Disclaimer: I don't own the World of Two Moons. I do, however own a few of the characters in this story.
Chapter Three: What Is There Behind Eyes?
Pressing herself back into the corner, Dewshine warily regarded the man who came between herself and her attackers, and waited. She could understand him, thanks to Tyleet's lessons in the human tongue long, long before, though he spoke with the accent that had evolved in the language over the many long years. Almost unknown to her, in a far corner of her mind, she remembered how long it had been- the love she and Scouter had for each other had faded, as he eventually turned away from lovemate, and towards lifemate.
The captive did not fault him for that; she herself was more close friend than the lover to Scouter now. Neither did she blame Tyleet. The love between herself and Scouter was simply not meant to stand, and neither used the other's soulname anymore. She understood the withdrawal, and accepted it.
Dewshine waited as the man sent the other two out of the room. With his hands propped up on his hips, she could almost imagine his scowl, though his back was towards her. As the door swung shut behind the pair of angry humans, the elf's rescuer turned towards her. "I am sorry for all this," he said. Dewshine drew in a breath sharply as he told her this in her own language and waved a hand at her chains and the bare room. The man took a ring of keys from his wide belt, and beckoned to the prisoner. "Come. At least you need not be tied, though..." he trailed off and a shadow crossed his face.
The Wolfrider eyed him. With troll sword, knife, bow or spear she would not have been afraid, but she was small, delicate and not in the least skilled at hand-to-hand combat. She edged slowly out of the shadows, and held out her shackled arms, almost timidly. He carefully released her. In a lightning-fast movement she snatched the keys and raced towards the door. The man spun as she tried the first of several keys in the lock of the door, but she found it bolted from the outside.
Still the man made no move to stop her, but only waited as she tried them all as she had seen Skywise do in the first battle for the palace, implacable. When she had tried unsuccessfully to open the door with each of the small mettle pieces he sighed and advanced on her. Dewshine dropped the ring of keys and backed towards the wall at a right angle to the left of the door. The man merely picked up the bunch of keys and glanced at her once before calling through the door to open and shut the door swiftly.
Then he was gone. Dewshine sagged one the floor, her knees to her chest, her arms wrapped around them, set in the corner of the room. In the mans' eyes she had seen a mix of emotions that had been so unusual she was disconcerted.
In his gray eyes she had seen no anger or exasperation. The elf had detected sorrow, pain from a time long past, pity...
and strangest of all- longing, and passionate love.
000
The captive elf spent the night in a doze of thought. What was it about her that had made the man's eyes reflect such tender love? He had seemed nice, for a human, she thought. Dewshine was awakened from her light sleep by the door swinging open- she tensed into a position she could break into an all-out dash from, preparing to either fight her way out or slip out silently, or to defend herself if it was the two men that the love-eyed one had sent flying the day before.
She didn't get a chance to flee, but as she sagged in defeat, she saw it was her last visitor, and stood tall with her chin raised slightly, waiting for him to speak. The elf knew she was no commanding figure as the Djun who had stolen the shards of the palace had been; on a human she would be about as high as a ribcage, but she wanted to at least not appear wretched and terrified.
Clearly, the Love-Eyed Man, for she knew him by no other name, was startled by the change from frightened, prisoner elf-maiden to defiant, weaponless forest queen. He bore a large tray easily in one hand; Dewshine identified its contents as food by scent and glanced up at the man, who also held a light, small table under the other arm. He spoke in her language as he had the day before. "I thought you might be hungry. As far as I can tell, you have had nothing since at least yesterday morning, when they-" he stopped, then went on. "Actually, I brought enough for two. Perhaps we can eat together?"
This last was hesitantly, almost shyly, asked, and though the phrasing indicated some choice, the elf thought that she really had little power in the matter. Both knew that he was trying to be courteous and friendly. Dewshine nodded, her blue eyes betraying nothing save a wary regard for the human. Elf maiden and human sat slowly, and the man swung the table lightly out between them; at this, the Wolfrider nearly tensed, then eased as he set the try down on the dark wood table.
Dewshine stayed ready for anything throughout the large meal, which included several types of deliceous fruits. She tried to be neat as she studied the Love-Eyed Man.
Clearly she was at least three or four times his age, though, she now noted, they were proportionately the same age, in terms of life-spans; about middle-aged, though the Love-Eyed Man was a little older seeming. His black hair was rather messy, but did not seem disorganized; his clothes were plain tan, his eyes gray, his nose a proud arch and he was athletic with strong but not bulky muscles. When he had come in she had noted both his knee-high boots, tucked under his pants, and his lack of weapons or decorations. He seemed a little like the man who had been befriended by Ember's part of the Wolfriders, Lr-gran, or maybe Leh-regihn. Finally, the man broke the silence, still in the elf tongue. "I'm Bretch." he told her. "What's your name?"
The Wolfrider replied in his language in turn. Since there was no term for her name in the human words, she said "I am Shining Dew. But in my speech," Dewshine said, then switched to her own language, "Dewshine." The Love-Eyed Man -Bretch- started as she spoke in his own tongue, then relaxed with a crooked smile.
"Shining Dew." he repeated in human, then in elven, he said "Dewshine."
"Yes... Bretch." the elf said with a slight smile of her own in his language, then returned to the lovely fruit she was nibbling. Though she pretended not to, she did see the look of softness, pity, love, longing and sorrow that came into his face. Then it was gone.
