Mistic Circle ~ Story

Femmy:
Seeing Raven struggling to keep herself not snapping back at her challenge, Agalein hid a smile. Raven's quick temper might be of use later.

Agalein stood back as the others spoke. She saw how Sand snuggled into Xenon's arms. It seemed he had found a lover to keep him occupied for the time being. She grinned. Amazing how he could always find one, even in a situation like this, when his relationship with Savar put him into an unfriendly position.

Then he started another 'speech'. First he offered to teach some magic skill to the princess. (Not enough that you have the little bard for you companion, hmm?) It'd be interesting to see him juggle his two companions while still on the road to the Citadel. Two... or more, if he decided to draw more of the females of this group to his side. Then he offered again his help to deal with Savar.

"Third, dear, dear, dear, Aggy," Xenon continued. "As all can see my dear friend Aggy is beautiful and courteous. Her voice sings, but one might have a care with accepting drinks from her. I've known folk to become quite … ill … from doing so."

(Well, thank you for disclosing _that_ to everybody,) she thought sarcastically.

"Oh, and please dear Aggy, if you should feel the desire at any time to bare your soft white back to us and let us try to share your pain and perhaps give you what comfort we can. I, for one encourage you to do so."

Agalein shook her head at that, amused. She can always count on Xenon to make her smile. Suddenly she felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She realized now that she didn't need to pretend anymore to lure these people to the Citadel. Those who didn't trust her wasn't likely to change their mind. Those who was neutral and wanted to see for sure what was at the Citadel would probably make the decision about Savar when they reached it.

"I will be travelling with you, if you don't mind," she addressed the whole room. She had to go back to the Citadel. No sense going there alone. She couldn't resist adding, "I'm quite a good cook, actually. I can turn any hunted meat into a delicious meal.... And don't worry, I won't put any of my 'special ingredients' into your food or drinks." She bit back a smile, seeing the heightened distrust in their eyes. Trying to win their trust would probably be in vain, anyway. She was not as flamboyant as Xenon. Might as well have some fun.

She walked toward the door, but paused near Sand.

"Enjoy him while you can, my bardic friend," she said in a low voice to her. "Watch out for your royal competition, though."

"Shall we go then?" Agalein said, opening the door. "Be careful, don't let me get too far ahead of you. I might just warn my people to set some traps when you're not looking," she said, catching Etain's eyes. She bit back another smile when she saw the alarm on some of their faces, then walked out of the Twilight Room.

Angie:
Ynys turned at the sheep's question.

:I have given you my name and that of my bondmate, will you now favour me with yours? And you also, friend unicorn? – I can Sense that you are linked in mind with someone within the Inn, but not whom.:

:Dear Sable, who finally deigns to notice me,: she 'Grinned to everyone since it was unlikely for her in this form to grin, :I am Ynys, Bearer of Selected Knowledge. I am Linked to Shadowblade, that elven-mage who... just tried to sever someone's hand?: She trotted over to the window to get a closer look. Sure enough, she saw that Xenon person snuggle closer to the bard as the elf flicked out one of her many knives and gave a half-hearted swipe at his wrist.

Turning back to the black war sheep, she 'Said, :She's not usually like that. 'Blade's not my bondmate. She is just a friend whom I have decided to aid.:

Tossing her head to nod at a dark corner of the stables, she 'Spoke to a cowering creature. :And you, little one, what of you?:

-*-

'Blade glared under hooded eyes at Xenon. (How dare he? That little....) Then her common sense began to reassert itself. (No. If I do anything... permanent, the group'll suffer. Wait, I shall. But _that_ one spells Bad News.) Taking in the way he and the Bard cosied up together in the same chair, she 'Spoke to Raven, Solarin, Muranog, Etain, Rainbow and Dee.

:Look. I don't know about what you feel. But to my senses, that Xenon is _not_ good news, and the Bard had better watch her steps. Should anyone do anything?:

Aloud, she answered Raven as the other elf nodded. "We'll have you, all right - if you had chosen not to come along, I might have tried to change your mind. You needn't sell your skills to me; I know and trust them."

"Thank you for your belief in me, Raven. Though ‘selling’ was not what I intended it to sound like.…" She turned to the elven-warrior and returned her knife to its secret place on her body.

Etain's mindvoice broke her out of her reverie. :We need to get out of here _now_! I, who have limited mage sense can see this place lit up in white-bright light! I can only imagine what you see... I think we'll be safer in the woods, at least... I've heard its not called the Black Woods for nothing! We can figure out this strange man and the Dragon when we're safer... I suggest we go now, or there may not be a later!:

In the same manner, and to the same persons, 'Blade replied to Etain. :Yes, my fairie friend. I too have Sensed the Power that we are pooling. Yet on the road, there is always the possibility of an ‘accident’ occurring at the least opportune time. Erelan, the dragon, is for the good. But Xenon, I do not trust. Neither does Ynys for that matter.:

Sorchafyr:
Sand snuggled into Xenon as he slid himself into her chair, thus claiming a place at the table. (Oh, he is clever as well as dangerous,) she thought, and lost the thread of conversation for a moment as she aligned herself with the role she had chosen.

(The problem,) she reflected, (is who to be.) She knew how to act around mercenaries and fighters, and she knew how to behave around royalty and other assorted "gentles". Never had she encountered fairies, but she was getting a handle on who to be with the magic users. What had her utterly trapped was how to act when they all looked at her at once. You couldn't be a chameleon when there was more than one background to pattern yourself after. Suddenly Xenon’s conspiratorial smile reminded her of where she was.

He quietly spoke, his voice a quiet husky purr. "It seems I must speak again to these honest folk if I am to be allowed to be of service to them. I hope we can get to know each other.... much... better soon. Still duty calls, and I must try to save them pain if I can. Little they know of the Citadel or the true ways into it though they believe they do."

As he looked at her, Sand's eyes widened. His gaze burned past all her masks and warmed her soul with desire. He could hear her song should he listen.

(NO!) she screamed mentally, as a fear as deep and primal as humanity rushed through her. He bent forward and brushed her lips, as if to seal the contact. Thoughts of (danger, warning, help) jumbled incoherently in her head. She took a mental deep breath, as she did before a performance, and centered herself in time to hear the end of Raven's speech. Xenon pounced on her opening, with masterful timing, and perfect pitch. As she listened to him speak of the Princess, she was lost in nothing more than professional admiration. She couldn't have done better if it was scripted for her, and his delivery was nothing short of sincere. He was playing this scene to this audience with the sensitivity toward manipulating emotion that she had only seen in herself and a few others. And she could never do that to "people", only a crowd.

Then he began speaking of the tall, beautiful lady as "dear Aggy". Laced through his voice was the poison he all but accused her of being master of. The intensity of it surprised Sand. (The only thing that can cause hatred that deep is love,) she mused. (I believe I will steer well clear of this. If I can.)

Sand knew she had nothing to add to the conversation. It was not up to her who stayed or went, and having said her piece about traveling with them, she was content to let them sort it out. She again sensed the eagerness to be dismissed as a rogue. Now she had gone beyond curiosity, she was honestly intrigued.

(Am I the only one who senses this?) she wondered. Then she looked around the table. As she was taking stock, Agalein passed her.

"Enjoy him while you can, my bardic friend," she said in a low voice to her. "Watch out for your royal competition, though."

Sand took a moment to translate this. Direct threat, no staying out of the way of this love/hate bond. Besides, she rather liked the way his hands felt playing in her hair. And he radiated the most delicious feelings to her. As for the Princess, she wasn't worried. Jealousy was not her style; she never really got involved beyond pure pleasure. Then she remembered the soul touching look he had given her, and her face grew warm. Suddenly she needed to escape, recenter herself. She stood up as Agalein left the room.

"And I have a final performance to give, and a contract to renegotiate," she said, deliberately putting distance between herself and Xenon. She gave him a warm smile, which faded as she looked at the rest of the group. "Feel free to miss the performance," she said in a suddenly small voice. She would have liked to sweep out of the room, but some performances were beyond her ability, and this was one of them. Instead, she turned and quietly exited.

Typo:
Erelan's hissing quieted and she blinked at the form in the shadows, lowering her head until it nearly rested on her forepaws as she peered over the edge of the roof. Her wings, curved into sharp sickle-shapes above her body, ceased their loud and edgy rustling somewhat as she stared at the creature she had pinned against the wall.

(What is this? Am I wrong again, to see and Sense what is not there and believe evil of an innocent? Bright Mothers, preserve me... can the evil one have branded my heart so completely...?) Just the thought made her queasy, and it didn't help that all her senses besides the ones she had to trust still pricked and jabbed that something _wrong_ was nearby - in the forest, in the shadow...

(In my mind?)

She swallowed and raised herself from the crouch, winging down with a care not to send any more mud in the direction of the unicorn and war sheep. They must think her quite mad... and honestly, that might not have been a bad judgement. Erelan imagined that a nervous, edgy dragon, apt to fly into a fearful rage at no real threat was no one's idea of a companion. Still, foolish and anxious as she felt, she had to be sure. At a cautious, slinking walk reminiscent of a cat's hunting stalk, she advanced on the (man?), until she stood nearly talon-to-toe with him, and lowered her head so that she could look him squarely in the face. Her eyes, still amber-glowing and reflective, cast the traveler's own image back at him as she sized up this small one she had taken for an enemy. There was nothing about him remotely threatening, from wide green eyes to elfin hair, to the fact that she towered over him by several feet when seated, and there was much that spoke of earnest fright... He seemed to her to be one who would take offense at the whole situation - if not so glad to escape with hide intact.

She whuffed him once, careful and confused, but certain this boy (man? Elf?) was no more than he appeared. She turned her attention to the dagger he had thrown away. That reeked of demon-magic and killing. She turned her head aside in disgust, and would have spat out the sudden taste of pocked-metal, death, and rot if her mouth had not been so dry.

She walked back to the golden-haired form and lowered her head and eye-ridges in a solemn bow... not a terribly impressive gesture of trust, since she could have snapped him in half with a flick of her head, but a sincere show of apology.

:Forgive me - it is I who have offended, and I shall right the damages,: she said with gentle humility, spreading her wings out and down in her race's expression of respect. :I mean no harm to the harmless, ever - demon-weapons and demon-magics trouble me since....: the mindspoken words were clipped as she thought better of telling her darkest memories, :...since they are so often used for evil,: she amended, the break hardly noticeable. :Walk unhindered in my sight, small one. My teeth are not bared against thee.:

The sad-eyed dragon turned from him and looked into the lightning-washed night with fear and a growing premonition of darkness to come. She spoke half to herself, half to those gathered in the rainy dooryard.

:What can be true? My eyes and senses disagree, and there is more here to be feared than one old dagger.: She looked back at the unicorn and war sheep, feeling her ear-membranes flush a deeper blue with shame. :And I must be a child - a foolish child at that - jumping at shadows and half-born fears. War-sheep and Troll-friend... there is little I would like better than to join your friends, but I fear if I am to enter, I must squeeze through the door. I have little mage-power of my own, but by my nature, I am warded against the magic of others. Only an Adept could affect me, I think,: at this she paused - that was not the whole truth, but it was close enough for her comfort. She winced. :If you have such skill, please do not use it. In my experience, the results have been... unpleasant.:

She drew herself up and reached to the pack-straps across her breast, pulling two gold coins from the pocketed inner lining and holding out the unmarked disks of metal to Zeke.

:I am sorry for my outburst. These will find you washing water and dry clothes within the tavern, I am sure,: she mindsent, hoping he didn't have too fierce a headache from her first angry sending.

She shook her head slowly. :I will take to the stable to dry off and rest. I think I have caused enough fear and confusion for one night.: She appraised the two creatures out in the rain - they seemed to have been spared most of the mud, though by now everyone out there was starting to look sodden. Picking up her feet from the mud with a loud sssshlop, she slunk off toward the enormous stable, wishing the pricking behind her ears and down her spine screaming at her to 'ware danger close by, would go away.

(I am a fool,) she thought quietly. (These are memories and shadows that I fear, not real dangers lurking out of sight. Fifteen years should have cured me of seeing _him_ in every shadow and tree. I am not the helpless child I was then - no one will ever have the opportunity to bind me again.)

Rainbow:
Rainbow and Dee had been sitting in a corner quietly. One thing she had learned in Court was that you could pick up an awful lot by listening, even if you _did_ have to mage-enhance your hearing....

:Dee,: Rainbow mind-spoke privately, :That Bard looks interested in, what’s-his-name, Xenon? Do you think she'd get in the way of lessons?:

Dee sighed; in Pegasus community you got an amorous education very early. She should know with three older sibs, and a mind-link to each - always.

:No, I think you'd have to make it very clear that you mean no intrusion though....:

Rainbow stood up, her mind clearly made up, and summoned her mage powers. She'd got SOME training after all, just not anything _useful_. She spoke out loud, using her mage-gift to project her voice.

"Xenon, I accept your offer to teach me, but you must also teach Dee'rina. Shadowblade and Solarin, I am coming with you, and I am _not_ backing down. Xenon, can you please give me a history of your uncle, and I may find that our families are related like many noble families are."

:That should ease Sand's thoughts,: she commented privately to Dee.

"I will talk to Erelan. I have some knowledge of dragons, and I am sure I can speak to her and find out her story. Muranog? Could Sable leave the floor to me?" Dee asked politely, her silver wings gently waving, reminding everyone of the pegasi she really was.

Rainbow smiled at everyone. "So, now that we have decided to go to the Citadel, can we leave?"

Raven Darkblade:
Rainbow stood up, her mind clearly made up. Solarin sighed mentally. :Solaras help us. _Someone_ had better train her - she just magically enhanced her voice and hearing. Messily, I might add, and needlessly. This room is not a Great Hall, all you need is lungs.:

:Hush, shayala,: Raven said, sympathy in her mindvoice.

Raven tried to restrain a derisive snort, and failed. :Related - hah. Just what every Family needs, a baby-killing megalomaniac. Savar's no more noble than I am, he just is damned powerful. Innocent child.:

:Not so much innocent, shayala, as jumping to conclusions. He does come across as nobility - certainly Xenon and Agalein do.:

"I will talk to Erelan, I have some knowledge of Dragons, and I am sure I can speak to her and find out her story. Muranog? Could Sable leave the floor to me?" Dee asked politely, her silver wings gently waving, reminding everyone of the pegasi she really was.

Solarin shrugged slightly, 'Saying to Raven, :I don't see why that's necessary, personally. Ynys and Sable seem to have the situation in hand. Not that it matters if the pegasus wants to talk to her, really.:

:I agree,: Raven responded. :Come on, shayala, we'd better get ready.:

Rainbow smiled at everyone, as the pair stood and sheathed their swords.. "So, now we are decided to go to the Citadel, can we leave?"

"I suggest," Raven said, "that everyone prepare, and we can meet out in front." With that, she and Solarin left.

By mutual silent agreement, they left Mor in the common room to keep an eye on things. Raven went upstairs to their room and Solarin went out to the stables to tack up their horses. The elven ranger was only mildly surprised to meet the dragon - a rather muddy specimen, but impressive nonetheless.

"Greetings, winged one...," Solarin offered.

Andi:
"I suggest," Raven said, "that everyone prepare, and we can meet out in front." With that, she and Solarin left.

Etain also left the room, though she kept her mind focused on the room should anyone need her assistance.

:I don't know if you would like to keep this group watched,: she sent to Shadowblade, :but I will return shortly if you have anything to gather.: She walked out to the stables, warily watching the assorted mystical creatures gathered outside.

Once in the stables she went over to the stall her great Warmare Fae. "Hey darlin' girl," she crooned to the mare. Fae snorted and nuzzled her hand, looking for an apple. Etain pulled one from her pocket and the mare ate it hungrily. She pulled her saddlebags and pack from out of the corner. The mare was a better guard than herself. Checking the bag carefully, she saddled her mare, and readied her gear. She placed two more knives on her person, making the total six – one on each ankle, one at the waist, two at the back, and one actually hanging at her belt. She pulled out her short rapier and set it at her waist, strapped her quiver of fairie arrows to her back, and tied her bow to the saddle.

She checked her bags for food, water, clothing and her secret possessions. Her sleeping mat was rolled compactly into the corner of one of the bags, and her tinderbox and money pouch had not been disturbed. She led her pitch black mare out of the stables, and left her tied outside of the Inn. Anyone thinking to mess with her possessions would find themselves confronted with a fully trained Warmare. She left her mare with the assorted beings having their own conference outside the Inn, and returned to the shielded room.

Darvoso:
Sitting at the bar of the crowded inn, Solfatis watched the new arrivals, one by one. He already knew of Raven and Solarin by reputation, so he avoided them, just blending in with the crowd. When the obviously well bred human lady came in, soon to be followed by her pegasus, he had to hide his awe. She was absolutely gorgeous, and of his age as well. It was a shame she was in such powered company, otherwise he might have introduced himself – ah well. Then the pegasi... what more could you ask for... it would have been so nice to be able to converse with the Winged Lady, and although he abhorred riding animals, for it usually offended them, he could see why a human would like to – such nobility, such beauty.

Listening to the conversation through snips and bits heard through the Inn's talk, he smiled, thinking how nice it would be to be gifted like she most obviously was. An Adept he was sure, although how he could tell these things, he never knew; he only knew that he was invariably right. In fact, much of his life was like that. He had these hunches, these instincts, and never knew why they were. Her sort of gift obviously brought adventure, else why would she be soaking wet, which showed off her magnificent curves, and here, when she was most obviously a royal child. At least that hadn't spoiled her; she didn't seem _too_ haughty.

(My god, listen to me. Mooning about a woman I've not even met, only heard from across a tavern. My, this is how I _know_ I'm a bastard half elf. I can't even control my hormones at an age where I should still be in my mothers home, having her tender my meat for me.) He smiled at that particularly funny thought, and went back to nursing his boredom and his fantasies, eyes alighting on the bard who came in.

(Now there's a good prospect for some music and some tale. Bards are always full of those, and perhaps she could cheer me up as well. I need a bit of that. After losing Wintersky to that last raiding party, I don't know what to do with myself. She was half my heart and the only person whom I loved and returned that love with no regrets, except my Mother and Father, but after I left their abode, I cut off contact with them, and when I came back....) He gulped. (They were dead. A dragon. They had no hope....) He choked back his tears that threatened to flow if he let them. They would serve him no good and probably get him laughed at. No good tearing up about something you can't do anything about... but _oh_, how he wanted to.

He watched the conversation between the Bard and the other young woman, and then his eyes were drawn to the Warrior-Fairie. He would know their kind anywhere, the Fae folk. And to see one such as her kind about... this could mean nothing but adventure. Perhaps the Dark Adept.... He let that thought continue along that vein, his burning desire for revenge destroying his sadness. It cooled quickly however – he could only sustain that feeling for a short amount of time – not only was he not disposed to being angry due to his heritage, but he was tired of it. Sometimes he wondered if he only did it for Wintersky anymore – as a memorial.

(If she hadn't have run straight into that silly trap we both saw coming... If I had warned her about the magical earth beast lying in wait... if if if!... Then I could have shown her the fortress body itself, and we could have gone home to a nice warm bed, to each other.... but _no_... I had to be the brave one... some Runner I am. For all my skills, I can't even keep the ones I love alive.)

He continued to watch as more people arrived, taking some perverse delight in the storm as it gave him an excuse to watch others. He did love other lands, other people. In his travels he had seen the remnants of the troll kind and even other elves, but he stayed away from them for he was afraid. He read and wrote seven different languages, and was fluent in the cultures and histories of each of their peoples. And for a "scout" that was no fair task. "Ranger" seemed to be what he was called most often these days, he shrugged philosophically.

(Perhaps it's the human side in me?) he thought perversely to himself. He had to shave now. Something no elf would ever do. (Woolgathering again. Me, and my so-old age.) He permitted himself a snort, startling the person next to him on the bar who had come to think of his seat mate as more of a statue with flickering eyes.

When the elf came in after the unique feeling of a gate, he figuratively curled up in a ball.

(Please don't notice me!!!) he screamed into his mind... The last elf that had noticed him beat him senseless and then raped him.... Cold sweat broke out over his body, and he blocked the images and memories. (That wasn't my fault,) he told himself sternly. (And it happened a long time ago. Get over it.)

He told himself that a lot, but it never did seem to help. But he still didn't want this powerful elven mage to notice him... bad things might happen. It was one of the reasons he never introduced himself to Solarin; he had no wish for abuse.

When the older woman came in with the winged panther, however, he realized why the Bard had seemed rather confused. With the Pegasus and mage powers around, this winged panther must be quite a shock. He had seen such things... but never so close. He was quite curious but kept his curiosity under check. No wish to become lunch.

(Although I doubt her highness, the cat, would find me acceptable; cats in general are the most _picky_ things.) Watching even closer, he picked up more random bits of conversation from the group, his ears trained shamelessly. (If I only but dared to go over there and introduce myself... but what need do they have of a scout – one who can't even keep his own beloved partner out of harm’s way?) He snorts with self contempt, even his own mindvoice pitying in tone. (Gods, help me.)

When he saw the troll walk in, he knew without a bastion of a doubt that this was a powerful troll. Not only the sword and the power that must lie heavy in him, but the troll lands were embroiled in war… bloody war. Whatever had brought him this far must be _dire_ indeed. (I could be in for some trouble whether I like it or not!)

When the bard started playing however, he became embroiled in the music. It resonated in his soul, and he so much wanted to be able to play with it. But his own meager talents would never compare to this woman's, and he didn't want to intrude; this was obviously her lifeblood. When she too joined the growing group of Fae, Elves, Humans and others, he sighed.

(Must I be cursed?! Everyone worth talking to is getting embroiled in that!)

As the conversation of the group became more hushed, he lost track. Then when he sensed this evil person accost them, he knew that it was time to be ready. Getting ready for anything, for him, took very little time. He checked to make sure his pack was ready by the simple expedient of going upstairs, pulling it out of its niche, paying the Innkeeper the required sum, giving the Innkeeper’s daughter a quick kiss, under the guise of 'services' well rendered....

(So what if I'm a lecher and can't resist good looks. She didn't mind me kissing her, and if her father wasn't so hawk-like, she might have tried more. Ah well, the sadness of my life dictates that I must remain virtuous....) Unbidden, his thoughts ventured to the princess, whose name was... Rain, Rainbow... Rain something, and who was quite attractive.... (I wouldn't mind getting closer to her...)

He pulled his mind away from that little train quickly. By the time he got back downstairs, the table was gone. Frantic, he checked to see where they had gone, only to be assured that they had left for a quieter room... the magically shielded one.

(They'll eventually come out of the room.... I'll just be waiting. If nothing else, perhaps I can use them as a distraction for getting into the Dark Adept’s fortress. But... But...,) his mind quailed, (that's just not nice! Wrong even. I'm not that mean, I'm really not. I need to keep this obsession down. For if I don't, I can and will trample over all that is in my path so that I can personally destroy that _bastard's_ toys.) The rage died out quickly as usual.

That rage quickly kindled, however belatedly, at the arrival of a dragon. He _knew_ that feeling without a doubt. And it set his nerves on fire and his battle nerves even more so. He also knew, without knowing how he knew, that the dragon was lost, bewildered, and not hostile. So he bottled that rage, only muttering, "It's amazing what a storm will drag in." His bar mate nodded absently to the statement as he finished of his flagon of ale. Waiting for _something_, anything to happen, he sat there.

Soon, something did happen. It seemed as if the group inside the room had come to a decision, for they all came walking out. His breath caught for a moment as he saw Rainbow....

He stood up, intending to follow them outside, but as soon as he did so, he realized, (What are you doing you idiot. These people are mage-trained and well powered. You have naught to give them....) The emotions battled in his face and he knew naught what to do, so he turned his attentions back to the young princess, knowing he was considered extremely attractive by human standards, although not necessarily by elven.

(It's amazing, that. My voice and looks gain me prestige amongst humans, but amongst elves they are not that amazing – inferior. But my true talents, hunting and tracking, are those most wanted by the elves and despised by the humans, for they fear what they don't understand. It's not _my_ fault that my natural abilities far outstrip any human in that area!)

He nursed that thought for a moment, before going back to looking at the Princess, his violet eyes alight with longing.... (Maybe if I can get them to notice me....)

Angie:
'Blade watched as Rainbow broadcasted her Potential to any Mage within a five-kilometre radius. Wincing, the elven mage made a vow that if Xenon didn't train Rainbow in Communications, she would.

Seeing Raven and Solarin leave the room, she decided that it was probably time to leave the shelter of the inn. Just as she turned to the door, Etain 'Sent to her, :I don't know if you would like to keep this group watched, but I will return shortly if you have anything to gather.:

:That's good enough. I'll herd this group to the front while you prepare. Come back and I'll go and speak with Ynys about the trip. I don't trust Xenon. If he tries anything with Rainbow, I want to know what. No sense corrupting a Princess.:

She unslung her pack, quiver and bow. Taking them in one hand, she gestured for them to make their way to the main taproom.

:Raven? Solarin?: she 'Called tentatively. Feeling a connection, she continued, :I'll get this group to meet you out front. Is the bard coming along?:

-*-

Ynys bowed her slender neck in greeting to the elven ranger's companion as she passed by. Raven didn't seem to notice, but Ynys didn't really mind. All that meant was that her "you-don't-see-me" trick was getting more skilled.

:Erelan, I believe the group will be embarking on their quest now. Do you intend to join the company?:

The rain was slackening off now. Which just made trapezing in the mud all that more unappealing. Ynys winced at the state of her hooves. (And I argued about the virtues of white. Oh well. I'd better get ready. And 'Blade had better begin packing.)

Dax:
The dragon's hissing quieted and she blinked at the form in the shadows, lowering her head until it nearly rested on her forepaws as she peered over the edge of the roof. Zeke tried to press himself back through the wall.

(I wish I could turn incorporeal! Oh, Daemon Horns, she's going to eat us!)

Her next move reinforced the thought and he began searching for a way out as the dragon approached at a cautious, slinking walk reminiscent of a cat's hunting stalk, until she stood nearly talon-to-toe with him and lowered her head so that she looked him squarely in the face. Her eyes, still amber-glowing and reflective, cast his image back at him.

(Oh, Devils, oh, Devils) he thought to himself and then on their private link, :Zora! Help me, oh help me, I'll do anything!:

:Quiet, you imbecile, it might hear you,: the answer came angrily. :Don't be such a baby!:

The dragon whuffed him once, carefully, and then turned her attention to the dagger he had thrown away. She turned her head aside and he was sure she was ready to snap him in two.

(I just wanted a drink.... Oh, Lord of Luck don't it kill me just because I wanted a drink... I swear, I'll never drink again, or wench, or tell lies.... I swear, just let me live.) He pleaded with the gods above, not sure if they would listen to a demonspawn, but not wanting to attract devils’ attentions by calling on them. Just when he had gathered the courage to move away while the dragon's attention was diverted, it turned and walked back and glared at him and lowered its head to measure for the bite, spreading its wings so he couldn't escape. He nearly fainted when he heard:

:Forgive me - it is I who have offended, and I shall right the damages. I mean no harm to the harmless, ever - demon-weapons and demon-magics trouble me since...: She broke off. The emotion leaking was one of sorrow and suppressed rage. He shuddered. Then she continued, for the mind voice was female.

:...since they are so often used for evil. Walk unhindered in my sight, small one. My teeth are not bared against thee.: Then she turned away, but not before he saw sadness and, (fear? Could it be?) in her eyes. Then she broadcast to the other departed creatures,

:I must be a child - a foolish child at that - jumping at shadows and half-born fears. War-sheep and Troll-friend... there is little I would like better than to join your friends, but I fear if I am to enter, I must squeeze through the door. I have little mage-power of my own, but by my nature, I am warded against the magic of others. Only an Adept could affect me, I think. If you have such skill, please do not use it. In my experience, the results have been... unpleasant.:

Once again, Zeke gathered his wits and started to move, when she suddenly drew herself up and reached for him with her forearms. (Ack! She was just trying to put me off guard!) Then he felt stupid as her reach continued to the pack on her chest and she pulled something from it and held them out to him. They glittered gold and wetly in the glow from the dragon's eyes.

:I am sorry for my outburst,: she continued. :These will find you washing water and dry clothes within the tavern, I am sure. I will take to the stable to dry off and rest. I think I have caused enough fear and confusion for one night.:

She then slipped and slid in the deep mud towards the stable where the two other creatures waited.

(Oh, thank you, Lord of Luck, thank you!) Zeke breathed a sigh of relief, pocketing the coins. (I don't think she said any words of binding...). Then, before anyone changed their minds, he dashed the last few feet that separated him from dryness, warmth and...

(A drink and a wench,) he thought to himself as he paused in the doorway, forgetting his promise of a moment ago in the bright warmth of the inn. He scanned the tables quickly and noticed a young elf sitting in a corner. (Oh, an elf! Looks like a light one, I think. I like elves!) he thought happily. And with a smile and a wave of his hand to clean off the mud and most of the water, he started making his way over to towards the elven gentleman. Just then the contents of a room nearby began disgorging itself, and no less than three elves, and some assorted humans, poured forth. The magic of the group nearly knocked him back.

(Oh, demon drek, that's a troll mage!) Zeke nearly embarrassed himself again. He pressed himself back into the shadows near the edge of the room and breathed a sigh of relief as it passed on by and out the door. (Where could they be going this time of night? And in that storm? It’s hours still till dawn.)

When a number of them had cleared out, he began to feel safer and then his mind was caught by the sound of someone singing. He turned and saw a beautiful human woman sitting on a small raised stage, singing and playing a lute.

(Ah, just the wench I was looking for!) He smiled one of his brilliant smiles, the kind which always melts hearts and paves the way for more intimacies, and then, snagging a half-drunk mug off of a vacated table, he made his way once again towards the cornered elf.

"Greetings, cousin," Zeke bowed, gracefully. "May I sit down? You have one of the best views in the room," and without waiting for an answer, he pulled out a chair and sat so that he could clearly see the little bard and then turned and smiled at the handsome elven ranger.

:Maybe after I acquire the bard, Zora, you can garner the elf and we can have a wonderful time together?:

Zeke took a long pull on the ale and sat back, oblivious to everything, but the bard, the warmth, the drink and the feeling that life free from bindings was very fine after all.

Muranog:
Muranog unfolded slowly from the couch in the Twilight Room and joined the others as they headed out into the main taproom, bringing up the rear while Shadowblade led from the front. With a quick mindtouch, he informed Sable, still outside in the rain, that the pegasus was about to join her and the unicorn and the dragon, and then headed for the door himself, Mindspeaking Sable to join him at the stable so that he could saddle her in preparation for this new journey.

Sable bowed to Ynys and Erelan out in the wet weather outside the stable. :My bondmate comes now, to saddle me for our journey to this Citadel place. I shall return shortly, friends.:

So saying, the huge black sheep made her stately way through the mud to the stable door. By the time she reached it, her troll partner was already inside, getting the saddlebags together.

:You think this weather will ever get any better?: Sable asked mentally. :We can hope,: Muranog replied, as he fastened the saddle on the huge sheep. :It does seem a little unnatural, as if someone is influencing it – maybe it'll slacken off soon. And at least we haven't had any lightning storms yet.: Muranog finished fastening the saddle and saddlebags, and led his bondmate out of the warm, dry stable, back into the rain. Sable grumbled mentally at the renewed excursion into the wet, but followed nonetheless, back to where Ynys and Erelan were still talking.

:Greetings to thee, Erelan,: Muranog mindsent with a deep bow to the wet, bedraggled dragon. :And to thee, Ynys,: with a nod. :Sable and I would be honoured if you would accompany us and the others on this quest, Erelan. I believe the others are preparing and shall be ready to depart soon. Would you join us?:

Typo:
The green dragon had begun to slink off toward the stables, feeling more than a little sorry for herself, when the door to the tavern opened behind her.

"Greetings, winged one..." Solarin offered.

Erelan turned toward the door at the sound of the elven ranger's voice and sized him up from topknot to toe-tip with a blink. :Elven-kin,: she said, her warm mental voice the color of sunlit amber, with surprise and trusting familiarity, :I did not Sense you within. Why are you here in the Cold Lands? Am I right to fear that evil is about? Are the magic-users safe? Why do the forests smell of danger and darkness? What is –:

After a moment, she clipped her torrent of questions short and fanned her wings slightly, realizing that she was acting like a hatchling again. :Oh, I'm babbling like a fool, and none of you know me from First Mother,: she sighed, looking sheepishly at Ynys and Sable, who had been putting up with her silliness longer than any.

:My name is Erelan, daughter of the Waverunner clan of SeaCliffs Aerie. I am... a traveler scholar.: She drew herself up a little, proudly, surreptitiously flicking the worst of the mud off her flared tail-tip. Something in her mind chided that she was being ridiculous, going from battle-fury to sulking to mindless cheer in the span of a few minutes, but the elven features were irresistible. Many, many years she had spent playing in the surf with the elves of SeaCliffs, roaming the forests with the elven-children and her own draconic playmates in search of Adventure, collecting treasures and cobbling together wonderful toys with odds and ends, and her tiny magic power. His face was an instant reminder of home, safety, and family.

:You may have seen me before, or you may not, Elven-kin. Your people and mine have long lived together in peace in the Warm Country - are you of that land? I do not know your face, but it was long ago and I was quite young. I have met other groups of elves in the lands beyond my home, but this is such a sad, lonely place for your kind….:

As the rest of the group began to filter out of the tavern, her enthusiasm seemed to dim somewhat. A grimness at odds with the bright tones of her youth crept into soft eyes, turning them gray.

:There has been a council, then?: she whispered to Solarin. :What can have happened to bring so many different races together? The last time I saw such... well, there was a very long and bloody war soon after.:

Ynys bowed her slender neck in greeting to the elven ranger as she passed by. :Erelan, I believe the group will be embarking on their quest now. Do you intend to join the company?:

:Greetings to thee, Erelan,: Muranog mindsent with a deep bow. :And to thee, Ynys,: with a nod. :Sable and I would be honoured if you would accompany us and the others on this quest, Erelan. I believe the others are preparing and shall be ready to depart soon. Would you join us?:

For a moment, she hesitated. Where these people ventured, danger would await and would no doubt follow. She had little to offer in the way of magic, and for all her size and strength, she was only one young dragon, and her odds with an adept-class mage were only even.

(‘No’ is the sensible answer, Erelan. ‘No thank you, I'm only a scholar’. There are several very serious mages here... what chance is there that you could offer them something they can't better provide for themselves?) The thought caught in her mind an instant before she removed herself from the company of mundanes and myths alike. There was a voice, soft inside her own thoughts, that sounded a great deal like Aristide's warm, scratchy tones.

(‘Yes, little one, I have flown the world, seen a thousand things. I am old, and a very happy codger of a dragon. Look out there across the beaches, youngling. Do you see them there?’)

In her memories, she looked out across the brilliant white sands. The dozing dragons curled in their warm nests glittered like multicolored jewels in the light. (I see dragons, uncle. Many dragons asleep.)

(‘Aye,’) he snorted. (‘Asleep. Dreaming. Lost. They'll live out their lives never knowing what life means, what it's worth. I have spent fifteen hundred years traveling this great world. I have been told countless times how I have "wasted" my life. Erelan - you and I... we are the ones that truly live...’)

The memory stopped her before she could pull away. (Aristide. I know you never meant me to go alone so soon - but it had to be this way. I'll make you proud, father of my heart.) Pulling together all the conviction she could muster, she turned to Muranog.

:I will. By First Mother and my calling as a scholar of this world, I will come with you, and chronicle this journey as I was taught. My wings, teeth, and talons I offer to assist thee,: she finished in the ritual pledge of service, extending her wings and hoping the troll wouldn't notice or realize the bands of slightly golden-tinged scales around her wing-edge that marked her as a dragon not yet past her third molting, and less than two hundred years old. Inwardly, she sighed. (Well, Erelan - you wanted Adventure. Looks like you've got it.)

Raven Darkblade:
In the small room that she had shared with Solarin, Raven began systematically going through all of their possessions, judging what needed to be taken, and what could be left behind.

The Court and festival costumes, though expensive, could be replaced upon their next visit to or contact with Karilanth, and Raven tossed the brilliant elven silks over the back of a chair without a qualm. All of the clothing that could not serve in the Kaladh, either because it was too delicate, too flashy, or otherwise unsuitable, joined the costumes, along with their few pieces of jewelry, except for one or two irreplaceable items. Her elfsteel tunic and gauntlet, on the other hand, were bound up into a surprisingly small bundle and left to be packed.

Weapons were piled in an orderly fashion onto the bed where they were soon sorted out. Knives were stowed in her boots, up her sleeves, and even one in a special sheath down her back. Specially made wrist-bolts were strapped onto her forearms and loaded, the extra bolts stowed in a belt-quiver. Shiruken of elfsteel were secreted over her person. Solarin's longbow and his saddle-bow were placed to one side with his quiver and saddle-quiver. The rest was left.

(There are going to be some happy maids here tonight,) Raven thought wryly, packing leftover trail-rations, serviceable clothing, oiled rain-cloaks, her elfsteel armor and Solarin's be-runed leather. She picked up one last pack.…

The fastenings were mage-locked to herself and Solarin, but Raven wasn't fool enough to think that mage-locks would keep everything out. Along with the locks was a warding protecting the contents from being crushed, and a peculiar earth-magic shielding which made the whole thing invisible to mage-senses unless you knew _just_ what to look for.

The precautions may have been unnecessary, but Raven was taking no chances. Within the small pack were the elven-crafted spellspheres - each a delicate globe of crystal the size of a plum, wrapped in silk, fleece, and more silk, to damp the magical radiations and to protect it, in case either warding should fail - containing one preset spell that was activated when the crystal shell was broken. Healing spells, pillars of fire, invisibility, even one road of swiftness. The partners used them sparingly, but they had proved invaluable in the past and might do so again.

Raven hefted the packs, tucking Solarin's bows under one arm and throwing the pack of spellspheres over her neck and shoulder. Raven headed out to the front of the Midnight Sun where the rain was dying away. Seeing Solarin speaking to the dragon, she grinned slightly and headed on to the stables to ready their pair of desert-bred warsteeds – Solarin's red dun Redlegs and her own pale mist-grey Banshee.

-*-

Solarin smiled reassuringly as the dragon questioned, apologized, and finally pledged service to the group - (Siliel's Light, she's younger than I. I feel old...) - and, when she was through, he began.

"Again I greet thee, dragonkin. I am Solarin Swifthand, of Karilanth, here in the Cold Lands because I am needed here. You are indeed right that there is evil at hand. The forests here have been claimed by a dark mage."

To Erelan, he continued, :There are clusters of your kind in my country of Karilanth, on a plane other than this one. It may be your Warm Land; I do not know.: Growing more serious, he added, :There have been many councils. Things have been changing for our kind, dragonkin Erelan. We go to seek out the power-hold of the dark mage, and destroy it if we may. I know not what brought us all here... but I sense the hand of someone far greater than any of us at work.:

Raven emerged from the stables, leading Redlegs and Banshee. The sleek, long-legged steeds whickered and shook their silken manes and pranced, as though they were wondering what adventure had called them out of their stalls into the fresh-washed night air.

Axe:
Xenon mind spoke the Princess and her companion Dee as they were leaving the room to get ready. He was privately a bit riled over her use of the word "must" in the same sentence as his name, but decided she probably hadn't even noticed. He also felt for her a bit, he had to admit. She raised her voice to get the attention she felt she deserved and she still got little response. He thought that, perhaps, she could use a few lessons in manners that might apply when touring outside of one's own kingdom, and the most safety he could provide her was to teach her to school her attitude when addressing powerful people... but then he decided to just let it by. She was probably wet and excited and tired and a bit scared – all rolled up into one. She could use some help and a bit of the sort of respect she was used to. He spoke.

:Of course Princess Rainbow I will honour your request to teach your pegasi companion Dee'rina. Greetings to you both and felicitations. I will begin instructing you as we travel and certainly will tell you what I know of my uncle as well. It would be an honour to assist you both to be sure, and I look forward to it.:

He watched them leave the room with the others and looked about at the now empty room.

:You know, Kang, I truly do wonder just why all of these good folk feel the need to leave the refuge of this warm, dry and relatively comfortable Inn, late at night, in a Mage storm, in order to seek refuge from mages or some such in a forest full of admitted monsters and evil get. It seems very strange to me that so many people are so excited with the prospect of killing one old dried up evil mage, that they run where they kill they into the night to find him. If it wasn't that my wards are pretty nigh impervious, I'd think he may have bespelled them all from afar, despite their power and precautions. And, of course, in fact, he did. He knows, as do I, that the lure of an opportunity to destroy what they feel is evil is a wine too fine for some to resist. How he will laugh if... when… they walk, assured in their power, into his devises and plottings, and surely they will. Still, there are a lot of powerful and strong willed mages and fighters. I think he may be acting a bit prematurely considering his weakened state.:

Xenon paused and thought.

:My uncle is likely to seek my end if I return with his enemies. Still, he is sure to soon seek my demise for other reasons as well. I have broken with him and it will touch painfully on his hatred of elves, and he will see me, due to my blood and nature, as another of those he hates... another betraying elf. Still if I do go, I stand to gain much, and I am interested in seeing how Aggy plays her hand. I can surely avoid or ally again with my uncle should all come to nought. It is a dangerous game, but all such games are heady wine for me. And, perhaps I can help them avoid some of his traps, and destroy a few of my own.:

:your heart burns with anger over the death of your father Xenon my own,: Kang sent. :we must help these folk for the sake of their good and the good of those of innocent blood like your father you are powerful Xenon my own and can surely help them to avoid many traps as you said and almost all of the undead in the kaladh, near the citadel and even further out were raised by you not medivh:

Xenon pondered Kang's words and his heart did ache for the father he had lost. He remembered the times that they had gone fishing in the small river near the cattle field... the sun, the food they brought with them, just sitting quietly taking a few fish from the good bounty the land provided. He pictured his father... and then saw the blood on a hand as it was raised from his father’s breast, and the look of satisfaction on his uncle's face as the flames consumed his father’s body. He had not witnessed it himself, and no amount of magic could find all of the places his uncle had strewn the ashes. His soul tumbled and fell, a torrential flood of hatred and love and anger and pain. And then the fall ended as he wrenched himself to his feet, hearing Kang's soothing and love in the back of his mind, and he carefully straightened the table and chairs, and destroyed, with a wave, any stray hairs or such that had fallen from those who had recently been within. They could not be blamed for forgetting to do so... they were not afficianados of the Dark Arts. But he was. And he had made a decision. Night fell in his soul and he put out the light... for now.

Xenon walked toward the door. He was looking forward to seeing the little bard again. He had seen her confusion and desire and surprise before she arose and left his side. He had let the line stretch, giving this sweet fish a bit of room to play before he set the hook as it were. She was a nice catch, and that was a truth.

(Damn!) he thought to himself as he walked through the door frame. (This is becoming a feisty morass of who's with who. It shall be jolly fun to watch who gets to be friends and who gets to be outcasts. I love a good play, and here the actors are unwitting!). He smiled his evil but charming looking smile [and a long practiced smile it was!] as he exited into the common room.

As he lounged in the door frame he did a couple of mental errands, mostly to amuse himself as he considered his travel options and watched the last of Sand's performance. She was quite good really. (All those luscious curves and talent too. Mmmmm Mmm.)

He mind sent Muranog in a short burst (now that he had cleared the wards), :Good Troll. I would be happy to tell you what I know of the Kaladh as you did request. If you are still of a mind to hear it, perhaps I can give account as we travel.:

Then, since he sensed the lovely one called Blade in the stable as well, and since he still felt all warm and cozy from the look she gave him a few moments ago, he mind spoke her as well.

:Ola, sweet lady of blade and shadows. It is Xenon, the one for whom your passion burns. I hope perhaps I might ride with you as you travel. I would pay all mind to warming your back, and surely the ride would stimulate our imaginations to consider other pleasures as well....:

He cut off before she could scathe him directly. He was sure that the retort would be fiery and deadly in word at least and possibly include a knife in the back in deed! (Ha! Well a day I do love some good fun!) he thought. (Perhaps she'll just ignore me... but I doubt it!)

:Xenon my own,: Kang sent, :i sense an interesting phenomena at the table to your right near the wall i sense the souls and hear the thoughts of two therein perhaps the boy is possessed i sense the thoughts of a male and a female and they are hard to hear but i hear them and it is in demon that they speak to one another.:

(Two souls?) Xenon thought. Possessed was the likeliest explanation, but the communication in demon got him. A mortal would not know to converse in such a tongue unless he or she was well trained in the dark arts... Oh. Yesssss.... I know their ilk! Indeed yes I do!) To his Sight, their aura glowed with the clean pure aura of an elf... almost. Not that it wasn't elven. It was that it was a tad _more_ than elven. Not much... without suspicion he would not have seen it... but there it was. Just a touch of... and it wavered and there it was no more.

(Responsive warding aura concealment amulet!) he realized triumphantly. (Fragling imp diddle, but that's a decent ward! I wonder what their kind is doing here on a night like this? They're certainly not one of mine. Perhaps I should bind them....)

He approached their table. The fellow was sitting with a half elf who looked decidedly uncomfortable. He leaned against the wall near the two-soul for just a moment as if to allow the serving wench to pass. As he did, he smiled at the two-soul and caught its eye before he mindspoke it.

:Well hello my two-soul'd fiend... I mean friend. I am Xenon, Necromancer and Demoner, oft called the Twilight Adept. I have an errand to attend to and might find your services useful. If you will attend me without, we could discuss terms. And a grand eve to you as well lady soul. The offer is, of course, extended you as well.:

Xenon gave them just a touch of his smile, letting his eyes glitter with promise. Then he moved from the wall and with a nod to the half elf, lathered generously with a friendly smile, he strode across the room.

On the way across, he glanced at Sand, nodded towards the door and said, "I'll wait for you without, lovely one, my conveyance will be nigh," in quiet tones and, with a look of hunger and promise which he all too truly felt, he continued across the room and out the door, devising a rain ward to shield him from the rain as he went.

Dax & Adrienne:
The steady rhythm of Black's movements and the warmth of Dak's cloak quickly lulled Aliaya into a doze. She had not slept well in a long time between weather and nightmares. She was truly beginning to feel safe. Memories drifted through her mind of Sorjo and his tenderness with her and with their children. These turned to other memories of Sorjo – memories of love-making in front of the fire in their bedroom, or out in the stables, or out in the forest. Slowly, Aliaya's memories of Sorjo transformed into fantasies of Dak.

After much too short a time, Dak stopped the horse. Aliaya jolted awake.

"We are not going to reach the town tonight, dear heart, if you don't mind. Black needs to rest. I can have us a small camp in no time and we can use our body heat to warm one another, e'en though no fire will burn in this downpour."

"Oh," she replied in dismay at having to stop. At the sorrowful look in Dak's eyes, she realized he could easily read her reluctance. "Well, camp sounds fine," she covered, putting a bit of brightness in her melodious voice. She slowly began to dismount, awkward from not riding a horse in a long time. Dakorillon came to her aid. Grateful for the help, she allowed him to lower her gently to the ground.

(If only you knew how poor a camp it was going to be,) Dak mused, ruefully. (My tent has a hole, and my blankets are threadbare. Well, at least I can patch the hole). He surreptitiously pulled the edges of the hole together and sealed it with a bit a magic. (It’s not pretty but it should hold and except for the mage light, I haven't used magic in days, no one should notice.)

He then threw it over a convenient tree branch, stretching it across to a juniper with low hanging branches and fastening it with a bit of rope.

"There, we can crawl under where the needles are drier, and it will keep the worst of the rain off." He put his blankets down on the needles, making a decent bed. (With the cloak, she should be plenty warm.)

As Dakorillon began to make camp, Aya felt fairly useless. She rummaged in her bags, and pulled out some old, but edible, dried meat and a bit more fresh fruit. Once Dakorillon had finished his labors and they were settled, sheltered from the rain, she offered him a good portion of the food.

"I apologize that the meat is old, but I assure you, it is perfectly fine to eat. I came across the fruit just a few days ago. I wish I had more to offer you for your hospitality with the camp."

Dakorillon looked at the proffered food and hoped his belly didn't betray him with a loud rumble. It had been two days since he had had anything but pine needles and water; he was out of arrows and hadn't been able to hunt.

(Right now I could eat my boots, but this is infinitely more preferable.)

Aloud he said, "Thank you Aya," noticing her start at the sound of the intimacy again, though the reaction was not as pronounced this time. "I would be most grateful for a bite, but as I had a full repast just after sunset today, I'm not hungry enough yet for any more than that." He took the smallest piece of jerked meat and returned the fresh fruit to her. (She'll need it for the babe, more than you do for your belly, Dak, my boy, two days is nothing compared with a week.)

Aliaya was amazed at his ability to lie so gallantly with a straight face while looking her deep and earnestly in the eyes. She had known few courtiers or diplomats with so developed a skill. If she hadn't been listening to his thoughts all the time, she would never have been able to tell.

However, she wasn't one to let someone go hungry.

"I _know_ you are hungry." She offered the food back to him; he made no move to take it. "You might as well eat it and be full now than not eat. The good goes bad, and you're hungry now not later." She set the food between them, slightly closer to Dak. He still did not take it. Mimicking Cook from the palace and her own mother, she said, in her best motherly tone, "It's going to sit there until you eat it." (There. Hopefully he eats now.) Then she set off on her own musings.

(Waste, she had to say _that_), he thought to himself. He picked up a larger portion of the meat, taking a good bite, and then when her attention turned, deftly secreted it in a pocket for later, when they might need it more.

Some of his mental comments were clear and amusing, and some were confusing. (He speaks like a noble and yet makes comments about not eating for a week. That's strange. Perhaps, his household fell on rough times? I know his intentions towards us at least, often thinking about Ruvan and my comfort and safety.)

Having finished their meager fare in near silence, they were uncomfortable, now that they were out of the rain and not moving. Aliaya was never very good at starting small-talk, and a year on the road, trying to avoid most people, had blunted even that small skill she had. Dakorillon, just kept staring at her face, with his eyes dropping lower on occasion. Those eyes, seen clearly, up close, were unnerving in their scrutiny, and made her belly flutter most distressingly, and now that his hair had dried somewhat, his forelock had flopped to its accustomed place over his left eye, lending him that roguish look she had noted earlier. She still wanted to brush it back with her hand.

She brushed a lock of her own hair behind her ear in response. Mentally, she checked Ruvan, who was awake and practicing his knee-bends and using her for support. She smiled at the child's playfulness, even under miserable conditions. Then she returned her attention to Dak and was startled when his eyes narrowed for just a moment, and an expression of disappointment flickered through his stained-glass blue eyes for a second and was gone.

(What, happened?) she wondered bewilderedly. Her attention had wandered from _listening_ to him to listening to Ruvan for a moment, and now she had no idea what had caused the change.

"We should get some rest, my lady," Dak spoke softly and doused the mage-light, plunging them into darkness. Aliaya laid down on her side, pulled Ruvan close to her and curling around him, in her usual sleeping pose.

(Just sleeping, Dak, just sleeping, they are cold and wet and tired.)

The glint of her wedding ring when she brushed her hair reminded him of his place as rescuer as well. Dak lowered himself behind her and slowly wrapped his arm around her middle, his back protectively turned to the open edge of the tree. He pulled the cloak over her.

She felt a tug at her mind and knew she had to feed Ruvan. She hadn't found a convenient time to feed him yet. While Dak was no longer a stranger, he still wasn't someone she wanted to bare her breast in front of, at least, not yet.

(Stop that! You are becoming awful. Just because it has been almost two years since you have made love to a man does not mean you are to throw yourself at the first man to be kind to you. Now feed your son!)

(Luck and Love! You're such an idiot, Dak. _Wet and cold_ are they and you and they could catch lung sickness if you stay that way. You've got to get out of the wet clothes and, either into dry ones or nothing at all. Oh, sure, you'd just love trying to explain that to a jealous farmer husband. ‘But, honest sir, I was just keeping her warm.’) Thoughts of holding her were quickly dampened before something rose to the bait.

"Aliaya? You need to take all your clothes off but you can leave your drawers on." Dakorillon's voice came out of the darkness, startling her just as she was shifting to open her blouse to feed Ruvan.

Aliaya stiffened in shock. (Is he going to rape me?) flashed through her mind. (No, he said to leave my drawers on, what is going on?)

"What?" she said aloud. (Maybe I misunderstood him?)

"You need to take your wet clothes off or you will catch lung sickness. That won't be good for you or the baby. I have an extra shirt in my saddle bags you can wear if you don't have something dry of your own." So saying, he rummaged in the bag and she felt a dry shirt, scented of him and leather, placed in her hand. "I'll go outside while you change." He rose and crawled back out into the rain to give her privacy.

She was relieved that his intentions were still good, and quickly stripped to her underwear, realizing that while her front had protected Ruvan and kept him dry, water had seeped in everywhere else. The dry cloth warmed to her body quickly and she did feel better immediately.

(I'm so short, that this shirt nearly reaches my knees.) Still she felt exposed with her legs bare and only a thin silk shirt covering her. (I didn't sleep this naked in the cold, even with Sorjo,) she thought. (I guess bad weather means no modesty.)

"All right, I'm done," she called out, covering her and Ruvan with the cloak. Then she saw his shadowed form reenter their makeshift tent. She felt him sit, and rustling sounds and movements attested to him removing his clothing as well. Thoughts of what his elven form might look like flooded her mind. He then lay down again behind her, slipping under the cloak and pulling her blankets up over them both.

Aya instinctively snuggled into Dak's lean body, their shared warmth now suffusing through her. A bit of giddiness from his closeness overcame her. (That's no way to behave) she scolded herself, the thin silk shirt feeling more like nothing between them, making it harder to chastise herself. His arm warm around her middle and his apparently bare chest warm at her back. She wondered if she was bare below as well and practiced some calming techniques until she was nearly asleep to curb those thoughts.

Ruvan tugged at her mind again, tired of waiting.

:Sorry little one: She felt a touch of embarrassment again, but, noting Dak's rhythmic breathing denoting sleep, Aya subtly shifted her weight and opened her borrowed shirt. (He must be exhausted from all the walking). She arranged Ruvan into a comfortable eating position. :I love you,: she sent to her son, along with the emotion. The tide of emotions that followed broke her strength, and she quietly cried the tears she had not allowed herself earlier.

(Luck and Love), Dak thought, maintaining his steady breathing. (Please don't cry, darling, I won't hurt you. I won't touch you, and if anyone tries, I'll feed them their balls.) His distress at her tears quickly stilled his rising desire at holding a near naked female against him, when he was wearing but a pair of shorts himself, and turned it into a determination to see her to safety, whatever the cost to himself. He stroked her hair softly and laid a gentle kiss on the nape of her neck.

"There, there," he whispered. "Dak's here; he won't let anything hurt you, ever again, dear heart. Shhh, don't cry, little dove, don't cry." Rubbing up and down her arm and the curve of her hip, he repeated the words like a mantra until she quieted, and then, pulling her possessively against him again, he drifted off. Her sweet smell in his nostrils, her soft warmth warming him against his fears of inadequacy, keeping the dreams away.

Start | Back | Next

This page is hosted by

Get your own Free Home Page