Calurin's house

[Calurin]

Nestled in between two larger houses, stands a smallish house. The outsides are well-kept, clean and freshly painted. It has two stories, topped by a pointed roof. From here, there's not much clues as to the inhabitants, though they are known to the neighbours. It's the house of Calurin Alanionos, who's employed at the Academy of the Twin Path, and his wife, Brenwith. She's rarely seen outside these days, however.

[Calurin]

He hums to himself as he opens the door and enters the house. He's hanging his cloak up and swiping down some creases in his shirt as the door to the lounge opens and an Elven woman walks into the hallway, her black hair hanging in two braids over her shoulders. She smiles lovingly at Calurin.

'Hello dear. How was school?'

[Calurin]

Brenwith stands in front of the window, looking out over her garden. Behind her, Calurin turns over in his sleep. She sighs, watching the flowers bloom down on the ground, not turning to watch him. It was good to see him again, to be able to hold him. For the first time, it doesn't quite feel right. He'd been distant. She shivers in the coolness of the bedroom. She loves him, after all those years, after what they've been through, she loves him still. And he her. Or so she believed. Had to believe. In the face of the rumours steadily growing over the years, uterred by her neighbours. Many had children going to the Academy. She never listened, they couldn't be true. She loved him, and he loved her. She stands and stares out over her garden, the only thing she leaves the house for now. She loves him, but there's a small worm of doubt lurking underneath it. She shakes her head, and gets back into bed, touching her husband's back. He snorts, still sleeping. He's here, and the rumours aren't true, can't be true. She falls asleep.

[Calurin]

Standing in front of the window drinking his tea he watches Brenwith putter around in the garden. Her garden, he wants nothing to do with it. Earth and plants, eww. Dirt and smudges more like. He doesn't see the appeal it has for her, though he suspects it has something to do with their not having children.
He sighs and walks away, entering the kitchen, which is as spotlessly clean as the rest of the house. He puts his cup in the sink, forgetting it as he turns his back on it and goes into the living-room. He's getting bored with Mia, but she doesn't seem to get the hint. More drastic measures might be in order.
Thinking, he takes a book from the large bookcase standing against the far wall and leaves through it, reading snippets of old Elven love-stories, the pages slightly yellowing. Brenwith bought it for him, when they'd started seeing each other. So long ago now. They'd been so in love. What had happened to them? He stares at the page, not seeing the words any more, lost in the past.