers the moments, the wildness they had shared. He had been filled with grief he did not understand and she with rage that the world did not understand her. Together they had been flint and tinder.
He doesn’t answer her question immediately, instead expanding the vision, wrapping the trappings of the meadow around them. As their gazes meet, Reave’s lips quirk in faint recognition. “There are not very many that do understand,” he replies, stepping closer, replacing the vision of their youthful counterparts with the present. “Even now.”
He moves even closer, eliminating the distance she had put between them. There is a gleam in his eye that could be either dangerous or alluring, depending on how one cares to look at it. “But I would much rather look to the future,” he continues, mouth now inches from her cheek. “Wouldn’t you?”
reave
@[galadriel]