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Without another word, the elf quietly embraced the girl, pulling her close into his soft, yet strong arms, his slender-almost-gaunt form betraying a power that Jena did not expect. When she looked into his eyes, she could almost picture him as royalty - he would have made a handsome prince in another time, another life, perhaps. Perhaps, he would be still be able to be one in this life. But even picturing him as one did not change the fact that, Aeriah was Aeriah, and he was still the elf she knew, and no matter what he said to her, it would not change that fact, and she could not see him as anything other then the elf she knew. His kind smile, his warm eyes, his genuine laughter... all of this fitted and suited him so well, and yet, so did the image of a prince. Perhaps...perhaps he could be both. Perhaps, he would choose another path in life. Aeriah's own eyes remained mysterious and he said little on the matter, content to hold her close, soothe her hair and in his own way, seek her comfort by merely holding her.
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