Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The Solitary Arrow by Mack the Knife

   Part Ten

   The next morning was rainy, and the lowering thunderclouds did little to
improve that, drowning the countryside in sequential torrents of heavy
summer rains.  The dark mood of it sank into Harlen's heart.  When it was
like this, he could not work, and his work was him.  Or, at least it had
been.  He sat in his little workroom at midmorning when Hyandai entered,
dressed in one of his mother's old work dresses.  She was carrying a large
bowl of fruit, all pre-skinned and cut into little chunks.  She asked about
the various stages of tanning and preparation of skins as he worked, and
popped pieces of different fruit into his mouth as he talked.  She was
slightly disturbed at some of the more gruesome details of tannery, such as
where one obtains ammonia for sterilizing the skins and killing all the
meat still attached.

   "I never knew where the tanner's got their base materials." She said,
eyeing the vat in the corner of his tannery dubiously.

   Harlen chuckled and said, "Perhaps elven tanners get theirs from another
source." He picked up another half-done skin and dropped it into the large
vat before closing the airtight lid.  "Though I wager they get it the same
way but don't tell anyone."

   She curled her nose at that thought, then fed him a chunk of `bananana.'
She enjoyed saying it so much she figured she could get away with an extra
`na' in there.  Trevir was in and out grabbing this implement or that, then
retreating to the back courtyard, he was taking advantage in a break in the
rain to work on something.  Harlen was curious what he was doing, and
Hyandai was as well, but he had asked them to not peek, so they did not.

   Harlen offered to let her try her hand at scraping, but she balked at
the sharpness of the blade, and said, "I would cut through it or ruin it,
and those pelts are worth much to your people." She added, "I will try my
hand at small things, when you get rabbit skins or something, where I can
make up to you any mistakes I may make in a single night."

   He smiled and nodded at that, wishing fervently that she would ruin a
very good skin if she were planning on `making up for mistakes' in the way
he was thinking.  He watched her deft fingers, though and figured she would
not make such mistakes at all, her manual agility was amazing.  He often
watched her idly performing tricks with those tiny fingers that he could
barely manage with precise tools crafted for the purpose.

   The thing he most enjoyed was when she found his records.  She had seen
the dismal state of his financial and transaction records and had flown
into a near rage.  Apparently, scribes were wroth to let people keep poor
records.  She had immediately taken his entire chest of small documents and
a few hand-penned ledgers and sat down at his second work bench.  She
wielded quill and ink like a master swordsman, ripping through his shabby
accounting like a troll through a goblin camp.  Three hours later, she
presented him with a single ledger.  When he opened it, he gasped in
dismay, the records were all now in elven, and used elven arithmetic, as
well.

   "What in blazes am I to do with these?" He asked, trying to stifle a
laugh.  "And when the Duke's assessor comes by he will surely throw a fit
when he must retain a translator to decipher my records."

   She smiled.  "Elven math is easier to do, actually, and the assessor
probably already knows that." She showed him the finely-drawn characters.
"Your people have yet to fully accept the concept of zero, which is
amazingly useful.  I will one day teach it to you." Harlen nodded with
suspicious eyes, but folded the book closed.  "And what is the verdict, my
love, am I wealthy enough for your tastes?"

   She grinned, her secret having been found out.  "I did not wish to
inquire as to your wealth or lack thereof, but if put to it, I would say
more than." She opened his ledger back up.  "According to your records, you
have over a thousand marks in the ducal vault, as well as the near thousand
you keep here."

   He nodded.  "The duke does this for his people, to ensure against
robbery or accident." He smiled.  "He is not a bad man, despite what you
think from my welted back."

   She touched his wide back.  "I know.  I have spoken to Trevir about him,
and the lad says he's something of a hero."

   Harlen chuckled, "I wouldn't say hero, but a decent enough man.  Unlike
some nobles, he does not get overly involved in the day-to-day events of
the Duchy.  He mostly leaves us alone and we prosper...and send him taxes."

   She smiled.  "That is a very elven way of governing." She said.  "I
suppose the proximity of Windir to this land has had some influence, even
with our sealing the borders."

   --

   At noon, the two broke from the workroom and went back into the common.
Trevir was just scampering through, with another load of tools in his
hands. "I am almost finished, Miss Hyandai!" He said excitedly as he ran
through.

   "Do you know what he's doing?" Harlen asked her.

   She shook her head slowly, but smiled at Trevir's exuberance.

   Harlen watched as he went through the bathing room door, dropping a
small file as he did so, then recovering it with a hand shot back through
the crack in the door.  "He is a good lad." He said.  "I am glad I could
help him, at the least."

   Hyandai hugged him.  "He will be a good man, too." She agreed and kissed
his cheek.  "Like his mentor."

   He looked down at her, so small beside him, but she controlled him as
surely as a puppet master at the fair.  If she chose to pull a string of
his heart, he would dance to the tune she set.  She was looking up at him,
as well, thinking similar thoughts.  He wondered what he had done to earn
the love of a woman, especially an elven maiden.  That, he knew from
legend, was no small task, for they were not wont to give their love to a
human, short-lived and clumsy things that they were.  But he had managed
it, and was not sure how, for if he knew, he could grow truly wealthy in
advising other hopeful men.

   He squeezed her narrow waist, and she pressed to him.  "On the day
following tomorrow, the Sorceress said." She whispered to him.  "I will be
sound again." Then she looked up at him a second time.  "Then you can make
me hurt a few days, no?"

   Harlen chuckled at her boldness.  She went through bouts of that, he was
noticing.  One moment she was a shy child, then the next a bold and wanton
woman.  He supposed it had to do with the `fey,' as she called it.  It was
part of her, and he had to accept it.  It was what helped her make
statements like that, but it was also what guided her to terrify and offend
Trevir the other morning, as well.  He kissed her brow and sighed.

   Trevir came back in, carrying a large armload of Harlen's tools and
said, "It's done!" And went into the workroom to put them away.  The couple
looked at one another and awaited his return.  A moment later he did so,
quivering in excitement.  "Come see!" He said and went through the bathing
room door.

   The couple followed, watching him scamper ahead and passed through the
large bathing room, with its huge wooden tub.  Hyanda had become enamored
of the tub, with its scalding water and its luxurious depth.  She bathed
nightly, if time permitted, after Trevir had gone to bed.

   They entered the back yard behind him, and he pointed to the corner of
the court, under a particularly large oak that was wedged between a willow
and a elm.  The three trees formed a sort of cul-de-sac between them, and
he had built his little project there.  Its construction was crude and
rudimentary, but Hyandai recognized it right off.  It was a prayer shrine,
an elven prayer shrine.  She gasped at it, and held her hand over her
mouth. Then she had to fight back the tears she wanted to weep for joy. 
The lad had built this for her and, obviously, no one else.

   She walked up to it and looked it over.  It was crudely built, indeed,
but it was sturdy, and was in no way disrespectful of the elven religion.
Careful attention had been paid to its dimensions, and its orientation, as
well.  Due east, toward the rising sun and moon.  She smiled as she touched
the top.  "Thank you Trevir." She said, and looked at him and Harlen
standing nearby.  "How did you know how to build this?"

   Trevir jerked a thumb at his mentor and said, "Harlen showed me from a
book." His face was so bright and guileless.  "He said that you were going
to be staying a while yet, and would need a place to practice your faith."
Then his smile widened more, which was impressive, indeed.  "So I built
one."

   She wiped a wayward tear from her eye and walked to stand in front of
the youth.  It always amazed her how large humans are.  This boy, not even
beginning, yet, his final growth to manhood, stood as tall as she, and even
more broadly built.  She put her arms around him in a mighty hug, and he
squirmed, but hugged her back.  "You are a wonderful man." She said to him
as she pressed her head to his shoulder.  Her eyes were on Harlen, and her
lips near Trevir's ear.  Both knew it was him being complimented and they
both beamed.

   She looked at it some more, fussing over some of the details he had put
within it, and pointing out one small mistake which Trevir immediately went
to run for tools to fix.  As the house's door slammed she said.  "How did
you know I was missing my practices?" She asked Harlen.  "I had not
mentioned them."

   He shrugged.  "I would be, were I in Windir." He replied.  "So, I
figured you missed yours, and borrowed a book from one of my friends that
had a picture of a shrine, the book said elves were inclined to pray at
such, and I let the nimblest hands I control take over from there." He
said, grinning as the lad bolted from the house with a small hammer and saw
in his hands.

   After he finished, she declared it now perfect, and promised she would
use it very soon.  Trevir was beside himself and asked when that might be.

   She looked at him seriously.  "Do you wish to participate?" She asked
him.

   He looked at Harlen for guidance.  His mentor smiled and nodded, then
Trevir repeated the gesture, grinning.  Then he stopped.  "It's not unclad,
is it?" He asked, looking frightened.

   She giggled at that.  "No, Trevir.  It is a clothed thing.  Only boys
birthdays are cause for the boy going unclad to the altar." Then she broke
into full laughter as a look of utter dismay crossed his face.

   "B...Birthdays?" He asked.  "Why would they do that?"

   She straightened up her face and said, with an almost serious
expression. "Because everyone needs to see how he is coming along.  Whether
he is growing up to be a strong and healthy lad." She looked him over
appraisingly.  Trevir seemed very glad his birthday had just passed.

   Trevir excused himself, saying that it was time to go buy the day's
consumables, then ran off.  Harlen looked at Hyandai suspiciously.  "Do
they really make boys come to the altar on their birthday unclad?" He
asked.

   She nodded.  "Indeed, they do." She said.  Then she smiled widely. 
"Actually, all ceremonies are traditionally skyclad, but it is not utterly
required." She grinned at him.  "I will keep my clothes on for poor Trevir,
he has had enough surprises from me."

   As they walked back to the house.  "I sure wish an elven woman had
`surprised' me a few times as I grew up." Harlen murmured.

   They entered the house again, and none too soon, as they sky began to
fall again as they walked from the yard.  Harlen declared he needed to
speak to Tammer, and Hyandai begged tiredness and went to nap a bit in
their massive bed, so he left off alone.  As he walked the graveled road,
the rain spattering off his oilskin poncho, he realized that they did not
part company much at all, and he did not mind that with her.  He smiled
back at the house, and was already wanting to go back and be with Hyandai.
He fought that urge and went on toward the core of the village.  He had
things to discuss with his old mentor, and they were best discussed during
the day, when the tavern would be very sparsely populated.

   "Ho, Harlen." Said the old man as he entered.  "Back so soon?" He added,
slamming down a large mug of beer in front of him as he sat at a stool.

   He nodded.  "Yes, Tammer, my old friend and master." He said, trying to
sound respectful.

   Tammer laughed.  "Old, undoubtedly; friend, definately; but I hear few
can master you these days, and your hunting skills are now regarded highly,
indeed."

   Harlen shrugged.  "So they say, but I was bested by a mere few orcs, and
Hyandai suffered for it most grievously." He watched the old man pull up a
stool to his side of the bar.

   "Don't be so rough on yourself, lad." He said, smiling at the hunter. 
"Orcs are not to be trifled with, they're powerful, cunning, and tough." He
said.  "I'd not cross one if I could help it.  Besides, a good huntsman is
not necessarily a good man of war." He looked serious now.  "Fighting foes
like orcs is a very different skill to killing a wild boar, or even a
mountain bear."

   Harlen agreed with a nod.

   "But, something tells me you're not here to talk hunting with me, lest
it be something about bringing down a wild elf." Tammer said.

   Harlen nodded again.  "There you have it, my friend." He said.  "Exactly
what I came to you to ask about."

   The old man laughed.  "Then out with it, lad.  I've not all day to
answer sad heart questions." He then added, "Also, be careful with my
advise.  Note that I do not have an elven bride on my arm this day, so my
skill with the fair folk, especially the fair sex among them is suspect."

   Harlen nodded.  "I wanted to ask about the `fey.'"

   Tammer nodded slowly.  "Told you about that, has she?" He asked.  "She
is decided on her part, then."

   The hunter nodded.  "I thought it might be something they didn't share
with just anyone." He said.

   "Well, lad," Said the old man, "Unless her fey is war, you're in good
shape, relatively speaking."

   Harlen chuckled.  "No, it's far from war." He said, smiling.

   Tammer leaned in conspiratorially.  "Her sister's fey was thievery, if
you can believe that." He said.  "I spent most of my money paying for stuff
she filched in those days." He looked at Harlen.  "If you know her fey,
then you know what to expect, though, and I was always ready with a quick
word and a quicker purse when she would get cought."

   Harlen looked down at his half full mug.  "If only Hyandai's was so
simple to work with."

   The old man nodded.  "I will not ask you, Harlen, what it might be, for
some are rather embarrassing to bear." He said.  "But know that it is core
to her, and without it she would not be who she is." He grinned widely. 
"But I think I know what it is, for her behavior marks her with it.  Her
sister gave me no kiss by proxy." He said, smiling.  "Her fey is love,
lust, or romance, or I'm a wet-eared whelp."

   Harlen nodded.  "But it is just how she is then." He said.  "Then I
don't want to do anything about it, including make her behave against its
nature."

   Tammer's hand laid on his own on the counter.  "It'd be like her asking
you to stop being a man and wear a dress and squeeze out pups." He grinned
widely again.  "And, by the One, I'll shoot you myself if I see you in a
dress."

   The hunter finished his beer, and payed Tammer despite his protests.  He
took his leave of his old friend, and headed back for his home.  On the way
he stopped to speak to a couple of the other hunters who were in town
trading, they stood together under a porch that ran the front of one of the
general goods stores, and they discussed more of the events and of how the
orcs had grown more bold of late.  It was decided that they would soon send
an envoy to the duke to petition him to spare some troops to `thin the
herd.'

   He arrived home just before the evening meal time, and smelled venison
cooking, and vegetables, maybe squash, being boiled.  He walked toward the
kitchen to find Hyandai there, wearing an apron about her waist.  His heart
nearly burst at that image of domestic normalcy.  "Did you and Tammer have
a good talk?" She asked, smiling at him and stirring the small pot of
squash.

   "Indeed, we did." He replied, putting his arms about her from behind and
kissing her neck.  She wriggled in his grip, but did not protest, or try to
move.  "I don't wish to turn you into a normal housewife, my lover, but by
the One, you look marvelous in that apron." He whispered into her ear.

   She leaned back and kissed his earlobe.  "Perhaps, tomorrow, I will wear
just it, then." She whispered.  Then she enjoyed the reaction, smiling
softly as he pressed to her and she felt him harden.  She was teasing him,
she knew it, and she liked doing it.

   Trevir walked in and said.  "Ech.  You two have a room, don't you?" His
face registered mock distaste.

   Hyandai turned slipped from Harlen and turned on the lad, she managed to
grab his chest and she hugged him close, pecking him about the face with
little kisses, making a huge amount of racket with her smacking sounds.  He
squirmed and giggled at her, and thoroughly enjoyed the attention, whatever
the cause.  Finally, she let him go and he pretended to wipe his cheek. 
"She's dangerous, that one is." He laughed.

   The elf went back to stirring the pot and winked at him.  "You know you
like it." She said over her shoulder.

   "No I don't." He said unconvincingly, mainly due to the deep crimson he
had turned over the last thirty seconds.  Harlen ruffled his hair and asked
if he was done with loading up the wood boxes and the boy shuffled off.

   He kissed Hyandai's neck.  "You're going to give the poor boy some very
strange ideas about girls." He said as he nuzzled into her hair.

   "Like what, pray tell?" She asked, smiling and tilting her head to give
him more neck to nuzzle.  "That we like boys and we give them kisses?" She
said.

   Harlen shrugged.  "And that they're all incredibly beautiful and
mind-numbingly friendly." He said, kissing her shoulder.

   "We are." She said, and picked up the pot and dumped the stewed squash
into a bowl.  "All of us are friendly if the man is worth it."

   --

   The three of them ate their dinner, and enjoyed some light conversation
later.  Harlen discussed his plans in the near future to start Trevir
coming on his hunting trips into the wood.  The lad seemed to be good
enough with the bow now, and he was itching to actually try to shoot
something, enough so that the neighbors were beginning to fear for their
pets' safety.

   Hyandai and Trevir did the dishes after the meal and she sent him off
for the evening.  She gave him a kiss on his cheek as he left, when Harlen
was not watching, and he definitely did not wipe it off, she noted.

   --

   The rain continued into the night as the couple prepared for bed. 
Hyandai smiled as Harlen disrobed.  "My lover, I would like to pleasure you
tonight." She said, eyeing his manhood as he pulled off his pants.

   "I'm not one to say no to a direct request." He said, his own mouth
turning up in a wide smile.

   She laid on the bed as he crawled up beside her.  They began kissing and
touching one another, gently exploring each other with their hands and
fingertips and mouths.  He loved the feel of her smooth skin and silky hair
under his touch.  She liked his coarseness of hair, and his tanned skin,
she was even beginning to like his many small and large scars.  Harlen had
received a great number of injuries throughout his life, she saw.  She
wanted to kiss each of them as she found them.  The elf wished she could
make them forgotten and disappear.

   As they moved about each other, Harlen had managed to find one of her
small knees, and was kissing up her thigh from it.  He was halfway to her
groin when she said, "I was going to pleasure you." Her frown was utterly
unconvincing and he grinned up at her.

   "I guess you can do that." He said.  "After I'm done." He added, and
continued his exploration with his lips and tongue.  As he neared her
entrance, she touched his hair, and ran her fingers into it.  She could
feel his warm breath on her labia, then she felt the gentle caress of his
tongue on them, then over her clitoris.  She moaned softly and laid back,
still holding his hair.

   He moved his tongue slowly and forcefully over her inner folds, then
into her vagina.  She gasped as he pulled out and sucked directly on her
sensitive little knob of a clitoris.

   "Harlen, that feels so wondrous." She said, watching him as he slid his
tongue over the whole area, his eyes shut and obviously enjoying himself.

   He lifted up a moment.  "It tastes the same, my love." He said, and
buried his mouth and tongue between her upraised thighs.  She smiled widely
as she could feel herself begin the slow climb to release, and intended to
savor every inch going up the hill.  Harlen had moved a bit around, and she
found she could reach his swollen cock from where she lay, and did so. 
Wrapping her cool, slim fingers around his engorged shaft.  Slowly, she
stroked the organ, watching in fascination as the skin slid over it, and
how supple and soft it was.  She liked squeezing hard, and watching the
head turn purple and swell, and the veins on the sides bulge in tension.  A
shiver ran through her as her pleasure from his tongue's ministrations
mounted higher on her climbing ascent.

   She started twisting around herself, and managed to get close enough to
his pelvis to take the head of his manhood into her mouth.  She lapped at
the head with her small, quick tongue, and felt it twitching in time with
her tune.  Harlen moaned as she began applying soft suction to him, and
they began to time their strokes and tongue movements together.  Her hand
moved from his head to his scrotum and started gently rolling his testicles
around within the loose skin.  She began to taste the saltiness that meant
his climax was nearing, and began to apply her tongue even faster,
determined to bring him to a finish before he did so to her, but she was
not at all sure she could, she was very near herself, beginning to gasp for
air and move her hips in response to his motions.

   She felt her orgasm grip her, and her legs stiffened, clamping onto the
sides of Harlen's head, and holding him in place while he continued to lick
her, he lapped frantically as she writhed through the orgasm, intensifying
the sensations as he moved his tongue over her clitoris.

   Then she tasted his seed flooding her waiting mouth.  She swallowed
greedily, now used to the act, and not at all bothered any longer by the
taste.  It was not disagreeable, and he enjoyed it a lot, so it made it a
good thing in her mind, and something to not be bothered by.

   When he finished spending himself, and she felt him going soft, even
under her fast tongue, she slipped her lips from him.  "That is better."
She concluded.  "With one more full day after today to wait, I was going to
burst if someone did not reach their pinnacle.

   He chuckled as he left off lapping at her, and his head rested on her
thigh.  "Well, now we have both done so, therefore we should be good to go
until day after tomorrow.

   She nodded.  "I do not wish to wait, but think we should."

   He agreed, but said.  "Yes, but very first thing in the morning, I think
would be wise."

   She giggled.  "To prevent interruptions?"

   He rubbed her thigh with his hand.  "Exactly." He said.  "I do not want
something else to get in the way."

   She sat up and stroked his hair with her narrow fingers.  "Agreed, my
lover, as soon as we awaken."

   They both shifted around and laid on their pillows.  Hyandai did not use
a pillow as she slept, though, she preferred his arm, and insisted on it,
for going to sleep, at least, and became quite vexed if he tried to avoid
it.

   They laid there a short while, with the light orb in its pouch.  Then
Harlen said.  "Did you mean what you said about betrothal?"

   She looked at him in the dark, seeing him perfectly well, and knowing
she was just an indistinct blur in the dark to him.  "Yes, my love, of
course I meant it."

   He smiled.  "Is there something we need to do?"

   She touched his lips with her fingertips.  "A small ceremony, at least
to my people it is small, but I understand your folk have one, also."

   He nodded.  "But it is just for permanent marriages, not engagements,
which is what we call your betrothal."

   She nodded.  "I understand, but there is no ceremony for engagement?"
She asked.

   He said.  "Not really, the man just asks and the woman accepts or not."
He kissed her forehead.  "I hope you will accept."

   "I already have." She said, smiling broadly.  "I accepted almost a week
ago, someone should have told you."

   He embraced her close and inhaled deeply through her hair, sighing it
back out.  "Yeah, they should have." He said quietly.

   --

   The morning was better than before, but there was still some threat of
rain in the air.  Heavy clouds scuttled overhead, but there were breaks in
them, and no rain was falling as they awoke.  Harlen still embracing his
lovely companion, and she curled up in a small package in front of him. 
She uncurled and smiled at him.  "Good morrow, my lover." She said, kissing
his nose.

   He yawned and said.  "And to you, angel of the morning."

   She giggled.  "I thought I was a soul-sucking demoness?"

   "Only when parts of me are asking favors." He replied, grinning widely.

   She groped the parts in question and asked, "And this morning it desires
me not?"

   "Oh," Harlen said, looking very serious, "it desires you, very much, but
it desires other than your mouth when next it enters you."

   She grinned lasciviously.  "There ARE other possibilities, you know?"
Her golden eyes were beginning to turn a bright bronze.

   Harlen laughed.  "Ho, ho." He said.  "And now you wish to try something
like that?" He said, touching her hip gently.

   She shrugged.  "Why not?" She asked, her eyebrows lifted.  "I was not
injured there in any way."

   The hunter kissed her brow.  "No, my dearest.  If you wish it another
time, after we have made love as we await, then perhaps we will try that."
He said.  "But next time I enjoy pleasures with you, I want it to be in the
way people are truly meant to."

   She smiled.  "Very well, but I did offer." She said, taking hold of his
hand and moving it onto her upturned rump.  "It may be an offer long in the
coming again." She giggled.

   He looked thoughtful then said.  "I would like to wait, my love."

   She giggled again.  "Very well." She said and rolled over and sat up. 
"Then what are we to do?" She glanced mischievously back over her shoulder.
"Perhaps I should go bother poor Trevir some more?"

   Harlen rolled behind her and grabbed her waist.  "You already have that
poor lad seeing stars all hours of the day, my sweet, don't torment him."

   She pouted.  "But I must do something naughty." She said, looking up at
him with a somewhat dark expression, though her smile remained in place. 
"Really, I must."

   Harlen kept his face placid while thinking about her fey and how it
would rear its head from time to time.  Was this one of them?  He looked
down into her eyes, and she softened her smile, but the eyes remained
intense.  "Very well, my love, I will resist myself, this once." She said,
standing and regarding herself in the mirror.  "We should not make this a
common thing." She said, running her hand down her belly and over the folds
of her pubic mound.

   He watched in fascination as she licked her lips then opened her mouth
part way and her fingers rubbed over her own clitoris.  She did not even
notice him staring, now, so far gone as she was.  A sigh escaped her throat
and she leaned forward a bit, and he could now see between her legs, that
she had two fingers nestled between her labia, entering herself.  Her legs
trembled a bit, and she gave a sizable twitch with her whole body.  She
turned about to him, and looked down at his reclining figure.

   "It is hard to fight my fey, Harlen." She said.  "And somewhat foolish
to try." Her expression was strained.  Her fingers were still imbedded in
her small slit.  "I do not know why it is so active of late, possibly
hormones from that unwanted seed, or it could be the general tension I have
felt for these days." She pulled the fingers from herself, and licked them.
"But, it is active, and it is not a contest I relish." She sat back on the
bed, her eyes slowly shifting back to their normal golden color.  "I am
sorry, my love, but if you would cleave to me, you will need to accept that
part of me."

   He watched her calm.  "What did you do when it happened before me, or
Eleean?" He asked.

   She smiled darkly.  "Eleean never saw it." She said.  "As a child, of
course, it never manifested in anything beyond a curiosity about sexual
things." Her lips pursed.  "But, since I was of age," she said, "it has led
me to some rather odd situations.  I was a maiden, that is the truth, but
there are other things a fey can drive one to." She looked at her
reflection in the mirror.  "Things I will not discuss with anyone save my
husband, when I am bound for life."

   He nodded.  "Fair enough." He said, kissing her cheek.  "I shouldn't
have asked."

   "I understand your interest, as I am currently your concern." She said,
smiling, and standing again.  "But I will say none of it is terribly bad,
but all of it may be terribly embarrassing to me." She began to dress in
her doeskin clothes.  "Today, I wish to see your grand mother again." She
said, flatly.  "Will that be acceptable?" She asked.

   "Of course." Harlen answered.  "She would probably love to see you."

   She looked at him with sad eyes now.  "I would ask you to lie to her."
She said, then looked down.  "I hate to do that, but I must."

   He nodded.  "About the night-orb?" He asked.

   She looked up again.  "Yes." She replied.  "I will tell her I
miscarried, as is somewhat common among human and elf conceptions."

   Harlen said.  "I understand that.  Yes, a little lie would probably
serve best, and if she has heard rumor of the visit to the Sorceress, it
was regarding the miscarriage, trying to prevent it."

   She nodded.  "Good.  Much as I hate to lie, especially to your gramma,
it is something I think best.  She believed it to be yours, and I implied
that it was most welcome."

   He nodded.  "I sort of thought it went like that." He said.  He chewed
his lip.  We'll go over after lunch."

   --

   They sat in his gramma's tiny common room and the elder woman fussed
over the elven girl.  "You poor thing." She said, her face the very picture
of concern.  "I hope it wasn't too painful for you." She was near to tears.

   "No, gramma." Hyandai said, looking at the floor.  "It was painless,
actually, as it was too small for me to even feel."

   Gramma patted her shoulder.  "I meant in your heart." She said.

   "Well, my heart is troubled over it, but I will be okay, with time." She
said, taking Harlen's hand into her own.

   Harlen looked extremely uncomfortable, luckily gramma took it as upset
over what had happened.  "Don't you two worry." She said, trying to put on
a happy grin, despite the terrible news she had just received.  "You're
both young and healthy, and if a child is what you want, I am sure you will
be blessed by the One with a beautiful one."

   Hyandai nodded and smiled at her, then turned toward Harlen.  "I seek a
child very much, gramma." She said.  "Though we had not really spoken of
it."

   His rather dour countenance changed almost instantly to one of
unrehearsed surprise.  "You do?" He asked.

   She kissed his wrist.  "Yes, my love, I do.  Though I think that we
should wait until later."

   He nodded agreement, then smiled lopsidedly.  "Whenever you're ready."
He said, and earned a cuffing on the back of the head.

   "Mind your manners, you whelp." His gramma said, but was smiling, too.
You two should speak to Father Tegmar, if you're serious about such
things."

   Hyandai asked.  "Is he the priest of the One in this town?"

   Gramma said.  "He is.  He is a good man, and will give you both guidance
on the matter, I am sure, wise guidance."

   They spoke for about an hour after, with Hyandai making sure of her lack
of pregnancy by picking up the night-orb twice.  It stayed flat and black
both times.  "Harlen's gramma clucked at her the second time, gently taking
it from her fingers.  "You stop that, now." She said.  "Do not rush
yourself."

   They stopped by the Pierced Boar on the way home and had wine and some
rather bland lamb with potatoes.  Tammer was in top form, pouring drinks
for the rather dense crowd this night.  Harlen noticed a lot of people from
out of town among the crowd.  "What goes?" He asked the old man, eyeing the
newcomers.

   "Trouble in the hills north ways." Tammer said.  "The orcs have gotten
bold up there, and raided some homesteads and even one hamlet, if you'll
believe it." He leaned in close.  "One of the Duke's patrols captured one
of the brutes and they managed to get it to talk.  There's rumor among the
orcs of a new boss in the hills, and he's organizing them under one
banner."

   Hyandai looked very nervous.  "That does not bode well for my mission."
She said.  "Those orcs were already organized more than is good for them,
if they are becoming more so, slipping past those hills is going to be very
hard, indeed."

   Harlen nodded.  "Well, if they can be sneaked around, I will get us
around them."

   She touched his arm.  "You are certain you can?" She asked.

   "No." He said.  "But I promised I would help you, and I will."

   They finished their drinks in silence, and watched the crowd.  Some of
the people were quite upset and trying to drown their sorrows in beer, or
brandy.  They were the ones who lost kinfolk or friends, and Harlen felt
pity for them.  One looked up at them, though, and saw Hyandai as she
brushed her hair back from her face, exposing one of her ears fully.  His
eyes widened.

   Harlen thought he would cry out, but he did not, he came over quietly to
their table and begged leave to sit.  The hunter, nor the elf could bring
themselves to deny someone with such sorrow etched into their face, and
they assented.

   The man sat, he was older than Harlen, but hardly an old man.  His eyes
were blue, and he had long, shaggy, brown hair.  "Miss." He said.  "I saw
you're elvenborn." He looked at her hopefully.  "May I beg a boon of you?"

   She smiled gently and nodded.  "If it be in my ability, I will grant
it." She said.

   The man looked back to the table he was at, a woman stood from there,
about his age, and walked over and sat at the last chair at their table. 
Once she sat, the man asked.  "Will you make a dirge for my daughter?" His
face was full of both hope and pain.  "She was slain yesterday by those
orcs in the hills." His wife began to cry openly, weeping and sniffing.

   Hyandai smiled gently.  "Of course I will, though I am no minstrel and I
cannot promise the quality she deserves."

   He smiled at her.  "You're elvenborn, it will be more than adequate." He
said, holding his wife's hand under the table.

   Hyandai leaned forward and said.  "Look into my eyes, and think of your
daughter." She stared intently at the man for almost a minute, then at the
wife for a similar time.  Harlen was fascinated, watching as she gently
probed their minds, not invading it like she had his, but looking here and
there, like someone searching a house, rather than moving into it and
clearing out all the furniture.  She only took what she needed, and it was
always just information, not the items themselves.

   Finally, she leaned back and said.  "Give me a few moments." Her eyes
closed and she started moving her lips, as if speaking to herself.  She
opened her eyes after almost five minutes.  "I am ready." She said.  She
gestured to Tammer, who came right over at her beckoning.

   "Yes, Miss Hyandai?" He asked solicitously.

   She indicated the couple with a wave of her hand.  "These fine folk have
asked that I dirge for their daughter, do you mind?"

   Tammer's eyes widened.  "I would never." He said, almost looking
offended.  "If someone deserves a dirge, then by the One, it'll be heard."
He stood from their table and yelled at the crowd for silence.  The noise
abated to about half the former level, but he was obliged to yell again,
and employ some rather creative vocabulary to inspire people to the proper
level of respectful silence.  "You will shut your cob-slobbering yap traps,
you smelly lot, else I'll start cracking skulls!" The room was as quiet as
anywhere fifty or so people stood in could be.

   Hyandai stood from the chair and walked to the bar.  Tammer helped her
to stand upon it, climbing carefully up.  She brushed her hair back from
her face, a murmur ran through the crowd.  She swallowed visably.  "I have
been asked by a kind man and his lovely wife to sing a song for their
daughter, dead at the bloody hands of the orcs of the hills." She said,
looking at the couple.  "Some of the elder of you have heard an elven dirge
before, and know it is akin to part of the person being sung of.  I would
ask that you listen and think on the girl that died, and remember her with
joy."

   The air was dead silent as she finished speaking.  Her voice started off
low and soft, and her eyes closed.  There was a feeling in the sounds she
was making.  It was not words, for there were no words to describe what she
was saying.  Her voice climbed slowly and it carried the sense of youth and
of innocence and it carried within its tones the horror of the girl's
death. She had been only ten, the sound said, and she was not ready to be
taken from the world.  Her tones filled the room, as if it were a
auditorium meant to be sung in.  Her voice was powerful, and it gained
volume and strength as she sang, and her heart felt the agony of the
parents.  She had tears rolling down her face as she began to sing of the
joys the girl had felt and brought to those around her.

   The people in the crowd could see the child, a little girl with light
brown hair and big green eyes.  They saw her playing and working and
hugging and being loved.  Many of the people hearing it cried, some of them
smiled, a few actually laughed, watching her learn to walk and watching her
get her first kiss stolen from her by a boy from the next farmstead.  They
even felt the discipline of her being punished for being bad, and rewarded
when she did well.  The dirge left no subject of her short life untouched
completely, and took the listener into the girl's life, not just the good,
but the bad, and the unfortunate, and the ecstatic.  They saw the mother
holding her to her breast, and the father seeing her for the first time
after her birthing.  The notes carried all this, the tones defined it, and
the harmonics gave it sharpness.  It wound its way into the listeners'
hearts and pierced them, and filled them with both joy and grief for the
life cut short.

   She began to wind down the song, and the images became more nebulous,
and indistinct.  A vague image of a young woman, standing in a field, tall
and pretty, and with light brown hair, and green eyes, and a wide smile, a
woman that might have been.  She ended on a long note that emptied the
scene, and everyone saw the room form around them again.

   Tammer was the cagy one, and he knew what to expect next.  As Hyandai
collapsed, he caught her in his still strong arms, and brought her down
from the bar and sat her on her chair.  "It takes it out of them to do
that." He said, and looked at Harlen.  "She'll be fine in a few minutes,
but she may be tired the rest of the evening."

   Her golden eyes fluttered open a few minutes later, and she smiled
faintly.  "I should have warned you about that." She said to Harlen.  "At
elven funerals there are ushers who stand by just for that." She looked at
the couple.  "Thank you." She said to them.

   They were both beaming happily.  "Why do you thank us?" The man asked.
"It was you who granted the boon." He added.

   She smiled at them.  "But you asked it of me." She replied.  "You wanted
me to do it, and it was an honor." She patted Harlen's worried hand on her
shoulder.  "You honored me by trusting me with her memories."

   The crowd was quiet still, murmuring here and there, and mostly just
drying tears and several fathers felt the urge to leave, to go home and be
with their families.  Harlen, himself, wanted to check on Trevir as he sat.
The couple thanked her again and went out the door, to wherever they would
stay the night.

   Hyandai rose a few minutes later, and said.  "I would go home now, my
lover, if we may." She looked exhausted, her eyes had dark blotches under
them, a thing he had never seen before.  He put an arm around her waist,
and helped her home, gently.  She collapsed on the bed upon reaching it,
and fell asleep before even removing her clothes.  Harlen laid beside her
and embraced her until sleep took him, as well.