Drawn to stand straight, shivering tenderly as his fingers slid through her hair, Luin gasped softly, unaccustomed to such a familiar touch. Without thinking, her fingertips skimmed against the line of his chest, daring to touch his bare skin, unashamed to be half-undone in his eyes.
"Amin naa lle," she whispered to him, reiterating what she had already said once before. I am yours.
"Amin naa lle," he echoed back, repeating the words back to her, as much a vow as an endearment. "Mela en'coiamin," he whispered further, as he leaned closer, nearly close enough to touch his lips to hers. He put voice to his feelings, calling her the love of his life, an endearment that was never made lightly, given their longevity.
Wide lips parted in a fond, bright grin, her head shaking teasingly as her nose brushed his. "Your stinky, smelly life," she murmured playfully. "And I will always be there to point out when you need a bath. I promise."
He laughed finally at her teasing and tapped a finger lightly against the tip of her nose. "Just for that, you can wait for your kiss," he teased back, eyes shining brightly in the moonlight. He pulled away from her to pull off his boots and trousers with a playful smirk on his face.
"Oh, I'm very patient," she laughed, bending to remove her unlaced boots. It was the work of a few moments to remove her leggings and smalls, taking the opportunity to stretch fully without the constriction of any clothing. Like him, she was built more slight than most humanoids, a slenderness that was exacerbated by the toned line of her smooth muscles and the natural curve of her bust. She bore no scars, for elves healed quickly, and no blushes either - what was there to be embarrassed about?
Hal admired her unveiled beauty, a slender and willowy silhouette in the silver moonlight, feeling a wave that was more love than lust. As long-lived as they were, patience was one thing they could well afford. They had all the time in the world to sanctify their vows, Rhy'Din's twins moons their only witness, with the sacred act that would join them together, body, heart, and soul, as one. For now, he was having far too much fun teasing her. He turned to face her, the two of them mirroring the other as they shed their clothing. He didn't bother with the braids that held his hair back, smirking mischievously as he turned toward the water and dove in.
Luin chuckled at his mischief, choosing to make her way into the water with less of a splash, stepping down through the waterfall and into the pool beyond. The stream was fed by hot strings, though the water was no longer hot by the time it reached this place. It was warm enough to be pleasant, however, and before long she was floating, her red hair a cloud around her head as she looked up at the stars overhead.
Hal could have given an Olympic swimmer a run for their money, if he'd known what one was. Instead, he was more concerned with washing the vile blood from his hands and face and hair, reluctant to really touch her until they were both cleansed of it. He paddled there beside her, admiring her yet again, but unable to stop himself from disturbing her serenity by splashing her.
She spluttered, righting herself in a splash of her own to send a wave of water back in his direction as she laughed. "Come here, you terrible fiend," she told him, reaching fondly to pull him closer. She had no intention of doing anything intimate while blood still lingered on their forms, but those braids of his had to come out if he was going to completely wash the gnolls' marks from himself.
He laughed, a sound that echoed happily in the night, but made no effort to escape her. His eyes were still shining brightly in the moonlight, a warm smile brightening his face. "I, a fiend?" he echoed. "You are the one who has been teasing me!" he pointed out, catching her in his arms and brushing a finger against the tip of one curved elven ear. As innocent as the caress might have seemed, for an elf, the touch was familiar and intimate.
"And you are completely innocent, I suppose?" she countered, her own laughter rippling away into a heated gasp at the gentle sweep of his fingertip over the point of her ear. It was a touch only a lover could give, a sensitive place for many of their kind. Her eyes darkened with desire, but there was still patience there in her gaze. "Easy, m'emel," she murmured. "You still have blood in your hair."
He couldn't help but smirk again at her reply. "And you, on your face," he told her, just before he pushed her under, dunking her briefly but thoroughly. It wasn't very romantic, perhaps, but after the last few days of hunting and tracking, what they both needed was a little levity, a little fun.
Briefly, perhaps, but long enough for her to get a good grip on his hips and yank him down under the water as well, letting out a watery laugh as she kicked away from him to break the surface with a gasp. She trod water, watching his pale shape in the moonlight with sparkling eyes.
He went under with her, or just after her, and came up sputtering briefly, but grinning like a fool. "So, that's how it is, is it?" he asked, swimming after her. He had yet to unbraid the plaits that held his hair back, but he wasn't terribly concerned about it. All in due time. First, he wanted his vengeance.
"You started it!" she protested laughingly, swimming backward in the face of his grinning implications. "I was being nice, you started it!"
"You called me stinky!" he accused, forgetting momentarily that he'd accused her of that first. It wasn't hard to catch her, both of them as at ease in the water as they were on land, but instead of dunking her again, this time, his arms went around her waist, his feet kicking beneath him to keep him afloat. "Am I stinky still?" he asked, his face mere inches from hers.
She giggled as he caught her, long fingers hands smoothing up and over the line of his arms as they swirled together in the warm lap of the water. Leaning close, she made a show of sniffing him pointedly, exaggerating her need to think about it. "Am I?"
"Not anymore," he replied, his smile softening, growing warm with feeling. "Heart of my heart," he whispered, touching his forehead to hers. He needn't say more, those few words sharing what he felt in his heart - what he'd felt for some time now.
"Breath of my soul," she whispered back to him, her hands sliding over his skin to cup his jaw, fingers framing - but not yet touching - the sensitive tips of his ears as they lingered together in the water.
"I swear to love you all the days of my life, just as I love you now," he added that promise to those he'd already made, with only the night sky and whatever gods were watching to bear witness.