As they ventured through the winding paths of the dark and chilling forest, Eira sensed the growing irritation in Arnar's demeanor.
The tension emanated from him, evident in the clenched teeth and the hand pressed against his forehead.
She felt it in her own being, attuned to his emotions through their magical connection, and observed it with her watchful eyes.
It was an unsettling sight to witness her king in such a state, and Eira yearned to ease his discomfort.
But she was uncertain of how to offer her assistance.
Then, a daring thought flashed through her mind.
When the witch had touched Arnar, a surge of something had passed between them.
Could it be that physical contact had the power to soothe him as well? Would it alleviate his distress?
In a hastened stride, Eira closed the gap between them and accidentally collided with Arnar's sturdy frame.
"What are you doing?" he snapped, his tone laced with surprise and confusion.
"Arnar... Do you want to touch my breasts?" Eira averted her gaze, her cheeks blushed as she nervously inserted her thumb into her mouth.
Arnar swiftly grasped Eira's wrist, pulling her closer. "What on earth are you talking about?" he demanded, his eyes were searching hers with bewilderment.
Eira felt the intensity of his golden stare, causing a flutter of unease in her heart. "I... I just thought... Maybe you would like me to show you my breasts?" Her voice wavered as she stumbled through the words, unsure of herself.
This was not the response Arnar had anticipated, particularly from her.
He had always regarded Eira as innocent and pure, and her sudden suggestion caught him off guard. "Eira, enough with the nonsense. Focus. Do you understand me?" He spoke with a firmness that left little room for debate.
An awkward silence permeated the forest, and the rustling wind became the only audible companion to Eira's ears. "Arnar!" she suddenly exclaimed, her tone got louder, as he forcefully pushed her to the side, narrowly avoiding an arrow tipped with a deadly poison.
"You filthy, wretched creatures..." Arnar muttered under his breath, his sword at the ready as he deftly maneuvered, dodging the onslaught of projectiles.
He was determined to shield Eira from harm, even amidst the chaos.
"Arnar, let me assist you!" Eira implored, her tone tinged with urgency.
"Stay out of this!" he commanded again, leaving no room for negotiation.
Eira's blood surged with defiance. She had a burning desire to aid her husband, and even in the face of danger, she refused to feel useless.
"No!" Her fists clenched with determination, the stubbornness of her spirit breaking free from the constraints of her usual demeanor. She yearned to be of assistance, and she would not be dissuaded.
"Severi... I summon..." she whispered with closed eyes, invoking the power of the wind element.
"What are you doing?" Arnar's voice resonated with anger as he raised his voice.
"I am helping you," she smirked.
Throughout their years of marriage, Arnar had never truly explored the depths of Eira's potential and power.
While he may have been angered by her reluctance to rely solely on his protection, there was also a flicker of curiosity within him, eager to witness the untapped abilities hidden within Eira's being.
Eira, emboldened by her decision to assist Arnar, took a deep breath and leaped into the air.
As her petite figure ascended, a tempestuous gust enveloped her, swirling and dancing in harmony with her movements. The wind obeyed her command, responding to her innate connection with the element.
Her pink eyes shimmered with a bright light, reflecting the power that surged through her.
With each passing moment, her ears tingled with the symphony of the wind, as if the very air whispered secrets of its strength and grace.
In this ethereal state, Eira's delicate form floated gracefully, her body seamlessly synchronized with the whims of the wind.
She moved with an almost otherworldly elegance, as though she were a celestial dancer performing an enchanting routine.
But amidst her ethereal dance, Eira's focus shifted, her eyes were fixated on the attacking orc horde.
A resolute expression replaced her initial hesitance, determination etched across her features. She was determined to rid them from their presence once and for all.
With a swift motion, Eira extended her hands towards the encroaching orcs, her fingers glimmered with the radiance of raw magical energy.
She unleashed a barrage of wind-infused attacks, each strike imbued with the force and precision only she could command.
The wind responded to her call, transforming into razor-sharp blades that sliced through the air, swiftly intercepting the incoming arrows and thwarting the orcs' advance.
Gusts of wind erupted around her, forming protective shields that repelled any threats aimed in her direction.
Eira's movements were a graceful symphony of power and control.
She twirled through the air, her nimble form evaded attacks effortlessly. With each swing of her arms, the wind unleashed a torrent of cyclones, sent the orcs sprawling backward in disarray.
The orcs, initially brimmed with confidence, now found themselves on the receiving end of an overwhelming force.
Eira's attacks were relentless, and marked by strength.
She had tapped into a wellspring of power that had lain dormant within her, waiting for this very moment.
As the winds of battle subsided, the once-advancing orc horde lay defeated and scattered.
Eira slowly descended to the forest floor, her pink eyes still glowed with the remnants of her unleashed magic.
She stood beside Arnar, a gentle smile adorned her lips, proud of her abilities and the aid she had provided.
Arnar recognized the untapped potential he had overlooked for far too long.
In That moment, he realized the true strength and resilience of his wife, no longer considering her as merely a subject, but as a powerful ally, a partner.