#earthrunes

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Zara finds herself writing, no just copying, but creating. Perhaps it's the fact Earl gave his true name to her and she and he will Oath because she WANTS to! Perhaps it's just love soaring! Could be a satyress playing a soft romantic classical violin with a touch of the gift of pan... but she may not think of that

Her next novel is blooming under her very finger tips

Zara writes longhand to draft - moving to laptop later.

Having cemented characters in her first novel, now she introduces new ones! Who is this flame haired intruder who casts such a spell on the Vicar? Can she be trusted?

The American heiress, and her greying but vivacious Greek tutor...

And our heroine, seeking to uncover her mystery in order to save her friend perhaps? Or at least, see if he needs saving!

But he also needs true love - and how could she deny him what he deserves?

And so the story flows, the heroine on guard, but then learning it is not one friend she needs to save, but her friend, and a stranger!

Why, she might even feel that rare surge of glamour as creativity is upon her

Scribble scribble. She is contorted in a knot, hastily putting down words as the story comes to her... like a riding a wave!

the wave pitches and rises, but properly handled, that just adds to the energy of it. Some characters surprise her, refusing to go as she had meant for them to do it seems, but compromise with her creation is reached

They do seem to have their own personalities...

That challenge faced, she writes on, that wave at least going in an agreeable direction and more glamour flavors her tongue

It tastes like ink and vanilla. She smiles, basking in the warm glow. Oh, a vile enemy... grasping, wanting to steal Caroline's inheritance...

Oh every wart on the true villain will be revealed by the end of the tale, but the unmasking shall not be a clumsy thing, no no

Nearby, Earl came in, but holds perfectly still. This is odd. Does she know he's here? if so, she's counting on him not to make nose. If not, best not to throw her off. But a silly smile crosses his features as he thinks of how she has often watched him paint. And now, he watches her, admiring how raptly her pen flies, like a conductor's baton

Zara may or may not know he's there... she is quite focused.

And so he watches quietly, that fond look in his eyes aglow

Even as Caroline finds herself seemingly caught in quite the predictament

Scribble!

Treachery, who is this strange girl who seems to work for the villain, and yet fears him as well?

Oh, the shy seamstress - more in need of rescue, for all she is compelled to pay heed...

Oh, how appropriate that the tangled weave involves her then.

Time has little meaning - but eventually, her hand cramps. Perhaps it is time for tea.

And she finds it is already being made. Her paramour is preparing it just as he was taught

"Oh, Love!"

"I remember when I got you these cups" He says fondly "I hope you don't mind- you were in the zone. I didn't want to intrude but I enjoyed watching"

"Well, watching is love."

"Yes." He nods "Though I would be offended if others snooped on you thus. I'd get jealous" A wink and he offers her the cup now that the tea is ready

Zara takes the cup, and a giddy little smile bursts forth as she recalls her newest secret.

A smile back

She is pink, and fluttery, and utterly enraptured by Her Love. Oh, there, she can see it... she had known him, but now, the syllables ring, shining a light... she has known him before.. in three lifetimes, she knows now.

They may get caught up in gazing into each other. Names shared. Eyes locked.

But she could fall into those eyes, and drown happily.

"I love you" He says out of the blue. Needs to be said. Perhaps every day for the rest of his life

"And I, thee. Thou art the most thou."

"As long as I am thine"

"Thou art. And I, thine." Happy sigh.

they clink tea cups "Can I read what you've written so far? Or is that alarming ?"

"Oh.. oh, no. Not yet."

"oh?" Curious tilt of his head as if trying to look past playfully

"Nay! Tis still unborn. You may read it when I type it."

"Awwww" Almost boyish "But what if I really want to look?"

"Mmm, thou must revel in longing and anticipation."

"And I? I shall smile at thy torment and suffering. I am a cruel mistress."

"Then revel I shall" He sighs almost lustily, "Even as you crack your inky tendrils"

"For all you must wait, you shall be amongst the first..."

"I cannot promise first. Bronte can be very pushy."

"Ah, well, dragons are greedy things when it comes to treasures" An understanding nod