Chapter 2
The next day passed much like the day before, but with a few changes. The dark elf had weakened even more as he refused Mistale's offer of food and water. She boiled a piece of meat to make a broth, holding a cup to his lips. He gathered what little strength he had left to knock the cup away, sloshing warm broth all over her hand.
"Don't be stupid!" Mistale pleaded with him. "Don't you want to live? Is life so horrible for you that you'd willingly choose death? Let me help you!"
She pried his jaw open and slowly poured the broth into his mouth, massaging his throat to make him swallow. She shoved a berry or two in and coaxed him to chew. She sighed as he swallowed willingly and pointed to the waterskin. She brought it to him, holding it to his lips, and let him drink his fill.
He closed his eyes and relaxed against the blankets he lay upon. Perhaps being waited upon by a female wasn't so bad after all, but he'd never let her know that.
And at twilight, she joined him under the blankets, lending her body heat to his to create a nest of warmth. She once again sought her reverie and hoped that the following day would be better.
O.O
"Why is it so important for you to help me?" The dark elf asked as he opened his eyes, shifting to his side while he lay next to her in the blankets.
"It is my duty to heal the sick and protect the weak," she replied and scooted away from him, leaving the cozy nest behind. She reached for a linen nightgown and slipped it over her thin body.
"Are you a priestess?" He inquired and felt a shiver course through his body as he thought of the fanatical high priestesses of the wretched Spider Queen.
"No, I'm not a cleric. My vocation lies within nature. I am in service to the Forest Queen as one of her druids." Mistale replied, eyeing him suspiciously.
"And your name, lady druid?" He asked and sat up fully. He stretched the arm that was broken, flexing it back and forth to regain fluidity in it. Then he checked his abdomen, removing the bandages that covered it, and cracked a wry grin because there was no scar at all. How had she managed that?
"I told you my name. It is Mistale. Mistale Greencloak. And yours?" She cocked an eyebrow and met his gaze levelly.
"The noble house of Dryaalis will be thankful that I'm alive, but would kill you in the most painful manner as payment to the debt. It's best you don't know who I am. I feel stronger than I did. I will take my leave and make my way back to my home. Therefore, I shall trouble you no more," he replied and reached for his small pack.
"You won't tell your name."
He shook his head, affirming what he'd said. Mistale let out a long sigh. He may not be fighting her physically now, but they were still battling nonetheless. She gathered her things, stuffing them in her pack and changed her clothes. She left the cave behind and headed for the meadow, where she spent the entire day, resting and daydreaming. Part of her hoped he'd be gone when she returned the small rock dwelling and the other begged for the opposite. As crazy as it seemed, she wished for time to get to know him. Never had a male affected her in the same way he had, not even her betrothed.
She settled back against the soft grasses, allowing the thoughts to consume her mind while she gazed up at the sky above. She drank in its splendor. The heavens above her emblazoned by the fiery glow that preceded the darkness of night. All around her the meadow came alive and spoke in hushed sounds as woodland animals, which frolicked about in the high grass, scurried into the safety of the trees as they sensed something coming. Druids long past believed that all living things communicated with one another and at dusk the sounds of the pines branches swaying gently in the mountain breeze sounded like naughty children whispering about their latest escapade. The tallest of the silver pines, with their tops disappearing in the thick cloud of boughs among the rapidly fading sky, appeared to keep watch over the meadow, guarding it against the rest of the world. Deep grasses in different shades of vibrant green laid a thick carpet, broken only by the sprinkling of red, blue, violet and yellow wildflowers that lifted their fading petals through the lush vegetation to peek at the great expanse of their universe. This was truly nature's cathedral.
Greymist whined low in his throat as he settled in beside her. She reached over and scratched his ears, petting his silken coat.
What was it about that male in the cave that made her feel so on edge
? Yes, he was a very attractive specimen, the only one she'd ever seen completely naked. Why did the mere sight, the mere thought of him make her heart race and her loins throb? No male, not even her betrothed had brought those feelings to the surface and ever since his death; she had vowed that no male would possess her heart, her body or her soul. Mistale vowed to stick to that.
She patted her wolf companion once more, and spoke in soft tones, "Come with me, my furry friend." Then she returned to the cave with the wolf at her heels.
She paused outside the rocky entrance, wondering what she'd find when she ducked inside. She thought back to the day she had sensed the dark elf's suffering and found him injured. The unknown niggled at her, eating away at her resolve.
Please be here
, she whispered and ducked inside.
O.O
Relief shot through her as she found Azlorik asleep between the blankets. Mistale sated her hunger with a few strips of dried meat and the remains of the wild vegetables she'd found. Polishing off the last of the Mead, she crawled in next to the drow and snuggled into his warm flesh. Her hands traced up his flat stomach, marveling at the feel of the muscles and of the smooth ebony skin.
Just as the sun peaked over the horizon and sent its golden rays forward to illuminate the darkness of the cave, Mistale felt a blade against her throat. Her eyes flew open, full of fright. Her body went rigid as she met the dark elf's intimidating stare. She sucked in a swift breath and held it as she felt the blade trace down the column of her neck, over her collarbone, and came to a stop in the valley between her ivory mounds.
A shiver raced through her before a whimper slipped from her lips. "Please, no. Don't kill me," she pleaded. Tears welled in her eyes.
"
Belbau uns'aa uss sanrr ele Usstan zhal'la naut elgg dos
(Give me one reason why I should not kill you)?" His tawny eyes twinkled mischievously.
"
Usstan dormagyn dosst dro
(I saved your life)!" Mistale stated emphatically.
He grinned, tracing the blade further down her skin. He stopped at her navel and gave the skin a small prick. "
Lueth dos ssinssrin lil toha dal uns'aa wun yutsu
(And you want the same from me in return)?"
Mistale trembled. She licked her lips. "
Zhah nindel ichl mzilt ulu joros
(Is that too much to ask)?
Dos ph' dro p'wal d' uns'aa
(You are alive because of me)."
He intently watched her quivering skin, could smell the fear rolling off her skin. "You disregarded what I asked of you. I asked you to kill me. Are you such an incompetent
darthiir
(surface elf) that you can't even follow simple orders?"
"Then kill me and be rid of me," Mistale bravely challenged.
A chuckle slipped from his lips. "I think not. I think you are now my
rothe
(slave) and therefore I shall do as I please with you. I will have solid food and something good to drink."
"Slave? I'm not your slave! You've gone crazy, Dark elf!" Mistale retorted, furiously.
"I could feast on your pale flesh and drink your blood if I wanted to."
Fear and revulsion crossed her face. She struggled to be free of his hold on her, but couldn't break loose. He pressed her flat and covered her fully, holding her arms above her head. Mistale whimpered when she felt something warm and thick press against her thigh.
