"Miss Whitehall?"
Gaelduin Irileth grinned to herself as she tucked silver bangs behind her pointed ears, responding to her alias in chirpy, girlish tone. "Yes, Dame Morn?"
The wrinkled orc glowered over the worn table that had clearly not been built for anyone larger than a halfling. Her tired grey eyes reflected flames of candles meant to illuminate the parchment before her in place of the waning sunlight. Letting out a sigh, she threw a hard look at the girl standing on tiptoe near the door to the dimly lit cottage.
Stocky, but small in stature. Hands placed on curved hips, she held herself with a confidence that seemed out of place in one so young. Piercing green eyes stared out from beneath recently cropped hair, sharply shaved behind her pointed ears but flowing in longer waves over her forehead and down her neck. Perky. Annoyingly so. Would not stop pacing and humming as she explored the cramped room, ribbons draping from the violet dress she wore twirling behind her. Her boots were soft black leather, untouched by wear from work or fade from sun. And her silver cuffs and earrings seemed to speak of an easy life, unmarred by any sort of want for belongings, let alone food and shelter.
No doubt another aspiring lady of the court, a fan of her Master's work, here to beg an audience with him and discuss her plans for an enchanted engagement ring.
"Pity the sod that gets attached to this one," Morn grumbled under her breath.
Raising her voice, she continued to look down with contempt at the half-elf.
"You're late, Miss. For your appointment? Master Braddof does not take kindly to tardiness." The evening was fast approaching, and the orc had just one more letter to write before she could head out of this gods-forsaken cluttered office space she'd managed to wedge herself into, go home, and relax in rooms and chairs that were actually built for creatures of her size. She hoped that this pixie-child would not waste her precious time.
Gael opened her mouth to protest, to explain, but was interrupted by a familiar baritone voice rumbling from beyond the cramped entryway.
"Ah, Dame Morn. I'm sure there is a very good reason for this young lady to have kept me waiting. Do show her in, and that will be all I need from you for today. Thank you."
Morn rolled her eyes heavenward, a silent prayer of gratitude hovering behind her lips. "Yes, Master."
Gaelduin watched silently as the lady orc heaved her body out of the small chair, ducked under the hanging lamps and disappeared, after some struggle, through the narrow doorway into the glowing forest town of Teara.
Thank Gaii…she's gone, Gael thought, her mood brightening considerably now that she was left alone with the man hidden further in the lodge. She took her time, dancing lightly past the dusty collections of books surrounding the entry hall that doubled as a receiving office. Her elf ears pricked at the mild hum of electrotech, and she followed the sound to a large, mahogany door that appeared to be glowing at the edges.
Her eyes lit up as she recognized the light plucking of lute strings, accompanying a gruff but soft singing voice. "Dwarves may be built with hearts of stone, but elven eyes cut like diamonds…" The singing faded into low rumbles, and Gaelduin paused in her investigation, puzzled when she heard the crashing sound of broken glass followed by muttered Draconic curses.
Pushing gently on the worn wood of the door, she slipped into a small and elegantly furnished library. Unlike the office in front, the books here appeared to be well-appreciated and taken care of, a variety of colored bindings shining from the shelves covering the east side of the room. Electrotech lamps whirred faintly on the shelves and walls throughout the room – framing windows and an open door leading out to an overgrown grass path, that seemed to disappear into the firy Teara sunset. Red banners hung over the lit fireplace, and three fur blankets were spread on the floor before it, creating an inviting space for reading. A massive desk and brown leather armchair wedged into the corner opposite the bookshelf, covered in fluttering pieces of parchment. As she crept closer, Gael could see that some were blacksmith's designs for weapons and armor, while others were clearly encoded messages, missives designed so that only those of The Order could read them and carry out their individual assignments to keep peace within the realm. The number of different languages present on each page was enough to intrigue her, distracting her briefly from her exploration.
Suddenly, a warm breeze whistled through the library. A flash of flame and a roaring chuckle from outside the cottage jolted her from her occupied reading. Gael hurriedly replaced the coded text on the desk, and tiptoed towards the open western door. When she peeked out of the door, she saw a hilltop forge blazing almost as brightly as the setting sun behind it. A young red dragon curled around the circle of clay stones and shifted his weight, blue eyes flickering as he let out another burst of flame onto the coals.
A self-playing lute, another marvel of electrotech's capabilities, sat in between the dragon's polished ivory horns as he swayed his head in time to the music. Another chuckle rang out as a massive, bearded man burst out from behind the dragon's wings and began climbing his neck, attempting to retrieve the lute from his dancing friend. His braided ginger hair shone in the firelight, flowing over his blackened leather doublet, teeth bared in a playful snarl as he shouted, "God s'damn you, Dracovir! Gimme back th' lute b'for it b'cumz s'tinder."
Gael couldn't help but laugh at the scene before her, ruining all surprises she had planned for Master Hellvenko Braddof, accomplished blacksmith, spy, founder and secret head of The Order – and most recently, adoptive father to a mischievous dragon.
Hellvenko turned, his ice blue eyes gleaming. The scowl on his scarred face quickly melted into a warm smile of recognition. "Ahhh, Gael! How wunnerful of you t'join us. I missed you."
Draco snorted back a guffaw, a puff of smoke curling up from his nostrils as he clawed the earth in front of him. "Ah, Gael!" he mocked his friend, "I wuz s'just telling m'son here what'n aaamazing lay y'were."
Gaelduin choked back a giggle of her own. "Oh, is that so, Draco? Well, I'm happy to hear that I'm worth bragging about. Although, I'm not entirely sure if this is a family-appropriate discussion."
Venko began laughing again, and nearly slipped off his dragon into the burning circle of coals below them. Grabbing on to Dracovir's horns, he swayed slightly as he asked, "Sed me down gen'ly please, s'there's a good lad."
The dragon lowered his nose to the ground, and Hellvenko slid off safely into the grass, clutching his lute to his chest. He lay on his back, coughing and laughing as Gael slowly walked to stand over him. His rosy face looked up at her through bleary and dilated eyes. "Mmmmm, m'dear. You alwayz s'look so lov'ly. All three o' you do."
She shook her head slowly, smiling down at her mentor turned lover. "Both of you have had a bit too much to drink, hm? Venkie, you must have completely forgotten about our date. I'm surprised at you."
Hellvenko furrowed his brow, looking extremely displeased at the accusation. "Of cours' I didn' forget. S'just…we wer' makin' a nice s'dinner for you…when Draco here ssspillt th' raspberry rum on th' forge."
Gael sighed as she took in the shattered bottle fragments and forgotten goat roast smoldering in the embers. Of course, alcohol inhalation would produce a much quicker high than you could get by simply drinking the stuff.
Venko continued coughing, interrupting her silent musings. "Did j'ya change your hair? S'looks dif'rent."
She shook her head and sighed yet again, pushing her curly silver locks out of her eyes. Well, time to accept that this isn't the reunion you hoped for, and do your best to help. "Just got tired of it falling out of every braid," she said as she reached down to help Venko up.
The man staggered to his feet, clutching the back of her head with one hand and leaning down into her face as his boots found solid ground. He wove her short hair in between his fingers and pulled slightly, watching her green eyes widen in the fading twilight, listening to her gasp in sudden arousal.
"Mmm, ssstill long enough t'hold," he said with a wink.
His lips found hers in a drunken kiss, and she wrapped her arms around him, supporting his weight as best she could with her small frame. Gael smiled into the kiss as she inhaled the fragrance of dragon smoke and rasberry rum on his beard. She couldn't deny her attraction to Venko, even when he was in this state. Her insides sparked at the slightest touch; the mere scent of him had her mind spinning.
"Venkie…mmm…it is…so good…to see you again," she whispered between kisses. "Let's go…inside…okay?"
Venko pulled back and flashed her a devilish grin. "Whatev'r you say, m'lady."
Gaelduin squeaked as he pinched her bum before slinging his left arm around her shoulders. She wrapped her arm around the back of his waist, trying her best to support him as they shuffled towards his cottage. While Hellvenko continued singing about the forbidden love between a dwarvish prince and an elven enchantress, Gael glanced over her shoulder at their dragon friend. "Draco, you should come away from the forge or you'll have a nasty headache tomorrow morning."
Dracovir nodded, albeit a bit wobbily, and began slowly rumbling down the worn hillside towards the edge of town. "I'll jus' sleep outsi' th' stables. I don' feel well enough t'fly ennywer t'night."
"Just be careful not to break anything else. We'll see you in the morning," Gael called, a smile on her lips as she realized how nice it felt to fit into this strage little family Venko had built. She kissed his shoulder as she steered the master spy into the library, and deposited him in the chair just inside the door. Skipping nimbly from his grasping hands, she giggled at his irritated groan and turned to gather blankets from before the fire. "Now, Venkie, you need to get some rest."
Hellvenko couldn't help but admire her figure as she bent over to pick up a pelt from the floor. "Mmm, rest," he murmured as he fought to keep his eyes open. "I don' need ressst nearly az much az I need you."
Gaelduin's heart skipped a beat and she let out a breathy chuckle. She turned back to him, blanket clasped to her breast, and examined his flushed face from where she stood at the fireplace.
His blue eyes glimmered in the lamplight, dilated from both desire and spirits, reflecting the smoldering coals of the fire as he struggled to stay conscious. A warm pink tone spread over his scarred cheeks, though whether from the alcohol or embarrassment, she could not say. The lacings of his doublet and white dress shirt had loosened, a silky patch of purple cloth peeking out from beneath his clothing and the braided strands of his beard.
The furs fell from Gael's arms as she reached into the neckline of her dress, pulling a white square of cloth from between her breasts. "I've been wearing mine near my heart as well," she said softly, holding the cloth out to him as she walked back to Venko's side.
Hellvenko smiled and took her hand in his, examining the white patch she had torn from his shirt as a trophy the last time they were together. He struggled to keep his eyes on hers, chuckling softly as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier.
Gael squeezed his hand as he fell asleep, pulling one of the furs over his lap and planting a light kiss on his forehead. She sighed as she turned towards his desk, pushing the white cloth back into the folds of her dress. She gathered an armful of coded parchment and stalked back towards the fireplace with a mischievous smile on her face.
There was a lot of reading to be done.