Merlin, she was beautiful.
Theoren returned her smile with a wide grin of his own, pleased that she seemed happy to see him. “Smells great. Can I help you with anything?” he offered, latching the door behind him. There was something very comforting and almost familiar about the atmosphere – the warm, sweet scent filling the air, the music playing quietly in the background, Aline working in the kitchen. It was very pleasant. As she invited him to make himself at home, Theoren stepped over to the table, setting down the unopened bottle of Firewhiskey he’d brought with him beside the other beverages she had set out. It wasn’t much; a small gesture of his appreciation for her. What he had really wanted was to give her flowers – somehow he thought she would have enjoyed them more, but feared she’d think wrongly of him in some way. It wasn’t exactly the sort of gift he’d bring to McLaggen, for example, and that was enough to deter him.
They’d known each other since their first year of school, and Aline remained one of Theoren’s dearest friends. He was happy they’d reconnected. They had lost touch in the years since graduation, but after running into her at the hospital several weeks ago, they had started to meet up regularly for lunch or coffee. Everything seemed to fall back into place so easily. Conversation was as effortless as it had ever been, and he found himself remembering just how much he enjoyed her company.
A couple of years ago, maybe, he would have tried convincing her how right he was for her. In that sense, perhaps he’d grown up a bit. He respected her. He wanted to be considerate of her feelings, rather than forcing onto her the glaring truth of his own. He genuinely valued her friendship. But it was more than that. There had always been something about Aline – he held her in his highest esteem. She was one of the few people that could make him question himself, his decisions, his intentions. He cared very much what she thought of him. He wanted her good opinion, her trust, her confidence.
Not long after that first meeting, Theoren had asked her to come with him to the Fundraiser Ball – not completely seriously, lest she refuse him and injure his pride – and she managed to surprise him by saying yes. Theoren had really enjoyed spending the evening with her, dancing with her, letting the champagne take the blame when the boundaries of their friendship were blurred ever so slightly. Although, in the end, the night had been somewhat soured by the sight of their younger siblings together at the ball. Theoren wasn’t sure he liked Lorin with Seth. Then again, he wasn’t sure he liked her with anybody.
After a moment, Aline returned from the kitchen, plate of cupcakes in hand. “You made these?” Theoren asked, impressed. Possibly more impressed just because it was her. He took one before sitting cross-legged on the floor near the table. The match would be starting soon. It was Puddlemere versus the Harpies – both of their favorite teams pitted against one another. Although he would have been happy to root for the Harpies any other day, Puddlemere was his team. His father’s team. He would loyally defend them until the very end, no matter the outcome. “I’m sure she does,” he responded with a nod. “Doesn’t mean she’s going to.”
Theoren gave her a challenging smirk, taking a bite of the cupcake as an announcer’s voice spoke from the Wireless, declaring that the match would start momentarily. “This is delicious,” he said of the cupcake. “Tell me, is there anything you
can’t do?” He grinned at her playfully before placing the rest of the cupcake in his mouth. The announcers had started discussing the lineups of the two teams, and one was placing the odds heavily in favor of Puddlemere, while another scolded him for underestimating the determination of the Harpy Captain. Theoren listened with interest, pouring himself a cup of coffee. It was going to be one hell of a match, either way.
Meeting her eyes, Theoren was intrigued by her mischievous smile, and raised an eyebrow at her. “Well,” he began, grinning slyly as he reached for a second cupcake. “That depends.” He leaned in, resting his elbow on the table, and lowered his voice slightly when he spoke again. “How far are you willing to go to defend your beloved Harpies? Keep in mind that you’ve chosen the losing side, so I’d think twice before setting the stakes too high, if I were you.”