It was sunup.
The birds were chirping, the grass was sparkling, the dawn was breaking, the dragons were standing quite a ways outside the window…
Jarsha bolted upright from his reverie. Sure enough, there were Iganì and Crimson Flame, looking somewhat smug and definitely pleased with themselves. He couldn't begin to figure out why – the only thing he could see was Angela, standing between them.
Jarsha smacked his head. The herbalist! How could he not have noticed her? She had disappeared eventually, but in the hubbub that had followed no one was sure where, though they knew she must have been in Surda on account of Solembum, who was now sitting calmly at her heels. The dragons' appearance right outside his window – his, mind you, and not Milda's – must have had something to do with it. She was an accomplished witch, and therefore attracted to magic. What Milda and Nanette had learned so far in the ancient language would have to evolve for quite a while before they reached the same level as Angela.
As Jarsha, now fully awake, jumped out of bed and prepared himself to vault out the window, he was stopped. Angela, drawing near with the dragons flanking her and the werecat still at her heels, had a secretive smile on her face.
Oh, so that explained it. Iganì and Crimson Flame looked smug because they were pleased (in a kind of nasty way) after recounting what had happened to Angela. The herbalist, who was anything but normal, gave him a feral grin, her eyes slanted and the tips of her lips reaching almost to her ears.
"So. I heard about what happened two days ago from the dragons here," Angela began, the crafty look still on her face as she reached downward and patted Crimson Flame's side. The young dragon looked up at her, his large amber eyes wide and taking everything in – apparently he wasn't aware of the fact that he was much too short to see Jarsha on the other side of the house. Hmph. So much for a dragon who, just a few days ago, had been flying without any of the problems you'd expect a hatchling to have. "And I like juicy things when I hear them," Angela went on, her grin widening.
"How were you able to hear them?" Jarsha queried curiously.
Iganì showed her teeth, evidently angry by his remark. Because, her voice appeared in his head, we dragons are not idiots. We can freely communicate with those who we wish to, when we wish to. She snorted, a puff of smoke rising from her nostrils. Remember this, young human.
Jarsha grinned and turned back to Angela. "What do you think of it, Angela svit-kona?" he asked, masking his voice and using a honorific from the ancient language he'd learned that was used on women of great wisdom.
In response, Angela rolled her eyes, the grin disappearing from her face, and, since she couldn't poke him in the stomach with the barrier of the window between them, settled for a derisive, sarcastic glare. "You have a loose grip on the ancient language," she observed, shaking her head of enormous hair. "Svit-kona is used for ELF women, not humans." Her glower became piercing. "Not to mention, honorific from the ancient language shouldn't be bandied about as if they were a child's playthings. I like being a human while I can, and especially a witch at that."
Jarsha grinned and cocked his head to the side. That was pure Angela for you, all right. "Anyhow," he began, choosing his words carefully, "what thoughts have you on this whole matter?"
Angela raised an eyebrow, matching his everyday grin with her feral one, which quickly reappeared with his remark. "What thoughts have I?" She dignifiedly tossed her head, causing that mop of curly hair to bounce up and down once again. "What thoughts have I?" She surveyed him through regal eyes. "I think teenagers are too young and immature for love."
That's adolescence, Angela, Iganì cut in, projecting her thoughts to the minds of the herbalist, Jarsha, and for some reason Crimson Flame. Human teenagers are quite queer in their own right; I guess being a short-lived race does that to you. I've never seen the strangeness of adolescents in a dwarf before.
"That's because you've never seen a dwarf." Raising one eyebrow as she ran a hand down Iganì's shining violet scales, Angela turned back to Jarsha. "Also, just so you know, I was eighteen when I had my first kiss."
"With who?" Jarsha asked interestedly. "Jeod?"
He'd heard of the merchant-turned-Varden-supporter and was quite interested to know more on his subject. After all, he and Angela had both lived in Teirm together; perhaps they had had a relationship at one point? But, nay, and the expression of shock on his face when Angela uttered the next six words was understandable:
"No," she said simply, "Jeod was with Helen then."
"So who was it, then?" Jarsha persisted.
"As if I had even the slightest desire to tell you." She gave him another one of those roguish, feral grins. "Nay, it wasn't Jeod. Back then, we were both young; he hadn't met his would-be wife yet. His name was Svart."
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"Svart?" Jarsha observed Angela keenly, wondering what was going on in her mind. "Who was he?"
Angela smiled. "A man," she replied.
"And what happened between you?" A grin appeared and expanded on Jarsha's face. "Eighteen years old can still be considered adolescence, you know."
"Quiet, Jarsha, before I give you a swat that's more than playful." Angela's eyes slit, feral once more, though still mischievous. "No – for your information, we were just lovers. Lovers, foolish and young. On his part, that is. I – well, I considered myself quite intelligent at the time."
"Yes, but did he think the same?" Jarsha smirked, satisfied, deciding instantaneously to fight fire with fire. "Teenagers can be – ah – quite 'queer,' you know."
"And should I believe you why?" asked Angela teasingly, though there was a wistful look in her eye. "Because you say so?"
Jarsha wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Come on, Angela," he went on impatiently, "you know you want to tell me."
"Again, just because you tell me to doesn't mean I have to." Angela fixed him with a stern, commanding, look before quickly relenting. "All right, then. Svart considered me a bizarre yet decent person." She drew herself proudly to her full height. "I was happy at the time since I didn't have enchant him for anything. Not that I would have, of course, but I was pleased that we got along extremely well together and our relationship wasn't explosive, like some couples'." Cheerfully, she went on, the pleased note clear in her voice. "We split up eventually, but now we still drop in on each other from time to time."
Jarsha brooded on her words, finally resurfacing with a question on his tongue. "Angela, did you hear about those young Riders like Milda are going to come train here for a while?"
"Yes, I did." Angela nodded. "Slakk and Arget, Tosaën and Ferondal. They're coming later today."
"I wonder what they're like?" mused Jarsha.
Angela grinned. "Different," she said.