She gave him the specific location of Logan’s guest suite and turned back towards her own chambers.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me I must be getting home so I can get changed for tonight.”
“Would you like me to walk with you, just in case?” the young Elf asked in obvious concern.
El stifled her laugh and smiled warmly at the youth. She couldn’t help but think how cute they were at this age, offering to be her protector even though she could have blasted him off the tree branch with hardly a moment’s thought. Though in fairness, he wasn’t much younger than she and Lan’thor.
“No, thank you,” she answered honestly. “I’ll be fine. If you hurry you should still be able to catch Logan, possibly save him from Rael’s ministrations.”
Oh come on, Rael’s not that bad, came a voice in her head. I’m almost ready by the way, despite having to keep an eye on you and that creep, Ar’n’tor. Are you sure you’re all right?
Of course, dear, she thought back with more than a little sarcasm.
She looked over at Le’land who was watching her quizzically.
“Logan’s waiting for you,” she said and headed for her own chambers.
An Evening Out
Always efficient, Rael had arranged new clothes for Logan and had tailored them to fit. Logan finished getting ready, arranged his training session with Le’land for the following morning, and made his way along the maze of high tree branches to El’s chamber. He figured he’d surprise her by coming to get her for a change and knocked at the wall beside the leaf door.
Are you decent? he sent mentally.
He heard her laugh.
“Come in, silly,” she called out.
Smiling to himself, Logan opened the leaf door and stepped into the El’s chamber. He wasn’t a full step in when he stopped cold, his mouth dropping open.
Glancing over her shoulder El smiled.
“So, am I decent?”
It took Logan several moments to respond. His eyes fixed on the beautiful woman before him, his mouth opening and closing though unable to manage speech. She was absolutely radiant. Her hair cascaded in golden waves around her shoulders framing her beautiful face and accentuating the gold in her eyes. Her dress was a velvet-like material in deep burgundy that reached all the way to her ankles and clung to her body in all the right places.
“Wow!” he exclaimed both mentally and verbally.
El blushed fiercely and turned away, only to glance back a moment later and blush again.
“Stop staring.”
Finally recovering the use of speech, Logan answered.
“Sorry, but I can’t help it. You just look so…so….” He shook his head and gave up on finding the words. A naughty thought crept into his mind and he moved toward her. “You know we could always…?”
El turned, putting her hand up to stop him as he approached.
“No, Logan, Lean’thor honours us with this invitation. We’re going.”
Logan smiled mischievously as he moved closer.
“Of course we will,” he assured her. “We’ll just be a little bit late.”
He raised his brow as suggestively as he could and slipped his hands around her waist.
“You’re incorrigible.” El’s laughter filled him with joy even as she playfully held him at arms length. Logan simply smiled at her again and she blushed even more fiercely.
“NO!” she announced as firmly as she could and lightly pushed him away.
Even with Logan’s repeated attempts at distraction, he really was incorrigible, the pair managed to arrive close to on time at the main hall that Lean’thor had requisitioned for the event. Unlike the last time Logan attended an event here - a more formal dinner in his honour for saving El - the guests were ushered in immediately. Stepping into the hall, Logan was pleased to note that he knew several of the warriors from their trip to the Elfin village. Warriors and their partners mingled through the gathering, drinking and chatting. Another difference Logan noted from the last time was that everyone seemed so much more relaxed. The last event was impressive. Everyone had been dressed well and looked sharp but there had been a certain stiffness to it all, as though everyone was bending over backwards to present their best manners. This seemed much more casual.
Lan’thor and Raeth were waiting for them when they arrived. As expected, Raeth didn’t look thrilled to be there. She was never fond of crowds, though it was also possible that her discomfort sprouted from the fact that she had had to give up her usual assassin’s attire. In place of the mottled black breeches, tunic, and robe she normally wore, was a long black dress with wide flowing sleeves. Her face was uncovered and the dark eyes and nearly black visage of a Dark Elf greeted Logan. The blackness of her hair blended well with the dress. The new face was quite the change from the Raeth he was used to but she wore it well.
“Suits you,” he said cryptically and Raeth smiled at the compliment.
As Raeth moved to greet him, Logan caught a brief glimpse of silver against her forearms. He suppressed a smile. He should have known that she wouldn’t be able to go completely unarmed. Logan was willing to bet that she had other weapons secreted about her as well.
For his part, Lan’thor had clearly taken pains to leave his youth behind. When Logan had first met him, Lan’thor was very fond of his wardrobe, always wearing the latest styles. The bright colours and fashions had made him seem quite the dandy, for lack of a better word. Tonight, he was dressed simply, in deep blue breeches and a matching jacket with a white linen shirt beneath it. He kept fiddling with his collar and grumbling.
“I hate this thing, stupid collar.”
“Now come on, Lan,” El teased. “You used to be so proud of your wardrobe.”
“Things change!” Lan announced, sticking his tongue out at her. “Give me a simple tunic and breeches any day.”
This pronouncement was simply too much and both El and Logan found they couldn’t contain their laughter. Lan’thor’s responding scowl did nothing to quiet them and, in fact, had exactly the opposite effect. It was good to be with friends, and all four were able to relax as they chatted amiably.
Logan, and even Raeth, despite her time living amongst the Elves, were the objects of much curiosity from several of the warriors as they waited for the food to be served. Logan didn’t think he would ever be comfortable with the attention, but he was definitely becoming used to it. A quick glance at Raeth showed him that she was fully in character and seemed to be handling the attention much better. Apparently, she was treating the whole situation as a role she was required to play in order to complete a job. Her adaptability was frightening. Logan knew, they all did, that Raeth loathed being the focus of attention, however, there were times when her profession made it necessary. To take on someone’s identity, she had to play the part to the fullest and sometimes that meant becoming outgoing and gregarious as she was now.
Whatever it takes to get the job done, Logan thought.
The layout of the banquet hall was just as Logan remembered it. The large five-pointed star shaped table occupied the centre of the room and a dozen tables formed a semi-circle in front of it. Normally, the clan chiefs sat at the apex of each of the star’s points, representing air, water, earth, fire and spirit with the rest of the clan hierarchy sitting towards the base in descending importance of their position. The remaining clan members occupied the tables surrounding the star. Since this was a private function, Logan doubted that level of formality would be observed, particularly since not all the clans were present tonight.
Logan’s guess was confirmed a moment later as the food began to arrive and was set-up on the main table.
“No assigned seats,” explained Lan. “Da isn’t much for pomp and circumstance. He prefers to keep things a bit more laid back when he can.”
Several of the guests began to make their way toward the main table to help themselves to food, though many more had taken up residence around the large ale casks that had just been
wheeled in. The celebration began in earnest.
The Morning Is Going To Hurt
The ale flowed freely as the evening progressed, and before very long, it began to work its own sort of magic. Voices were raised, laughter became raucous and everyone chatted amiably, sharing stories that seemed to grow wilder and more exciting with each retelling.
Lean’thor was clearly enjoying his party and, as all good leaders, he was setting the example for his warriors by leading the festivities and showing his newest recruits how to drink like a true Elf, toasting a young Elf’s health before downing his mug of ale.
“El, my dear!” the big Elf bellowed when he spotted her, bounding towards her and wrapping her up in a hug. “Congratulations!”
El squirmed a little as she found herself caught in the clan chief’s powerful embrace and tried to maintain a sense of decorum. Lean’thor gave her a wink and spun her round before finally putting her down. Holding her at arm’s length, Lean’thor leaned back to regard her, a wistful smile on his face and what appeared to be the start of a tear in his eye.
“Ah, El’dreathia, I remember when you were just a wee little wisp of a thing, causing trouble wherever you went. Ran this village ragged, you did.” The clan chief laughed out loud. “I guess you still do.”
El blushed as the tall Elf laughed.
“And Logan!” Lean’thor clapped Logan heavily on the back. “You’ve made quite the stir with your visits to our little village.”
“Purely accidental, I promise you, Lean’thor.”
Lean’thor roared with laughter.
“No worries, my young friend! No worries! I firmly believe that Er’thaental is in need of a bit of shaking up.” Lean’thor sobered slightly. “Though I don’t think my view is shared by many of the other clan chiefs,” he concluded.
Shaking off the momentary sentiment, he returned his attention to Logan and El.
“Well, never mind that now. This is supposed to be a celebration and celebrate, we shall. We’ll celebrate as only warriors can!” he finished with a bellow as he gestured loosely toward the crowd.
A great cheer rose up from around the room and the warriors toasted with their mugs of ale.
“Ale! We need more ale!” Lean’thor shouted across the room.
A server quickly appeared at his elbow with a fresh pitcher of ale.
“This is what family is meant to be,” he announced, casting his arms wide before proceeding to drain his mug in one mighty swallow.
Everyone revelled in the sheer joy of being amongst friends, laughing and drinking and just generally enjoying the camaraderie of warriors everywhere.
Lean’thor eventually grew silent, thought the party raged about him, and led them to the table Lan and Raeth had claimed, waiving them all to take a seat. For several moments Lean’thor said nothing, his discerning gaze fixed on Logan. It was in that moment that Logan realized that the clan chief was nowhere near as drunk as he appeared. Finally, Lean’thor broke his silence, his voice firm and serious with no sign of the ale in it.
“I want to thank you, lad. I want to thank you for bringing my Lan’thor to his senses.”
Lan’thor sputtered into his ale. “Da! There was nothing wrong with me before.”
Lean’thor looked at his son for a long moment and shook his head sadly.
“I wish that were true, my boy, but we both know it’s not.” Holding up his hand to forestall any argument, he continued. “It was probably my fault, son, but you were well on your way to becoming an obnoxious, pain in the arse.”
Lan stared in wide-eyed shock at his father.
“Don’t look like that, lad,” his father chided. “Like I said, it was likely my fault, but you can’t deny it. Ask anyone.”
Lan’thor looked around the table and was met with serious faces and nods of agreement from the older warriors nearby. He blushed bright red and struggled for words. Logan came to his friend’s rescue.
“Lean’thor, believe me when I tell you that Lan’thor taught me more on our travels than I ever could teach him. He saved my life so many times, I’ll be indebted to him forever.”
Lean’thor smiled and winked at Logan.
“Thanks for saying that, lad, spoken like a true comrade in arms. But, Lan knows, if he’s honest with himself, the type of Elf he was becoming.”
Lan’thor nodded reluctantly in agreement.
“It’s true,” he agreed with a sigh. “Though,” he added gazing about, making sure he made eye contact with the warriors who’d agreed so readily with his father’s assessment. “You could have said something sooner.”
The earnestness of his delivery caught the warriors off guard and they broke out into deep heartfelt laughter with him before finally raising their mugs and toasting his change. His own father toasted him as a warrior to be proud of. This took much of the sting from the earlier embarrassment and Lan was flushed with the praise.
The drinking and celebrating went on for hours. Unlike the previous function Logan had attended in Er’thaental, which had been far more formal with representatives of all the clans in attendance, this evening’s company was mainly the warriors and their partners. Ale flowed and was spilled, bawdy songs and limericks were given full voice, often making the ladies present blush. It was truly a celebration. Like the children of most races in Tir’an, Logan had grown up believing Elves terribly arrogant and stiff, unable to relax, and walked with a staff perpetually stuck up their backsides. But as the night wore on, he realized that these tales were gross exaggerations. Some of the Elves he had met fit that description perfectly, but these were warriors, and warriors were warriors.
It was the same the world over. When it came time to fight they laid their lives on the line no matter the risk, but when the fighting was over, they celebrated as only warriors could. They attacked the task of having a good time with the same fervour they attacked the battlefield.
As the night wore on and the ale casks were put to rest, several members of the clan were lost, some dragged home by their more conscientious partners or simply passed out on or under the tables. Night began its march towards early morning, though sun-up was still a long way off. Lean’thor still held court at the table with Lan’thor, Raeth, El’dreathia, Logan and several higher ranked warriors. Le’land joined them earlier, but he had found the sheer volume of alcohol far beyond his limit and was now snoring loudly on the floor at Lan’thor’s feet. El had watched the young warrior as he battled to maintain consciousness, and she nudged Logan who, in turn, nudged Lan and so on down the table until everyone at the table was staring at the young warrior just as he finally slid out of his chair to the floor.
“The young ones!” Lean’thor announced with a smile. “They’ll learn to hold their ale one day.”
The table erupted in laughter. Logan was just happy that his healing ability kept him somewhat sober or he would have beaten Le’land to the floor. He knew he’d never have heard the end of that.
No one said you had to try and match Lean’thor drink for drink! El’s voice rang in his mind.
Logan smiled to her and raised his mug in mock toast. He was about to respond with something witty and intelligent when the hall doors suddenly burst open. The skinniest, most bedraggled Elf Logan had ever seen stumbled into the hall. His skin was dark as night, his hair matted and tangled. He wore little more than rags, and blood seeped from the many small wounds and scratches that covered his body. But it was his eyes that Logan would remember best, they were crazed with fear as he stared around the chamber before they finally rolled back in his head, showing nothing but white. The Dark Elf collapsed unconscious to the floor.
A hush fell over the room as several warriors rushed towards the fallen Dark Elf. Murmurs of concern began to rise throughout the room as Lean’thor quickly took charge of the situation. He had the Dark Elf removed from the hall and taken to a private chamber, calling for Frea’lin, the chief healer, as he joined them.
The hall became a buzz of curiosity a
s speculation ran rampant. After several minutes one of the serving Elves came and sought Lan’thor out, explaining to him that his father required his presence.
Unexpected Guests
The sudden arrival of the exhausted and injured Dark Elf brought the festivities to an abrupt halt. Amongst those still to be found in the hall, speculation ran rampant, the buzz of curiosity quickly replacing the boisterous celebrating. Lan’thor had left with his father’s messenger and in his absence Raeth, El’dreathia and Logan sat quietly discussing the situation.
“All the clan leaders will be involved,” El explained. “I’d think they’re being woken up as we speak. Other than Raeth, a Dark Elf hasn’t been seen here in decades, and for one to arrive in such a state… Well, whatever’s going on will involve the whole village.”
“We might want to find someplace quiet, and more private, to discuss things,” said Logan, casting a wary look around the hall. “I mean, that was a Dark Elf right? I wouldn’t think it’ll take too long before someone comes to ask Raeth about it. I don’t think any of us, Lan included, want to deal with the results of that particular conversation right now.”
Raeth had pretty much come to that same conclusion and quickly expressed her agreement. El frowned but conceded the point, rising and leading them away from the main hall and into one of the smaller, more private side chambers. This room was simply furnished in the traditional Elfin way, but was still more than adequate for their needs. Logan quickly found a comfortable leaf chair while El leaned against the table and Raeth, as was her habit, quickly examined the room for possible escape routes. Logan fought a smile as he watched her. It was amazing the things that became habit.
Though to be fair this particular habit has likely saved her life on more than one occasion, he decided.
“I didn’t know there were Dark Elves here?” Raeth asked, standing with her back to the wall beside the window. “I thought they were only found in the Great Swamp.”
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