Just a bit of fanficness I came up with a while ago. Constructive comments are always nice! 
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Elvawen sighed as she sat back against her chair, swirling her drink about. She was glad Imoen wasn’t about or she would try and ‘cheer her up’ so to speak and she was glad the bar was nearly empty but it was nearly three hours past midnight; the place was also in the middle of nowhere and it was late into the winter. She looked out the window into the snow storm they had come out of. It wasn’t that she was unhappy but she wasn’t happy either; she didn’t really feel anything, not anymore. She knew it was a problem and had tried to fix it but regardless of how hard she tried it just didn’t work. Most of her other companions had given up on her, even Jahiera had left. The only one remaining was Imoen, her sister and best friend. She sighed Kivan wouldn’t have given up on her but he was gone as well, gone to Arvanaith to be with Deheriana. She was glad he had gone, he deserved to be happy but she missed him desperately; he had always been able to if not cheer her up help her find peace with whatever was bothering her. She almost missed him as much as… no she would not even think his name, she would not fall back even further down than she already was. She ran a hand over her face and slumped down further into her chair; she stared into the fire for what seemed an eternity but couldn’t have possibly been more than a few seconds. She stood up and setting her drink down she made her way upstairs to take a bath.
Nearby one of the only three other customers not including Imoen watched as Elvawen went up the stairs from beneath the cowl of his cloak. He had been watching her for a while but the normally perceptive elf was lost in her own little world and had not noticed. The man made a move to follow her but stopped and leant back against the wall he had been leaning against, sighing. He had been looking for her for over a year. After the happenings with Melissan she had more or less dropped off the map but he had found her trail a couple months ago and followed her here. Followed her all this way to this gods’ forsaken snowdrift of a country in this ramshackle inn and now that she was so close he couldn’t work up the nerve to approach her. His head thunked back against the wall as he looked up at the ceiling. He then took a deep breath and quickly made his way towards the stairs before he could have time to second guess himself. He was stopped however by Imoen. She stepped in front of him and before he knew what was happening she yanked his hood down.
“Darian.” She said simply.
The avariel averted his eyes and murmured “Imoen.”
Imoen looked at him suspiciously, he was acting odd. He didn’t seem to have the all-out decisiveness he used to. She was actually glad of this; maybe he had wised up and realized everything wasn’t as black and white as he thought.
He looked up to her. “Let me pass. I need to see her.”
Imoen pulled her key to their joint room out of her pocket and held it in front of him. He reached for it and she snatched it away. Her eyes narrowed dangerously.
“If you hurt her again I’ll show you that despite the absence of the taint that I’m still my father’s daughter.”
Darian’s already pale face went paler and Imoen smiled dropping the key into his hand.
“Room four.”
She then went back to the bar and the two men who trying to win her affection.
Darian just stood there for a moment and then quickly turned and all but ran up the stairs. Imoen smirked at this then flipped her hair and laughed girlishly at one of the men’s’ joke.
Darian stopped at door number four put the key in twisted it and made to open the door. It was here he stopped again. He gulped.
“What if she hadn’t forgiven him? Sure she had told him to go if he needed time to think but he had seen the look of sorrow, of betrayal in her eyes when she said it. What if she was angry with him? If she refused to take him back? Threw him out and told him to never come back?”
All these things raced through his mind as he stood there. He looked about for a moment and almost involuntarily flexed his muscles. His wings closed in closer to his body as they did when he was nervous. Then as they always did when he was unable to control his emotions they flared outward in a great arc, knocking everything in the vicinity over whether it was the wind that had been created or his actual wings themselves. He then took a deep breath and pushed the door open. She may reject him and it would hurt but not trying and having to live without her would hurt all the more. He had come to realize that quite clearly over the last three years.
As it so happened Elvawen had just gotten out of the bath, she stood there dripping wet clothed in not but a towel as she tried to comb out her hair. Her eyes drifted lazy towards the door expecting her sister. She dropped the comb as their eyes locked.
“D-Darian?”
All doubt and nervousness gone he crossed the room and took her into his arms and kissed her soundly, pouring all of his longing and joy into that kiss while at the same time trying to express how much he had missed her. More than anything however he begged her forgiveness with that kiss. Her towel fell to the floor and he pushed up against the wall, the roughness of the wood rubbing against her bare, wet skin. He then pulled away, his blue eyes shining and said
“I missed you.”
She stood there mouth open, unsure of what to say or do. Unable to think of anything else she said in a faint disconnected sort of voice
“I guess this means you’re done with your ruminations.”
He smiled widely and leaning his head against hers replied
“Yes, yes I am.”
He twined his fingers with her own and kissed them lightly. With his other hand he tucked a strand of still wet hair behind one of her pointed ears and said in a soft, loving voice.
“I’ve come to the conclusion that I want to stay with you Elva, my radiant swan, for the rest of my days.”
She smiled and leant forward and kissed him lightly.
“Good.” Was all she said.
She then pulled him to her bed where they laid and merely held each other for the first time in over three years.
