A Real Beauty by oshun

Tyelkormo and Irissë, allowing their steeds their heads, had shot out in front of their cousins and brothers. They finally slowed to a walk as they drew close to an outcropping of woodland to one side of the grassy plain. The verdant scent of leaves, cool and damp, reached out to Tyelkormo like a promise or a seduction.

“Hey, Turko,” said Irissë, her voice low, weighted with conspiracy.

“What?” he asked, dragging out the word. One never knew with Irissë. She could turn fey without warning.

“Wait for them? Or lose them?” She canted her head in the direction of the wood. “What do you think?”

“No question!”

When they had finally stopped, well within the thicket, it seemed natural to reach up and grab Irissë by the waist to help her dismount, although certainly not his practice. He could not take his eyes off her face.

“What are you looking at now?” Irissë snapped.

“I’m looking at you.” His quavering voice betrayed him in an irritating way.

“Am I that homely? Or do I have dirt on my face?”

“Nothing like that. You’re just so beautiful.”

She threw her arms around his neck. “It’s taken you long enough to notice.” 

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