The Enemy

[Lady_Gamer]

Since childhood, Sairalindë Annárë had been taught to regard all humans as hostile.

As an ambitious breed, humans were simply too dangerous to not be killed on sight. Their kind had ruled the land for hundreds of years, and worked tirelessly to convert the last of Sairalindë's kind to their own will. Any elves that existed the human society were little more than slaves.

Sairalindë couldn't let that happen to her. She was raised among what the humans referred to as "savages" - that is, the few remaining groups that refused to submit to the dominant society of their continent. The elves among this group had little choice but to make alliances with the "undesirables", such as the trolls and ogres. They were unsightly, sure - but they were also powerful. The elves tolerated the behavior of these crude creatures only to avoid a more severe fate that would be given to them by the humans.

The woman was considered young by her own kind - not quite a hundred years in age - and was proving herself to be quite talented in holy magic. Most elves of this status knew better than to venture outside of camp without someone to protect them, but...Sairalindë? She was a little too confident in her own ability to defend herself.

Her intentions were innocent enough. She left camp in search of a flower that could be used to alleviate pain for those that were suffering serious wounds. Her quest took her far from her own camp and led her to danger that was beyond her abilities to handle.

The elf found herself in the company of two highway men - humans. They made several lewd remarks about what they would do to her, but Sairalindë did not understand their tongue. She could tell by their tone that they did not mean her well. As they closed in on the helpless elf, the young woman took several steps backwards. The men seemed to find this amusing and heartily babbled more taunts in their foreign language.

It was then that he appeared. A man in full plate, riding a warhorse. His head was covered by a helmet but the elf would know well enough that it would be a human underneath. He wore the colors of the enemy.

Apparently these men were as much his adversary as they were hers. The supposed knight would dismount his horse before challenging the men to arms. The scene unfolded so quickly before Sairalindë that she barely witnessed it. Next thing that she knew, the highway men were left bleeding out on the ground, dead or dying. She would life her gaze from their bodies to see the armored man approaching her at a calm, steady pace. He held his bloodied sword in hand.

Sairalindë's chest heaved as she took a staggered breaths. He was the enemy, no doubt he would dispatch her as quickly as he had...them. A single step backward put the elven woman against a tree. She was too terrified to take her eyes off of the approaching knight, who was now only a few paces away from her.

Her emerald eyes were set on the man's helmet. He was nearly foot taller than her - and she was tall for her kind. She was 5'5" and had the usual elven traits; a slender form, graceful features, and - of course - long, pointed ears. Her hair had a soft curl to it and reached just past her breasts. It was a rich color that would be best compared to bronze. She wore a long white robe that had been beautifully embroidered with silver and golden thread - considering her holy rank, it fit to her curves a little more than would be expected.

----

(OOC: If you are interested in joining the story as a human or elf, please pm me with your first post. Thanks!)

 

[GomerFox]

The knight saw his quary and spurred his horse forward toward them.

They were fools, having chosen to sport with an elf rather than keep their guard.

For that, they would be captured, or die. It didn't matter, as the bounty was for them alive or dead.

Alive was prefered, but dead paid too.

The valley was horrible terrain for the men to run from him. His armor didn't slow him down all that much on foot, and should they run, he could run them down afoot or by horse.

He closed with them, and ordered them to yeild...with the predictable result of them refusing.

No. Why should it be easy?

He had better things to do than dispatch highway robbers.

He had disputes of his men to settle, a serf who needed his approval for a new crop and a barmaid who was a bad girl that needed to know why he was the master and she the slave...

He dismounted his horse, drawing his sword. The blade rested easily in his hands as he strode toward the men.

The fight was a blur.

The one on the left lunged low and he stepped into it, blocking the blade with his own, then catching the man with the pommel of his sword in the chin knocking him senseless.

Which was when the other one attacked thrusting high at his back. He shifted a small step forward toward the man he had just knocked to the ground, raised his sword so the point was pointed at the second man and extended his arm.

The sword met the man's throat, and once more proved that steel was more potent than a man's throat. His head flopped to the ground, severed from his body.

He stood over the first man and said "You idiots. I have more important things to do in my life than deal with a pair of sheep-fucking cattle thieves. I could bring you in and get the full price for you, but quite frankly, I'd get stuck for half a day hearing the case against you for stealing a cow, then ordering you hung, then overseeing it.
I want you to know I'm not killing you because I hate thieves, or because my serfs will want justice done."

The knight paused for a moment to take a breath.

Resuming, he said "I'm killing you because I have better things to do that deal with your dumb ass, and because I've had better sword fights from my sister's youngest daughter than I got from both of you."

With that, the blade fell and the head rolled.

The knight sighed.

Job done. It was cold, it looked like rain, he was hungry and could use a bed filled with down pillows and a bar-maid named Veronica.

What he had in front of him though, was an elf.
High Born from the looks of her.

Well. This was just great.

The elves were a dangerous bunch, and none more dangerous than when cornered...and she looked like she was frightened to death.

He knew what the smart thing would be to do. To kill her before she cast a spell, then ride like hell to get out of the area.

He also knew that if he did that, it would be a terrible mistake, so he did the stupid thing - he shook the blood from his sword and sheathed it in one fluid motion, and stood very still, then raised his hands.

He spoke a little elvish, and spent a few moments trying to form the words for "I mean you no harm"

He removed his helmet, revealing a tanned, short haired face with stubble on it, and looked at her again.

She was stunning, and looking at him.

Well, his accent for elvish was southern and this was far from the south, and he was probably going to fuck this up, but he spoke in elvish, "I mean you no harm."

At least, that's what he hoped he said.

 

[Lady_Gamer]

An expression of mild confusion overcame Sairalindë as the man sheathed his sword. Was he so convinced of his superiority that he was going to try to kill her with his bare hands? How stupid would a human have to be to try that against anyone that knew magic?

It wasn't until the man started to remove his helmet that young elf considered the possibility that he wasn't going to act aggressively towards her. This was at least as unsettling, though. What if he didn't want to maim her just so that he could fetch a better price for her at market? She suddenly realized that she would have to be the one to bring the chance meeting to an abrupt end.

Sairalindë studied the face of the man, trying to appear calm. Her heart was racing - she had never seen a human before, much less had the opportunity to kill one. It was then that he spoke.

The shock at hearing elvish from his lips was unmeasurable. It was ill spoken, and perhaps even a little difficult to understand, but Sairalindë seemed to get the general message. She took several moments to respond.

"Spare me the lies, human. I will not fall for your tricks." The young elf knew this would be an opportune time to attack, but for some reason she hesitated.

 

[GomerFox]

"Shit. I don't speak elvish that well. What the hell did she just say?" he thought.

He thought for a moment about the words she spoke...he knew she was pissed off, but...OK...lies...human...something 'not' and 'me'.

Oh, got it. She said "Human...not lie to me." Maybe...

He said in halting elvish "Slowly. No speak fast."

She was very beautiful, but what captivated him was her eyes. They weren't any one color, but many as the fading sun hit them.

He hoped it wasn't the beginning of a spell...

Thunder cracked across the sky suddenly. He dam near jumped out of his skin, and so did the elf. It took every bit of discipline not to draw and cut her down, as he was so primed for her magic, his heart raced and his blood sang in his ears.

Rain threatened. He backed up to his horse and retrieved his cloak and blanket.

He offered the blanket to her with an outstretched arm and a nod of his head toward the sky.

"Rain. Cold." he said in elvish.

"Need?" he asked in elvish, holding out the embroidered cloth. Ironically, it was of elvin manufacture. Old, worn, but clean and in good condition...and water resistant.

 

[Lady_Gamer]

What was this? Sairalindë glanced at the blanket with a suspicious demeanor. Here was a human - speaking elven to the best of his ability - who happened to carry elven crafted goods. He had to be a slave holder or warmonger of sorts.

His eyes, though; looking in to them, the elf could not sense malice. She studied him for a few more moments in silence. She felt a sudden blush overcome her face as she realized that she found this man attractive. This was just the sort of thing that her Elders had not warned her against; humans had always been described to her as hideous beings. She had wrongly assumed that their evil souls would be reflected in their flesh.

She wanted to run. But he had a horse, and who could tell what he would do if he knew she thought herself to be at a disadvantage? Eventually, the young elf would reach out to take the blanket.

She typically had manners, but in this instance she did not thank the man. She kept her eyes on him as she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.

"How is it that you know my language?" she asked slowly. Her heart was still racing.

 

[GomerFox]

"How is it that you know my language?" she asked slowly. Her heart was still racing.

The rain began to fall. First it was droplets, then it slowly became a torrent.

It was cold, and the wind blew it sideways.

She spoke a question, but he did not understand it, so he said in elvish "No" as he gestured to his ear, then his mouth.

He then said in elvish "No good" and repeated the gesture.

He indicated to his horse and said with a question in his tone "Ride?"

Over the thunder and the wind, he heard it just then...hoves.

He looked south. 8 of them, mounted and riding hard toward him and the elf.

Yup...those were the rest of the bandits.

"Shit" he spoke crisply, in his own tounge. He pointed at the riders.

He looked at them, then at the elf and pointed at the riders as he got on his horse.

"Many. Bad. Death. Come?" he spoke in elvish, and reached out his hand to her.

His warhorse stomped and snorted. The horse, trained from birth to be a knight's companion and fight at his side, was eager for the kill. It could stomp, ram and bite in coordination with it's rider.

Sir Gavin de Rochfort read the beast's movements.

It wanted to fight or flee.

He looked at the woman and said again, "Come?"

If she did not take his hand in a few seconds, he would not have time to escape and would have to fight.

He was armored, and while it didn't slow him down much, on the mud, it would be enought to be fatal.

2 were not a chalange. 4 would have been taxing...8? Nope. Sorry. Not dying like a hero today...

She would have to decide now...

 

[Lady_Gamer]

Sairalindë wouldn't be foolish enough to trust a human.

Current circumstances, however, convinced her that she had little choice. The knight was correct - the number of approaching men would guarantee her death (or worse) if she stayed. Without hesitation she would take the human's hand and allow him to help her on to the back of the warhorse. She would have to pull the bottom hem of her robe up to her knees to allow her to ride properly. As she adjusted herself, she found that the human was in a hurry to get the hell out; the sudden movement of the horse caused the young elf to give a startled cry. She reached forward, wrapping her arms around the man's waist so as not to fall off. The metal armor was cold, and slick from the rain.

After the initial take-off, Sairalindë seemed secure enough to not have to hold the man so tightly. She used one arm to keep herself steady, leaving it around the man in front of her - the other was used to pull the blanket up over her head; she grasped the fabric under her chin, gaining a make-shift hood out of the deal. She glanced back briefly, wondering when - and if - she would be able to return to her camp. What had she gotten herself in to?

 

[GomerFox]

The woman on his horse behind him, he rode like the devil...or at least the brigands, pursued.

It wasn't much of a contest. His horse was breed for battle, theirs were a collection of working breeds stolen from farms.

But one of them kept up. His horse was another war-steed, and he was gaining.

Sir Gavin grabbed his bow and turned his mount, slowing the mount with motions of his leg. The horse slowed to a trot and he notched an arrow, drew back and let it fly at the charging mount.

The moment the arrow departed he spurred his mount onward out of the way.

The arrow missed barely...but apparently the man pursuing had enough and wasn't as brave as he was minutes ago. He turned away and retreated back to his fellows.

Sir Gavin thought "Oh, why not..." and notched another arrow, aimed high and let it fly.

BO-YAH.

The man fell from the horse, and the horse, it's reigns on the ground, stood still.

He approached the mount, and keeping an eye toward the man's fellows, he grabbed the reigns.

He pointed to the horse and said to the elvish woman "Sit". She dismounted his horse and mounted the War Horse.

It was a massive, fine beast. A fighter, but well controllable. It barely noticed the weight of the woman sitting on it. He looked at her, nodded, and handed her the reigns.

He looked around.

All was quiet. He eyed her, backed his horse to the rear, then rode away.

 

[Lady_Gamer]

"..."

Sairalindë was confused, to say the least. It was now obvious that he had no interest in holding her captive, which had been the only motivation she could come up for him not cutting her down on sight. It didn't make any sense.

Surely the Elders were not mistaken in their teachings. Maybe this one was just an exception to the rule? It was the first time she had any reason to doubt what she had been told about the world outside of her camp.

Camp. Her absence would no doubt be noticed. Sairalindë glanced back in that direction - even if the bandits did try to come back around to start a fight, it seemed that this fine horse could outrun them. And if they followed her long enough, they would no doubt be greeted by the watch towers.

But the young elf's eyes were drawn back to the human that was riding away from her.

"Wait!" She called out to him, urging her horse to catch up.

The elf would ride up along-side the man, turning her upper body to face him. "Thank you." She paused for a few moments before raising her hand above her chest, placing her palm directly below her neckline. "Sairalindë," she spoke softly. She thought for a moment before making it easier for the human to pronounce, "Saira."

 

[GomerFox]

"Wait!" She called out to him, urging her horse to catch up.

The elf would ride up along-side the man, turning her upper body to face him. "Thank you." She paused for a few moments before raising her hand above her chest, placing her palm directly below her neckline. "Sairalindë," she spoke softly. She thought for a moment before making it easier for the human to pronounce, "Saira."

He heard her coming up behind him and tensed.

Elves were not to be trusted. The border wars centuries ago were a harsh, brutal affair with no quarter given on either side.

Some few elves were taken as slaves after battles...most were not. Such was fortune.

Those he had come in contact with in his lands were traders, mercenaries and adventurers...and all were dangerous, sly and cunning creatures.

Hate ran deep on both sides of the war, and with elves living forever, it appeared many of them were not ready to forgive.

He had no issue with elves personally...just when they tried to slit his throat, take his soul and his money...

The woman introduced herself.

Her hand rested on her breasts. Nice ones, but unfortunatly constrained by clothing.

He nodded at her name, then said "Gavin" as he tapped his chest.

They rode on, away from the elvin lands border.

He wondered why she was coming with him, but could not put it into words. Yes, he had saved her - he would do so for anyone. It was his duty, and had been such since the day he recieved his knighthood at 14 years old.

She could return to her people...why did she stay?

He spoke in elvish "Why?"

 

[Lady_Gamer]

Why? Sairalindë had to consider for several moments before responding.

"I am young and know little of the world," she started to explain. She wondered how much Gavin would understand of what she had said - perhaps she should try to limit her speech for easier translation.

She looked over at the man before her next attempt. The elf indicated her eyes, "I see camp." She made a motion across her eyes as if to strike them out. "Blind to world."

She had so many things she could say - it was difficult for her to think of how to express it all without speaking in terms that would be difficult to understand. She paused.

"Gavin..." she started. She couldn't even to begin to tell him how their chance meeting had given her reason to doubt the teachings of her Elders. She couldn't place why she was so curious in him, either.

"You interest me."

 

[GomerFox]

Language was a problem.

He caught little of her words, but the intent was clear - she was curious and wanted to stay with him.


He thought, closed his eyes and spoke in elvish these words he learned from an elvish priest years ago in the south "The world is often not as the elders say it is. The war was ugly, the blood of the slain still soaks the land of both, and doth not yield to time without effort. Will you make the effort?"

He did not know it, but the words were a quote of those spoken by the Elvin king 5 centuries after the border wars, just about the time the elves began to venture back into the world, 200 years before the current time.

The sentiment was not the most popular one in Elvin lands. 700 years was not the time to Elves as it was to Humans; still...trade had begun and people traveled...

Her expression was shocked, and he continued in broken elvish, "Human. Not...mule" he said tapping his head.

They rode on.

 

[Lady_Gamer]

Sairalindë stared at the man in shock. His words; they must have originated from an elf - he didn't speak the language well enough to compose something like that. The way that he closed his eyes as he spoke, he was obviously recalling something from memory. It was a quote she had never heard before.

Her expression slowly changed from one of astonishment to somber reflection. She did not verbally respond to the man's words.

"Will you make the effort?" Echoed within her mind. Would she? Could she? The hate that her fellow elves had for humans was, in most cases, fueled from some experience in the wars. Who was she to try to tell them to forgive? Or, much less, expect them to understand if she did not share their intense hatred? She expected something like that would be grounds for being considered a traitor.

In any case, she found herself wanting to know more. She looked over at Gavin and studied him for several moments, suddenly regretting that she could not speak his language. She pointed in the general direction that they were heading.

"How far?" She asked.

 

[GomerFox]

In any case, she found herself wanting to know more. She looked over at Gavin and studied him for several moments, suddenly regretting that she could not speak his language. She pointed in the general direction that they were heading.

"How far?" She asked.

"3 days ride" he responded. Holding up his hand indicating the number.

She nodded and they rode on till the evening when they made camp. His bow harvested dinner of rabbits and they were roasted over a small fire.

He tended the horses and fed them, then drank from his skin of wine, as nobody should travel without wine, as he lay down by the fire.

He offered the wine skin to her.

 

[Lady_Gamer]

The elf considered the wine skin for several moments before accepting it. She had been sitting across the fire from the man and had to move herself closer to get within reach.

Sairalindë took the wine skin and would sit before taking a deep draft. Afterwards, she handed it back to Gavin, not wanting to diminish his supply. She was pretty certain he had said their trip would be three days.

The elf glanced over at the man, watching as the fire caused light and shadow to dance over his features. It made it easy to see the details of his face - details that were human. Sairalindë couldn't help but see the man as exotic.

The elf suddenly realized that her subject was aware of how intently she was taking in his image. Her eyes met his; she blushed only slightly as she gave him a small smile.

 

[GomerFox]

The elf considered the wine skin for several moments before accepting it. She had been sitting across the fire from the man and had to move herself closer to get within reach.

Sairalindë took the wine skin and would sit before taking a deep draft. Afterwards, she handed it back to Gavin, not wanting to diminish his supply. She was pretty certain he had said their trip would be three days.

The elf glanced over at the man, watching as the fire caused light and shadow to dance over his features. It made it easy to see the details of his face - details that were human. Sairalindë couldn't help but see the man as exotic.

The elf suddenly realized that her subject was aware of how intently she was taking in his image. Her eyes met his; she blushed only slightly as she gave him a small smile.

The fire burned low, and he rested.

Not sleeping yet, he looked at her in they dim, dying light.

Her features were alive in the shifting light. Her eyes danced in the flames, almost as if the fire danced for her. Her hair caught the light and it reflected subtle colors of gold and red and amber and blue...just out of his perception, but their.

The wind and the smoke seemed to sing as it passed by.

She starred at him intently. He felt frightened a bit. And excited...

She drank the wine, then returned it to him. He took a sip and it exploded on his tongue like the finest vintage decanted properly instead of wine traveling in a skin...

He swallowed nervously, then said in elvish "Sleep."

With that, he pulled the cloak tight around him and closed his eyes.

 

[Lady_Gamer]

Sairalindë didn't reject the idea of sleep but she sat up for a while and watched the fire as it died.

It wasn't long before it was reduced to glowing embers, prompting the young elf to stand and retrieve the blanket she had been borrowed earlier - she had left it on the other side of the fire. She picked it up and shook the dirt off gently as she glanced over to see if the human was still awake. He appeared to be sleeping.

She wrapped the blanket around herself and laid on the opposite side of the fire from Gavin.

Considering the circumstances, Sairalindë fell asleep easily.

 

[Lady_Gamer]

A few hours later, the elf was awakened by a noise. She opened her eyes and sat up, looking to see what had caused the disturbance. She saw nothing. The woman sat quietly for a few moments, listening and watching. Not being able to discover the source of whatever had woken her was quite unsettling. She looked over at the human - he was still sleeping. The elf had to consider that something from within a dream woke her but couldn't be certain. It seemed real.

Sairalindë gathered her blanket and stood, uneasily looking around. Everything seemed quiet and peaceful. Silently, the young elf relocated herself to the other side of the fire. She laid down several feet away from the human. If something were to suddenly come upon them, at least she would be able to wake him. It made her feel a little better, but it still took her a while to fall back asleep.

It was early morning when the elf woke again. She opened her eyes slowly and took several moments to recall where she was. It was then that she realized that her head was resting on Gavin's chest, with one arm draped over his torso.

Sairalindë's first thought was to look up at the human's face. If he wasn't yet awake, perhaps she could extract herself without too much awkwardness.

 

[GomerFox]

Gavin woke without moving.

He became aware of someone resting on his chest. At first he thought "This is nice..." but that quickly became "What happened? I wasn't that drunk..."

Whoever it was, she smelled nice, wasn't too heavy and was very warm.

He felt her move and he opened his eyes, and to his shock, it was the elf!

He looked into her eyes from a foot away. Her eyes in the sunlight were a riot of colors, and her face shined like a full moon. He looked past her face and saw all their clothing was still on, to his relief and dismay.

Relief that he didn't do anything he didn't remember...and dismay that they hadn't done things they shouldn't have.

They stared at each other, barely moving, hardly breathing...

 

[Lady_Gamer]

"I..." Sairalindë began, but stopped when she realized there was no way she could communicate the circumstances through their language barrier. She looked into his eyes for several moments, unmoving and uncertain.

As she studied his face, the elf was suddenly overwhelmed with lustful thoughts. The human wasn't pushing her off or reacting in a way that would suggest that he wasn't interested - but that wouldn't make it right, would it? Everything she had been taught...humans were repulsive and should be killed on sight.

But Gavin wasn't repulsive - he was entirely on the other end of the spectrum. And Sairalindë didn't attempt to kill him on sight; she was following him to the outside world. Surely, she was already a traitor to her kind.

The woman tried to push back the thoughts of how horrible she was, instead focusing on her attention on the human. She slowly moved herself, her body remaining in contact with Gavin as she brought her eyes to the same level as his. She hesitated only slightly before gently touching her lips to his.

 

[GomerFox]

The woman tried to push back the thoughts of how horrible she was, instead focusing on her attention on the human. She slowly moved herself, her body remaining in contact with Gavin as she brought her eyes to the same level as his. She hesitated only slightly before gently touching her lips to his.

Her lips touched his in a quiet explosion of power.

It surged into him and through him like a tidal wave crashing against the rocks, and as softly as the summer breeze...

Her eyes, locked onto his held promise and lust and glowed like the sun.

He responded, moving his lips into hers, his hand coming up to brush her face, barely touching it.

 

[Lady_Gamer]

The elf felt suddenly light-headed. The sensation of the man's lips, of his fingertips barely grazing her cheek; her body's response was immediate and intense.

Sairalindë's face flushed slightly. Despite the contact being minimal, it affected the woman greatly. She reached a hand to the back of the man's head, combing her fingers in to his hair. Her kiss became more passionate, slipping her tongue past the human's lips.

Her breasts brushed against him and the fabric of her robe did nothing to conceal the hardening of her nipples. She felt an eagerness for the man that she could not repress.

The woman soon found herself climbing on top of Gavin, straddling his hips as she continued to kiss him. Her robe slipped up her thighs to accommodate the position, leaving only Sairalindë's panties and the human's clothing separating the two from true contact. The elf rubbed herself against him desirously.

Sairalindë would withdraw from the kiss, pulling her face only inches away from the man's. Her hand would trail from the back of his head to his chest.

"Gavin..." she would say breathlessly. She paused for a moment, again considering language a problem.

"Want?" she asked.

 

[GomerFox]

Her breasts brushed against him and the fabric of her robe did nothing to conceal the hardening of her nipples. She felt an eagerness for the man that she could not repress.

The woman soon found herself climbing on top of Gavin, straddling his hips as she continued to kiss him. Her robe slipped up her thighs to accommodate the position, leaving only Sairalindë's panties and the human's clothing separating the two from true contact. The elf rubbed herself against him desirously.

Sairalindë would withdraw from the kiss, pulling her face only inches away from the man's. Her hand would trail from the back of his head to his chest.

"Gavin..." she would say breathlessly. She paused for a moment, again considering language a problem.

"Want?" she asked.

She was on fire as she rubbed herself against him, and in turn he moved his hands down her backlightly scratching as we went. She pressed herself against him harder and soon her clothing slipped up, and his hands found her rear.

He grasped her rear and squeezed as she looked at him and said "Want?"

He nodded and kissed her...

Then he heard it. The snap of a twig under a person's foot.

Suddenly, all hell broke loose. The brigands. They were back.

Two grabbed the Elf, as the rest attempted to kill Gavin.

Gavin rose to his knees, drew his dagger lefthanded and ducked under the first man's swing, then thrust into his groin and pulled out the dagger in a torrent of blood. The man went down screaming, but died quickly.

Two men grabbed him, each on his arms and the third draw back to strike him. Gavin stepped back with his left side, twisted his left arm in a circle and broke the man's grip on his arm, then parried the sword coming at him with the dagger into the man on his right arm.

That man took the thrust lightly but jumped back and looked up...only to see Gavin's cut which severed his head from his shoulders leaving him to see the sky forever...

Gavin turned to see the men struggling with Saira. Then he saw why men feared the Elves. Saira was enraged. She was obviously young, and half both the men's size, but she was in a furry.

She had raked one of the men's faces with her nails and her eyes positively glowed with denied lust and anger.

Without thinking he threw the dagger at the closer man's back. It landed with a meaty thud and he fell. Without him holding onto her, she savaged the reamining man with a singleminded ruthlessness that, had she been a warrior, would have torn him to ribbons in a flash.

Then the two remaining men came at him.

Unlike the first men he slew the day before, these men were experienced killers.

They had obviously learned how to fight with a blade and had worked togther before. They pressed him high and low, and without his dagger to parry the thrusts a few got throught.

His thick leathers protected him from the worse of it, but cuts landed.

What was actually seconds seemed days. The hellish clammor of the sword blows rang out as if it was the devil's symphony, with the drums of heavy breathing, dancing feet and the soft drips of blood on the forrest floor.

Then the shot landed.

It wasn't a very good shot, but it didn't need to be. The blade entered just below his shoulder, into his right armpit.

Just an inch, but the blood flowed from the artery. It made him drop his guard.

He switched to his left hand, but another shot, a thrust landed to his left calf, and he stumbuled. The men circled him, and he limped to keep himself between them and Saira...

He stood, knowing he was about to die, but he was going to take one of them with him.

Then the body flew past him, into the man on the right.

Gavin, knowing how to take "Yes" as an answer, lunged. It was a bad lunge as his masters would have said. He lacked speed, grace and power...but then again, they weren't here and he was.

His target was still in shock from seeing his partner's mangled body slam into his fellow killer...and took the thrust through the chest.

Gavin fell with the lunge, then got to his feet just as the other man removed the body from over him on the ground amd attempted to rise.

Gavin hit him in the face with an overhand left. He fell.
Saira walked over to him, and handed him the knife.

She looked like a savage mess, her robes torn, her face begining to bruise and blood in her hair. She was the hottest, most sexy thing he'd ever seen.

She handed him the dagger. When her hands touched his, sparks flew.

Not just figuratively...actual sparks flew.

He wrenched his gaze from her eyes, took a knee and thrust the dagger into the last man's throat.

He wiped the blade on the man's shirt, rose up to stand next to her.

He dropped the dagger, and his left hand rose to her face. He brushed her cheek, leaned into kiss her...then the world went black.

 

[Lady_Gamer]

Sairalindë caught the man as he fell, easing him to the ground slowly. The wound under his right arm was gushing blood and drenched the left side of the elf's robe as she held him.

"Gavin!" she cried, as if she could wake him.

The woman immediately placed both hands on the more serious of his wounds and began chanting.

"Sairalindë?" she suddenly heard from behind. The voice was familiar and caused the young elf to stop casting. She glanced back to see her brother. His expression was one of uncertainty. "What are you doing?"

She didn't respond, instead turning her attention back to Gavin. Just as she began to chant again, she felt her brother's hand closing on her upper arm. He pulled her back and to her feet. "Let him die," he said coldly.

The woman growled and pulled her arm free forcefully. She regarded her brother with eyes that burned an intense golden color. "Do not interfere," she said in a low voice.

The male elf seemed to be taken aback by this. He had spent the entire night tracking, looking for his younger sister. This was not at all what he had expected to find. Saira fell to her knees and placed her hands under Gavin's right arm.

Her brother watched silently as the woman began her quiet chanting. She closed her eyes and focused her will on conjuring divine help for the man. Her hands slowly gained a bright glow that increased in intensity until it was painful to behold.

Several moments later, the woman opened her eyes and inspected the progress. The wound appeared to be successfully treated, leaving only an inch length scar behind.

"Well?" her brother asked impatiently. He had no idea how bad the damage truly was - he had not witnessed much of the battle, much less what was happening before it. Sairalindë looked back at her brother before he asked, "Are you ready to go?"

"...No," she responded. She repositioned herself at Gavin's legs, taking his right calf in to her hands.

"No?" her brother responded in disbelief. He allowed her time to finish the second spell she had began to cast on the human. When it was completed, he continued, "What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure that I care to return," she spoke honestly without looking at her brother. His reaction to this was fairly dramatic.

He stepped forward and grabbed his sister's arm, pulling her up and forcing her to face him. "You don't have a choice in the matter," he spoke furiously.

"Let me go!" Sairalindë cried as she tried to pull away from him. His grip was far more assertive than before. The man took several steps towards the horses, dragging Saira along with him.

"This is for your own good," the man continued. "I'm not going to let you become a traitor over some...some fucking human. Surely you're not more loyal to him than your own kin? Because that's how it will look if you don't return with me."

Sairalindë looked back at Gavin. She hadn't been so taken with him that she wanted to be banished from the only life she had known. But he had given her reason to doubt what she had been told of the outside world. She just wanted a little more time to explore and figure things out for herself. Her reflection on the matter left her silent.

"What is it that would have you healing a human, anyway?" he asked angrily.

"...He saved me. A couple of times."

The man waved his hand dismissively in the air. "I'm saving you now, you don't need him. Tell you what, though: I won't mention this to anyone and I will even leave him alive if you come to your senses and return with me."

Sairalindë loved her brother dearly, but she resented the thought that he would take the time to do further damage to Gavin to spite her. "Fine. Why don't you find some trophies to bring with us? Might as well have a story."

The man smiled. That sounded more like his sister should - the man unsheathed a long knife from his belt and went about collecting the right ears of the dead men that were strewn about.

Meanwhile, Sairalindë ripped a good portion of the bottom of her robe off. It held the silver and golden embroidery and was about the size of a half sheet of paper. She quickly found a sharp stick and used the blood on her robes to write with. Making sure that her brother was distracted, she quickly wrote "In three full moons, here." She then sketched three cycles of the moon below it, followed by repeating the word, "Here". She could only hope that Gavin would know the word written, or that he would know someone that was familiar with elven writing.

The woman rushed over to Gavin, placing the fabric in his hand. She grabbed the blanket he had borrowed her and covered his body with care. She made sure that her brother was occupied before giving the man a soft kiss on the lips. "I will see you again," she whispered.

It was only moments after that her brother had gained his trophies and was ready to leave. The two mounted their horses and were quickly gone. Sairalindë tried not to let her expression show how heartbroken she was.

 

[Lady_Gamer]

Not a day went by that Sairalindë did not think of the human.

Upon returning home, to her life within the temple, she couldn't help but see how sheltered her existence truly was. She couldn't claim to be a captive but the routine of a priestess left her to feel trapped where she had previously been honored. She rarely had opportunity to leave. When she did, it was always in the company of others. She tried to keep up appearances but felt suffocated.

Her brother had told the community that Sairalindë had been taken hostage by humans, which would account for how long she had disappeared. His story, supplemented by his trophies, led to a great amount of praise for him and a barrage of questions for her. How did they treat her? What were they planning to do with her?

Sairalindë would speak very little on the matter. She would explain that she didn't speak their language so she had no way of knowing the humans' intentions. So far as treatment, she would just shrug in response. She wasn't pressed on the issue.

The woman used the stories as an excuse to start studying the language of the humans. It was known well enough by her people; many, if not most, of the elves that were involved in the wars knew the enemies' tongue. They seemed to appreciate her desire to learn and taught her freely.

Only her brother would have reason to suspect her motives in the matter. He didn't dare call her out on it in public. While they did have a couple of disagreements about it in private, we will not be relating the conversations here.

For the first time in her life, Sairalindë could feel the passing of the days. Never before had she been so concerned with the existence of time; she could afford to let years slip by without much consequence. But now...now she felt like a day, a month, could have a great impact on her life. She refused to lose a single minute.

The elf would eventually find that the lunar cycle was nearing its third full sequence since she had parted with Gavin. As she readied her things and planned her exit strategy, she started to have some doubts.

What if he didn't come to meet with her? What if something had happened to him? She felt pained even thinking about it.

There was only one way to find out. She left her camp on horseback in the earliest hours of the day, aiming to arrive at the location before the nightfall of the full moon.