With the cold season coming to an end, the spring plantings to tend to, Nessima had not much time to enjoy first days of warm weather before a sudden cold snap had brought chill enough to the fields to frost over the the first of the seedlings. Silently she curses herself for having rushed them to soil when she knew full well the transition between seasons was one that could not be rushed.
But of course patience was one of the virtues she did indeed lack. At least that was something she was told often enough by both of her parents. It was a curiousity to many in the village. The pace of life was such that no one rushed about. There was much to do to be certain but more than enough time to do it and still be able to enjoy an evening chat amongst friends over a good hearty meal.
'Odd girl,' She'd heard that remark in hushed conversation amongst others in her settlement. A settlement of elves that have broken away from what she'd often heard referred to as 'Civilization.' A word which was often spoken as thought it were something istastegul. And their small corner of the world had remained unchanged her father had said for as long as he could remember. And at his ripe old age of 462 she supposed he knew well enough. Of course she herself couldn't see what was so wrong with change. But isolated as they were from the rest of world in a valley surrounded by the most treacherous of mountain paths that only the surest of foot dared to travel, change was something that was not likely to come.
Crinkling her deeply freckled nose, she drops the tall basket she carried filled with a fresh lot of seedlings and sets it on the ground. Pushing her copper red hair back behind her pointed ears she sets about the replanting. And with the many baskets that yet awaited her after he failed first attempt, it looked to be a very long day.
Inside the modest little farmhouse he shared with his wife Maerial and daughter Nessima, Glangos Gwaloth was pacing nervously. He would stop for a moment now and then and peer out the window before going back to pacing. His nerves made worse by the look given him by his wife as she prepared the afternoon meal.
"Stop looking at me like that will you?" Sighing in exasperation he holds out his hands and shakes them in frustration. "What's done it done I told you. It's too late to go back on my word now. Besides, it's likely the best thing for her. There's not an boy about here that's shown so much as an interest in her much less any prospect for marriage. You'll see it will work out just fine."
"So you keep telling yourself," Maerial, the image of what her daughter would look in a few hundred years give or take a dozen, glares at her husband with her bright green eyes blazing when she turns away from the stone hearth. There she was heating some venison with some of the root vegetables still left over from the previous harvest and the spoon she'd been using to stir, she waves at him in a reprimanding fashion. "You know as well as I if you thought it would work out fine you wouldn't be waiting until they come to collect her to let her know about it. "
Cheeks puffing up slightly, Glangos manages to look indignant and contrite both at once. "It will work out. It has to." And he peers out the window and looks down the path leading up to their home, there in the distance and unfamiliar figure.
Yes it did very much have to work out as Glangos was certain this was the man sent to retrieve their daughter.