Another chapter! Gosh, what is WITH me?

Vesta- Thank you, Vesta! I enjoy knowing people like my story. Feel free to review again! ^_^

In here is briefly mentioned several types of armor. For those of you who don't know them and are too lazy to look it up, here's some definitions.

Jambeaux- armor for the leg below the knee

Greaves- armor for the leg below the knee

Tuille- types of plate armor protecting the thigh

Cuisse- types of plate armor protecting the thigh

Brassard- metal armor covering the arm from elbow to shoulder.

Vambrace- metal armor protecting the forearm

Gorget- throat armor

Cuirass- metal plates protecting back and front or just front.

Please see introduction for disclaimer regarding this work.

Chapter Seventeen

…Precedes An Unexpected Amity.

Still dressed in a rumpled evening gown, Yahla quickly made her way to her own room, passing swiftly and silently through the castle halls. The room was indeed locked and she frowned contemplatively as she picked the keyhole with her claws. She knew she hadn't locked it before heading to supper. The door swung open on oiled hinges, revealing the room as she had left it. Her armor was laid out on the carpet, and the dragoness quickly stripped out of the disheveled dress, letting it drift to the floor at her feet.

She moved to don the suit of mail, but checked herself as she remembered how soiled it presently was. The goddess glanced about the room, noticing that the pile of clothes the maid had brought for her to select from had not been removed and still sat on the edge of her bed. Picking through the heap, she found the dress that had been her second choice the night before. It was white and slinky, comfortable against her skin when she slipped it on. Yahla had to do some contorting to fasten it herself, but she managed with some difficulty. The white dress lacked decoration, but was elegant in its simplicity.

Still suffering from queasiness and a virulent headache, Yahla opened the door to her room and stepped out, closing it as she passed. Though her stomach prompted her not to, she knew she needed to eat, if only to keep up energy. She was pregnant, after all. Thinking thus, the dragoness headed for the kitchen, able to locate it after but a few tries now that she was more lucid.

After the feast last night, the kitchen was scattered with leftovers of every imaginable kind. The dragoness quickly found that she was not the only one who had gravitated there. Several other guests, all looking as woozy as she, had gathered around a table with leftover bread and cheese. The dragoness made her way between the other breakfasters and grabbed a yellow wedge of cheese and half a loaf of white bread. She retreated into a corner of the kitchen, gnawing on the unfamiliar food in spite of her lack of appetite. After several minutes of forcing herself to eat, she finished off the meal.

Lacking anything better to do, Yahla returned to her room. As she locked the door behind herself, she felt suddenly exhausted and stripped out of the dress, laying it out straight on the floor and moving all of the other dresses off the bed. Then she collapsed on the blanketed mattress and spent the next few hours sleeping off her hangover.

When she finally did awake it was considerably later in the day and she was feeling significantly better. Her hours-long nap had done her a world of good, banishing the aching headache and disorientation. For once, her appetite returned as she rose and dressed, heading once more to the kitchen, this time for lunch. It would, no doubt, be leftovers again.

The pile of leftovers was still there, and all the lunch and breakfast goers had barely made a dent in it. Yahla herself selected a slab of beef and some more bread, and this time tucked in with enthusiasm, though the meal itself wasn't too appetizing. Cold meat and stale bread…how delightful…

Just as the dragoness finished her meal, there was a commotion on the other side of the kitchen, and Elena entered. As usual, the windian was bedecked in pink, this time a frilly blouse that would probably seem more suitable on a nine-year-old. Her eyes lit up when she spotted the goddess.

"Oh, good!" she exclaimed, looking on the verge of clapping her hands in joy. "Father wishes to speak to you! Are you done eating?"

Before Yahla even managed to say yea or nay, the princess dragged her off to see the king.

As Yahla set foot inside the throne room, she noticed with some surprise that one of the two guards screening the king was familiar. It was Darnik, dressed in the uniform of the guard, his fair hair hidden under a helmet. He rested a decorated spear against his shoulder, and they exchanged glances as she and the princess entered.

The king was seated on his throne, elegantly robed and crowned. He leaned forward at the sight of the two, and the princess went up to sit next to her father.

Yahla neglected to bow, but no one commented, though one of the guards frowned. She ignored him. Immortals did not bow before mortals, no matter who they were.

"Greetings, Lady Yahla," the king said, his deep voice solemn. "I apologize for not making time for you earlier. Now that we have the opportunity, I wish to discuss the repayment of our debt to your husband. Obviously, no single act will do to repay the rescue and return of our beloved princess, but is there anything we may give you in thanks? As you are the wife of the one who saved her, we will offer you anything you wish." He added, "Anything reasonable," as he saw her eyes gleam.

"I wouldst but food, soap, a map, and compass, and sundry supplies to guide mine way," the dragoness replied after a moment's thought. She saw Darnik, who had overheard everything, watching her out of the corner of her eye. "An thou canst, mine armor needs be cleansed." 'Tis to be hoped that there will be a furbisher somewhere in this place.

"A map of what, Lady Yahla?" the king inquired, smiling slightly. "I assume you are returning to the Empire?"

"Verily," she agreed, smiling sadly. She had already been too long from her home. "I wouldst return to mine husband's side. Thus, I dost require a map of the Alliance, as I knowest not the land. "

Elena's father nodded, drumming his fingers on the arm of his throne. "Very well. You will have all you have asked, though it isn't enough, personally." He frowned, as though he felt there was something else he should offer.

Elena piped up, wide-eyed and sincere as always, "If you don't know your way around the Alliance, shouldn't you also have a guide?"

"It would be wise," the king concurred with his daughter. "I'm afraid you stand out quite a bit, and unless you really wish to be noticed by the Ludians and other hostile groups you would do well to have someone along to cover for you and show you around."

"Mayhap," she conceded, after a long pause. She didn't like the idea of a human around, for many were less than reliable. "Nathless, I dost not find this idea pleasing. I be trusting not thy people, in spite of thine aid."

"Understandable, I suppose," the mortal sighed. The king turned from her when another voice in the room spoke up, an elegant voice that sat between tenor and baritone.

"Ahem, Your Majesty, I will guide the lady," Darnik said from where he stood behind the king with the other guard, for once sounding serious. His countenance matched the tone he portrayed, no smile gracing his lips.

"Grandnephew, why would you want to do such a thing?" the king asked, raising an eyebrow.

The boy shrugged, his grin returning and banishing solemnity. "Hey, I love Elena, and it was Lady Yahla's husband that saved my coz. You really surprised I want to help her out, Majesty?"

Shaking his head, the king chuckled. "No, not really." He addressed Yahla, turning to meet her gaze. "Well, Lady Yahla, it seems young Darnik has decided to accompany you. Will you accept his aid?"

She was inclined to say no…mortals were not trustworthy and she hardly needed an adolescent to complicate her journey. Yahla eyed the young man, who met her gaze steadily from under the rim of his helmet. And yet…it might prove useful to have a companion who knew the ways of the modern world. Certainly, she was lost enough when confronted with the ways of current humans. She sighed and murmured, "Very well."

Newly cleaned armor glimmered up at her as she slipped it on, cinching the girdle about her waist. She couldn't constrict it as tightly as before, and she smiled at the sign of her continuing pregnancy. She estimated she had been pregnant for around three weeks now, almost a month. Which made it little over eight month till she birthed her little dragonet. Hopefully, she would be home by then and Fou-Lu would be able to witness the first moments of their child's life.

Yahla shouldered the pack of supplies the windians had given her, and glanced one last time about the room to ensure she hadn't forgotten anything. Everything looked in place, and (somewhat reluctant to return to the wilds) she turned to exit. The sack banged against her side as she walked, filled with dry provisions and tools to aid a traveler.

Darnik was to meet her at the entrance to the castle as the light of dawn brightened into mid-morning. He would be bringing his own supplies, along with any personal items he would need. Whatever he chose to bring, Yahla hoped it would be useful, seeing as she hardly wanted to try and support him with her own supplies. She doubted what she had would last for them both.

Darnik was waiting for her at the elevator leading down into the city, a bulging rucksack hung rakishly over one arm. A spear rested on his unencumbered shoulder and he was no longer dressed as a guard, instead clad in a fighter's clothes that weren't likely to stand out in a crowd. Brown leather shirt and pants went under a steel cuirass and twin cuisses, the tough hide preventing the metal from chaffing sensitive skin. The human also wore a pair of metal brassards and a gorget of hardened leather. He sported knee-high leather boots and thick elbow-length gloves of the same substance, protection against superficial damage of the extremities. A helmet hug low over his eyes, obscuring the blue orbs and casting shadows over his face. Tufts of pale hair stuck out from under it, and Darnik grinned as he spotted her.

"Hey!" he called, falling into step at her side as they stepped onto the elevator. The platform jerked, then started to lower. "What's up?"

"I be in great haste to be on the road," she replied distractedly, paying little attention to her companion. "For mine path yet is long."

"Guess it's my path, too, now," he observed cheerfully, "Ought to be interesting, at least."

The elevator reached the ground and came to a halt with a bump and the screeching of gears. They stepped out into the town, passing houses and citizens that lined the streets. Yahla heard Darnik humming happily at her side as he kept pace, and scowled at him until he ceased. They both held the silence as they walked, and had almost reached the city gate when Darnik decided to start up a conversation.

"What type of metal is that?" he inquired curiously, tapping his spear on the ground like a walking stick. Yahla glanced down at her armor, then back up at the mortal.

Uncertain what point there was to the conversation, the goddess replied briefly, "I knowest not…For what purpose dost thou ask?"

The windian shrugged, still grinning his head off. "Well, I was just thinking, if it's iron, you could easily be defeated by a giant magnet…" He trailed off as she looked at him incredulously.

"…thou art an annoying mortal," Yahla said after an uncomfortable silence.

"I'll let you know if I see a giant magnet, okay? After all, I'm wearing armor, too. Though not as much…" He finally went quite for a moment, before asking, "Do you think being stuck to a giant magnet would hurt?"

"Hush!"

On that note, the two unlikely companions exited the city of Windia, heading west to Shyde, and, from there, the desert.