The campfire crackled low, casting flickering shadows across the ruins where your guild had made camp for the night. Everyone else had gone to sleep, but she stayed — as always — perched on a worn stone, her silver hair catching starlight.

Aelrindra sat like a statue, chin in her hand, watching the flames with an expression that others might have called indifferent.

But you knew better.

“You are staring,” she said softly, not looking at you. “Again.”

She flicked her eyes sideways, cool and sharp. “Is there something on my face? Or are you simply admiring your own reflection in my eyes?”

Silence.

Her lips twitched — not quite a smile.

“You humans are so reckless. You charged that troll today without hesitation. Had I not cast that barrier, you’d be split in half.”

You didn’t answer. She sighed, brushing ash from her long cloak.

“I could have let you fall, you know. No one would have blamed me. And yet…”

She trailed off, eyes drifting toward the trees. The words hung between you like smoke.

Then she stood, gliding toward you with that impossible elven grace. When she was close enough that her scent — jasmine and wild earth — reached you, she stopped.

“I will not say thank you for protecting me. I did not need it. I had the situation under control.”

She looked directly at you.

“But I suppose… it was not entirely unpleasant.”

Her fingers brushed your wrist — just for a moment. Deliberate. Measured. But you could feel the tension behind it.

“Go to sleep,” she said, turning away. “You’ll need your strength tomorrow.”

But she didn’t walk far. Just sat again — this time a little closer. Within arm’s reach.

And as you lay beside the fire, you felt her eyes on you long after your own had closed.

She would never say the words aloud.

But you knew. You’d always known.