Chapter Six
Bees, Honey, and Sweetness

The trio walked their mounts through the Weeping Wood, ever on the lookout for signs of danger. Odie was muttering to himself loudly, causing the elven scout to turn and glare back at him with those eerie and unfathomable, pale-iris eyes. The elven albino led them ever deeper into the woods, with Liam coming next in line, wishing to stay upwind of the dwarf, whose split, reptilian headband had started to ripen. The unsettled Odie brought up the rear. Two days had passed since they'd left the elves' forest stronghold of Andalast. In that time, they'd crossed the broken lands once more on their way to Erik's tower. Parethiel had led them on into foreboding trees when, at last, they reached the forest's outskirts. Now, the trees were thick about them, emoting a distinctly disheartening and ominous effect upon the group... even the elf felt it. This was no natural forest... and as a result, the troupe had lost what little cheer with which it had started.
Finally, unable to stand the thickness of the silence which shrouded them, the dwarf hollered out. "Odie hates woods... Odie hates trees... Odie likes honey, but DOESN'T like bees...!" When the dwarf looked to his companions again, a confused expression came over his ruddy features... as the human and elf hunched over their mounts... sobbing in muted laughter. It took them several moments to recover before they could continue onward, and continue they did.
They came into a small glade of birch, divided by a shallow, rushing brook. Parethiel held up a pale and slender hand, entreating silence from the others, and then dismounted his dappled-gray stallion. The albino elf scanned the terrain, as he resettled the twin, conversely-curved yatagans that were belted at his hips a bit more comfortably. The exotic blades were designed to function with a sickle-like action. On his back was the fabulous quiver that contained his bow, despite the fact that the magnificent weapon was almost twice as long as the quiver in which it was contained. And lastly, the pigment-challenged faerie wore subdued, woodland-colored clothing over a resplendent, elven chain shirt fashioned from dark silver.
"Dismount," Parethiel instructed, at last, "and lead them across."
"Are we nearing-- the Hellspire?" Liam asked the elven scout.
"vin Drako's tower lies half a day's ride in the direction we are bound, on through the forest," the albino replied. At a point halfway across the stream, Parethiel stopped suddenly and fell into a low crouch, eyes alarmed, and hands reaching for his unique blades. The ambush was sprung... and the pixies swarmed over them with their squeaky, peeping war cries sounding in the relative stillness of the glade. A wild, dwarven roar sounded out in the forest, drowning out the buzzing and droning for a moment. "ODIE DOESN'T LIKE BEES!" The dwarf reiterated, loudly.

Astesion joined Eliza, where she leaned heavily on the railing. "Once night comes, the stars will tell us where we are," he told her. Eliza trembled next to him. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the rail tightly. "What's wrong? Was the bloodshed too much for you?"
He put a concerned hand on her shoulder and its light weight felt like a ton to her. She fell heavily to her knees, her breathing quick and shallow. Her face turned deathly pale.
Astesion gasped and yelled out for a doctor. Sinister Dexter and Sicxlemire came to her aid as well. "Eliza! Are you alright? Are you injured?" they asked in alarm. "I... I just feel light-headed, that's all," she said weakly.
"Fainting spell,"Dexter concluded. "Happens when pregnant women don't eat. Low blood sugar."
"Pregnant?" sputtered Sicxlemire. "When did that happen?" he said, glancing at the eladrin who fretted over the girl.
"She is nearly three months now." Dexter informed them.
Astesion stroked Eliza's hair to calm her. "Don't breathe so fast. You'll hyperventilate. Take deep and slow breaths. Now, what have you eaten today?"
"I managed a little bread. I'm alright, just give me a moment, really, I am okay."
"Just bread all day? Crazy woman, no wonder you're faint! You need to lay down and eat, right now." Astesion gathered her in his arms and started to get to his feet.
Eliza protested. "I don't need carried, I'll be alri....." The phrase went unfinished. The sudden vertigo of being lifted had made her faint dead away.

The fairy-folk swarmed out of their ambush positions and bore down on the intruders. Tweedle, the pixie warlord, led the charge; sworn into the service of Her Majesty, the Queen, it was his "duty" to deal with this new and unexpected threat. Tiny swords at the ready, the invisible host descended upon the trio at the sounding of their war-leader's high-pitched, signaling whistle. His lieutenants-- the Lady Dee and young Master Dum, leaped forward into battle, leading their respective contingents of battle-fevered pixies, the latter of the two hop-skipping along the ground, as he was far too rotund to attain true flight, no matter how fast and furious he fluttered those gossamer wings of his. Only the buzzing and droning of their rapidly-moving wings heralded the onslaught of their strike.
Liam and Odie were swinging sword and axe desperately, in an attempt to fend off their unseen attackers, but were having very little success. Tiny cuts opened up on their skin, sending them into a panic.
The elven albino reacted a bit differently. Parethiel straightened out of his crouch, bent swords in hand. He raised them above his head and turned them a quarter-turn towards each other, presenting the flats of his blades to his aggressors. The curved yatagans waved intermittently back-and-forth over the elf's head as he closed his eyes and fell into a meditative trance. The elven scout began to sway, bob, and weave with a smooth and fluid grace, focusing his concentration upon what his ears told him. The flat surface of one blade flashed forward, snapping in at something heard, but not seen. A stunned pixie warrior bounced to the ground. Parethiel spun and whirled in a frightening and deadly dance of graceful precision, knocking each unseen fairy who dared cross the perimeter of his reach... out of thin air. The "blade dancer's" momentum continued to build.
Odie watched the elf's dance for a moment, then snorted and threw down his axe. He fumbled with his nearby pony's saddlebags, taking a dozen painful stings in the process, until he found what he was looking for--a jar of extra-sticky sweet honey. The dwarf opened the lid, stuck one finger in the jar and licked it clean, while flinging the rest out in a wide arc. Honey stuck to gossamer wings, sending the pixies into a shrieking fury. Two of those attacking the dwarf got stuck together and fell in a heap when one tried to fly upwards and the other dove to the side. Odie roared happily and booted the prone creatures past a stunned Liam, where they smacked into a nearby tree and slumped motionless to the ground. "He's Odie the fierce! He's hardy and hale! He likes to eat honey And make pixies SAIL!" The dwarf grabbed another jar of honey and double-fisted them, throwing honey everywhere while he danced about, kicking and flailing. A fair amount of it landed on Liam and Parethiel, who seemed oblivious to the dwarf's antics.
The elf finished his dance in the center of a perfect star-shaped pattern of fallen little fey creatures, two bodies deep. Odie's kills were scattered everywhere, some dangling from tree limbs, others tangled together, sweet and extra-sticky in their death throes. Liam could not claim any casualties for himself.
Odie had retrieved one of the little things by skewering it on his axe and began munching on its delicate, honey-coated thigh. Parethiel snatched the weapon away and disgustedly disengaged it from the creature's body. "But Odie _likes_ pixies," the dwarf sulked.
"You will not eat the dead!" the elf said, red eyes flashing.
Odie shrugged and went over to Parethiel's pixie pile, which was just now beginning to stir, and snatched one groaning little faerie out by the hair, eyeing it appraisingly. A silent Parethiel strode up behind him, and suddenly Odie felt the tip of a sword at his back. "Odie won't eat! Promise! Odie LIKES pixies!" The dwarf dropped the creature and held his stubby hands out wide.
Parethiel ignored him and began gathering up the groggy pixies, taking their tiny weapons and packing the little people into a saddlebag. He fastened it so that their heads were free, but their movement was restricted. Liam watched Parethiel curiously, not understanding why these little faerie creatures, cousins of the elves as far as he could tell, had attacked them. When the albino turned around again, Liam saw worry lines etched upon his pale features.
"We will question them, but we cannot let them go," Parethiel said firmly. "They answer to him, as does every living creature in this abomination of a forest, I suspect."
"Not Odie," Odie put in, licking out the insides of his empty honey jars. He noisily smacked his lips.
"Thank the Seldarine for that," Parethiel sarcastically replied.

Eliza awoke to a familiar sensation. She groaned to herself as she crawled to the edge of the bed. "Erg, why do pregnant women have to pee so much? It isn't as if the baby is big enough to push on my bladder yet!" As soon as her feet hit the floor, she groaned again. "And nausea, what is the point of that?" She pulled herself to her feet and, eyes gritty with sleep, stumbled to the pot.
Relieved and feeling much better, Eliza slipped back into bed. Outside the port window, rain pattered a soothing rhythm. Lightening flashed across the beautifully crafted musical instruments that had been carefully hung on the wall. Thunder shook the crystals on the lamp, making them chime sweetly. Eliza closed her eyes, nuzzling the soft satin pillow.
As sleep beckoned to her, something niggled at her tired mind. She pulled the goose-down blanket up to her chin, trying to push the annoying sensation out of her head. Then it hit her.
She bolted upright. "My room doesn't have a window..." From the satin bed sheets to the instruments to the man's shirt she wore, none of this was right. Right on cue, a very soaked Captain Astesion entered the chamber.
"Ah, Eliza! I trust you had a nice nap?" he asked, throwing his dripping cloak onto a coat tree. The downpour had flattened the copper shock of hair into dark auburn curls around his pointed elven ears and eyes. The wide smile fell when he saw the look on her face. "What's wrong?"
"What am I doing in your shirt and in your bed?" she asked accusingly.
Astesion blinked and then laughed out loud. "Ah, Eliza! My private chamber is under the poop deck, that is, the raised part on the back of the ship. That way, if I am needed quickly on the deck, all I have to do is exit my room and I am there. When you fainted, it was easier to bring you here than carry you downstairs."
"Oh."
He shook his head in amusement. As Eliza gathered her thoughts, he kicked off his boots and began to take off his shirt. "What are you doing?" Eliza exclaimed, aghast.
"Changing out of these wet clothes." She stared at him blankly. "Oh, come now! It isn't as if you have never seen a naked man before!" Astesion crossed his arms and glared; after all, this was his room!
"Well, I haven't!"
"So then, you're telling me you never saw the baby's daddy naked?"
"No, I didn't. I mean, there is no daddy. I mean, it isn't like that! Dammit, Captain. You know nothing and assume too much!"
Shocked, Astesion sank into the chair at his desk. "Well, huh... Why don't you tell me what it's like, then?"
With a sigh, Eliza did. She told him how she ran away from Liam and Erik, the chase in the woods, Charles, Odie, and the elves. She told him about meeting Dexter, the pool, and the cave leading to this land. Finally, she told him of the prophecy in the scroll.
Astesion absorbed all this quietly. After a long moment of silence, he said, "And here I thought your elemental powers were all hedge-witchery. Now I find my ship blessed with the most precious of cargos. The Chosen, here!" He sighed in confusion. "And both the elves and vin Drako want to control it's fate... this is serious, very serious indeed."
His brow creased with worry. Suddenly, he smiled. "I've turned into a prune while listening to you! I need to finish getting changed into something dry. Unless you want an introduction to male anatomy, I suggest you turn your head."
Eliza blushed furiously and covered her eyes. She could hear the soft sounds of clothes being removed and dropped to the floor. After a few moments, curiosity got the better of her. His back was to her as he stood in the buff, looking for pj's in a chest of drawers. _Not bad,_ she thought to herself. _A bit on the skinny side, like an elf, but at least he has a bit of muscle mass._
"Eliza! What *ever* are you staring at?"
With a start, she realized that he was watching her in a small mirror on top of the chest. "I... I was looking for wings, " she stuttered guiltily.
"Wings? That's the first time I have heard that excuse." The eyes in the mirror mocked her. Since it was to late to pretend innocence and hide her face, Eliza focused on the eyes and said nothing. He occasionally caught her gaze in the reflection as he pulled on his night clothes. A rough rubbing with a towel had his hair back to its full and tousled state. Once, as he opened his eyes wide with feigned surprise to find her still watching him, she realized the obvious physical feature that separated the Eladrin races from the Elves. His eyes were the deep blood red of wine, from corner to corner, no whites.
"Your eyes! They are like rubies!" she gasped.
Done dressing, he turned to her with a wide grin. "Why, thank you!" Astesion opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out a bag of plenty. "It's about dinnertime, let's eat,"he said. Eliza groaned. "My dear, you need to feed the baby, if nothing else. Have you been having cravings? Pickles, ice cream, dirt?" Eliza wrinkled her nose at the 'dirt' comment.
"Actually, I've been wanting a spinach salad, with sliced eggs, bacon bits, and an olive oil vinaigrette on top". Just the thought sparked her appetite.
"Sounds wonderful." And out of the bag came two large salads, each large enough to feed a family of rabbits, and complete with silverware. Astesion climbed into the bed next to her, pausing at the look she gave him. "What now, dear? Oh, I see. You stare at my bare bottom and compliment my eyes, but then freeze when I get into bed with you? Eliza, it isn't as if I can get you pregnant, right?" He winked slyly at her. "Besides, I couldn't... I wouldn't... but I should have made *you* provide dinner after you have been hitting on me!"
Eliza began to sputter, trying to come up with a retort, until Astesion distracted her by pushing a salad into her hands. She dug in, ravenous. Privately, she marveled over the amount energy her tiny baby required of her. Between bites, Astesion questioned her about the nature of her magic and the details of her journey. He seemed particularly curious about Erik vin Drako.
Later, dinner done and dishes tucked back into the bag, they made small talk. Astesion explained the difference between Planers and Primers. He told her how all the Planes circle the Spire, an infinitely tall mountain in the center of all things. He described it as a wagon wheel with each spoke being a different world. Planewalkers, like himself, can travel between them through Astral rips called portals. Eliza pondered the concept a while and then made him promise to explain it again sometime when she was more awake.
Indeed, it was getting late. The lamp oil was burning low and outside the window, the dying storm wasn't completely responsible for the dark sky.
"I should get to my room," Eliza sighed sleepily.
"Don't be foolish. You would have to go out in the weather. You can sleep here tonight."
She thought about it and decided Astesion was in the 'harmless' category of men. She sighed again and stretched out on her back, aware that he was lying on his side next to her, watching her.
"May I touch your belly," he asked out of the blue.
"Sure, but it's still flat," she responded, taken off guard by the idea that people will be wanting to feel her baby kicking. She startled when he hiked up her shirt to lay his hand on her bare belly. "Eliza, why do you jump? Who do you think changed you out of your dirty clothes and into my shirt? By the way, cute flowers embroidered on your panties," he teased mercilessly. "Whatever are you blushing about? It's just cloth."
"It's the lack... I...I wasn't wearing a bra!"
"I assume it was getting uncomfortable as your body prepares to nurse. And, dear Eliza, I was too busy struggling to your dead weight into the shirt before the doctor got here to ogle you. Sorry not to fulfill your exhibitionist fantasy."
He grinned mischievously, and she giggled in spite of her embarrassment. "No one warned me of your sense of humor."
"Really? Maybe because I don't have one except around you. I can't help but tease you." Eliza didn't know what to say to that, so she stayed silent. Astesion rubbed her belly a little. "Such an important person under my hand. Would you like to know the baby's sex?"
She already knew, but was curious how the celestial intended to divine it. "How do you intend to find out?" Astesion looked split on something for a second and then, removing his hand from where it had been comfortably resting, pulled out a long, thin chain from his pajama top. On the necklace's length hung a slender golden ring. The low lamp light glistened across the runes diamond-etched into the satin finished surface. "If I hold this ring over your belly, it will turn one way for a girl and the other for a boy."
Eliza scoffed. "An old wife's tale. And the Prophecy says it's a girl. I was hoping you would use magic." She rolled away, her back to him. In her head, her thoughts tumbled over each other. Old wife's tale. Wife. Husband. No husband. No one. A baby. No experience with babies. Being chased. Can't protect baby. Instinct say protect baby. Die to protect baby. Want to die. Want to stop running. Want to not care. Must care for baby. Must. Can't. Can't do it. Must do it. Or die. Prophecy. Can't die. Baby must live. Raise baby to be good. Failure is death to all. Must succeed. Too tired. No rest. No choice. Must do it. Alone.
"Eliza? Why are you crying, sweetness?" He hesitantly reached out to stroke her honey curls.
"I can't do it! The Fates are asking too much! I'm too young. It's not fair; I can't do alone! I wanted an adventure, but this is just too much! I can't, I just can't..." The rest was lost to sobbing in her pillow.
"Oh, Eliza, Eliza, Eliza..." Astesion pulled her into his arms. She came with little resistance, burrowing her face in his chest. "Cry, sweetheart, go ahead and get it all out." And she did, her first real emotional release since this all began. She cried out her fears and worries. She cried out the loneliness and misery. She cried and cried until all she had left was hiccups and weariness.
It was then Astesion began to speak softly in the soothing, melodic voice the Firre eladrin race is known for. "Eliza, I am an old man. I have experience with The Powers That Be. They never deal mortals a bad hand. It's only a matter of how you use what gifts you are given. And although sometimes it seems everything is stacked against you, it is only a small trial to prepare you for a true challenge. I can see this now, with ever perfect hind sight. Oh Eliza, surely you know of what glory I had once known. That's all gone now, willingly given up for a task I knew was worth it... There was only a very small chance of success..."
Astesion's voice cracked with emotion. He sighed and then continued clearly once more. "I was bitter, as you are. I thought that They had taken too much from me, but now I see... I am here, at the right place at the right time, to help a very important person. My ship and her captain are now your's to command, as I am sure the Fates intended it to be.
"As for raising your child alone, this is no great unmanageable task. Throughout time, by chance or choice, women have raised their children alone. And this isn't to say that you won't meet someone willing to help you, whether they be friend or lover. Do you not have friends who even now challenge vin Drako? He is a very dangerous and powerful man, Eliza. Even knowing that, they face him for Charles and for you, so you can have your child in safety. And you have me, my dear. I don't understand why, but I would fly to the Abyss again to protect you. Your blood sings out to me, and I can only obey it's call.
"But I have said too much... Perhaps we should sleep now," he whispered. "Sleep soundly, for though fallen I may be, you sleep in the arms of an angel tonight. No harm can come to you."
An exhausted Eliza turned her back to him once more, but this time she wrapped the eladrin's arm around her waist. He slipped the other under her head and drew her close. Eliza closed her eyes, feeling safe for the first time in months. Behind her, Astesion was already beginning to breathe evenly, content to have her soft, warm body in his embrace. And thus they fell asleep, no longer haunted by the common specters that visited them. She dreamed of pink baby dresses rather than of running in black forests, and he dreamed of long ago days of song and joy, instead of those final days of his fall into chaos and hell.
And thus they slept, spooned together and as innocently as children.
*****