Beautiful Lofty Things (repost)

Went spelunking on the old Scroll and found this Timmain/Savah snippet I wrote many moons ago...it's actually not too bad! Reposting here because I hope to build on it again one day.

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Savah knew that Timmain is a Firstcomer and, more recently, a wolf. The High One was a stranger to this world and to the ways of elfin society, always a little out of place no matter where she went.

The Mother of Memory understood this. She understood the otherness of Timmain and expected her to behave differently from everyone, even her own descendants. She anticipated cryptic words and sendings that could bring even the dark healer of the Gliders to her knees, and she welcomed them.

What Savah did not anticipate was the feeling that she was being hunted.

The Mother of Memory tried on many occasions to speak with Timmain, only to have the elder slip away and hide just out of sight. She never answered Savah's sending calls, nor did she ever approach Savah. No one could tell Savah where the High One hid herself, or what she did  in her solitude. For all intents and purposes, Timmain did not even exist in Sorrow's End.

Savah did not pretend to understand the Firstcomer, and thus continued in her duties to the Village. Yet no matter where she went, she could always feel the weight of that ageless stare on her.

This disturbed Savah, who could just barely recall a childhood lived in fear of yellow eyes glinting just outside the ring of firelight.

Savah was certain that there was no threat behind the High One's actions, but that did not make it any less unsettling when she looked out her window one tranquil night and saw Timmain standing many strides away, staring intently at Savah's hut.

Savah's heart immediately leapt into her throat, pounding like a chased ravvit's. Breathless and dizzied by emotions she could not name, Savah watched Timmain until she finally turned and left, leaving neither trace nor answer.

Every night thereafter, Timmain held vigil over Savah's hut. Ever watchful, Savah knew the High One moved a little closer each night.

She waited. With Timmain she somehow knew it was best to wait.

The moons waxed and waned thrice before Savah awakened in the night to find Timmain sitting patiently outside her door, cloaked in silver hair and the tattered remains of a mothcloth sheath. The Mother of Memory slowly sat up and smiled at the High One, one slim hand held out in greeting.

Slowly, awkwardly, Timmain returned the smile and got to her feet. Making no sound the Firstcomer climbed onto the bed behind Savah and carefully wrapped herself around the younger elf, nuzzling her narrow face into Savah's neck.

"You make me hunger. For many years I have gone without feeling such need...forgive me if I do not do it right."

Savah sighed and felt for Timmain's hands in the dark, found her fingers clasped over her middle. She curled her fingers through Timmain's and smiled.

"Do not fret. This is enough, more than enough."

She was speaking to herself, for Timmain already dreamed.

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Frankly I'm disgusted that this was not endgame and that Savah didn't elope with Timmain to go have adventures away from their melodramatic grandkids.

Savah would probably, out of everyone, come the closest to understanding Timmain. As a matriarch, as a survivor, as a magic user, as a mother who outlived her children...they have a lot of common experiences. I have a feeling that Timmain would end up breaking her heart eventually, though.