YAEVINN
Yule 1263
the camp
near Little Marsh
Temeria
Their camp was growing, as was the commando. Twenty men and women were fighting together under Iorveth's command by now. It was quite impressive. The commando was mostly made of Aen Seidhe from Temeria and Cidaris, as himself. Only Iorveth and Toruviel came from Blue Mountains and it gave them a considerable advantage, for example: the command.
Yaevinn looked at Iorveth's tent just in time to see him emerging from it and heading to check the rest of the camp. Yeavinn stood there for a while only to see, what he expected to see – Toruviel emerging from the same tent with a small smile, just a few minutes later.
Obviously...
He approached her and began in a mocking voice:
"You should do something with your hair. You look messy."
"Yeavinn, just correct them. It's not so hard and I can't see" – she said with a smile.
"Me? You should have asked the person, who brought you to such a state" – he replied coldly.
"What do you want?" – she asked coldly now.
"Nothing."
"Exactly, you've already said that to me some time ago, remember? We are walking in circles..."
"Forget, what I said" – he stated, turning around and heading to Finnoladh, leaving her standing slightly dumbfounded.
He glanced back at her from a distance and she looked exactly the same as the first time they've met. Internally, he was still debating whether he is grateful or whether he curses the day he laid his eyes on her for the first time.
Feainn 1262
Wyzima
Temeria
The outskirts of Wyzima, as they were called officially, were rather slums. Buildings were made of wood and thatched roofs. Many of them didn't even have windows. He was living alone in the last house by the pool in the direction of the forest. He spent most of his days as a poacher and a smuggler. To tell the truth, there was not much more to do for a Seidhe here.
Just as he stood in front of an old mill, by many considered a haunted place, he overheard a conversation in Hen Llinge:
"We can run straight to the forest..." – one female voice stated.
"But the soldiers are waiting for us to do so" – the other female said. – "No... there must be another way to get away with these weapons."
"There is" – he said calmly, entering the mill – "by the water and to the forest down South."
Both Seidhe were aiming at him from their bows, but as they realised, that he is a Seidhe, they lowered their weapons. One of them had long, blond hair and green eyes. The other had raven-black hair with two thin plaits braided at her temples and pitch-black eyes. She looked predatory and wild. For a moment, he held his breath at her sight.
"My name is Toruviel aep Sihiel" – she stated. – "And this is My'aena."
"Pleasure to make your acquittance. I heard you well, but for me, you are more a Cerbin than Toruviel."
She looked at him pointedly and smiled. Then, she spoke again:
"Would you join our fight?"
"Fight?" – he replied with a question.
"Against them: filthy, barbarian pavienn..."
"You are one of those, who are called Scoia'tael, aren't you?"
"Yes. So, how will it be? Do you stay here, in the slums or... do you prefer our forest?"
He didn't hesitate, before saying:
"Just let me gather my belongings and I'll guide you away from here."
Before leaving the mill he looked back and saw her looking at him, as well. Then and there he knew, that he would follow her anywhere. Even to the depths of the hell itself.
It was a week later, as they arrived at the camp when he understood, that she is already following some else. A young, black-haired Seidhe with green eyes. At the same time, he realised, that he's not only Toruviel's commander, but also a friend and time-to-time lover and they knew each other for fifteen years...
His relation with the slightly younger man quickly became complicated. The first night in the camp they spent on a threesome. But, as pleasurable as it was, it was also... the beginning of the problem. Only a few days later, he felt, that the mere presence of Iorveth near Toruviel is making him see red. Jealous. He had never thought, that it would ever happen to him, but... there he was: possessive. Falling in love with a woman, who was practically a stranger and quasi-taken, too.
Toruviel on the other hand, was manoeuvring between both of them, seemingly totally oblivious to what was happening. Yaevinn and Iorveth had a fight two months later, not even a month ago. Not about her, obviously, but... both knew, that she is the main reason behind their quarrel. They reconciled quickly and had a conversation... No, THE conversation:
"Yeavinn, I... If you mind, it stops. I've already told you that many times before."
"Of course I don't mind. We shared before as we are shared by women here. It's how it works and I enjoy it, but... one day I will ask the same of you and you won't refuse."
"Obviously, why would I? As you said: it is what we do."
"Hmm... Let's drink to that, fraere."
Iorveth was ready to leave Toruviel for good, but Yeavinn was no fool. She was not this kind of a woman to accept any arrangement they may make. She and only she could decide about her relationships. If he had accepted Iorveth's offer – she would never come back to him, of that he was more than certain. So Yeavinn gave up, reassuring the younger Seidhe, that he and Toruviel can do whatever they please. He clenched his jaw and fisted his palms the second he said it, but... he still did.
Additionally, Iorveth was the commander. Not that he was bad at it – to the contrary: the Seidhe had an impressive intuition and was a skilled fighter. Still... following his orders never came easily. But Yeavinn knew as well, that if he tried to undermine him, it would look as pettiness and jealousy, so he never did.
Just right now the younger Seidhe was approaching him slowly:
"Yeavinn, we..."
But he never finished. They heard a whistle and Iorveth answered quickly. Just then, from the forest to the East, a group of five riders emerged. At their head was a proud and handsome Seidhe on a bay horse. His long, dark brown hair was falling in graceful waves on his shoulders and his ebony eyes were carefully scanning the surroundings. He looked impressive. His horse stopped before them and he got down with studied grace. He was wearing a crimson shirt with dark brown trousers and coat. For a man, who has been fighting for half a year already, he was still the impersonation of Aen Seidhe elegance. With calm face he approached them and stated:
"Fraere" – just before hugging Iorveth brotherly.
"And you are?" – Isengrim looked attentively at him.
"Yeavinn, it is an honour, commander" – he answered politely.
"Fraere" – the man said with a smile – "and it's a pleasure. Now, come... show me what you've built here" – he motioned to the camp and went inside.
Iorveth looked at Yeavinn unsure, but followed.
So this is an inspection. Interesting.
Yeavinn chuckled to himself before entering the camp.