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Date Posted: 13:22:51 04/19/03 Sat
Author: Adaron, Leila, Brage, & Gelan
Subject: The Quad travels away from Drimmen-deeve & Leila's prophecy
In reply to: No post. 's message, "War of the Everdark" on 12:38:20 03/27/03 Thu

Down from the Dawn-Gate on weary legs trudged the four Deevewalkers: Leila and Adaron first, Gelan and Brage coming after. Down out of Drimmen-deeve they trod, down onto the old abandoned tradeway that ran south a short way before swinging easterly to follow the slope of the pitch as it slowly fell toward the mouth of the Quadran, perhaps twenty-five miles distant. And as they wearily paced down the steps and onto the ancient pave, Brage gravely said, "All my days were filled with a yearning to come unto Kraggen-cor, yet now I am glad to leave it behind."

Onward they padded, Gelan no longer leaning upon Brage. The four were exhausted beyond telling, yet they had to get well away from the vicinity of the Gate, for as Gelan pointed out, "Ghola were not among the Yrm in the Black Hole. I deem they ride this Everydark somewhere. But they will return unto Drimmen-deeve, and we must be gone long ere then." And so they trudged down the old trade road, southward along the shore of the Quadmere, a lakelet less than a mile from the Dawn-Gate. Normally the clear tarn was fed by the high melt of Stormhelm flowing pure down Quadran Run; but both Run and 'Here were now frozen by the Winternight cold. And as the lagging steps of the four carried them alongside the iced-over water, far-off there was a low rumble, constant.

Along the high-bluffed western shore of the Quadmere they plodded, down past a snow-dusted, runecarven Realmstone marking the ancient boundary where began the Dwarven Kingdom of Drimmen-deeve. Southeastward down the Pitch they went, now following the course of the Quadrill, a river running down from the Grimwall to come eventually to the Argon River far to the east. They trudged without speaking ten miles or so, weary unto their very bones, leaving the Dawn-Gate and Drimmen-deeve beyond, the mysterious rumble fading as they went, and at last they made camp in the whin and pine along the slopes of the Pitch. And though they were exhausted unto numbness, still they took turns at watch in spite of Adaron's protest that he alone should stand ward. And each in his turn fought of sleep by walking slow rounds circling the camp. No fire was kindled and the cold was bitter; even so, dressed as they were in quilted down and enwrapped in cloaks, they slept the sleep of the dead.

Leila took the first watch, as was customary when the others were allowed to watch. When she was not pacing, she sat upon a log and watched the three sleep, memorizing each of their features. Adaron so fair and beautiful beyond compare. Gelan was handsome too, his face strong, still youthful; he would make for a High King loved by all. Brage...well, the chunky braids in his beard were definitely something very...dwarfish, but if it had not been for him, they would all be dead back in Drimmen-deeve. Hours passed and finally her watch was over. She went then and knelt down beside Gelan, her fingertips lightly brushing over his jaw before coming to rest upon his shoulder. Who would have thought that months ago the outcast gypsy would be waking the High King? "Wake now, brave King," she said in a low voice.

Having fallen immediately into slumber upon laying down on the bedroll, Gelan was in a deep sleep. Yet at her touch and soft words he stirred, eyelids opening to reveal steel-gray orbs. Then his eyes shut, his face contorting as he strove to wake the muscles before eyes opened once more and he slowly sat up. His gaze fell upon Leila. "Already?" He gave her a light smile before rising to his feet. "Now it is you who must rest. His hand fell to rest upon her shoulder for a moment before he turned, tucking his arms into his cloak as he began his circles.

Leila offered a light smile to him before she went to her bedroll that was akimbo to Adaron's, the elf sleeping deeply. It was to the sound of his rhythmic breathing that she fell asleep. Soon after, she grew cold, her eyelids fluttering half-open, though she never completely woke. Warmth. So she scooted closer to Adaron, curling up right against his side, her head resting lightly upon the bicep of his arm--it made a good pillow. Now that she shared her warmth with him, and in return stole his, she fell into a deep sleep. It would take an apocalypse to wake the gypsy up now. She was warm, she felt safe, and she knew that her beloved was alive and well, and finally resting. What more could she require?

At next change of watch, from Gelan to Brage, Adaron awoke to hear them speaking. They were not talking about anything in particular and so he took no note of it. Though, apparently sometime during the night Leila had become chill and was currently using him as a heat source. Without moving the arm and the bicep that she used as a pillow, he lifted his left arm and tugged on his scarlet cloak, bringing it to further wrap about him so that it would cover her as well. Ocean eyes watched her sleeping form next to him for some time before they drifted to a close, weary. And under the cloak his left arm snaked over his stomach to lay his hand gently upon her upper arm, to rest there.

Leila's arms had woven through his so that she held on to it, her fingers tightening some as she made the softest of sounds somewhere between contentment and exhaustion, though she was mostly hidden under his cloak, kept away from the sight of any else. Adaron would have a time disengaging himself from the sleeping gypsy without waking her up.

And so it was that Adaron had to worm his way out of her grasp when his turn at watch came. He simply unclasped his cloak and scooted out of it, and that took care of one of the problems. And gently he would take up her hand and reposition it. Twelve hours or so in all they remained in the pines, all sleeping except for the one on watch. But at last, Adaron, who stood the final watch, awakened the others, for he knew hat they still were too near the Deeves to be safe and could remain no longer.

~*~


"We must press on," said the Elf, "for when the Ghulka return to the caverns, they will be swift on our trail." Adaron gestured to the barren, windswept pavestones of the old trade road below, its course for the most part free of snow. "The Rupt will soon discover that this is the way we follow, for no tracks will they find crossing the land. But beyond our immediate danger, Gelan King, I sense a doom lying in the days ahead, but what it is I cannot say. Yet I feel we must go forth swiftly, for ever since the Helarms struck, I have felt and urgent need to press on, else I think all will fail and Drego will have his way." At these dire words Gelan bade the four to take a quick meal of mian and water. And before they set out, Gelan used the Atala Blade to cut a quarterstaff of pine for himself to bear, his sword having shattered. While Gelan did so, Brage turned to Leila. "Mind if I use that long-knife of yours?" His hand lifted, gesturing to Bane.

Instead she drew a sword and handed it to him. "I think you will find this more suiting for your strength, it is heavier." Furthermore she had no intention of giving Bane away, for Adaron had given it directly to her and there was something within that told her that she would need it in the coming days, for too she felt anxiety and a deep sense of foreboding.

Brage stood there, blinking for a moment before he realized what she meant. "Oh no no no. I am not going to use that. Nor was I planning on using that toothpick of yours in the days head. I was just going to use it to fashion a club for myself; for that blade is keen beyond reckoning."

A soft shake of her head before she surrendered Bane to him, though was not thrilled with the idea of it. Once more her sword was taken from him and sheathed at her hip as they continued walking.

And so while Gelan plied the Atala blade to cut a quarterstaff, Brage borrowed Bane, using it to fashion a wooden cudgel of yew as a weapon. The work was done swiftly for Bane's edge was keen indeed, and the blade of Atala hewed sharply, too. When the work was finished, Brage returned Bane to Leila with a grunt. Thus it was that when the four strode down from the pines and back to the road, each now was armed: Brage bore a blunt wooden cudgel; Gelan carried a quarterstaff and an Atala long-knife; Adaron wore Bale strapped to his side, bow and arrows strapped to his back; and Leila bore her bow and arrows, as well as the long-knife Bane.

And they went apace, for Adaron's dire words pushed them forth. Although each had slept but nine hours or so--standing three hours at watch--still they were rested somewhat, and the pall of fatigue that had smothered them was gone. And now their stride was firm and their eyes clear, except for Gelan's, for a faint haggard look still lingered deep within his gaze: the afterclap of the Gargon's blast. Even so, he along with the others searched to the limits of their vision, but Drego's myrk still hid the distant landscape. Yet in spite of the Everdark, Gelan reveled in the openness of the land before him, and though the air was icy with Winternight cold, he listened to distant sounds instead of close echoes from confining cavern walls. And there was a slow susurration of free-moving air, a silence of open space.

It took Leila two steps to keep up with every one of Gelan's and Adaron's, fortunately it probably took Brage three, though he was not that much smaller than herself. Once more she had taken to singing, perhaps for the first time in weeks did her voice lilt, though not too loud. "Morning smiles...like the face of a newborn child. Innocent unknowing. Winter's end...promises of a long-lost friend...speak to me of comfort. But I fear, I have nothing to give, and I have so much to lose here in this lonely place, tangled up in our embrace. There's nothing I'd like better than to fall..."

As they were walking, when Leila had paused to take a breath, Brage broke in, "When we came down the steps of the Daun-Gate, there was a faint rumble off in the distance. Now it is gone. Can you say what it was?" Oh, Brage knew.

She paused in her song and looked down to the dwarf, shaking her head lightly. "I have no idea."

Brage grinned as he felt a story coming on. But perhaps he set her up for it. "It was the Vorvor. Tucked in a great fold of Stone on Ghatan's flank is the Vorvor: a mighty whirlpool of water where a great underground river bursts from the side of Ghatan to thunder around the walls of the canyon and disappear down under the Mountains once more. There it was that the Wars with the Grg began, for jeering Ukhs and japing Hroks cast Durek--first King of my Folk--into hits ravening depths." Anger crossed Brage's features and fire smoldered in his eyes at the thought of the sneering Squam, but with visible effort he masked his passion and continued the tale: "And First Durek was sucked down under the stone by the rage, yet somehow he survived, and he became the first Chak to stride the undelved halls of Kraggen-cor, for that is where the suck drew him. And it is told that he came out from under the Mountains at the place where the Daun-Gate was later delved, yet how he crossed the Great Deop it is not known, though some say it was the Utruni who helped him."

And Leila listened somewhat attentively as they strode along in the darkness. A smile remained on her face, for sometimes she thought that Brage's true passion was telling stories, especially to those younger and therefore far more inexperienced than himself so that he could teach them history and guide them in their paths...perhaps not so much that as he just liked to talk, but Leila did not mind, for it passed the time.

"Know you of the Utruni?" Brage pressed.

"I know nothing of them Brage," she said and then with a silly half-smile as she inclined her head. "Will you tell me about them?" So she really was setting herself up in that sense, but if he continued to talk, then at least his spirits would be lifted and it would take everyone's mind off the situation at hand. Except perhaps Adaron's; she looked to him then, noting that he was lost somewhere in his own thoughts. The softest of sighs broke her lips before she turned to look at Brage again with an expectant smile.

Brage hardly noticed the grin that was tossed over Gelan's shoulder to Leila. Brage grunted: "If you insist." Though he seemed to be hiding a grin of his own beneath the facial hair that covered the lower half of his face. "The Utruni, or Stone Giants, and you would call them, living under the stone and working it. It is said that the Stone Giants respect the work of the Chakka, for we strengthen the living stone. And the Utruni detest the Grg, for though the Squam live under the Mountains, too, they befoul the very rock itself and destroy the precious works of the ageless Underland. I suppose you're wondering how the Utruni could aid Durek, for the Great Deop, as you saw, is at least fifty wide, and no one knows if it even has a bottom. To answer that, before you ask: Utruni have a special power over stone. They are able to pass through rock that they fissure with their hands and then seal it shut behind as they move on."

In front of them Adaron nodded slightly, confirming Brage's words but then he was deep in thought once again.

"With this gift," Brage went on, "they could aid anyone trapped as Durek was." South and east they strode, down the Pitch, called Baraln by the Dwarves, and named Falanith by the Elves; but by any name it was the great tilt of land hemmed in by the four mountains of the Quadran: Stormhelm, Grimspire, Loftcrag, Greytower. And as they went, Brage lifted his hand, pointing for Leila to follow his gaze. "Can you see the stone above yon slopes? See that it is almost white? We came from the red granite of Stormhelm, past the black of Grimspire. This it the granite of another mountain. That is Uchan, what you call Greytower and the Elves name Gralon."

Leila had winked at Gelan when he turned to grin at her before she took on an air of seriousness as Brage told his story. She nodded at key points and even followed his gaze up to the mountains nodding once more. The history was kind of entertaining actually. "So beyond that Brage, onto the subject of the Drimma. Where are the women? I have heard you speak of your father and grandfather, but never your mother."

"We don't speak of them often, if at all. But if you must know...Their voices are sweet and fair." Again Brage grunted. "They don't wear garments at all similar to ours. No, instead lace and silk. Slender they are, and a bit shorter, the Chakian are." And that was enough that Brage would say on them, keeping all else a secret. Back to the Mountains. "Now the only Mountain you have not seen it Ghatan, and its stone is blue-tinged. Rust, ebon, azure, gris: these are the colors of the four great Mountains, and under each, different ores, different treasures, lie."

She looked up at the dark sky thoughtfully. "I never thought my life would take a turn such as this. I never even dreamed I would see these mountains beyond poorly drawn illustrations in books and travel logs." As they continued walking she stretched and turned to pop bones and flex muscles that were growing tired, though tired was a vast improvement from exhausted beyond all means of functioning. Moving off of the mountain subject again. "Now that the Gorgon is dead, will the Drimma be able to reclaim Drimmen-deeve?"

"We'll be able to make a stand. First we'll have to fight of the remaining Grg." Brage paused a moment, his hand lifting to scratch his chin under his beard, chocolate eyes gazing to the side at Leila for a moment. "Know you that the Chakka cannot lose their steps? It is a gift all Chakka have."

"They cannot lose their steps? What do you mean?"

He knew she would ask, and a grin of pride spread over his features. "Whether we travel on or within the land, be it by pony or even in a drawn cart or wagon, we can ever retrace that path exactly."

A nod was given then and she laughed, dashing to the side of the trail and scooping up two large handfuls of snow from under a tree. Falling back into line she placed the formidable amount of show under her chin so that she could split it in half and formed from the pile into two loose snowballs. What was the travel without a bit of fun to it? They were hurled separately, one nailing Gelan square in the back and shattering to snowy dust, the other would land in the back of Adaron's head, doing the same. Wicked gypsy. She looked wholly innocent.

Still Brage went on completely unaware that she has ran off. "Be it in driving rain or blinding snow or even total darkness, whether or not we can see, still we can step out the path again, without error. Elwydd wove this gift into the very fabric of Chakkacyth, for She knew without it, we could not dwell within the living stone. ---" Brage finally realized that she had ran off when he saw the two before him stuck with snowballs.

Gelan started visibly and turned abruptly, his eyes turning first to Leila, figuring it was her, but then his steel-gray gaze went to Brage, and remained there.

When the ball of snow hit the back of Adaron’s head he slowly came to a halt, remaining facing forward for but a moment before turning to stare as well at Brage. His expression stoic.

Brage's eyes widened and then narrowed, his hands planting firmly on his hips, feet spread, looking at the other two males in disbelief that they would accuse him over the Gypsy, who looked too innocent. When still they stared at him his hands lifted, palms up. "Well???"

A glance was given to Adaron before Gelan returned his eyes to Leila, and narrowed them. He would get her back later, and so, without a word, he turned and began striding down the path once more. They were, after all, in somewhat of a hurry.

Leila gave Gelan an innocent shrug before they continued on. She gave in to her musical bug, though this time she only hummed as they continued to walk. It seemed as though time stopped in the Everdark where there was never light of day nor complete dark of night. It was always the same, unchanging. It began to weigh on one's spirit after a while, but still as she hummed a smile remained upon her lips, content for the moment they were given.

With a clearing of his throat Brage continued as well. And when they had walked in silence, save for Leila's humming, for a while, out of nowhere he spoke up again. "It does not work on water, nor when Chakka are fevered."

Leila gave an exasperated groan before she just burst into laughter as they walked, shaking her head softly. The dwarf really didn't ever shut up did he?

Ahead, Gelan too chuckled at the sudden voicing of the Dwarf. Brage on the other hand, paid these laughs no heed, they were just so surprised--in his mind--that something like that would cause the Chakka not to remember their steps. But alas, it was true. "Aye...In boats, on barges, on rafts, or racked with ague, we are just as bewildered as other kind." His hand lifted to pat Leila's shoulder. But then he snorted and his hand fell. "I deem we also would be confused were we somehow conveyed through the air." And at last, Brage was finished. Though who could ever know when he would start up again.

And so then she spoke randomly. "I think that when I return home from this war I shall indulge a bit. I have every intention of taking meu amor e descascando o abaixo despido de modo que possa se banhar na lagoa com mim debaixo de um céu da lua cheia..." (Untranslated) a hearty laugh was given then, for she knew they had no idea what she would have said, nor did she have intention of translating for them. She continued: "E nós faremos o amor até que o sol se levante uma vez mais e nós retornarmos para casa, only para cair cansadamente na cama e para fazer uma vez o amor lentamente mais antes que nós durmamos..." she continued with a soft sigh. They knew not what she said, but it sounded beautiful.

Down along the old tradeway they strode, between the Quadrill and Greytower, and their pace was hard. Some twelve hours they tramped in all, and their path swung south around the flank of the moutain as they came at last down off the Pitch and out of the mouth of the Quadran. Finally they stopped to make camp and rest, again hidden in a grove of low pine. They had marched some twenty-five miles and were too weary to stride on.

~*~


Leila had fallen quickly asleep after her watch; for as it was custom, she had taken the first watch although Adaron had argued with her about it. Go figure that she won, even the elf was no match for her tenacity when she had her mind set on one thing. There was no dream at first, only darkness, but from within that darkness came a voice clear as though the speaker was standing right beside her when it spoke. The voice was not distinctively male nor female, but it was ethereal and soft.

"Fate...shhh, sir not child, your time is coming and there are things of which to you I must speak."

"Who are you" Leila asked aloud, though stirred not from her sleep.

"Ask me not questions. I have come as a messenger. I am sent by the one who sent you the dream of Othran's tomb. I am sent by the one you sent you your strange eyes. I am sent by the one you sent your strong spirit here to deliver the Midland from the darkness."

"If then you are sent as a messenger..." she whispered softly, "What message do you bring?"

"Child I bring you the message of hope and courage. Be ever brave. Still your fear, for no harm shall come to you this night, nor those which follow soon after, but upon the Darkest Day you shall not see the what your sacrifice hath gained. Freedom and light to all of Midland. This is your destiny as deemed by Adon himself. A vision too I bring you, ere I must depart...You will be frightened, child, but do not despair. Keep faith within your heart, selfless one. The fate of Midland rests within your hands…"

And as the timeless voice faded, darkness dissipated into light; a broken image moving swiftly. A tower, a drainage gate, three figures, and the Red Quarrel pulled and fired. Which figure it hit was not known. And then there was Leila, standing outside herself, without armor, holding an empty bow. She turned to face an unknown foe, and now the view was from within and she saw what hideous creature had come for her. The clash of swords...then the vision went red. A stabbing pain in her middle bringing forth such a great agony...

…That it rent from the sleeping gypsy a very real scream. Her heartbeat fluttered and breathing frantic. "So my fate has been determined..." she sobbed, seeking comfort from her arms wrapped 'round her, but the crying would not cease.

Gelan had been walking over to Adaron to wake him for his watch, the final watch, when Leila had started awake, sobbing. So though the other two woke up that very instant, he was the first to reach her and kneel beside her, wrapping one arm about her to comfort her. "What is it? What is it, Leila?" He coaxed softly.

She held her head in her hands and continued to cry, shaking, but she forced herself to look up at the High King. "'twas just a bad dream, my King," she fibbed. It really was, but she knew now what she must do, and it frightened her to no end. Her hands wiping away tears as she remained seated, pulling her knees to her chest and sniffling.

Adaron and Brage just stood before her, a few feet off, gazing down at her, finally Brage could do so. After a moment or two of standing there in silence, Adaron turned took up his post, leaving the three. With a grunt and a shake of his head about females, Brage returned to his bedroll, rubbing his eyes.

Leila laid back down but knew she would not be able to sleep. Once Gelan had fallen asleep, as had Brage she crept away a bit and crawled into a tree to sit and think. Her head resting on her knees as a sigh passed her lips. She saw Adaron below and frowned...knowing she would have to leave him.

Adaron sat quietly on his watch. He had noticed that the Gypsy had snuck away, also heard her. But he remained still. Though he thought that Leila should rest while she could, he knew that she had been bothered greatly by her dream just by watching her. He was not as easily fooled at Gelan, yet perhaps it had been about family. Either way, he would not question her about it, but wait, and if she chose to tell him, then she would.

After half an hour of sitting in the tree, Leila grew cold and dropped down, walking back to the camp and standing behind Adaron before she finally seated herself on a fallen log. Her voice was low when she spoke. "The fate of the Midland rests in the balance, Adaron," she said softly. "If we fail...all will be lost. I know this. I have heard voices. This is the second time, the first was back at Challerain. Not so much voices then, but a vision of Othran's tomb. I knew where to go and what I would find there. Again the visions came tonight, but this time there was a voice," her own cracked then and she lifted a hand to grasp the necklace she wore, her thumb rubbing over the words that had been nearly rubbed smooth from years of this nervous habit.

Adaron had looked over to her when she had sat. Silently he had listened to her while she had spoken, a dark brow arching only slightly and for but a moment. His hands came to clasp together before him. "This was your dream them?" He spoke just above a whisper, his voice clear and easily understood. He did not wish to wake the others who were resting peacefully.

She bowed her head then before she looked up at him. "I know the outcome of this war if we succeed, and you know well the outcome of the war if we lose. Either way, I know what I must do. Adaron..." she began, but could not finish her sentence, she just dropped her eyes from him and stared at the ground, taking in a deep breath and releasing it.

Though inwardly Adaron was slightly confused by her words, he did not show it upon his features. His ocean gaze did not lift from her when she had removed her eyes from him, but remained locked upon her. He was troubled by her demeanor, unsure of it. He was quiet after she had spoken, waiting for her to continue. When he knew that she would not, he spoke. "What is it that you must do?"

Another deep breath was taken before she looked up at him. "There was a reason you and Talar saved me that night," she said softly. "I am the one who must save the Midland. Your mother's words...'Seek the aid of those not men...' struck such a chord within me, and then this dream tonight. The one who spoke to me confirmed it." She shook her head. "I know you must not believe me, but what I speak is true. Adaron, you must swear to me that no matter what happens to me, know that it was meant to be."

Long did he stare at her, his gaze hard. During that time he said nothing. It was unclear in his facial expressions if he truly believed her or not. Abruptly he stood, his eyes casting to the ground for a moment before they lifted, and he walked a few steps away from her. His features were stoic, and this appearance was not intentional. It was who he was. He was not trying to hide anything from her. He had nothing to hide. His race did not think like that. But inside, his feelings were quite different.

She stood then and walked to stand behind him, a hand resting upon his shoulder. "Adaron, tell me your thoughts--and please, be honest and open for this brief moment. I can not..." her voice caught in her throat. "I can not promise you that you will always have the chance. There are dark days ahead...the darkest day still awaits us all."

The darkest day...Eiron...His brow furrowed ever so gently, as if trying to piece together a puzzle. "I only have to tell you what you already know. If there is a calling that reaches you, it must be followed above all. The feelings of others cannot sway that decision, for to allow such would mean certain failure." He was set in this. Above all, Adaron had a strong sense of duty, and knew when something had to be done, it had to be done.

She dropped her hand away from his shoulder and bowed her head, sighing softly. "Nothing would sway me from my mission, Adaron. I will not lie to you. I...I shall not be returning to Tel'Oira Eldamar. The visions were not perfectly accurate before, but I feel that this one, since it was brought by a messenger from Adon himself, bears more truth than I wish to confront. I pray you will not be so distant from me." Leila turned her back to him then, biting down hard on her lower lip to keep it from trembling. She was not going to cry again. She could not.

"I believe you, Leila. I believe all you have spoken to me." He turned then, now facing her back. Was he truly being distant? His jaw was tense, his lips tight. They parted, and he let out a loud breath. "I am filled with grief and I will not be able to bare it if...when..." Another breath, as his head turned to the side. "You should rest."

She turned to look at him over her shoulder, head bowing a bit as she looked at the ground and then up at him. "I have much to think about. Sleep will not return to me tonight. You may sleep the next couple of hours if you wish." A hand lifted and brushed the back of her hand against his cheek before she drew it away. "Do not grieve for me. I have not yet gone," she whispered.

What is a day? A week? A month? A year? A lifetime to Mankind? Naught but passing moments in the life of an Elf. No matter when her end came, sooner, or later, it was all too soon. A light grin, easily mistaken for a sneer, as was common among the Men, passed over his lips. His hand lifted to gently place over her palm, bringing her hand away from his face. "I will not rest. It is my watch. Perhaps sleep with come if you but give it a fair chance." Now his voice was a quiet as a whisper, yet a whisper it was not, and ever fluid.

She looked up to him then and forced herself to smile. "I will try then to sleep," Leila said softly, finally allowing her hand to drop to rest at her side. And with that she turned once more and went back to her bedroll, lying down and closing her eyes, for there were no stars to gaze upon and think. Her breathing would not slow however, showing that she was not sleeping still. Her thoughts whirled in her head, plans were made, alternate plans made, but so little could be put together in her mind with such a brief vision.

His shoulder rolled back, his body straightening. He watched her silently as she returned to her bedroll, his chin lifting ever so slightly. And though he knew she did not sleep, still he turned and went back to his watch; his mind filled with new thoughts and circumstances, not only straying to Eiron.

Perhaps half an hour later she sat up again and sighed irritably. She stood then and walked over to where Adaron was and sat down beside him. Her voice came in the form of a whisper. "I told you that I could not sleep. Still it alludes me, and I gave it more than a fair chance. I would rather share your company, but I can see that you are deep in thought, and I will not speak to disturb you...beyond this anyway."

Yet again: stoic was Adaron's expression before abruptly bursting into a wide grin, a soft, surprisingly melodic, airy, laugh escaping past his lips. His head shook, once. And still he appeared amused, his eyes closing for a brief moment before opening. "I do not mind your company, Leila. I only worry for your health. But if you cannot sleep, then you cannot sleep."

She looked up at him oddly that he had laughed, but then finally smiled herself because his laughter filled her heart with such joy that it practically bubbled in adoration of the elf that sat higher than she. A memory came to her then and she smiled to herself. "You were not so concerned with my health when you faked being unconscious in the forests of Olden Moor and then assaulted me in the snow." She had tried to keep her voice and expression firm when she said such, but it was a task she could not master and she had to look away to hide the shy smile upon her lips.

"Did I bring harm to you? Were you injured?" He shook his head. "No. Your argument is not valid." And that was that. He seemed as though he had said his bit and was finished. But suddenly he started up again, his cobalt gaze snapping to her, in an accusing way, yet far from it. "And need I remind you that you first attacked me?" Both brows rose for a moment as he leaned back away from her; quite pleased with his defense. Then, as was his trademark, his chin lifted to gaze down at her, before that sneer of a grin slithered over his lips once more.

She laughed softly then and shook her head. "Yes...I suppose I did. It seems I am always beating up on you, Fair Adaron. Even the first night we met when Duila pushed me and we both topped into the snow...to that little...ahem scene, and then in your room at the castle. It always seems that I am the one that starts it." She scolded herself and shook her head, though she still grinned. How she loved him, everything about him, even that arrogant lift of his chin, and how she wished to let all of those words spill from her lips, but she could not.

"Seems? I do not believe it is just an appearance." Silently he rose from his seated position to his feet and began a heel to toe walk about the perimeters of their camp. Arms lifted to fold low on his chest. He did not wish to be away from her nor did he make something of that like evident. He was simply making a round. And though it would go unnoticed, he did watch her in his peripheral vision.

"Not to mention on the way to this camp the snowball you got in the back of your head," she said, making it appear that it was more to herself than to him. She giggled. "And you thought you were safe, for there was no snow in our path, and still I found a way to cause trouble, only to have it blamed on the poor drimma." She rested her head then on her knees, feeling his gaze upon her, but she would not turn around to look at him, although it took a good deal to just accept that he was behind her and not turn.

"Drimm." He corrected, spinning about on one foot to face her fully, arms dropping limp to his sides. "Drimma is plural and would translate to Dwarves." His round completely, again a light grin coiled at the corners of his lips. But it had faded by the time he had reached her and had sat down next to her once more.

"Right, of course. Speaking of lessons in elvish...the other night..." she blushed furiously. "You know of what I speak. What did you say to me?"

Adaron’s gaze fell to the snow at their feet. He did remember, he remembered well. It had only been a short time before the untimely sending of Eiron's Death Rede that he had spoken to her in the language of his Kith. "You seemed to have caught onto our language well. And of that I was surprised, for it is most difficult to many. With all that I have hear from you, the other evening's included, I would have thought you would have understood my words." But then his attention returned to her and a smile flashed, pearly whites shown for but a second. "Perhaps there is more studying to be done."

She narrowed her eyes to him, her voice lowering. "I know some of the words you speak, but I do not wish to presume what you said. I was asking for a clarification in case I did not hear you properly." She said, looking to him now with all seriousness. Perhaps she needed to hear that her ears were not faulty and that he had really spoken to her what she had wished for since the moment they met.

Though Adaron did not look to the starless and Moonless sky, he knew at all times where they stood in. He did not have the time to speak to her of it now. "I must wake the others, for it is time that we again continue our tread," he said almost regretfully. He did want to tell her.

She groaned in frustration and dropped her head between her knees giving an irritated laugh before she stood and went to her bedroll. She would allow Adaron to wake Brage, but for the nonce she rested her hand upon Gelan's stomach as it rose and fell in his sleep. "Wake now, my King. We must continue on."

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  • The four bear south to Galion Forest -- Leila, Adaron, Gelan, & Brage, 18:58:36 04/19/03 Sat
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