I've always known Ferris to be a kind and gentle man. He and his workers have been coming to the castle for years. One morning a week since I was young, a pair of horses would bring his cart rolling past the castle gates of Elynarrah. Many times I would awaken to the squeaking of the wooden wheels as they rolled off the dirt road beyond the wall and onto the smooth, stone surface of our courtyard.
My window faced south, and with my room high in the tower, I could see beyond the wall to the road which led to Bellehan. On dry, hot days, a trail of dust would be visible from my perch before they were. It gave me enough time to get ready. I'd rush to get dressed and clean myself before their arrival. I'd tame my wild, silver hair from the ravishing my pillow gave it each night, being sure part it so it perfectly framed my thin, pale face.
This was the only time I ever got to see humans. None were allowed on the grounds unless they were conducting business, and even then they weren't allowed inside castle. I still remember the first time I saw him. It was two years ago during the summer. A strong storm had just passed when they approached the gate. Back then I always watched from my window. Humans intrigued me, but I was too afraid to meet with one face to face. I'd look on as the guards and servants unloaded the cart, inspected the wares, and bartered over the price.
From so high up, the only thing I ever saw were the tops of their heads. Until there were elves standing with them, it was hard to tell them apart from my own kind. Of course, once they were standing side by side, their differences were unmissable. It always amazed me how the elven guards could look up at the humans and still somehow be looking down on them. Mother and father taught me from a young age that humans still worshipped the wild gods. They were savages and brutes, neither interested in or capable of understanding the rich culture of the elves.
I always knew I was supposed to look at their world with disdain and disgust, and I certainly kept up appearances for my parent, but I never saw the humans the way everyone else did. The old gods they worshipped used to be our own centuries ago. The tales told of ancient elves who lived amongst the trees and lived off the land. They lived side by side with the humans, hunting together, building together, worshipping together.
Fucking together.
Time had seen our two races grow in vastly different directions. We elves moved to the plains, erecting bigger and bigger buildings and eventually castles that touched the sky. Our skills changed from hunting and gathering to business and bureaucracy. Our gods changed to ones that championed art and elegance. Manners and propriety became the law of the elven world, but the humans continued as they always had. Trade is all that bridges the chasm dug between our cultures now.
I'm sure Ferris had likely been on the caravan many times before I finally noticed him. Way down there, he was just another human, another faceless mop of hair running around my courtyard like an ant scurrying about the hill with the rest of its colony. All he did to make me notice him was look up. In all the years of spying on humans from my room, not once had any of them lifted their head to gaze at the stone spires towering over their heads.
When he looked up, our eyes met. Thank the gods I wasn't leaning far out the window because the shock made me lose my balance. I retreated back into my room, eyes wide and heart aflutter. He'd looked at me. A human dared to gaze into my eyes as I watched him from on high. I didn't know what to do next. A part of me was too scared to ever take up this observational adventure again, yet I found them too fascinating to consider such a thing. Cautiously I crept back to the window, tiptoeing through my room as though he could possibly hear my footsteps.
I peered over the ledge again, looking out like a frightened rabbit hiding in the brush. I saw him again and froze. He was still looking up. The sunlight lit his face and the wind played with his messy hair. Time stood still as we stared at each other. I can only imagine what unflattering expression my face must have held. My arms were wrapped around my chest, hands clutching my shoulders. As I watched him in fearful amazement, he simply smiled and waved.
By the gods, did he not know who I was? Did he not realize what he was doing? I was the princess of Elynarrah. Even an elf of high station was to bow humbly in my presence, not wave at me as though I were a commoner. Still, as perplexing as his greeting was, my response was even stranger. Unable to formulate the correct, proper reaction to such a brash action, I did what, for some reason, came naturally. I smiled, lifted my hand, and waved back.
That was my first interaction with Ferris. We exchanged no words. I wasn't even close enough to discern the color of his eyes. Still, that moment showed me that he could be kind. That he could be loving. Now, I'm learning all the amazing feelings he can draw from my quivering body.
