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The Meeting
Sunbeams sliced through Danali's eyelids and beckoned her to awaken. A gentle wind brushed her face and sighed in her ears, a soft, melodic whisper of ancient secrets. As she slowly became conscious, more sounds and smells greeted her, deep, rich aromas infused with age and memory. She stirred, drowsily rolled onto her back, and lazily opened her eyes, bleary with sleep. The long rest had imbued her with new strength, and she raised herself up on her elbows to glance around. Her eyes took in the sun-dappled forest floor and towering mallorns surrounding the high flet she was in, and her hand flew to her mouth as she suddenly and vividly recalled the recent events that had brought her to this place. An icy fire burned her stomach, and she tasted metallic bitterness in her mouth, the copper saltiness of blood. She lifted her bandaged hand and stared at it, at the bloodied cloth tied across her palm and swallowed hard. She began to shake, and her fear-laden eyes swept quickly around the trees and flet in search of the mysterious Elves that had taken her captive. Her damaged hand swiftly came to rest on her belt, frantically seeking a throwing knife, and she gave a soft cry at finding her precious daggers gone, apparently taken by the grey-eyed Captain and his soldiers while she dreamt of stars and purple and.doors.
Danali gave another cry, this one louder, at the sudden approach of a lone Elf to her right from seemingly nowhere. Before she could spring up or utter any other sound, he had one hand gently but firmly clasped over her mouth, and the other gripping her shoulder, his upper body pressed to her back in a strange embrace. His dark green cloak swept around as he knelt behind her, lightly caressing her face and arm before settling back and draping over the Elf's back and bent legs. A faint scent of mountain snow and pine berries swirled around her as he leaned over her shoulder and spoke soothingly in her ear, his smooth voice reassuring her of her safety. She relaxed a little and nodded her head, encouraged by his kind words. He carefully removed his hand from her mouth and sat back on his heels, his hands resting on his knees. Danali spun around and faced her captor, preparing herself to fight, but her fists quickly unclenched as Rumil coolly met her gaze, remaining as he was, with a relaxed posture and a calm countenance. His eyebrows were lifted in mild surprise at her knowledge of his language, and he showed no eagerness to challenge her. Danali's shoulders sagged, and she warily settled back down and crossed her legs, her alert eyes never leaving his, searching for hidden purposes and other intentions. But she discovered none, and finally relaxed a little more, heaving a shuddery sigh as she averted her eyes from the odd yet strangely enchanting Elf who now regarded her with a critical gaze. His evergreen eyes flashed.
" Who are you and what are you doing on my flet, much less in my Lady's wood?"
Rumil's voice carried an edge of threat as he leaned toward Danali, his long golden hair slipping over his shoulders and swinging down around his somber face.
Danali trembled as she leaned back and away from the dead serious Elf who had only moments ago assured her of no harm, terrified and wondering if she truly was safe, and wondering as well who this Lady was. Her mouth drained, as did her mind, and she could only manage to stutter, " Pl-please, I did n- not know." She weakly trailed off and slid her hands behind her, struggling to keep her solidity, her balance. She glimpsed a quiver of arrows strung over his back, their snow-white shafts taunting her, and her eyes swept frantically around the Elf, searching for a longbow. Her throat closed and her breath welled up inside, churning intensely.
Rumil quickly sat back upon seeing the terror in the poor girl's chestnut eyes, and his features instantly softened. He reached over, grasped Danali's elbows and lifted her arms, his hands sliding down to hers.
"Please forgive me, lady, 'tis alright. It is only that- well, you gave me quite a scare a time ago, and- do not fear, I'm not going to harm you."
Danali raised her eyes and glanced into Rumil's strange face. His forest- struck eyes were now pleading and concerned, and Danali thought she perceived a fleeting hint of fear come and go. Her insides tightened as she finally understood what he had said.
"How did I frighten you, Master Elf?" Her voice quavered and she saw a look of bewilderment and fear cloud Rumil's face as he hesitantly related the terrifying tremors that had possessed Danali in her deathlike sleep. A cold, invisible blade slowly crept up her spine and wrenched her gut as she listened to the awful account. 'Oh, no, it happened again', she thought, and she firmly grasped the Elf's forearms and pulled him toward her in a rush of desperation.
Her stare met his puzzled one, her voice shimmered darkly as she spoke. " Forget what you saw. 'Twas nothing. Nothing at all. Speak no more of it."
Rumil's eyes flashed in disbelief as he pulled away from Danali's amazingly strong grip, and a surge of anger swelled up in him, though he was taken aback at the fire in her stare.
"Enough, lady. I meant nothing by it." He swept back away from her and rested on his knees in one fluid movement, his voice tight with suppressed anxiety. His voice pitched deeper, the tones gleaming.
" Here you come, a lady dressed as a man, with hair as short as one also, having a tendency to convulse suddenly in your sleep, frothing at the mouth like a crazed horse, scaring the very immortality out of me, and now telling me to simply forget the whole episode, then waving me off as if it matters not. Who do you think you are, besides believing yourself to be a man?"
A faint smirk wavered on Rumil's lips at this last statement, and Danali was seized with a sudden powerful desire to wipe it off. Instead, she summoned the swirls of being at her core and allowed them to float about her mind, their lucid red-gold strands calming and empowering her. But the Elf's final parting shot had seared away some self-control, and Danali couldn't resist airing certain thoughts she had had since meeting the peculiar guard.
" Well, you bear a strong resemblance to a girl, but I'm not complaining about that, am I?"
Rumil's face fell, and his eyes narrowed in annoyance, the corners of his mouth twitching as he glared venomously at the girl. But Danali was tired, as was Rumil, and the toll that the stress of the past days took on her emotions had shredded her senses and fried her reasoning. Against her better judgment, she ignored the irritation on Rumil's face and pressed on, some detached, sadistic part of her mind wishing to see how far the Elf would allow her to go.
" In fact," she sneered, "you would probably look halfway decent in a dress and none would be the wiser for it."
As soon as she said it, she regretted it. Rumil jumped to his feet, his face all of a sudden unreadable, his brow furrowed in disgust. The light in his eyes gleamed cold and bright, a fell spark of Elven anger. Danali shrank back as he took a step towards her, and she shut her eyes in fearful anticipation of a well-placed arrow, or perhaps the steely reckoning of an Elvish blade between her ribs. Several heavy seconds passed, and all was still. Danali gathered enough audacity to peer out at the motionless Elf still standing before her, and was startled to see that a weary resignation had replaced the blankness on his features. When he finally spoke, surrender crept into his barely audible voice.
"I am sorry that we had to meet this way, lady, and I offer my apologies for what I said earlier. My name is Rumil. I care not whether you give me yours."
The soft bitterness of his words pierced Danali, and she remained seated, speechless. After a short pause, he sighed, tore his gaze from her and turned away.
" Gather your things and come over here. The Guard shall be returning shortly, I hope."
Danali's eyes followed him as he disappeared around a corner, and she bit her lip in remorse as she slowly bent to comply, the Elf's icy words rushing around her, his bell-like voice resounding in her memory. She inwardly cursed at herself for her foolishness in insulting one of the Fair and Ancient as they were known at Nencoras, and felt a pang of regret for offending him.
Why do these happenings always fall upon me?
Her hands found her cloak, the elven blanket, the torn strips of cloth used as bandages for her hands. Carefully, painstakingly, she wrapped them as she wrapped her thoughts, and was surprised to find that her eyes were swimming.
Please- I didn't mean for this. Please- I'm frightened.
Her pride vanished as she admitted her fear. Her lower lip trembled. Exhaustion marched upon her being once more, and this time threatened to overwhelm her. Her thoughts became words, wrenched through with anxiety and pain.
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
She clasped her legs to her chest and rocked back and forth with anguish, her eyes and mouth clamped shut, her face buried in her knees.
"Lady?"
The soft voice flung her out of her reverie and she half looked up. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rumil approach again, bearing a worried frown on his high brow. Danali lifted her head and tried to speak to him, but the words became entangled and thorns scratched her throat instead. The tears sprang up and spilled over even as she fought to contain them, blurring her vision and freeing her heart.
Rumil knelt and placed his hand on the angst-ridden girl's shoulder. He did not say a word as she wept, her soul slowly repairing itself as the flood of tears swept away the old emotions, cleansing her stained essence and rendering the marred lifethreads silver and pure again. She did not notice when Rumil placed his hand over hers, nor when the steely-eyed March-Warden and his Guard finally reappeared on the flet as swift and silent as shadows illuminated by the sun.
The Meeting
Sunbeams sliced through Danali's eyelids and beckoned her to awaken. A gentle wind brushed her face and sighed in her ears, a soft, melodic whisper of ancient secrets. As she slowly became conscious, more sounds and smells greeted her, deep, rich aromas infused with age and memory. She stirred, drowsily rolled onto her back, and lazily opened her eyes, bleary with sleep. The long rest had imbued her with new strength, and she raised herself up on her elbows to glance around. Her eyes took in the sun-dappled forest floor and towering mallorns surrounding the high flet she was in, and her hand flew to her mouth as she suddenly and vividly recalled the recent events that had brought her to this place. An icy fire burned her stomach, and she tasted metallic bitterness in her mouth, the copper saltiness of blood. She lifted her bandaged hand and stared at it, at the bloodied cloth tied across her palm and swallowed hard. She began to shake, and her fear-laden eyes swept quickly around the trees and flet in search of the mysterious Elves that had taken her captive. Her damaged hand swiftly came to rest on her belt, frantically seeking a throwing knife, and she gave a soft cry at finding her precious daggers gone, apparently taken by the grey-eyed Captain and his soldiers while she dreamt of stars and purple and.doors.
Danali gave another cry, this one louder, at the sudden approach of a lone Elf to her right from seemingly nowhere. Before she could spring up or utter any other sound, he had one hand gently but firmly clasped over her mouth, and the other gripping her shoulder, his upper body pressed to her back in a strange embrace. His dark green cloak swept around as he knelt behind her, lightly caressing her face and arm before settling back and draping over the Elf's back and bent legs. A faint scent of mountain snow and pine berries swirled around her as he leaned over her shoulder and spoke soothingly in her ear, his smooth voice reassuring her of her safety. She relaxed a little and nodded her head, encouraged by his kind words. He carefully removed his hand from her mouth and sat back on his heels, his hands resting on his knees. Danali spun around and faced her captor, preparing herself to fight, but her fists quickly unclenched as Rumil coolly met her gaze, remaining as he was, with a relaxed posture and a calm countenance. His eyebrows were lifted in mild surprise at her knowledge of his language, and he showed no eagerness to challenge her. Danali's shoulders sagged, and she warily settled back down and crossed her legs, her alert eyes never leaving his, searching for hidden purposes and other intentions. But she discovered none, and finally relaxed a little more, heaving a shuddery sigh as she averted her eyes from the odd yet strangely enchanting Elf who now regarded her with a critical gaze. His evergreen eyes flashed.
" Who are you and what are you doing on my flet, much less in my Lady's wood?"
Rumil's voice carried an edge of threat as he leaned toward Danali, his long golden hair slipping over his shoulders and swinging down around his somber face.
Danali trembled as she leaned back and away from the dead serious Elf who had only moments ago assured her of no harm, terrified and wondering if she truly was safe, and wondering as well who this Lady was. Her mouth drained, as did her mind, and she could only manage to stutter, " Pl-please, I did n- not know." She weakly trailed off and slid her hands behind her, struggling to keep her solidity, her balance. She glimpsed a quiver of arrows strung over his back, their snow-white shafts taunting her, and her eyes swept frantically around the Elf, searching for a longbow. Her throat closed and her breath welled up inside, churning intensely.
Rumil quickly sat back upon seeing the terror in the poor girl's chestnut eyes, and his features instantly softened. He reached over, grasped Danali's elbows and lifted her arms, his hands sliding down to hers.
"Please forgive me, lady, 'tis alright. It is only that- well, you gave me quite a scare a time ago, and- do not fear, I'm not going to harm you."
Danali raised her eyes and glanced into Rumil's strange face. His forest- struck eyes were now pleading and concerned, and Danali thought she perceived a fleeting hint of fear come and go. Her insides tightened as she finally understood what he had said.
"How did I frighten you, Master Elf?" Her voice quavered and she saw a look of bewilderment and fear cloud Rumil's face as he hesitantly related the terrifying tremors that had possessed Danali in her deathlike sleep. A cold, invisible blade slowly crept up her spine and wrenched her gut as she listened to the awful account. 'Oh, no, it happened again', she thought, and she firmly grasped the Elf's forearms and pulled him toward her in a rush of desperation.
Her stare met his puzzled one, her voice shimmered darkly as she spoke. " Forget what you saw. 'Twas nothing. Nothing at all. Speak no more of it."
Rumil's eyes flashed in disbelief as he pulled away from Danali's amazingly strong grip, and a surge of anger swelled up in him, though he was taken aback at the fire in her stare.
"Enough, lady. I meant nothing by it." He swept back away from her and rested on his knees in one fluid movement, his voice tight with suppressed anxiety. His voice pitched deeper, the tones gleaming.
" Here you come, a lady dressed as a man, with hair as short as one also, having a tendency to convulse suddenly in your sleep, frothing at the mouth like a crazed horse, scaring the very immortality out of me, and now telling me to simply forget the whole episode, then waving me off as if it matters not. Who do you think you are, besides believing yourself to be a man?"
A faint smirk wavered on Rumil's lips at this last statement, and Danali was seized with a sudden powerful desire to wipe it off. Instead, she summoned the swirls of being at her core and allowed them to float about her mind, their lucid red-gold strands calming and empowering her. But the Elf's final parting shot had seared away some self-control, and Danali couldn't resist airing certain thoughts she had had since meeting the peculiar guard.
" Well, you bear a strong resemblance to a girl, but I'm not complaining about that, am I?"
Rumil's face fell, and his eyes narrowed in annoyance, the corners of his mouth twitching as he glared venomously at the girl. But Danali was tired, as was Rumil, and the toll that the stress of the past days took on her emotions had shredded her senses and fried her reasoning. Against her better judgment, she ignored the irritation on Rumil's face and pressed on, some detached, sadistic part of her mind wishing to see how far the Elf would allow her to go.
" In fact," she sneered, "you would probably look halfway decent in a dress and none would be the wiser for it."
As soon as she said it, she regretted it. Rumil jumped to his feet, his face all of a sudden unreadable, his brow furrowed in disgust. The light in his eyes gleamed cold and bright, a fell spark of Elven anger. Danali shrank back as he took a step towards her, and she shut her eyes in fearful anticipation of a well-placed arrow, or perhaps the steely reckoning of an Elvish blade between her ribs. Several heavy seconds passed, and all was still. Danali gathered enough audacity to peer out at the motionless Elf still standing before her, and was startled to see that a weary resignation had replaced the blankness on his features. When he finally spoke, surrender crept into his barely audible voice.
"I am sorry that we had to meet this way, lady, and I offer my apologies for what I said earlier. My name is Rumil. I care not whether you give me yours."
The soft bitterness of his words pierced Danali, and she remained seated, speechless. After a short pause, he sighed, tore his gaze from her and turned away.
" Gather your things and come over here. The Guard shall be returning shortly, I hope."
Danali's eyes followed him as he disappeared around a corner, and she bit her lip in remorse as she slowly bent to comply, the Elf's icy words rushing around her, his bell-like voice resounding in her memory. She inwardly cursed at herself for her foolishness in insulting one of the Fair and Ancient as they were known at Nencoras, and felt a pang of regret for offending him.
Why do these happenings always fall upon me?
Her hands found her cloak, the elven blanket, the torn strips of cloth used as bandages for her hands. Carefully, painstakingly, she wrapped them as she wrapped her thoughts, and was surprised to find that her eyes were swimming.
Please- I didn't mean for this. Please- I'm frightened.
Her pride vanished as she admitted her fear. Her lower lip trembled. Exhaustion marched upon her being once more, and this time threatened to overwhelm her. Her thoughts became words, wrenched through with anxiety and pain.
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
She clasped her legs to her chest and rocked back and forth with anguish, her eyes and mouth clamped shut, her face buried in her knees.
"Lady?"
The soft voice flung her out of her reverie and she half looked up. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rumil approach again, bearing a worried frown on his high brow. Danali lifted her head and tried to speak to him, but the words became entangled and thorns scratched her throat instead. The tears sprang up and spilled over even as she fought to contain them, blurring her vision and freeing her heart.
Rumil knelt and placed his hand on the angst-ridden girl's shoulder. He did not say a word as she wept, her soul slowly repairing itself as the flood of tears swept away the old emotions, cleansing her stained essence and rendering the marred lifethreads silver and pure again. She did not notice when Rumil placed his hand over hers, nor when the steely-eyed March-Warden and his Guard finally reappeared on the flet as swift and silent as shadows illuminated by the sun.
