The Oak Walk

~Basically a walking path with large oaks on either side.~

Elchanan approched the Oak walk way, he took his time as Genevieve didn't appear to be there yet.

To pass the time he sat at a bench and took out a small flute like instrument and began to play.

Genevieve felt led to Elchanan as she waved away her ladies maids and heard his gentle flute melody. Her staff tapped every so lightly against the gravel and sand of the path as she approached him.

"A man of many talents, hidden and shown." she murmured, standing regally despite her dull ache in her chest. It always throbbed in walking; burnt in action and consumed in grief. Now if ached with desire.

Elchanan softened out the last note before putting the flute away and rising from the bench, his cane in hand he walked over to her.

"Thank you, as I am sure you are as well, Genevieve" he said offering her his arm for them to continue there walk.

"Hardly any of which would hold interest." Genevieve sighed, hesitating only a moment before tucking her free hand in his offered arm. The idea of using him to balance herself was strangely comforting, despite her mind's obvious need to assure her she had no such need.

"The harp is a melancholy instrument, for there I do play for the deepening of my sorrow." her voice held an odd mixture of lightness and steel, as if she were laughing through words but crying as well.
"The flute is as a bird, sharp yet plaintive, which warbling cries for others to come."

Elchanan titled his head looked at her in a sideways glance as he walked.

"I assure you Genevieve, I hardly think there are many thing interesting about me, yet you claim there is. Allow me to see what is interesting" he said quietly.

"I find the harp enchanting" he simply said.

"Very well." Genevieve replied, her staff making a dull thwack against a flat rock.

"I find I do not walk well, but my sitting is quite well done." her dry sense of humour left most torn between chuckling and/or nodding in concern, but she was fairly certain Elchanan would not mind that fact.
"Lady Mamya has suggested I get a cane, but my staff is more than sufficient."

Elchanan nodded "A cane isn't all it is cracked up to be" he said twirling his can in his hand with ease before setting it back on the ground.

"If you every wish to sit, I will not object in the slightest" he said

Genevieve glanced up at him, before her eyes fell back to the path before them.
"Would you object to anything I desired?" she asked softly, berating herself for saying it. The hand on his arm tightened slightly but she could have been simply balancing herself between him and her staff.

"Wodon hated walks. He used to complain that only the elderly walked as habit. But he did walk with me. Even if it was only to watch the sunset." she murmured. "He saw great beauty in the setting sun. I saw death in a sun waning against the night's victory... but he saw the life of dusk."

Elchanan chuckled at her question,"That all depends, with something as simple and peaceful as a walk.. who am I to object to your wish." he said.

His face went nuetral at the mention of his brother, trust him to complain about even the simplest of things.

"Without death Genevieve.. how does on define life?" he said as he gently gripped her hand. Though really to him... night was night and day was day.. a never ending circle.

Genevieve smiled, amused at his response. "You are a wise man." she admitted. Her eyes lifted once again to watch his face, uncaring that she was staring at him.

"Death and life follow each other as water and fire. Both are natural, yet both can be bent to suit the occasional desires of man. With death, there is but a passing, that which I do not fear. It is the desires behind said passing that disturb me. And thus I define life, for it would have no worth without death."

Elchanan nodded, "You are a wise woman Genevieve" he said. "You are quite right, life is worth nothing without Death... Though from what I have observed... Death can sometimes make life unbearable.. In more then one way..." he said trailing off at the last sentince.

It was his brothers death that made Genevieve so.... broken and that in turn toubled him.. Had his damned brother had any idea how him taking his own life would do to Genevieve? and just dump the horrible secret on her the moment before he died? Such as thing was better confessed before or left unsaid.

"Wisdom is born of years of pain and fear, Elchanan. Experience is a dangerous instructor, but a thorough one." She whispered. "Death can make life unbearable..." her mouth remained open as if she would continue, but she said nothing. She dropped her head and sighed deeply, the tight grasp on her staff tightening until her knuckles were white.

"You are too kind to force me to be silent." she murmured. "Pity... or love." she sighed, not looking at him, but out at the oaks on either side. "From my sons a mixture. From all else pity..."

Elchanan nodded his head slowly, and moved a hand to her shoulder, he noted her white knockles and he slowly rubbed his thumb on her shoulder.

"I do not pity you Genevieve" he said quietly, in truth pity was the furthest thing from his mind. He did care about her, very much. Wouldn't say he felt sorry for her, no he felt protective of her and wished to lighten the pain in her heart... pain his brother casued... Such a thought casued anger to cousre through him, but he hide it well.

"Perhaps love can make life more berable agian?" he asked. " It is but a question I ask you, for many years I have lived a half life in shadows. Can love lessen your pain? or only strengthen it?" he asked slowing to stand on the path to face Geneivieve.

Genevieve sighed softly as he gently rubbed her shoulder. It felt caring and soothing. Something that she honestly did not mind feeling from Elchanan. Love and pity were different and she trusted him not to deceive her.

"Ironic, for my shadowed life has also been un-whole." She looked up into his face. "Love can perhaps lessen my pain." she whispered. "But should it be harmed, it would be a final blow." Reaching up her hand, she touched his cheek. "But I shall risk my heart one final time." she smiled. "For you."

Elchanan gently took her hand and brought it to his lips, he kissed her hand and with a quick glance around he whispered a spell so no pesky guard could spy on them.

Then once again he smiled at her, only smile that he saved for her solely..

"Then I shall protect it from harm.." he said as he gently placed a kiss on her forehead. "As best I can, for as long as I live"

Feeling his lips against her hand as he kissed her, Genevieve smiled softly. His smile looked so real, untainted by desire or ulterior purpose. She momentarily considered, deeply, kissing his lips. No doubt his beard would be rough against her skin and she lifted her other hand to stroke said beard.

"Thank you." she murmured. It was time yet for such physical affections. She was a patient woman, and could wait.