Aniiee's inane ramblings

Dorian Pavus, you vain peacock, how I love you. 

Smörstekt lax, gräddstuvad spenat och fetaost. Kan det bli bättre? 

Att sova mellan 19 och 22 är en dålig idé. 

Böcker, böcker, böcker, böcker. 2000+ böcker. BÖÖÖÖÖÖÖCKEEEEEEER! 

Tack för att ni läste, och att ni tycker om mitt "språk".

Och självklart är alla tankar, åsikter och analyser välkomna =p

Och nu, något annat något annat. Detta riskerar att bli långt. Och i flera delar. Över kanske några dagar.

Igen, som jag skrev till Fredrik förut, om det är svårläst på engelska, släng in det i Google Translate. Inte perfektt, men hjälper kanske. 

Detta är en sk first draft skriven igår och idag så verkligen råmaterial.

_________________________________

Rowan Glaros is on his way home. For the first time in 6 years, he's going home to Embrim, and his family. And how long had it been before then? Three years? Four? He'd left for his travels when he was 20. 

There is so much he needs to share with them. So many discoveries, so much new knowledge. And Eiri. Rowan looks over at Eiri. The elf sits opposite him, staring out of the carriage window. He looks tired and thoughtful. No wonder, they've been on the road for two weeks. My bonded, Rowan thought affectionately, my darling future husband. My sweet mystery. Strange how we could live out whole childhoods in the same city and not meet until we were at the other side of Reutervit, a whole Realm away.

Rowan had to wonder how his family would react to meeting Eiri. In fact, he hasn't even told them Eiri exists. For some reason, it always felt wrong to him to put that in letters. His siblings would be thrilled, he was sure. His father would be warmly accepting, probably while surprised. His mother, temporarily disappointed. After all, her son was bringing home an elven man, instead of a human woman. There would not be a lot of prospects for grandchildren by her oldest son with that. But she would accept the arrangement, Rowan was sure. If nothing else, Eiri's quiet charm would win her over. 

Rowan reached out and took Eiri's hand, intertwining their fingers. Eiri's hand is ice cold, as usual. Rowan had noted earlier that his love didn't seem to understand the concept of gloves. Eiri's thoughtful expression, lightly chewing the inside of his lower lip, prompted Rowan to ask: "Are you worried?"

"Are you sure this is wise", Eiri asked. "Will your family really accept this? I am an elf, a man, and a mage. Gods know my family would not, were I to tell them."

Mildly surprised that Eiri even mentioned his family, Rowan rubbed Eiri's thumb with his own. "My family is not like yours", he said reassuringly. Truth is, he knows very little about Eiri's family, beyond the fact that they had some sort of falling out 11 years ago when Eiri was 17. "My parents might be mildly questioning for three minutes, but then they will see you as I do; as an intelligent, gifted mage and a caring, loving person with a heart of gold. You'll fit right in, whatever they might be expecting from me before they meet you."

Rowan let go of Eiri's hand, placed it on his cheek instead, and smiled conspiratorially. "And if they don't, we can always run away together."

Eiri scoffed with a smile, took Rowan's hand, and pressed it against his lips. "Know that if my father finds out that I'm back in the city, you will have to deal with an abduction in addition to that other investigation you're working on." Then, almost nonchalantly, he turned his gaze back to the city and sea ahead.