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The twin suns of Whispin were at their zenith, beating down mercilessly on the half-elf's crimson tressed head. It was midday, twenty-four hours into the planet's forty eight-hour cycle. Well use to the brutal heat the Amazon would have been fine, had it not been for her environment, deep in the arid Obsidian Basin. The horse beneath her was staggering, an animal as black as the sand its hooves pounded across. A lather had sprung up across its withers, its coat slick beneath An'Thaya's hands as she braced herself, twisting in the saddle to cast a fear-filled glance behind her. The rolling dunes hid him from her view, but she knew he was there, as he had been for nearly two days now. The binding spells he had hit her with were starting to wear off, she could feel the surge of magic again in her veins . . . but Tallin was close on her heels. The Aethyr might very well come to her too late.
"Come on Amar . . . just a little further boy, you can do it," she whispered breathlessly to her mount, more a result of being hoarse than any driving need for quiet. Tallin knew exactly where she was, it was only a matter of time before he caught up . . . and then . . . Forcing the thought from her mind the Amazon urged the Stallion on, falling forward on his neck as the beast stumbled down the side of a dune, hooves slipping in the shifting sand. Near the bottom he slipped, going down with a scream of terror, his foreleg giving way with a snap of bone. The Amazon was thrown forwards, hitting the sand hard and rolling to a jarring stop. Her eyes caught movement at the top of the hill, Tallin's cloak whipping in the wind as he topped the rise, urging his horse into a gallop when he spotted her.
Emerald eyes flickered to Amar; already knowing there was nothing she could do for him . . . the horse was as good as dead. Her heart beating frantically she pushed herself up onto her knees, scrambling backwards as her Uncle charged down the hill. She just barely avoided his grabbing hand, throwing herself clear of his reach as he made a wild grab for her hair. "No!" She slipped, tumbling down into the sand again, spitting the gritty black grains from her mouth as she crawled forwards, pushed up into a dead run.
"Little Bitch," Tallin snarled, already wheeling his horse around, "It's no use running . . . I'll have you yet."
Making another run at her, he dismounted, reaching, finding purchase on her hair and yanking hard. An'Thaya screamed, twisting in his grip, striking out at him, drawing blood on his wrist with her dagger.
"Let me go! I'll never let you use it . . . I'd die first!" In desperation she reached for the Aethyr, opening a random portal as she tore away from him. She was almost through when his fingers closed around her wrist, bruising her skin with their brutal strength. There was an odd pushing and pulling from another source, the scent of trees . . . of an evening breeze and rain. Tallin screamed as something assaulted him, drove him back, a barrier he could not cross. The Amazon stumbled forward, welcomed by a magic not her own, wards that embraced and protected her, driving back the pursuing evil.
Cold rain sizzled on her hot skin, soaked down her crimson hair as she collapsed to her knees, breathing in ragged gasps. Remaining still for several moments she welcomed the cold deluge, letting it wash away the fear, the memory of his fingers grabbing at her arms and hair. Then, returning her daggers to their sheaths, she straightened, pushing her wet locks back out of her face and taking a look around. There was a building before her . . . an Inn. There was a light in the taproom, a fire lit to welcome travelers even in the dead of night. With a sigh of relief An'Thaya mounted the stairs, resting her hand on the half-wall that surrounded the porch before reaching for the door. Stepping in out of the rain, she looked around the empty taproom, steam rising from her cooling skin, Wary eyes searched out the stairs in front of her, then roved off to the left, taking in the tables, the long counter, and the kitchen in behind. It was empty, but welcoming. "Suilad?" She called softly, "Is anyone here?"
Someone was there. He was actually behind the counter, bending over to look for a pen and ink so he could go over his books. Galain had been unable to sleep, the rain and wind outside conspiring to beat upon his room’s window until he finally tossed the covers of his bed aside, dressed and came downstairs.
“Yes! I’m here! Suilad!” He answered, straightening suddenly. He paused, taking in the wet, bedraggled form before him. She was the most exotic, fantastic creature he’d set eyes upon in a very long time and the elf nearly let out a low whistle.
“Welcome to the Green Heart,” he finally said, giving himself a mental shake. “We offer rooms, food, drink… perhaps you’d like a dry towel first?” His eyes involuntarily raked down her wet form before he forced himself to look away. Every taut line of her body told the elf she’d been fleeing from something, that she still felt immense fear. Her eyes were bright and wild, belying the soft tone of her voice.
The elf moved down the bar counter and opened a door where a variety of linens and towels were kept. He withdrew what he wanted and headed toward the young woman, an easy smile on his face.
“For your hair, and for the rest of you,” he said, offering the towels. He leaned in close to her, catching the scent of desert, horse and yes… fear on her and his nostrils flared as he cast her a quick look. “Where are you from?” He asked.
An’Thaya’s body tensed at the sound, ears perking, recognizing the lilting musical tone of an Elven male. The sight of him caught her off guard, not at all what she had expected. He was golden and beautiful, and the half-elf had too look twice at his ears to convince herself that her hearing was working properly. He was tall, very tall, though that was hardly what disturbed her. His body was well muscled and hard; the fine cut of his form displayed almost artfully in tight breeches and an open leather vest. A golden rose sparkled over his heart, but otherwise, despite a few faint scars, he seemed.... flawless. Golden curls framed a beautiful face, yes, beautiful, he was far to pretty for handsome to do him justice. His smile curled the edges of a sensual mouth, not quite matching the easy air he was exuding.
The way his gaze raked over her made the Amazon nervous, and she took an involuntary step back when the Elf approached her. “The Green Heart?” Wild emerald green eyes met a gaze that was a peculiar sea green. Despite his welcoming expression, there was something about him that set off alarms. This gilded creature was dangerous, a predator in his own right. As he stepped in closer the Amazon’s hands automatically went to her daggers, the whisper of metal moving slightly in their sheaths. Her gaze dropped to the towels, several tense moments spent trying to decide whether she should trust him or not.
Well what choice did she have? There was no where else for her to go, Tallin had her cornered, unable to get home. The moment she stepped outside of the wards he would find her again. The Amazon was sure of it. Necessity... no, desperation, forced her to accept this stranger's hospitality. Her hand darted out, snatching the towels from his fingers before she backed away a few steps, clutching them to her chest. The movement caused the golden tear on her breast to glitter wildly in the light, contrasting sharply against her damp, tanned skin. “You’re an elf,” she observed, “But... you’re blonde. You are not S’Hean....” Confusion was evident in her expression. “Where am I? This cannot be Whispin. Who are you?”
Galain raised his hands up to show he meant no harm when she quickly snatched the towels away from him. He’d not missed where her hands had gone at first and his eyes had widened at the sight of those daggers. He backed up a step and a small laugh escaped him.
“So you’re from Whispin then? This is Berelath. Well, one very forested, wet corner of Berelath. I’m Galain. And yes I’m an elf. We tend to be blonde here. They’re not where you come from?” He couldn’t quite see the young woman’s ears and tried not to make a show of his curiosity. The glitter of the golden tear on her chest caught his attention and he gazed intently for several moments too long before he realized just how inappropriate his stare was. He stepped forward, fascinated and wanting to touch that tear and then he colored deeply and looked away.
“Forgive me for staring,” he muttered. “Please, I can show you to a room. The sheets are clean, I can build a fire and you can dry off. Do you need food?” He cast a sideways glance at her now. He was noting more details – her petite yet muscular form, the wildness in her eyes, the deep fire of her hair. He swallowed and stared at the floorboards of the taproom.
Hard emerald eyes followed his every move, disguising the stark fear in their depths. She was a hunted creature, weary, distrustful of everything and anything. Untamed, unbroken, feral in the truest sense of the word. Unusually strong fingers tapped lightly on the pommels of her daggers before the blonde elf looked away and she allowed herself to relax slightly after his apology.
"Galain," the Amazon's voice was oddly accented, and the name felt strange on her tongue. "I am from Whispin, yes. S'Hean elves are always dark of hair, never fair. Berelath?" Nervous laughter made her body tremble, and An'Thaya shivered involuntarily. It was cold here in comparison to her home planet, only adrenaline was keeping her from shaking uncontrollably. She felt light headed as well, an effect of lesser gravity.
So many questions at once, her mind was having trouble getting around it. "A room ... yes. I'm freezing." The admission suddenly set her teeth to chattering and all the redhead could do was nod mutely. After several days in the desert on nothing but hard tack, she was starving.
“Then come and I will build a fire in your room and bring up a meal. The rooms are just this way… hang on a moment.” Galain retrieved a key and then beckoned to the young woman. It was then that he realized he didn’t know her name. He paused, then thought better of it. He might find a chance later to learn her name.
“Just up the steps a bit, watch the landing; it tends to surprise folks the first time. Here we go, the rooms aren’t much, but I make sure they’re clean. The fire won’t take but a minute to build. Please, there are more blankets in that cupboard over there. There’s a spare pillow in the wardrobe if one isn’t enough.” Galain filled up the silence between them with chatter, crouching down to light the tinder in the hearth before adding seasoned wood to encourage the flames. He turned toward her, still crouching.
“Anything in particular you’re hungry for or will stew, bread and cheese be okay? I have apples. Lots of beer, hard liquor… but I can draw up cold water or something else.” He watched the Amazon intently, ready to catch her should she fall. She didn’t look too steady on her feet at the moment.
The Amazon edged past the bed to the window, keeping her back to the wall. Cat-slit pupils widened until the emerald iris nearly disappeared, taking in as much light as possible. She could see the yard, the trees beyond ... nothing moved. The only thing she could feel was the wards. "That and some water would be fine," she murmured in common. The T’s were strongly enunciated; the R’s slightly rolled. A Terran would have labeled her a Scandinavian that had spent a little too much time in Scotland. "Perhaps an apple."
Relaxing a little the half-elf closed the shutters and pulled her flaming mass of hair back, revealing the shell shaped tip of one ear. Lithe fingers unbuckled her breast plate, a fine rain of black sand scattering over the floor as the metal came away from the cropped off black shirt underneath. "Is there a tub?" she inquired, the tone in her voice almost wistful. The removal of her wrist guards revealed ugly black bruises where Tallin had grabbed her, but she didn't seem to notice.
The elf remained where he was, still crouching on the floor beside the slowly growing fire. He’d turned when she’d spoken and noted how wary she was. He nodded at her first answer. Stew, bread, cheese, water and an apple. His eyes widened when he saw the shape of her ear and then he ruefully watched her shower black sand all over the floor. His eyes sped quickly back upward though, taking in every petite detail of the young woman, finding that he rather liked how the black shirt she now wore revealed her voluptuous curves.
"We have a tub... it'll take me a bit to bring it up and get it filled..." he started to answer her and then noticed the bruises, and was on his feet, crossing the room without thinking and quickly snatching up her wrists. He didn’t even stop to think he was simply stunned by the absolute brutality that had to have caused such marks.
Sheer terror lit the depths of emerald eyes and the Amazon reacted on instinct, one booted heel coming down on a sharp angle and grinding into the tender part of his foot were it met his leg. A wrist pulled free of his grip and the heel of her hand drove into the Elf’s solar plexus, driving him back away from her and into the wall.
The sharp edge of a dagger was at Galain’s throat before either of them could blink, horizontal across his skin, the redhead breathing heavily as she pressed it against his jugular. One movement, one jerk of her arm, and his lifeblood would run.
“Never … touch me. I did not give you permission.”
Pain in the foot, pain in the gut, at least she hadn't kicked him in the groin, but Galain wouldn't appreciate that particular bit of information until later. He had begun to slide to the floor when the knife made its magical appearance at his throat. He felt the cold metal against his skin and just stared before he blinked. It was the only way he felt he could safely acknowledge her though he did manage to turn his hands upward, palms outward.
His eyes slid downward, masking the new intrigue that entered his eyes. What was she that she didn't want to be touched -- besides obviously abused?
Hard emerald eyes took in his body posture, her own nearly vibrating with barely contained tension. The movement had been one of concern, she understood that, but he had no right. The pressure of the blade eased and she relaxed her defensive posture a little, stepping back. The dagger was still lightly held in lithe fingers, but the deadly intent had faded. “Do you always manhandle your customers?” Her tone was dry, no obvious malice present. “Just … don’t.”
Galain remained where he was, frozen in a slumping crouch against the wall. He was quite aware now of how quickly that blade could return to his throat and he breathed slowly.
"I don't... I didn't... manhandling isn't my normal route. I didn't think I was. I'm sorry." Galain was feeling exceptionally lame and foolish at the moment though his eyes glittered. A really insane part of him had wondered if she'd really press that blade home. He hid the glitter as fast as he could and stared at the floor.
"Is it safe for me to move now? Get your food? Do whatever it was I was going to do before I saw your wounds?" He asked just as dryly.
Nodding mutely the Amazon backed away, the dagger finally returning to its sheath, though a wary eye remained on the blonde elf. “A bath,” she reminded him, something about her seeming to glow at the thought. “Don’t worry about my wounds. I’ve had worse.”
Resting a foot on a low stool An’Thaya disappeared behind a curtain of flame colored hair as she pulled a dagger from her boot, removed it; then repeated the process with the other. Another blade was pulled from a hidden harness on her back, and two from her hips. Barefoot and disarmed she gathered up the discarded weaponry and laid it out on a small table near the bed. “Thank you, for your hospitality,” she said finally.
A bath. That's right. The food and the bath. Galain was trying to regain some semblance of coherent thought again, but was frozen as he watched her disarm herself. One, two.. three... four and five... The Elen blinked slowly and then nodded.
"You're welcome," he replied, wondering what else she hid. He forcefully turned himself away. "I'll get the food first while the water heats. We're not plumbed. I probably already said that," he mumbled. The fire was blazing cheerily now and the elf quickly made his exit, taking the stairs downward two and three at a time. The great hearth in the taproom was large enough for heating several good-sized pots of water at a time and he got those going first before he prepared the repast his guest had requested. He stepped outside to retrieve the big metal bathtub and hefted that and the tray of food together before he returned back upstairs, using his foot to kick at the door.
"Your food is here, and the tub. I'll bring water up in a moment," he said as the door swung open and he re-entered the room.
Perched near the fireplace; her hair as wild as the flames within; the Amazon tensed when the blonde elf kicked at the door. Cat-slit eyes watched him, no longer wary, but hardly trusting either. “Hantale … Galain.” Shifting a little closer to the heat of the fire she shivered slightly, “It is cold here. Freezing, actually … and everything seems… light.” They were quiet remuneration, mostly for her own benefit. Saying it aloud ordered her thoughts and distracted her from the uncomfortably chilly temperature.
“Here, let me help.” Rising, finally, she crossed the room and relieved him of the tray. “You have been … most … kind.” The words seemed to cost her and her expression remained unreadable. “What do I owe you for all this?” Her money pouch, at least, had survived the flight from Tallin, though everything else had been left behind with Amar on the black sands.
Galain had to stop a moment to fully appreciate the vision before his eyes. Her hair rivaled the fire's flames in their fiery nature and his jaw dropped for a few seconds. The eyes also caught his attention. He hadn't missed them before, but the picture she presented was breathtaking.
"Seasamin, amin naa tualle," Galain replied, pleased to hear his tongue being spoken. He let her take the tray and then set the tub down on the floor. He paused, his eyes glittering at the thought of payment and then he shrugged.
"You only owe me your name. You know mine..." He finally said, giving her a small smile. "Unless you'd like for me to resort to constantly calling you M’Lady or something. Which can be done." The smile he gave her now was more engaging.
Settling back near the fire she tilted her head slightly to study his sea-green eyes for a moment, searching for something in their depths. “I’m hardly a Lady,” she pointed out, “So I suppose my name it will have to be.” Emerald eyes darkened for a moment, as if weighing something in her mind before she spoke again. “An’Thaya D’Riel.” It felt strange to say it aloud. Up until a few months ago she had been Tay Terne, daughter of Tager Terne … and life had been a great deal easier. The man that pursued her had been a nameless menace, and there were no heavy responsibilities weighing her down. Only a wild will to survive, and tormented grief over a lost companion in the tides of time.
Now … everything had changed, and she was alone. With Tallin hot on her heels she was never going to make it to the Jungle on her own, and if he followed her … he would find Tager. Even knowing the truth, that the man that had raised her was not her biological father, she still loved him like one. On the other hand, she had to return, Tager had summoned her, something he had never done before. Whatever he wanted, it had to be something important… and she had the terrible feeling that Arminiea had not revealed all. An identity was all she had, though who An’Thaya D’Riel was … that, she had yet to discover.
“This is good,” she said finally, referring to the stew. “You know … you don’t really seem the type to be running an Inn.” Her gaze flickered over the Elf slowly, “You have the look of a Ranger … and … I’d bet my last Whisp that you have noble blood in your veins.”
Hardly a Lady? Galain eyed the young woman for a moment, not quite believing that statement. But he had her name now and he bowed slightly.
"Be welcome here then, An'Thaya D'Riel," he said. He caught that searching look of hers and wondered what she saw when she looked at him, and then he decided that for now he didn't want to know. He smiled when she complimented the stew.
"I'm glad you like it. I do the hunting... and the cooking for now." He stopped when her other words seemed to pin him down for answers that made his own self uncomfortable. He swallowed a bit and stepped away.
"I might be or have -- on both accounts. The first pots are probably ready. I'll be right back." He risked another quick look at her and paused. "You're not all that common yourself," he said before he slipped out the door.
His last words had her staring after him. Not common? She had been called beautiful before, usually by those she didn’t care to hear it from, but no one had ever accused her of being … noble. Then again, she spent most of her time among humans, and although they appreciated her delicate Elven features, they had little experience with Elves as a people. As for An’Thaya, she had no experience with them at all.
Who was she descended from? Where had the strange conduit within her soul come from? What accident of birth had the man named Tallin chasing her relentlessly from one end of Whispin to another, and now… off of the very planet itself.
Setting aside the empty bowl she nibbled at some bread and cheese, her lashes lowered to the cinders in the fireplace as she contemplated her life. Who was Tallin? Besides the man that had taken Reece’ life …
Galain was berating himself. Upstairs was the most gorgeous, fascinating, mystifying and wondrous creature he'd been blessed to set eyes upon in a long while. She was wild and savage and lovely beyond compare. His baser nature screamed out to woo her and take her to bed somehow, but the memory of the dagger against his throat had him engaging no small amount of caution. And at the same time he wanted to test that dagger again.
"Idiot!" He hissed at himself. She had obviously been running. But from what? And she'd been hurt. By whom? And she was definitely noble if not royal. D’Riel? He cursed himself for never having paid attention before he'd run from Alcarinque. He should know this...
Galain hooked two pots of hot water to a long pole, shouldered the pole and headed up the stairs, careful not to wedge himself between the walls or lose any of the precious water. He'd have another two trips doing this and then he'd have to fetch cooler water for rinsing. He tapped the door with the toe of his boot.
"I'm back," he called softly. "With the first of the water. Watch out... it's hot." He stepped in and refrained from looking at her this time, intent upon preparing her bath. And then he went quite scarlet as he envisioned her in the very tub he was filling. Gods.
"Two more big pots like this and you'll be set. I've got some sort of bathing salts by the bed. I don't know if they're any good. Just picked them up someplace," he said, finally looking at her and finding himself unable to tear his eyes away.
Broken out of her reverie the Amazon watched as the Elf filled the tub. Generally, she preferred free flowing water to a tub, but at this point she was willing to take what she could get. “It is the water that is important,” she murmured, the word almost reverent. The redhead had never quite understood her need for it, the feeling it gave her. Reece had mentioned something once, about her kind and their love of it, but he hadn’t been very clear on the details.
Rising she brushed her hands off on her leather trousers and crossed the room to investigate the salts. Popping the lid off one she gently inhaled, and the scent of home brought a startled purr to her throat. It was strawberry.
The purring surprised Galain and his eyebrows climbed rather high on his forehead. He took it that she liked what she smelled and a helpless smile crossed his face. He'd have to remember where he'd gotten that stuff. He wasn't sure what she meant by the water, but he was jolted into remembering there was more downstairs and he needed to snag it before it grew too hot.
"I'll... be right back, with the water. Hot. Then cooler. Right back," he said, fairly sure he sounded utterly ridiculous as he picked up the pots, shouldered the pole and promptly bashed one end of the pole against the door. He flew backward, cursed and gathered himself together before somehow got himself out of the room, pots, pole and elf clattering along down the stairs.
Intent on the bottle of salts, the Amazon had missed the expression on his face, turning only when the pole smashed into the door. Despite herself, the redhead grinned, her lip curling in amusement and putting a small dimple in her cheek. He was the first full-blooded Elf she had ever run across, and although he wasn’t S’Hean, it was still … comforting. Oddly. Armenia had seen to her education in the Elven language, and it flowed as naturally from her tongue as Common. It felt … natural.
While he was gone she poured some of the bath salts into the water and crouched down to run her fingers through it, her emerald green’s glowing softly in response to the sensation on her skin. It was good to feel safe, something she hadn’t experience since leaving the Crystal Keep.
"Dork! Idiot! Fool! Silly! Boy!" Galain was calling himself all sorts of names as he gathered up the second set of pots, hung them from the pole and headed back up the stairs. He couldn't believe he'd been so clumsy and was extra careful this time around. He stopped before the door and gently eased it open, peering in. And there she was... crouching and staring into the water, almost mesmerized it seemed.
"More water. It's all the tub will hold without spilling. I'll have rinse water ready for you too. Uh... I... should probably bring that up before you get in," Galain's mind ran in riotous circles about that point as he tried to remember if he had a third set of pots heating over the fire.
"Did I show you where the towels were?" He asked, loathe to take his eyes off her.
“Hmmm? Yes, you gave me some when I first came in,” she said in a distracted tone. Rising An’Thaya headed back towards the bed to fetch them, as he filled the tub. “See?” Tossing them back on the bed she stripped her shirt off over her head and turned towards the wall, shaking out her long red hair. Laying the garment across a chair she started on the laces of her trousers. Still lost in thought, she seemed completely lacking in the self-consciousness department.
“Do you get many customers here? I don’t suppose you know anyone that is handy with a portal?” The problem of getting home was still high on her priority list. The moment she used her magic, Tallin would be on her again. If she could get someone else to do it for her …
"Good. I had a brain a while ago it seems," Galain muttered to himself. He'd finished dumping in the water and his head swiveled as he watched An'Thaya cross the room. "Yes... I see," he said distractedly as she began to strip before him. One glorious glimpse before she turned toward the wall. An amazing shake of her hair... Why did it have to be so long? He could tell that mane of fire would cover all the precious bits and pieces he was aching to see and he started when she spoke again.
"I do. It's busier during the day. Warmer too. I do portals. Not that well, but I do them. You plan to leave soon? It might rain for days here." He was still staring, telling himself he should look away.
“You do?” She turned her head, gazing at him over her shoulder for a moment. “Yes, I have someplace to be… and soon. I’m already late.” Her attention returned to the leather trousers, stripping them off and letting them join the shirt on the chair. Grabbing a towel she shook it out and wrapped it lightly around herself. “If you wouldn’t mind, it would be a great help if you could get me home.”
Goosebumps covered her skin and she shivered slightly, reaching out to balance herself on the side of the tub before stepping in. For the briefest of moments her eyes went completely feral before the heat seeped into her skin and the expression was replaced with relief. Shucking the towel the Amazon let it fall to the floor as she sank into the welcoming water. “I’ll be going first thing in the morning.”
"I do... Where? Late?" He was asking stupid questions she'd not answer until she was ready, but he didn't care because the trousers were off and for a moment Galain had a fleeting glimpse of the most glorious back end he'd ever seen. Soft and sweetly curved... and covered. Galain ran a hand through his hair and strove mightily to meet An'Thaya's eyes.
"I could try. I --" He cut himself off as she stepped into the tub and the towel was tossed aside. He almost moved to catch her but had a feeling she might just flip him right over her delightfully bare shoulder. He'd wondered over the expression in her eyes, then shut his own.
"So soon? I -- all right. I... first thing? I have an inn..." He opened his eyes back up and then just turned away. "I'll go get the rise water. It'll be too hot. Hope you don't prune..."
Galain made his escape.
An’Thaya gazed after the retreating Elf for a moment and shook her head. He was a rather strange fellow. Leaning back against the edge of the tub she sighed then sank beneath the surface of the water, watching her hair billow out above her face. It was like looking through liquid fire …
She stayed there for awhile, taking advantage of her unusual lung capacity and simply soaking, grateful to be rid of the gritty black sand of the Obsidian Desert. Why anyone would want to live in a place that dry was beyond her.
After a bit she scrubbed down and surfaced, scrubbing hard at her long wet locks in an almost frenetic desire to be clean.
He returned in time to catch An'Thaya scrubbing at her hair. Galain dropped both pots of somewhat warm water and stared, sighing to himself. He was dying to get his fingers caught in those locks and he wondered if he would burn to a crisp if he touched the living fire of those tresses. If so, he'd die happy. He stepped closer until he was directly above her.
"Your rinse water is here," he announced.
Lost in the process of cleaning her hair she hadn’t heard him come in. The sound of his voice made her jump, splashing a good deal of water onto the Elf in the process. Wild emerald eyes stared up at him for a moment, devoid of thought for several heartbeats. She blinked, then looked from him to the rinse water. “Oh … good, Hantale.”
Standing she sluiced the soap out of her hair and raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “Does rinse down service come with the room?” He was, by far, the most attentive innkeeper she had ever run across, and his rather odd behavior was somewhat of a source of amusement.
Galain let out a gasp, leaped backward and then stared down at himself. He was drenched. He gave An'Thaya a rueful smile.
"Sorry, I surprised you," he said, staring at the green gems that were her eyes before his eyes traveled downward, an appreciative glaze misting over his eyes. "And you're welcome. I... pardon? I... seriously?" He was ready to stay and rinse, but then he paused again, a suspicious look on his face. She was playing with him. He was horribly attracted to her and she wasn't even remotely interested in him. He pushed anyway.
"For a price. I rinse for a small price," he said.
The Amazon looked from the water to the Elf, her delicate crimson eyebrow creeping upwards again. “A price? What sort of price?” It was starting to get a bit chilly standing there like that and from a logical point of view, it would take much less time to have him run a little water over her than wrestling with it herself.
The question of interest hadn’t even entered her mind. Still innocent when it came to carnal issues, she was merely horribly oblivious. The only contact she had with males had involved a few brutes trying to force themselves on her, which had ended badly … for them. And Reece, who have been to much of a gentleman, and in the end … far to old for her when the confusing issues of their conflicting ages arose.
Galain stared at An'Thaya -- ALL of An'Thaya and let out a gurgling sound.
"I'm joking. I'm just joking. You've got to be freezing. I'll get the fire going bigger for you in a jif." He poured the first of the buckets over the woman and watched the water slide its way down her muscled body.
"More?" He asked breathlessly. He was pouring before she could reply and then he did something monumentally bad. He kissed her while the water washed over her. He slipped back, attempting to look like he'd been doing nothing but rinsing her, but the hint of strawberry and the taste of something more potent had him flushing.
"Better?" He asked.
Wet eyelashes flickered up and she stared at him from behind a curtain of drenched hair. “Don’t … ever, do that again,” the Amazon said in a dangerously low tone. “I’ve killed men for less. But seeing as you have been so gracious so far … I’ll overlook it.” Small hands flipped her hair back and she squeezed the water out of it. “But yes, much better, thank you.”
Snatching up a clean towel An’Thaya wrapped it around herself and stepped out of the tub. “I can see to the fire, I think you had better leave.”
She'd not missed it. Galain's eyes dropped and despite all he'd done he was embarrassed and oddly... chastened.
"Yes... all right. I -- I'm glad that's better." He flashed a quick glance up at her, but instead of looking apologetic there was a fire in his eyes he couldn't quite quench. He tried to blink it away and could only back himself up, thinking that was the wisest thing to do at this point.
"I'll leave. Tomorrow I'll take you -- home? Home." He turned around and walked right into the door again. Frustrated with himself the elf stood still a moment and then opened the door at last, leaving the buckets and pole behind. They weren't much to him at this point and he could retrieve them tomorrow.
It was in the hall that he finally touched his lips and wondered why she was so different from the others he'd chased before.
The daggers?
The innocence?
The threats?
The hidden fragility?
He took the steps downward quietly this time, closing up his books and building up the fire, willing the heat to move upward to warm the second story before he himself slowly ascended upward to his own room, wet Amazon kisses pervading his thoughts.
Amazon? She was like one. Like the myths.
An’Thaya stood quietly and stared at the door for awhile, until a sudden chill reminded her of the dimming fire.
Fire … that was definitely what she had felt in that brief moment his lips had brushed over hers. All she could taste was Elf … and it had her distracted and … something. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what. Those sea-green eyes were burned into her vision, and despite his odd behavior, she had felt an odd … pull to him.
Shaking her head as if to clear it the Amazon rinsed off her hands in the bath water and dried them on her towel before climbing into the bed. The sheets were cold, but soon warmed to her body heat. Slipping a dagger beneath the pillow she rolled to stare at the fire. Her thoughts a muddled mess. Galain bothered her … in a strange way, but he wasn’t frightening. For the first time since Reece had died she felt safe, and she silently convinced herself it was due to the wards.
Eventually, her lashes drifted down, and she fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Seasamin, amin naa tualle: My pleasure, I'm your servant.
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