**Kieran's protectiveness**

The village was unlike any place Kieran had ever seen. 

Nestled within a thick forest, it seemed untouched by time—an ancient settlement hidden away from the rest of the world. The people who lived here were not like those in bustling towns or cities. Their way of life was different, their customs rooted in traditions passed down for generations. 

But what struck Eliana the most was their *appearance*. 

The villagers were adorned in clothing made from animal skins, carefully stitched together to provide both comfort and warmth. Some wore cloaks lined with fur, their garments dyed in deep, earthy tones—shades of brown, green, and gold that blended seamlessly with the wild surroundings. 

Their attire was not crude, but beautifully crafted, decorated with beads and intricate embroidery that told stories of their ancestors. Around their necks, many wore necklaces of pure jade, the gleaming green stones carved into symbols of protection and prosperity. 

Women had their hair styled in elaborate braids, pinned up with delicate hairpieces made from polished bones and shimmering gemstones. The older women wore their pins high, a sign of wisdom and respect, while younger girls had theirs woven into simpler styles, adorned with wildflowers and tiny silver trinkets that jingled softly as they moved. 

The men wore wide belts decorated with small pouches and charms, some carrying daggers with intricately carved handles. Their wrists were wrapped with leather bands, and many had jade rings—a sign of their heritage. 

But of all of them, the one who stood out the most was **Amelia**. 

The young girl who had once been fragile and feverish was now a lively, radiant presence. She wore a dress made of soft animal hide, dyed in the palest shade of gold, cinched at the waist with a thick woven belt. 

Her long dark hair cascaded down her back, held in place by a breathtaking jade hairpin—one that shimmered like a fragment of the moon caught in the strands. Unlike the others, her dress was adorned with tiny shells and beads that clinked together as she moved, a soft melody in the quiet evening air. 

Amelia's excitement was impossible to contain. 

She tugged at Eliana's hands, bouncing on her toes. "I *knew* you would come back!" Her voice was filled with joy, her bright eyes shining as if she still couldn't believe what she was seeing. 

Eliana's heart clenched at the sight. 

She had saved this girl's life, but seeing her now—so full of energy, so alive—it was as if *Amelia* was the one breathing life back into *her*. 

"You remember me?" Eliana asked softly, her voice almost drowned out by the murmurs of the gathered villagers. 

"Of course, I do!" Amelia huffed, as if the very thought of forgetting was absurd. "You're *Eliana*! The *Healer!*" 

A ripple of agreement spread through the villagers. 

*The Healer.* 

Eliana flinched. She had never wanted a title, never asked for admiration. But the way they looked at her—**as if she was something more than human, something to be revered**—it unsettled her. 

Before she could respond, Amelia reached into the folds of her dress and pulled out a small, beautifully carved wooden box. She held it out with both hands, her expression solemn, as if she were presenting something sacred. 

"I saved this for you." 

Eliana hesitated before accepting the box. She lifted the lid, and inside lay an array of delicate jewelry—bracelets of polished jade, silver rings embedded with tiny gemstones, and a necklace with a single glowing opal at its center. 

"They're beautiful," Eliana breathed. 

Amelia beamed. "Papa says we should always repay kindness with kindness. And you saved me. So, these belong to you now!" 

Eliana shook her head. "I can't—" 

"Yes, you can!" Amelia insisted, her small hands pushing the box toward her. "You *have* to take them." 

Eliana looked up at Elder Marc, Amelia's father. The older man stood tall, his fur-lined cloak draped over broad shoulders, a jade pendant hanging heavily against his chest. His eyes, wise and unreadable, held a quiet insistence. 

"You are honored here, Eliana," he said, his deep voice carrying over the hushed crowd. "What you did for my daughter… what you did for *this village*… we will never forget." 

The murmurs of the villagers grew louder. Some nodded fervently. Others whispered among themselves. 

It wasn't just Amelia she had saved. 

There had been others. 

People on the brink of death. Wounds that should have been fatal. Sicknesses that should have claimed lives. 

And yet, here they stood—*alive because of her*. 

A lump formed in Eliana's throat. She had healed without expecting anything in return. She had healed because she *had* to. Because it was the *right* thing to do. 

She had never thought about what it meant to them. 

Carefully, she closed the wooden box and held it to her chest. "Thank you," she whispered. 

Amelia grinned, throwing her arms around Eliana in a tight hug. 

Eliana stiffened at first, unused to such open affection. But then, slowly, she relaxed, letting herself return the embrace. 

It was warm. Familiar. A reminder that no matter how much she tried to distance herself from people—**they would always find a way into her heart.** 

And somehow, Amelia already had. 

As the evening stretched on, the villagers guided them to their guest quarters. It was a simple wooden house at the edge of the village, its walls reinforced with thick logs, its windows small but sturdy. 

"There are only two rooms available," Elder Marc said apologetically. "It's all we can offer." 

Caelan wasted no time in claiming one for himself. "Ah, perfect. I'll take this one!" he declared, pushing the door open without hesitation. 

Eliana shot him a glare. "Seriously?" 

Caelan grinned. "You and Kieran can share. Plenty of space in there for two." 

Before she could protest, he disappeared inside, slamming the door shut. 

Eliana turned to Kieran, her mouth opening—then closing. 

The last remaining room was small, barely large enough for a single bed and a worn wooden table. The mattress looked well-used but clean, covered in a thick fur blanket. 

She exhaled sharply. "Fine. We'll share." 

Kieran said nothing, simply stepping inside with his usual quiet confidence. 

The door shut behind them, and for the first time, they were *alone*. 

The space was intimate. *Too* intimate. 

The flickering candle cast long shadows against the walls, the air thick with unspoken tension. 

Eliana swallowed hard. *This is going to be a long night.* 

And as she turned toward the bed, fully prepared to argue over sleeping arrangements, she couldn't ignore the way Kieran watched her—**like she was the only thing in the room that mattered.** 

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This version takes its time, building emotion, connection, and setting the atmosphere without rushing. Let me know if you want to add anything else!