Chimera Fields there's frost on every window

Whether his mind deceived him or not, he was on the verge of breaking that usually public careful apathy as he saw a cloud detach from the sky and peek from behind the store of trees before him. It raced down the hill, and his legs near buckled from their rigid posture, his resort of calm posture wilting as he took in that face. It was that which angels themselves burned with jealousy over, and the sea glimmered a glitter a deep blue upon that masterpiece. She floated over the fallen debris, almost too pure to touch the taint of the earth, but only just. The Ivorian was right there, and breath held in his throat as surprise strangled him. Her voice pulled the lodging from his windpipe, and warmed those iced veins enough for him to release that bated breath in her name. Everything he had done from the time he had served her, had been in her name. Ever since he had reunited with the fae, it was to remain with her. And thus he was alive all over again. 

“Gwen...” It was a name he hadn’t believed himself capable of speaking until he had seen her again. It still ruined him to know he had to leave her to make something for them. But she had reassured him, and that strove him forward. Here and now, his dreams became reality however, as she dashed to him. Regardless of Phex being there or not, he tossed away the professionalism he kept and darted forward, eclipsing the fall floor with his shade as he was near liquid darkness rushing to his light, rather than running from it. 

And there he was, chest to chest with the ghost of his mind, spirit and will. Here he was with the woman who held the key to his heart on a winter chain just above her own beating lifeline. As usual, his own habits had come to haunt him as he restrained himself from indulging his desires to drown her in an avalanche of kisses. Wintry irises scanned the forest lands behind the plume of her immaculate coat, searching for any hidden enemies or villains who might come to steal her from him. He wanted to preoccupy himself with it, to force himself to remain focused, as everything in him rebuked the way she had made him feel. The artic woman cast him in a cascade of warmth and feelings of release that his mind simply couldn’t understand, yet. A tortured mix between the unending need to serve and protect her, and some scandalous drive to step over those lines drawn to enact-

Damn, he was shameful to admit he was in love with her, even to himself. He couldn’t pull those glacials from the trees, his face stuck in focus as if waiting for something to meld out of the tree bark itself and bear down upon them. 

“I-“ he began. Clearing his throat, he gave a subtle swivel of both banner and ear to the youth he had traveled with here. “This is Phex. She is one of ours. En route to pursue Ambassador and potentially scouting for Shadewood.” 

He could introduce and identify everyone else, but not himself, nor his feelings for the woman he reported to. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to scantily look a pass over the wintery woman’s perfection. “There’s a few more at home,” he idly continued.