Archives: Search for Azala
Chapter 8: Orion and Kitsa
Kitsa brought Orion down the hall until she came across the room number that matched the key. After unlocking the door, Kitsa opened it up and stepped aside to let him pass.
“Thank you,” Orion said softly as he passed her into the room. It wasn’t too bad of a set up, considering how often he did not even have a bed. The silver-haired elf seemed to float across the room as he came to the closest bed and, with all of the care of a mother for a babe, laid her on the bed. He adjusted her to lay on her side. There were rumors of people who killed themselves somehow by laying on their backs after passing out. Certainly, he would not be faulted for laying her down the wrong way. The slight fingers of his hand pulled her bangs away from her face and behind her ear.
“I shall sit with her,” he said, feeling strangely responsible for her.
Kitsa watched Orion closely, her head cocked to the side curiously. The way he cared for Air seemed quite paternal in Kitsa’s eyes. The quarter elf straightened and smiled softly. “I shall sit with you as well then,” Kitsa said and sat on the other bed.
She was silent for a moment, but she broke it by decided to speak her mind. “You seemed very father like in the way you laid her down,” she stated. Kitsa wasn’t normally so blunt, but she far too curious to see how he would react to such a comment.
“I had a good teacher,” Orion replied, his eyes not moving from the sleeping form of Air. “I once wished to be just like him and raise a family.” The echoes of childhood hung in the air around his heart, threatening ti swallow him whole. The wonderful times he repressed, the suffering that stealing them away caused, and the end of his last hope for a relationship’s death swirled around him, suffocating his potential for love. “Those dreams in me are not yet dead.”
She looked so peaceful, despite her rather outrageous arrival into that state. His heart lurched, as if Air was his own daughter, to guide and help through the world. Perhaps this was how it felt with those who gained child through orphanages, though they were rare. Though she had others around her, Orion felt that he was the only one who could look after her as a father could. Certainly, the high elves would not. As for the others, they viewed her as a friend. Of them all, Orion felt to be the most responsible. He couldn’t help but feel even more so for the half-elf girl before him. She seemed so fragile.
Perhaps its source lay in a hidden sense of camaraderie or his desire to fulfill the hole that a family would fill in his life, but, no matter the reason, Air was more than a charge to him. She was like a daughter, though he barely knew her. When he decided to help Seri, he did it for the mission. When he got to know Kitsa some, it became about seeing someone who saw beyond his silence. Now, it was about protecting those who needed it most. It seemed so simple now, but, to his logic, it could make no sense.
Kitsa watched Orion intently, almost baffled by how emotional the pale elf had become. What he said struck her deeply as well. ‘Those dreams in me are not yet dead.’ Not that Kitsa had even considered fulfilling those dreams after meeting him so soon, but it taunted her feminine nature. A man who wanted to be a father. Well, that thought could be pushed aside for a better time.
The quarter elf reached out and placed her hand on his. Her dusky skin was a stark contrast to his moon-white hand. “I am pleased to hear you have not given up on such a dream,” she said softly. “You have some hope then, to find a woman you can trust?”
“Trust...?” Orion muttered in a daze, almost as if he was confused. It confused him because he had already forgotten that he was seeking it. Like it had already been fulfilled somehow. “Oh... trust, yes...” He was agile on his feet, but not with his heart. He was sure that much was clear.
“What of you?” he ventured, coming out of his haze.
“I...don’t know. I have kept myself apart from humans, for the fear of marrying a man and outliving him. My father was a half-elf, and married a human before my mother. He outlived her, and their children, and it devastated him. He only allowed himself to give in to my mother because he assumed he was near the end of his life,” Kitsa explained. It was getting a little far from her personal goals, but she wanted so badly to tell someone about her dear father. “He told me that I may live as long as three hundred years, and I am a hundred and ten now. I suppose I would like to marry and have children some day. I also worry that if I marry an elf, that he would suffer the same way my father did with his human wife.”
“...suffer?” Orion muttered. He paused, as if contemplating her words. “It is an unavoidable part of life. I know this.” He looked over to Kitsa. “I believe that, if you were in my place now, you would say that you might consider letting the person choose whether or not that life is acceptable, instead of constructing a wall to block the experience of love out for fear of its consequences. It is similar to what you have taught me. Perhaps the question should remain: What kind of suffering is worse? Expressing and enjoying love and then losing it to memory or suffering loneliness for your entire life, with love always but inches from your reach?”
Orion nodded, as if to pat himself on the back. It sounded right. It sounded... like someone who cared. This caring was something he felt, but it was hard to break common practice. Words were chosen carefully. “For a long time, I was like that. I sealed myself away to hide from others, preferring to dwell in my loneliness. But then someone came along and taught me the value of a companion,” he said, looking back up to her. “And, even if that person dies or I die, I think the other would rather we known each other than to have never met at all.”
Oh Marfa, he is talking about me! Kitsa thought after his last comments. Her dusky cheeks darkened with a blush, but then the quarter-elf chuckled nervously and looked down at sleeping Air. “You are right,” Kitsa replied, avoiding his eyes after she had embarrassed herself. “Though in all my one hundred and ten years, I have not fallen in love and tested my resolve to those theories. No one has yet to capture my heart.” But someone is certainly on the right path to do so, she added silently in her thoughts.
Orion’s stone heart hung low. No one? Perhaps he was expecting too much too quickly. Give it more time, he thought. Orion didn’t know how she felt about him, but he knew that Kitsa was the only woman he had met in his years that touched something deeper than his stoic attitude. Already, he couldn’t imagine walking alone anymore. In this, Orion amazed himself. He had never thought anyone could do what she did to him.
“Time will tell,” Orion said slowly. “Surely, someone as beautiful and kind as you will find a deserving soul that will make you feel as if you could float through the air as Sylph does. When that happens, every flower will bloom for you and the fairies will celebrate it. Even Ento, the great king of spirits, will smile for you. Of that much, I am certain.” He nodded, as if to put a period on his statement.
“The others downstairs are probably wondering what is taking us so long,” he said, changing the subject quickly. Orion was feeling a bit shaky, since he had been so bold without even considering it. Was he too pushy? This was so hard. His head hung back to Air, as Kitsa had done herself. It signified the end of a moment. It wasn’t quite a rejection, but it wasn’t quite acceptance either. “Someone should stay with her, but it would be unwise for either of us to miss a meal.”
Kitsa noticed that Orion seemed a little crestfallen. Had he taken her comment the wrong way? She certainly liked him, but she had only known him for two days. There was no trying to fix what she said without making the situation worse, but she did mean it.
“I will ask a barmaid to bring us dinner,” Kitsa replied. She smiled a little, hoping to make him feel better with her next comment. “I like spending time with you, and I think we would both be comfortable around fewer people and less drama.”
“This is true. I think I would prefer to stay up here as well,” Orion responded with a slight smile. He wouldn’t tie her down with conversation, since she said she was going to run downstairs and back...
Kitsa stepped out of the room and hurried downstairs to place their orders for dinner. The barmaids would bring the meals up to them. She requested a loaf of bread and water for Air as well, to settle her stomach if she needed it when she woke. For herself and Orion, she requested a bottle of red wine.
Air rolled over in her sleep. “...no I don’t have change for a silver...” she mumbled groggily. “...mommy...I miss you...” she whimpered, her body curling into the fetal position. She tucked her head against her knees but continued to sleep.
The silver-haired elf leaned forward and pulled the thread bare sheet over Air’s body, tucking it lightly underneath her chin. “Sleep in peace,” he whispered as his soft hand ran over her cheek. Orion could remember when he was a boy that his mother would say that every night and run her hand over his cheek. Perhaps Air was too old for such things, but it felt right. He sat back on the other bed in silence, wondering what was to become of her next...
Kitsa returned upstairs a short while later with a tray. The inn had food hot and waiting, so there was no need for her to wait for it to cook. Two plates of warm food and a bottle of wine for herself and Orion, and a small loaf of bread and big mug of water for Air.
The quarter elf opened the door with one hand, slipped inside, then bumped it closed with her hip. She gave a broad grin to Orion, then noticed that Air had curled up into a fetal position where Kitsa had been sitting before she left. “Did she wake?” Kitsa asked as she brought the tray over to the nightstand.
“No,” he whispered back. “She tossed a bit,” Orion said, staring at the sleeping girl. He left out her whisperings, which he hoped she stopped from there on, just so as her inner wishes and sadnesses remained her own. Kitsa would probably keep it to herself, as Orion would, but it was probably best if Air chose who she ended up sharing her feelings to.
“Thank you...” he stumbled as the tray arrived. Truth be told, the silver elf was a bit mesmerized by how the red material of her skirt seemed to chase her around on the wings of the inn air. It fit her just so. “For the dinner, I mean,” Orion sputtered, attempting to recover from his rather obvious staring.
Kitsa couldn’t help but smile at Orion fumbling with his words. “You are welcome,” she replied warmly as she filled a goblet of wine for the both of them. She re-corked the bottle, not intending to drink more than they needed to wash down their food. After passing a goblet to Orion, she took her plate and drink over to the same side of the bed he was sitting on and sat across from him at the foot of the bed. With nothing to be said, she began to eat eagerly. It had been a goodly bit of time since their last meal in the afternoon.
True to his appearance, Orion did not dig in, but did his best to maintain table manners on the bed. He sat upright and never took a very large bite of the meal. In the back of his mind, Orion was wondering whether Kitsa appreciated sophistication. Constantly, he stole glances at her from his meal when he thought she was focusing on her food. It wasn’t something he could help. Even if he tried, there was no doubt that he couldn’t avoid looking at her.
What could they talk about? Was there something to say? What was she interested in? Work was not a valid topic, Orion decided. What else? Many of his topics were exhausted already, but the idea of sitting in silence helped nothing! His brain fluttered with thoughts to share, but none of them sounded like good discussion topics.
Orion had a tendency to tap his feet when he got nervous or without answer. And off his tapping foot went...
Air coughed and rolled over. Her head was pounding but at least she wasn’t unconscious any longer. “Shut up,” she growled. “The silence is deafening.” She wasn’t about to open her eyes to the pain of any light, she was at least smart enough to avoid further pain to her already aching head.
Orion bit his lip rather quickly at Air’s rather unsophisticated choice of words and worse yet, her contradiction. Be quiet, because the silence is deafening? The male caretaker for the girl didn’t really know how to respond to that, nor what to do for her in that case. Perhaps she was experiencing pain? Yes, that was probably it, considering all of the alcohol she took in. But Orion knew nothing of how to solve that. He hated that feeling of being unable to solve an issue. He looked up to Kitsa with a confused look upon his face; it was something he had never expressed since he had joined the group, so it looked odd on him, who always seemed so sure and calculated about himself and his actions.
Kitsa was surprised at the sudden awakening of Air. “How are you feeling?” she asked tenderly, attempting to keep the volume down so that the hung-over half-elf’s headache wasn’t agitated. “Would you like to be alone?”
“Ugh,” Air muttered. “My brain is too big and my skull is too small. Only one way to medicate the headache is to continue drinking. I’m not usually such a feather-weight...must be that my tolerance has worn off...” She reached into her shirt and undid the knot binding her chest. “Who all is here in this room with me? Am I in jail?”
“It is just I, Orion, and Kitsa,” Orion’s smooth, low voice said. His naturally fluid voice was always gentle upon the ears, since Orion never spoke loudly. His natural speaking range made even shouting lower than expected. “You are in a bed at the inn.”
Kitsa frowned when Air said she should keep drinking. “I do not think continuing would be wise. You did not eat before you drank, which may be why you were such a...‘feather-weight’. I brought you some bread and water. It should be easy on your stomach,” the quarter-elf explained. “When you are feeling better, I will get you more dinner, but no more booze.” She raised her finger at her last comment, chastising Air.
“Dinner good,” Air grunted. “So there are three people other than me? You, Orion, and Kitsa...makes sense...who’s you?”
Kitsa chuckled at Air. “Oh, do not tease poor Orion!” Kitsa chastised again, but she was still smiling. She passed the bread to Air and left the water mug in her reach on the nightstand. “Eat a little of this, and I will bring you a meal.”
While invisible to Air and Kitsa, Orion was relieved that their charge was doing better. It was comforting to him that nothing came of the tirade. Of course, he had no complaints with getting to sit with Kitsa, in some sense, alone for a while. In the end, he was partly glad that Air woke up. For the last few moments, he had felt his throat tightening up as silence hung over them. She was just the thing to break that uneasiness, though not necessarily in a positive way.
Air ate the food with renewed vigor, and looked to Kitsa to go get her more. She chugged down the water and shot a look to Orion. “So, whacha in here for? Didja steal some crusts from the missus and she forced you to look after poor little me?”
“I came by choice,” Orion responded. His voice was quiet and low. “The others expressed no interest in taking care of you, so I lost patience with them and did so myself. I carried you here and thereby accepted responsibility for you.”
Air’s cheeks flushed with color. “Well isn’t that sweet of you?” She gave a half-smile and touched her lips softly with her fingertip, tracing the outskirts of her mouth to check for drool. While Orion wasn’t her kind of person, she was one to be more preoccupied with her own vain pursuits of beauty. She licked her fingertips and combed her fingers through her bangs to straighten them out.
Orion did not how to respond to such a woman. Better to keep silent, he decided. To Air, he gave a nod of respect, as if to accept her indirect thanks for his assistance. “Would you like to be left alone, Miss Air?”
She was slightly startled. Orion had just spoken up, and the action caught Air in the midst of grooming her bangs. She peered at him with her mismatched eyes. “Just Air,” she spoke softly. “And you can leave if you want to, I’m alright.”
“I just inferred that you might wish your privacy for dinner... Air...” Orion said, nearly calling her “Miss Air” yet again. That was not the real reason. Perhaps Air would be embarrassed from being cared for while being drunk.
Kitsa stood with her plate and goblet in hand while Air and Orion talked. “If you are well, we will let you be,” Kitsa said. Placing her goblet on her plate, she lightly grabbed Orion’s wrist and tugged him toward the door.
“The decision has been made,” Orion muttered to himself. Apparently, Kitsa didn’t have much interest in offering the girl a choice in company or not. Perhaps she had little interest in supplying it, as Orion rarely did himself. No matter the reason for her interest in leaving, he accepted. “If you need anything, you may send for us,” Orion said finally as he opened the door and ushered Kitsa through as a noble would to the woman he courted. Picking up his tray gracefully in one hand, he closed the door gently behind him.
Kitsa waited outside Air’s door. Orion seemed a little frustrated with Kitsa’s decision to leave, but she assumed that Air wanted to be left alone. Maybe she was mistaken, but it was a little late to change her mind and maintain her grace. “Do you want to finish our meal alone, or should we join Seri?” she asked.
Orion thought on that. In all honesty, Orion had no interest in spending time with Seri or anyone downstairs. Kitsa was the only person he traveled with that inspired any camaraderie at all. But, on the other hand, what would Seri think of him avoiding others any more than he already did? It was activity that he himself might see as suspect, despite what Orion felt appeared to them to be loyalty to her cause. Would she think something odd was going on between them? That wouldn’t do at all.
“Perhaps... the calmness of the upstairs is more pleasant.” Seri could think what she liked. If the high elf had half as much intelligence as her race was expected to, she would not assume the worst from an already cloistered individual. “If you are in no rush to return to the bustle that awaits us below, this may be an opportune time to find a bit of peace.”
The quarter-elf gave a nod, and she still had a faint blush on her dusky cheeks. “As you wish,” she said kindly. She entered one of the nearby rooms that Mirael and Seri had paid for. It had two beds, so it was either intended for Seri and Mirael, or two of the four men.
Kitsa sat down on one of the beds and started eating again. She was nearly done with her meal, so she was in a hurry to get the rest of the food down and enjoy Orion’s company.
Orion followed Kitsa’s lead, though she might not have even noticed his movements had she not have known he was there already. His footsteps seemed so light that no twig would be strained by their pressure. Perhaps he appeared more fittingly as a wraith or spirit from the beyond than a mortal of her own world. Where her colors were lively, his were quiet and subdued. Kitsa was a burning candle and Orion an untouched bed of snow.
With Orion came the silence that followed him. Wherever he went, so did a wave of quiet. He did nothing to make noise, nor did he speak to break silences. Thus, he had made a tradition out of it. To someone unaccustomed to traveling alone for months at a time, such serenity served only to private frustration and discord, where to Orion it meant a golden calm.
Tonight, however, Orion was not interested in seeking a rare bit of unmoving serenity, as he would when traveling through a city. Tonight, he would have rathered the heavy silence dragged away in chains, to be replaced with the soothing sounds of his companion’s voice. But that was not happening. Kitsa had not spoken up about something and Orion was horrible at starting a conversation. What should he say or ask? Would it be too forward to ask something about her life, interests, or goals? Was the discussion to turn inward on himself or would that be far too egotistical to consider? Neither option encouraged him. A neutral topic would have to do, he supposed. But what kind of topic was to be used? There was a blooming garden full of options, but none of them seemed colorful enough to encourage more than a passing comment or two. His thoughts made him focus far harder on his meal than was humanly necessary.
A tiny bead of sweat slid down the back of his neck, running into the cloth of his jacket. Why did Kitsa shake him up so? Why couldn’t he just speak? Orion swallowed down a piece of bread harder than need be. Orion sighed and banished his whirling thoughts and decided to just say something: “How is your meal?”
Kitsa smiled and replied as she set her plate aside, “It is fine.” It was a simple response, and she was rather unsure of how to strike up a new conversation with him. She wanted to talk and get to know the pale elf, but there was nothing that seemed comfortable to say. The awkward silence was unbearable. Kitsa just looked down at her lap and blushed in embarrassment and frustration.
Orion sighed, brushing a few silver strands from his face. When she looked down, he looked up. Her cheeks were getting red. Orion didn’t think it was that cold, so what reason would her cheeks have to change that color? Did he perhaps embarrass her somehow? What had he done do make her head hang so? Did he ruin her appetite?
Damn it you fool! he thought in frustration. How many years have you lived, and yet you cannot speak to a woman? He bit his bottom lip and pushed away his tray. Though her eyes hung downwards, he could still see their color, their life, almost out of sight. Her uniquely warm red eyes glimmered against his own cool blue eyes, which, for once, he chose not to hide.
Before Orion would allow himself to consider his words, he spoke. “Kitsa... I... Uhh...”
Kitsa lifted her eyes from under her thick, dark lashes to meet Orion’s gaze. He was so shy and nervous, but she knew he felt something for her. They were at a loss for words, but maybe they could let their actions speak instead?
Kitsa’s red eyes lightened just a bit from her mischievous idea, and before Orion could finish the sentence he was trying so hard to speak, the exotic quarter elf pushed herself off her bed, effectively throwing herself at Orion. She wrapped her arms around his chest, under his own arms, then pressed her lips to his as they fell back on the bed he was sitting on.
Before he could think, Kitsa was in his arms. And, for the first time in his life, Orion let go. The inn fell away, leaving behind his responsibilities to Seri and the innocent Air. There was only Kitsa. He too fell backwards on the bed with her in his arms. His gentle fingers weaved into her lush black hair as his own lips opened to hers. The sky blue eyes, once cold and empty, disappeared underneath his eyelids. His lips, however, were anything but cold.
Orion inhaled deeply with his nose as their lips locked, breathing in the warmth that had been lost to him. His heart shuddered in excitement. He kissed her with the sweet gentle passion that Orion never knew he had. Her perfection wee overwhelming to him. All of his senses screamed with ecstasy.
Slowly, they broke away, but only inches from each other’s face. Orion exhaled from all of the exhilaration. Orion stared into her eyes, unable to pull away. Orion, the pale elf, blushed bright red. He smiled slightly, unable to hide the new life she breathed into him. “... love you...” he whispered.
Quite pleased with Orion’s reaction, Kitsa began to smile as they pulled back from each other. Her eyes had taken on a brighter gold color to show her happiness, but when he said ‘love’, her expression went blank for a moment. It felt wonderful to hear, but it was also a little troubling at the same time.
He loves me? Oh, this is too soon! I can’t stand to break his heart by telling him I don’t, but if I lie, it will do worse! Kitsa quickly considered her options, and tried not to let her thoughts affect her face. Instead of saying anything, she kissed him again, hiding her indecision with passion. Bringing her hands up from under him, she brought even more to the kiss by running her fingers across his cheek and long elven ear.
Orion accepted her passions, returning everything back in full. There was a fullness he felt; it had been so long since he had felt complete as he did then. For all of his life, he had been consumed with what was missing in his life. Now, his mind could only comprehend the new life that had replaced his void.
The second kiss broke away with Kitsa still fallen atop Orion. The sound of someone walking down the hall caught his keen, ranger ears. His eyes glanced over at the door, reminded immediately of where they were. If dinner was to end soon downstairs, then the others would come up. They were supposed to be taking care of Air, not... kissing?
“Perhaps we should...” Orion found himself unable to complete the sentence. He didn’t even want to hear the rest of it come out of his mouth...
Kitsa slipped off Orion and laid on the bed next to him. Her head still rested on his shoulder and her leg lay over his. The quarter elf twirled a lock of his silken silver hair around her fingers, enjoying the cool, smooth feeling of elven hair. “Should what?” she asked, though it seemed obvious what he meant. He was anxious, probably afraid of someone walking in on them. “Stop? There are no taboos against mercenaries kissing,” she continued with a giggle.
“No, there isn’t,” Orion said with a smile, “but we came up here to take care of Air, not... uhhh... well, you know.” He could imagine Seri or, worse, Estas, explaining to him that he wasn’t welcome if he intended to womanize. This entire woman thing was so strange to him that it even struck him as odd that he would remember the word.
“We cared for Air until she was well, that was all we needed to do,” Kitsa replied. The quarter-elf sat up, leaning over Orion. With a smile on her lips, she reached up to run her fingertip along the side of his face and down his jawline. “You are too concerned with the opinions of others,” she added and leaned down to kiss him again.
“But I-” Orion was cut off by Kitsa’s lips, which was acceptable for him. Her silky lips and gentle perfection made him want to melt into passion and freeze in fear at the same time. She was perfect. The question was if he was anywhere near her. He might have been considered refined, but a match for something like her? She could put the spirit of any wildflower to shame; Orion, on the other hand, had hair the color of an old man. What was she doing with someone like him?
“I suppose this is pretty natural... High Elves should understand natural...” Orion sputtered. His cheeks grew red like a tomato in an unprecedented level of color for a man whose face was as white as his shirt...
Estas went to the room he had been assigned, feeling the need to escape from the conversations regarding his lost love, and unfortunately for Kitsa and Orion, that was the very room they had chosen. The high elf stepped into room, completely unprepared for what was waiting him there. He had been looking at the floor when he stepped in, but the contrast of white and red on the drab bedding caught his eye. Looking up, his eyes fell on Kitsa leaning over Orion, and Orion’s cheeks were flushed with color. Estas’s expression was blank, but after the thoughts he had just been entertaining, the last thing he wanted to see was a happy couple. Especially one that involved an elf and a girl who was nearly full human.
However, elven composure easily won out over his frustration. “I hope I am not interrupting,” he said to the pair.
Orion’s heart didn’t skip a beat. It stopped. Estas’ face hit him like a battering ram and Orion could not stand up to its force. “I uhh... This isn’t...” he sputtered. “I’m sure this looks bad, but...” Orion shook his head, looking for words that could magically save him. No spell would come to mind. “... its not...?” he finished, as if he wasn’t even sure about what little he could manage to say.
Kitsa sat up straight and planted her fists on her hips. “And why can it not be what it looks like?” she asked Orion. She was a little upset that he would try and deny it after what they talked about. With a sigh, she slipped off the bed. “You are not interrupting sir. I should go to bed,” Kitsa said to Estas respectfully. She headed for the door, and Estas stepped aside for her. Pausing, she looked back at Orion, and gave him a wink to show him she wasn’t too angry, “Good night, Orion.”
Estas shut the door after Kitsa and avoided looking at Orion’s shameful face. He felt jealous, but it was irrational, and he just continued with the business of preparing for bed. No doubt Orion had some bumbling apology.
Orion fell back against the bed when Kitsa left. Orion wasn’t sure he wanted to open up his mouth anymore. He didn’t want to move at all. He wished the spirits of invisibility would just consume him and carry him into their world. At this point, Orion felt his fate sealing. Kitsa sounded displeased. Estas looked displeased. If it wasn’t for the afterglow of the euphoric experience he had shared, he would be wondering if any good came of it at all. “If you wish for me to depart your cause, I will leave immediately,” Orion said calmly, as he normally spoke. His voice had the tone of a man about to be executed: shameful, but not afraid.
“There is no reason for you to leave,” Estas replied, but his eyes were focused on the buttons of his jacket. It was awkward for him, and he wished Orion would just drop the subject and go to sleep. So, to make sure of that, he would have to make certain Orion understood that he wasn’t offended. “I do not believe you are as irresponsible as Azala, and if you and Kitsa generally love each other, it is not my place to stand in the way. Just be wary that Seri may feel awkward around lovers, given her situation. She has been quite irrational through her pregnancy,” Estas explained as he removed his jacket and boots. I hope that is enough for him.
“I will be very sensitive of this,” Orion said after a moment and rolled over on the bed. Though neither knew it, they were in agreement. Orion just wanted to hide. So much so that he muttered a quick call to his favorite spirits and invisibility wrapped around him. All Estas could see was the imprint he made on the bed he had apparently decided sleep on that night. He didn’t move again.
Estas saw Orion hide, and said nothing. He merely continued his preparations for bed, then climbed under the covers. The young elf—young in Estas’s perspective at least—seemed quite ashamed of being discovered. At least sharing a room with Orion was preferable to sharing a room with Phaeton, or the half-elf boy who mistook him for Azala.
Sairina followed Luria to their shared room. While the half-elf seemed very tired and maybe a little drunk, the priestess was as graceful as ever. She sat down at the vanity in the room and began to meticulously take off her jewelry and let down her hair. “I am so glad we can sleep in beds tonight!” she said to Luria, recalling how cramped her tent had been while they were on the road.
Kitsa suddenly burst into the room, walking like she was floating on a cloud. “Good evening,” she greeted Sairina and Luria with an irrepressible grin on her face.
“Oh boy, have you got it right,” Luria replied to Sairina. She raised an eyebrow slightly as Kitsa came in. “Well I’ll be! What are you all smiles about?” she asked. Not that Luria was especially perceptive, but Kitsa seemed unusually happy.
Kitsa sat down on one the beds, still beaming a smile. “I broke through Orion’s icy defenses and melted his heart,” she said with a giggle.
Sairina turned on the stool she was sitting on and regarded Kitsa curiously. “And just what do you mean by that?” she asked.
Luria was suddenly awake again. “Hoboy, you better spill it!” she exclaimed, flopping over on her stomach, turned towards Kitsa attentively. “Whatever you did, I hope it took the stick out of that guy’s ass, for all our sakes!” Not that Orion’s stiffness hadn’t helped them out a few times, she remembered, but it didn’t hurt to be more friendly.
Kitsa chuckled at Luria’s comment. “I hope so, and I hope it has done more than that,” she replied. “When he and I went to take care of Air, we were able to talk while she slept. He spoke as if he had become attracted to me. Air woke up, and she seemed well, so we went to one of the other rooms to speak privately. After eating dinner, there was such an awkward silence, so I just kissed him!” Kitsa’s mood suddenly shifted from excited to pensive, and her eyes reflected the change, shifting from the bright gold they had been to a more broodish shade of red. “He said he loved me, but I do not feel the same. At least not yet. I could love him, I think, but at the moment, I feel only affection. I gave him no answer; I fear that if I lie and never do love him, then it would only give him another reason to stop trusting.”
Luria listened to the story and was utterly stumped. “Poor guy just doesn’t know what to do with himself, it sounds like. I would... hmm, what would I do?” she stopped for a moment and rubbed her chin. “This could make for very awkward traveling, I’ll tell you that much. You definitely shouldn’t lie, that’s asking for bad luck. I’m thinking, he might not really love you for true, either. He just has never had any friends and kissing him got him all confused. It would be better for both of you to approach slowly, but he may not understand that.” Then, she shook her head abruptly as if all of this thinking was giving her a headache. “I don’t know really, I just read that in some kind of horoscope.”
Kitsa nodded. It was good advice, but she realized that her heart was starting to lean closer to love. “I want to see him open up, just a bit, just live a little more,” Kitsa thought aloud.
“Well, I wouldn’t mind having my own handsome elf as well,” Sairina said with a small laugh as she made her way to the empty bed. “But Luria, what about you and Phaeton? He certainly seems to be taken with you.” The priestess laid on her stomach across her bed, lounging casually.
“Takin’ with me where?” Luria answered, obliviously.
Sairina was taken aback by Luria’s obliviousness for a moment. “He’s attracted to you,” she explained.
Luria blinked twice and then shrugged. “Nah... he’s just really friendly, right? We’ve only known each other for a few days!” She suddenly became nervous and jittery because this sort of thing had never happened to her before. “I don’t think I feel that way about him, but I really wouldn’t know, I mean I never—uh...” she stopped abruptly and giggled nervously. “Am I the only one who doesn’t notice this stuff?”
“I...well...” Sairina stammered awkwardly. Luria’s question was a little hard to answer without potentially offending her. “I’m sure you’ll notice tomorrow now that you know what to look for,” the priestess replied.
* * *
With the help of a maid, Y’ezela found the room she would share with Air and knocked on the door. “Air, may I come in?” she asked the through the door.
Air ate her food while she was alone, making sure to lick the plate clean. When the knock came at the door and Y’ezela’s voice came through the young half-elf called out in response: “Enter.”
Y’ezela entered and greeted her half-sister with a smile. “Are you feeling better?” she asked as she busied herself with putting away her belongings.
“I’m fine,” Air replied calmly. The young half-elf laid back on the bed and looked over to her elder sister. “There are many things I can handle, liquor is one of them, but usually only after I’ve been heavily drinking over the course of a week. It also helps to have a little food in the belly to absorb the alcohol.” She rolled over on her side. “Ugh...I ate too fast.”
Y’ezela was worried about Air’s drinking habits, but the bard was a bit of a teetotaler herself. It wasn’t her place to state that opinion either. Concerned for her sister’s well-being, Y’ezela sat beside Air on her bed and put her hand on Air’s shoulder. “Would you like anything to calm your stomach?”
Air shook her head. “Naw, I’m good. It’s just a little stomach cramp.” She gave a wholehearted smile and looked away from her sister, her mismatched eyes searching for something to focus on. “...when we meet him...” she paused and shook her head. “I’m sorry for before. Claiming your mother that is.” Air sighed. “Ever since I was little I was raised by my uncle and aunt, and I didn’t have a mother of my own. She died while giving birth to me, which as I understand isn’t so uncommon. My uncle is a half-elf too, although I’m pretty sure he has absolutely no relation to me, other than through my aunt who was my mother’s sister.”
“I’m not offended,” Y’ezela replied with a smile. She took Air’s hands and held them tight, conveying all her affection through the grasp. “I understand how lost you must have felt, and I always wanted a sister or brother. I wasn’t upset with you when we met, I was just a little hurt on realizing Lanir was my brother. I...was a little attracted to him, you see,” she blushed shamefully as she spoke the last sentence, avoiding Air’s eyes. It seemed so wrong now that she knew, but it was for the best.
“There’s always incest,” Air joked, giving her half-sister’s hands a little squeeze. “Or getting totally drunk and just doing it with your inhibitions thrown to the wind.” She gave a soft sincere smile, despite her joking before hand. “I’m sure he was/is attracted to you as well.”
Y’ezela’s blush certainly didn’t go away, but she realized Air was only joking. “My dear sister, you have a mercenary’s sense of humor!” she giggled.
“I’ve been told worse,” Air said with a small smile. “Usually after my partner was sexually spent.” She half-smiled and stared off, her hand migrating to the ring she wore at her neck.
Virginal Y’ezela was quite uncomfortable with Air’s stories, but she smiled shyly in response. She was half afraid of hearing the story about the ring Air was playing with. “I should go to bed. Tomorrow Seri wants us to try and find more of our potential siblings here in Shuva, and any information on Azala.”
“Alright then,” Air stated softly. “‘Night then.” She crawled back under the covers and slipped out of her clothes, dropping them off on the left side of the bed. “Sleep well,” she said sweetly as she slipped her knife, sheathed, under her pillow. Her fingers entwined around the hilt as a child’s fingers would wrap around a doll, semi-lovingly, and with careful strokes of the binding, she soothed herself to sleep.
