by Janice Ayre
Chapter Twenty Three
Home Coming
Brock walked back along the riverbank. It was strange, the surroundings were all so familiar but they seemed to belong to another lifetime. In his mind's eye he saw a young elf trailing miserably behind the tall, fearsome wizard and the stately lady. He remembered his thoughts about diving into the river to escape his captor. Now he could chuckle to himself at his ridiculous thoughts and actions.
He inhaled deeply of the fragrances of the flowering shrubs. His eyes feasted on the many colours and shades of leaves and flowers. This was a beautiful place and being there once more made him realise how much he had missed his town and the special people there.
As he neared home, he saw in the distance, a graceful figure. A young woman, oblivious to being observed, was stooping and picking strawberries to place in the basket over her arm. There was something about the movement of the girl that seemed familiar, but then of course, it had to be someone from his village. He hastened his stride that he might know who it was; the first person to meet on his return. As he approached, the maiden stood up and stared with wide eyes.
Brock looked in surprise at the young girl in front of him. This couldn't be the bossy girl from his childhood! Her form had blossomed, the skinny girl figure changed into gentle and feminine curves. Brock unintentionally let his gaze travel and linger too long over her, inducing a blush and downcast eyes from Yelena.
Giving an embarrassed cough, Brock tried to emulate a manly stance he'd seen young men effect when trying to impress a girl, but instead managed to look stiff and awkward.
Despite the fact that he was now considerably taller than Yelena, and he was supposedly a 'man of the world', he still felt intimidated by her. Fortunately he had regained some of his composure by the time she raised her eyes to look directly at him.
They stood close together, making uncomfortable conversation. This was madness, they had known each other all of their lives. They had quarrelled, they had hugged, and it seemed they knew everything there was to know about each other, but now Brock found his arms were suddenly too long, or at least there was something wrong with them for he couldn't find a comfortable place to put them. While they gazed over the landscape, talking about the weather and how tall some of the trees were now, Brock thought of putting his arm on Yelena's shoulders as he had done many times before. His arm hovered tentatively above its target, only to fall back down at his side. Fortunately Yelena was observing the scenery before them and didn't notice. At least Brock thought she didn't. But then quite suddenly she looked up at him and a beautiful smile lit up her face. Somehow he knew she had sensed his nearness and his hesitancy.
“It's good to have you back home. There is so much I. . . we have to tell you. And we'll all want to hear your adventures.” Her voice was soft and musical. It sounded different to Brock and he couldn't decide if he had forgotten or if she had changed so much.
“I am happy to be back. I do have much to tell.”
They had begun to walk slowly back towards the central part of the village. Brock desired to savour the moment, for now he was here he had many misgivings and felt strange. The lovely girl by his side distracted him, and while he desired to retain these moments, he also wanted to flee from them.
Brock sensed that Yelena was aware of some of his conflict and chose to lighten his situation by giving him a light and humorous recital of events of the last few years. Brock tried to focus his mind on the conversation but his mind wandered and he knew he heard little of the information. Occasionally Yelena would pause and glance up with a puzzled expression on her face. It was then he realised he had given an incorrect response.
By the time they had reached many of the houses, Brock felt uncomfortable and nervous. He was thankful he had resisted the temptation to send a message to notify his parents he was coming. It would be bad enough once everyone knew, but he wanted to try to make it home before he was recognised.
“I will leave you here and continue alone, if you don't mind. I want to see my parents before the whole town swarms on me.”
In reply Yelena leaned up to him and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. Feeling the heat come to his face he turned quickly away, giving a wave of his hand so that she would not think him rude.
Brock's parents were overjoyed to see him and while his mother hugged him and fussed over him his father stood with a grin from ear to ear. Zebulon had given them prior notice of Brock's homecoming but they had wisely kept the news to themselves. In that moment Brock knew how much they loved him, especially his father with whom he had had some strained relationships. A quiet family celebration dinner was enjoyed before they announced Brock's return to the villagers.
Happily the villagers organised a great celebration to be held in a few days time, with a huge feast and music and dancing. Much discussion was given as to whether the neighbouring village should be invited, some desiring it so they could show off to the Forest Glen elves who thought they were superior. Finally it was decided to enjoy the closeness of the village. This was quite overwhelming to Brock but while the preparations were being made, he delighted in the company of his old friends. Most of them were more greatly changed than he had expected for they had grown, voices had deepened and interests had changed.
Chet and Chad had young lady companions but usually a different one every few months. Brock was relieved to find that Yelena was far more sensible and chose to employ herself in more serious ventures. The time she had free from her labours she spent with Brock.
“Would you like to come on a picnic with me?” she asked one day.
“I'd love to!” Brock felt happy. He was enchanted with Yelena and seemed he couldn't have enough of her company.
“Good, I'll bring a picnic basket and meet you here in an hour.”
“What would you like me to bring?”
“Nothing. This is our little private celebration of your return,” she replied.
Brock was full of excitement and anticipation. He could hardly wait for the hour to pass. His mother raised enquiring eyes when he told her he wouldn't be home for lunch. As was her way, she asked no questions, only waiting for Brock to tell her if he wished to do so. She had always been patient and trusting of him. On impulse, he gave her a hug as he was leaving and was rewarded with a beautiful smile of happiness. It hadn't occurred to him before how she must have missed him.
Brock and Yelena arrived at the agreed meeting place together.
“Good,” said Brock, “We are both punctual.”
Yelena gave a smile in response.
“So where are we going?” he asked.
“Down by the pond where we used to play as children. Remember where we used to sit and talk? Or rather, I used to talk and you would dream. I never really knew if you heard much of what I had to say.” Yelena gave a short musical laugh.
“I heard more than you might think. But I was a dreamy fellow then. I'll be a lot more attentive now because I want to learn all about the things you have done while I was away and about your hopes and dreams.” Brock looked across at the maiden but she was busying looking around at the landscape. They carried the picnic basket between them but Brock would have preferred to carry the basket himself and used his free hand to hold hers. Little was said on the way to the pond except to comment on some plant or tree.
A few little ones were playing along the path leading to the pond but fortunately when Brock and Yelena reached the pond itself, they were the only ones there. Brock lay a soft blanket on the grass and Yelena began setting out the food.
“Look, I've brought all your favourites!” said Yelena.
Brock recognised some of the foods that he had loved, and others he couldn't remember whether he had liked or not. He didn't have the heart to tell Yelena that some of his tastes had changed. Everything looked really good so he had no difficulty in smiling in appreciation and thanking her. The way he felt at that moment, he probably would have thought caterpillar food looked and smelt great!
&nbs
p; After they had eaten they lay on the blanket gazing out at the pond and watching the swans swimming gracefully. Brock had always found the scenery peaceful and today was no different but he also felt the need to talk, to find out more about the new grown-up Yelena, but she seemed more lost in her own thoughts and he respected her desire for quietude.
After a time he broke the silence by asking, “Have you heard that Zebulon and Saniyah are to have their wedding at Frog Gully?”
“I heard some of the Elders talking about it this morning. Why do you think they would have their ceremony here instead of at the Glen....unless it is because of you! It is strange to think of you being so famous.”
“I'm not famous,” said Brock. “I am good friends with them though and I think they would like to share their special day with friends...and that includes everyone in the village. Besides, Zebulon has little time for the supposed superiority of the Forest Glen folk.”
“I just can't get used to the fact that you are so important now, and that you have actually lived with the Lady Saniyah and Wizard Zebulon.” Yelena looked across shyly at Brock.
Brock looked confidently into Yelena's eyes. “Have you ever seen the Lady Saniyah?”
“No, but I hear she is very beautiful.”
“She is! And she is good and kind.”
“Zebulon is very handsome.”
“I suppose women would find him so. They make a lovely couple.” Brock reached for Yelena's hand as he said this. She did not move but presently she raised herself to a seated position, disengaged her hand and began to occupy herself with packing the picnic things. “They are so very happy. It would be good to know such happiness. Do we have to tidy up yet?” Brock tried to regain her hand.
“I thought we might like to take a walk around the pond.”
“If that is your wish.”
This time as they walked Brock took Yelena's hand with a certain determination and mastery. Yelena accepted without a murmur and as they approached the water they were both engrossed by a mother swan swimming with her two baby cygnets riding on her back, snuggled up in the warmth of her luxurious feathers.
Yelena sighed a long contented sigh. “Isn't that so beautiful...To feel so protected and loved.”
Brock drew her closer and placed his arm around her waist. He felt no resistance, and there they stayed a long while lapping up the pleasure of the warm afternoon, while savouring the beauty around them. Brock would have been content to let nightfall on them but Yelena finally drew attention to the passing time.
“You are always so busy. You should treat yourself to more relaxation,” said Brock.
Yelena smiled. “You really are still a dreamer, aren't you?”
“Who wouldn't be with surroundings like this?” He would have liked to have added, “and the special person with me,” but his senses told him to go gently and not rush the maiden.
The afternoon had been a wonderful success as far as Brock was concerned and on his return home his mother again raised questioning eyes, to which he responded with a wide grin. His father was more direct and asked him if his smug look might be the result of a pleasant day with a special young lady. Brock answered with the same big grin and continued to his room until dinner time, to ponder the implications of the day.