A/N: So, I just replayed Tribes of the East, and I forgot how much I loved Zehir. But besides that, I was watching Khengi in the Gotai's campaign, and it occurred to me that we get lots of small-role characters for various campaigns, but we only see them once or twice, and they are usually either right-hand men or trusted servants, or bad guys. But say you have 100 mages...those guys are all people. Say Ornella had a few female vampires under her command who were sorta like hand-maidens, went with her everywhere, trusted servants, but more like friends, helping her get used to being a vampiress. And what about some of those other heroes? The interactions you never see. So, this came about...and after finishing it, I had nothing better to do, to be honest.


Prologue

Everyone remarked on their similarity. How alike they were in attitude and thought. They both scoffed, and grunted something about how to get back at the other for the latest in a long line of small and petty fights.

Everyone said they were in love. How they looked at each other with a deep passion seldom seen in the Silver Cities, even among the more 'normal' folk. They both growled that hate was as much passion as love, and returned to their bickering.

Everyone told them their marriage would never last. How could it? They fought constantly, and were too dedicated to their work. And the chance of children was practically nothing. They both growled and said you didn't need children to make love work...

Everyone told him it was unavoidable. That she was never meant to be tied down. He just growled at them to get back to work, and locked himself in his study for weeks.

Everyone told her it was unavoidable. That he could never be with someone like her. She just snarled at them to do their duty, and shut herself away in her tent, for days not leaving even to eat or drink.

Everyone had always told them everything. They weren't going to let it happen.


The artifact was slammed down onto the desk with the care of one who knows dynamite is explosive, but only when lit. It was in perfect condition, considering it's age, and the hand that reached out to pick it up touched it with professional care, and it was held up to eyes that evaluated everything. After awhile, the owner of the desk spoke, in a voice as silken smooth as the finest whiskey.

"Well, Zehir...an excellent prize. However, if you would care to examine my own, I believe you'll find it far more...to your taste."

A Ring of Vitality was not cheap, but it was not exactly grand either. Still, most of their little challenges had to be realistic for them...for now. Zehir definitely planned on beating her hard when he got his full wizard status. If he could just get the damned elementals to stop disappearing after a few hours...

"Meth-Ida, I highly doubt-"
"Just take a look, dear boy. It's hardly going to harm you, is it?"

Zethir sighed over-dramatically and rolled his eyes, but held his hands out for the artifact. His fellow mage smiled, and before she could retrieve it from her desk, he opened his mouth again.

"And this had better not be like last time, where you handed me that rune. I was getting the frost out of my robes for weeks!"

She chuckled, a sound slightly more grating than her voice, more guttural. He sniffed in annoyance and waited as she lifted out a small bundle, and placed it in his hands.
Without hesitation, he opened it, careful but eager, as a child on their birthday. He smiled as soon as the bright velvet showed itself, and set the bundle down gently, nodding approval and a bit of a grudging agreement.

"Yes...Boots of Magical Defense...good shape too, must be recently made...well, fairly recent. Expensive though, that's fine velvet, not the cheap stuff."

The other mage laughed, and leaned back. For a moment, they just looked at each other, both grinning and both glad of their 'presents.' And eager to outdo the other again later.
Zehir finally dropped his gaze and chuckled, and wrapped the Boots again.

"I'll be sure to use these the next time my army and I go out...you know, if I ever get one."

He shook his head and went to turn away, boots clutched against his chest in case someone decided to take them. Older wizards weren't above stealing a younger one's finds, and even though Cyrus was his father...well, it wouldn't be the first time his father let something clever teach him a lesson.
As he turned, however, he felt a soft grip on his shoulder, and half-turned his head. Her deep golden eyes were staring into his own green, and he saw the faint blue around the pupil that leaked into the iris. Her usual mirth and teasing was nowhere to be found, and her voice was softer, gentler. Less smooth than it was sincere.
He remembered her father, a half-djiin wizard who had made the fatal mistake of asking a Master Gremlin to air his robes. Air elementals don't like to be summoned for something so menial.

"Zehir-"
"Take your prize, Meth-Ida. I expect an even greater artifact next time."

The sincerity leaked from her whole body, and was rapidly replaced with a venomous and fickle nature he knew far better. She glared at him, and snorted, but it wasn't as harsh as usual.

"Fine, Zehir. Next weekend then."

He shut his eyes as she stormed away. In most women that would be a metaphor, but being a quarter djiin, she just teleported away, and it was very painful to watch from less than two feet away.
Well, there went his fun for the week. She'd won, again...but he HAD got a nice pair of boots of magical protection, and he could think of a few uses for them tonight...and they seemed to be the right size. And as he turned his head a little, he was absolutely thrilled to realize she had taken the ring as well. Somtimes, you had to hate someone to know them...