My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World -
Chapter 742 - 742 Treasured Gesture
742 Treasured Gesture
Ash looked mighty abashed with herself.
I opened my door, and she was standing there looking as if she was hoping that I wouldn’t, and that now that I have, all her plans had just gone completely out the window.
“Should I ask why you’re out here?” I said, watching her squirm in cluelessness. “Or would you like me to guess instead? Got a pretty good hunch, actually…”
“Master,” Ash fell back to what she knew best, sinking her head down in a familiar bow. “I… well… would you… would you happen to be alone tonight, perchance?”
“For the time being,” I said, unable to help myself but grin at the sight of her twitching ears.”But not for very long, I suspect. Not if you can help it, that is.”
Ash didn’t seem to appreciate my teasing tone. “May I come in?”
“Of course. Not sure why you’re even asking permission,” I added, stepping off to the side. “Unless you feel like you’re doing something that you shouldn’t.”
She didn’t answer, only walked, entering the mundanity that was my bedroom, but she didn’t seem to think so… treading every inch like she had entered a realm unfamiliar. I closed the door shut after her, and her ears twitched again… the door click as if like lighting zapping her muscles rigid.
I don’t know what’s got her so nervous…
.....
“So…” I shuffled past her, slouching and hunching at the edge of my bed, peering up at her tense figure. “Don’t know if you know, but it’s Christmas Eve tonight.”
Her eyes almost seem to glisten sharper at my words.
“I’m aware,” She said quietly.
“Then clearly, you’re a hundred times better than me at this whole relationship thing,” I said. “Because it completely slipped my mind until about a couple minutes ago.”
“As I know of it, the occasion is typically commemorated basking in the company of family and friends,” Ash said, addressing it as if reciting it from the first definition she found off Google. “I… I would presume it is also a moment of deep intimacy between lovers.”
“Presume?” I gave her a look. “Well, I would presume that that’s what you’re here for, are you not?”
To my absolute surprise, Ash shook her head and it didn’t at all seem like she was hiding behind a shield of pretense.
“I am here because I simply wish to be, regardless of the day or occasion. To me, commemorations matter very little… when my day-to-day is already so very special. No, Master, I am here solely because I want to be.”
That goes both ways, apparently. Here she was, snow-white locks freshly damp from a shower, draped in a silvery nightgown that didn’t exactly fit, the edges of the thin skirt folding over her feet. In a lot of ways, Ash looked just average, normal, but in a lot more ways, all I could see of her was something special.
Ash began to move again, her body first, with her legs lagging slightly behind, clamped down by hesitation. It was then I noticed, the distance closing in, that I hadn’t actually seen her hands this whole time. She had them held behind her back, and they wouldn’t budge a single inch.
‘You’re hiding something there,” I pointed out, feeling the mattress sink as she gracefully settled down close to me. “Wait, is that supposed to be my—?”
“Your Christmas present, Master, yes,” the hallway had shed enough light to illuminate her smile, the motions for her hands, as she slowly raised them toward me. “The reason I am here.”
I remembered wanting to say something, whether or not I actually did was another matter entirely. Every sound, every movement I made after, was just me simply trying to get a better look at what Ash had gotten me.
She had it held in both hands, and it looked small, but not too small. I finally felt sensations in my arms, and I lifted them, reached out and instantly I felt my palms take the shape of something curved, something bristly… and something too startlingly familiar. The soft crunch of brittleness, flaky, fragility, I know this…
“How peculiar a thing it is, Master…” Ash drew her hands back, laying them on her lap. “To replace a facet of your world’s customs intertwine with mine.”
It was a wreath. Ash got me… made me a wreath. A crown of dried stems, withered leaves, so far apart from the lush greens and reds of the kinds I was accustomed to seeing at this time of season.
Holding it here in my hands felt… weird. I move too fast, grip too tight, and it felt as if it might just unravel or crumble at the slightest of both.
“In my world, Master, you see…” She began to explain, turning faintly red peeking at my expression. “A wreath, the shape of it, curved in its jaggedness, coarseness and many imperfections, resembles a word inscribed in my native tongue.”
“That word being ‘love’, I’m guessing?” I asked.
Ash smiled. “Fondness, devotion, loyalty, and yes… love, in its most purest, barest form.”
A jagged, uneven, circular shape that symbolizes a love unwavering. Wonder where I’ve seen that before? What’s more, a symbol derived from a word in Ash’s language, a language her race shared with the Divines.
Hmm, interesting…
“It is a tradition of us Elves to bequeath a wreath to the person they should most cherish…” Ash said, glowing even redder.
And all of a sudden, I was taken back to a scene, to the time long past, to a meadow of bountiful flowers and a young, little Elf happily placing a wreath of flowers atop her sister’s head.
“You might recall… that my sister, before, had acquired a fond habit of handing out her wreaths rather flippantly. If you… if you remember, that is.”
Wordlessly, I gazed at Ash for the longest while. This was the first time in a long time she’s ever brought up her sister in conversation… and in this setting, no less. Though she was still smiling, her green eyes still glowing warm, I wasn’t really sure what exactly she was feeling.
“I… I confess, when compared to other, grander alternatives, my offer may appear quite inadequate,” She nervously said, her eyes briefly flicking to my chest. “But I hope, and I know, that surely you’d replace more meaning in the gesture itself than what you were given,” then acting opposed to her words, her ears squirmed in place, her gaze fell, and quietly, she asked me. “You do, Master, don’t you?”
I didn’t think, I didn’t even have to feel – I just knew. What I had held, what I had just been given… it was beyond anything I could even think to ask for.
Carefully as I could, I placed the wreath on top of my head, and in my thoughts, I remembered Lenora, I remembered the sweetest smile on her face… the very same smile that was now forming on Ash’s lips. The resemblance was uncanny. Sisters…
One and the same, these two.
Their kindness.
Their love.
I’ll cherish it.
“If I weren’t already so in love with you, this is where you’d win my heart,” I said, unable to help myself but place a hand on her cheek, wanting to hold her, touch her. “Over and over again, I just keep falling even harder. I don’t know how you keep doing it.”
“Master…” relief, resounding in the most adorable chuckle, the softness in her gaze. “Shall I presume my gift was more than satisfactory then?”
“Thank you,” I said, whispering, leaning, my lips pressing lightly onto hers. Her ears twitched again, reciprocating, kissing back. “From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”
After a while, It was her that broke away first, rising to her feet, flustered, and attempting in vain to regain her knightly composure.
“N-Now, then,” She declared firmly, clearing out a hitch in her throat. “If… If there is nothing else. I suppose I shall be taking my leave. Goodnight, Master.”
Ash began to move away, striding off in the direction of the hall. Too slow, too late, she couldn’t even take a step before I had her by the wrist, before I was already pulling her back toward me.
She whirled around. “Master?”
“Stay,” I said, embracing her as she fell on the bed. “I want you to stay.”
Her pointy ears were fluttering as happy as can be, alas her tightening expression was telling a different story.
“I… I cannot, Master,” She said begrudgingly. “Adalia is… she might be arriving home any moment now. I wish not to impose myself.”
Again, her mind and heart were clashing. Desires and obligations opposing.
I knew where she was coming from. My date with Adalia, she was much too kind to deliberately put herself between us. Christmas was Adalia’s.
Except it wasn’t Christmas just yet.
Not yet.
“Stay,” I said again, taking her hand in mine. “It doesn’t have to be for long. Just long enough…”
Ash shuddered, her breath quivered… and in the soft glow of her eyes, she silently considered.
“Only… only until Adalia comes home, then.”
“Fine by me,” I smiled. “Just until she comes home.”
And so stay she did, finally.
Slowly and gently, she eased herself. The two of us scooting, shifting until we were both comfortably entwined in each other’s arms, sharing each other’s warmth, as the snow continued to pour and the night lingered on.
Face-to-face. My eyes immersed in hers, and she in mine. There was really nothing I wanted to say, but yet inversely, there was so much I wanted to express. And here, staying like this, was the only way I could let them manifest.
This feeling.
This emotion.
This love.
“Merry Christmas, Ash,” I said, as everything else dissolved, everything else disappeared.
Everything beside her.
She smiled again, and in a bliss, finally her reservations dispelled, her eyes fell shut… allowing herself this brief, short moment of us two.
“Merry Christmas, Master.”
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