Dockalfar

by Nunn, PL

  “Perhaps.”

  She looked about the hall. There were so many sidhe in attendance.

  Practically the whole of the court. She did not see Alex or Leanan, which was a relief. Although on more than one occasion she did see a certain amount of malevolence in the same set of blue eyes.

  She half remembered the lady from past glimpses. She had seen her on Azeral’s arm more than once. She could not remember her name. But from the jealousy burning in those eyes, she thought she might find out sooner than she liked.

  When the present dance ended and the band prepared for another piece, Victoria begged for a rest. Azeral let her go with an indifferent shrug. She made for the tables of refreshment. She procured a glass of sweet cider and loitered on the sidelines as the tireless sidhe swept the floor in yet another waltz. A few sidhe, not engaged in the dance migrated towards her. The woman was among them.

  Victoria steeled herself for confrontation.

  There were two males with the woman. Both young seeming, but what sidhe wasn’t? One blonde, one silver haired. The woman had a stunning fall of sunlight golden hair beaded with chips of sapphire.

  “Forgive Azeral.” The woman smiled upon her. She was quite beautiful. “Sometimes he forgets that not all races have the endurance of the sidhe.”

  Not certain if the apology was benevolent or condescending, Victoria only nodded, eyeing the three warily over the top of her glass as she took a sip. The silver haired male smiled slightly, taking her free hand without her leave and bringing it to his lips.

  “Ah, but for a human she moves beautifully.”

  “Yes, I suppose she does have some natural rhythm,” the woman agreed, as though it pained her. The male continued to hold Victoria’s hand. Carefully she extracted the member.

  “I do better with fairies,” she said politely. “Your dance is so restrained in comparison.”

  The woman lifted a brow in surprise.

  The male’s grin widened.

  “Ah, she dances with fairies. A rare human indeed. And so lovely. All my prejudices against humans have been banished after seeing one so fetching.”

  Victoria lifted a brow of her own.

  “Are you talking to me or about me?”

  The male’s eyes sparkled. “At the moment, to you, but after tonight, I think I’ll be talking about you rather frequently.”

  She shook her head in embarrassed amusement. “Oh my. I feel ravished and don’t even remember it.”

  “I’m at your convenience,” he assured her.

  She laughed. Her first genuine laugh since coming here. This sidhe reminded her of Alkar. “I don’t even know your name, sir.”

  He lifted both brows, then suddenly bowed at the waist, sweeping out one arm in an elaborate gesture. “Deigah, my lady. I am Deigah.”

  “I’m Victoria.”

  “We all know your name,” the female said with a tight smile.

  “Neferia is only miffed because Azeral has found no time to dance with her tonight,” Deigah supplied, getting a icy glare from Neferia for his trouble.

  Victoria glanced quickly to the woman.

  “Well you’ve the rest of the night, I don’t think I could dance another step.”

  Neferia sniffed. Deigah waved a hand in dismissal.

  “Nonsense. You’ve only just started. The Olveiear waltz is starting, I insist you dance it with me.” He gave her no time to protest. Merely took her glass from her hand, sat it down and pulled her out into the swaying crowd. They flew around the great expanse of floor in what could only be termed as wild abandon. The ‘waltz’ was hardly a sedate exercise in ballroom dancing. Deigah made her laugh. His elegance was not tinged with regulate as with Azeral. His intensity was not sobering, it was daring and exciting and she found herself enjoying the dance.

  They circled the floor so many times she was dizzy by the time he led her to the side for a well deserved breather. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement and for the moment, her troubles forgotten.

  “That was wonderful,” she admitted.

  “Of course,” he said, as if she were stating the obvious.

  “I did not come tonight expecting to enjoy myself.”

  He filled a goblet for her. “Do you find it so horrible here?”

  She did not wish to think about her grievances now. It would only deflate the unexpected good mood she found herself in.

  “Have you always been here?” she asked instead. “At Azeral’s keep?”

  Deigah laughed. “For many of your human centuries. I was born in Tezlem’s court, though. A court none so grand as this one I assure you.”

  “Centuries? How old are you?”

  “In your terms? A millennium perhaps. Otto the Great was a power in your world when I was a youngling.”

  “The Ottoman Empire?” It took a moment to digest that thought. She ventured to ask. “And Azeral? How old is he?”

  Deigah smiled slyly. “Your race was rather young when he breathed his first. Ten millennia. Twenty? Azeral is very old.”

  She took a breath, released it very slowly. Old? Old did not begin to describe it. She knew Ashara was old and Neira’sha was ancient, but twenty thousand years? There had to be some mistake. Some confusion of just how human years were measured. Were sidhe immortal? Did they last for eternity? Or did they measure age on the same terms that the mountains did? Thousands of years passing even for a gradual change.

  How could one keep the boredom of eternal living at bay?

  She stood against a marble column, staring at a sea of folk older than her country. Older than most human relics. It was inconceivable that none of them seemed bowed by the passage of all that time. Their gaiety spoke of youth and energy. It told nothing of a thousand years of experience, of wisdom and knowledge.

  They might have been children at a birthday party for all the maturity they displayed.

  A smooth hand slid over her shoulder. She looked up at Deigah. He moved his fingers to her jaw, tilting her head back, brushing the soft skin with his thumb. His smile was lazy, sensuous.

  “Will you leave with me?” He was pulling her away even as he asked. She had the feeling the question was mere formality with him. She resisted, suddenly aware that his gaze was too intense, and his hands too familiar. Something integral in his eyes had changed. He now wanted more of her than he had. It did not quite frighten her. It was flattering that such a creature could want her above the beautiful sidhe women in attendance. She disengaged her arm from his grasp and stepped back, half smiling.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m exhausted.”

  His lips pulled back into a charming grin. Sidhe teeth were sharper than human ones.

  “Let me take you somewhere you can lie down.” His fingers were back on her elbow, a tighter grip this time. He guided her along the wall. Sidhe eyes followed their movement. Eyes full of speculation and curiosity.

  Small fingers of unease began to creep up her spine. She did not wish to leave the dubious safety of the court’s presence with this sidhe male. He had turned too predatory for her well being.

  “No,” she stated, on the fine line between politeness and command. “Azeral is waiting for me.” Put in a name he was bound to respect.

  “Azeral is with Neferia. He is well occupied.”

  She dug in her heels and twisted her elbow from his grip. She stepped back quickly, out of easy reach. He turned appraising eyes upon her.

  “I said I was tired. I’m no longer in the mood for company tonight.”

  He must have seen the determination in her face, for he shrugged placidly.

  “Of course. Another time, perhaps?”

  She refused to answer. Merely shook her head slightly and backed into the crowd. As soon as he was out of sight, she made for the alcove leading out of the great hall. For a long moment, she stood outside, breathing in the fresh air of relief.

  It was so easy to forget how dangerous this place was. All it took was one slip for the jaws to snap shut and then she woul
d be lost.

  ~~~

  The memory of returning to her room was vague and hazy. Victoria suspected the sweet cider she had partaken of the night before. She had gone to sleep with the music playing in her head and the discomforting feeling of being made to do something she did not wish to do.

  The cool breeze drifting in through her window helped chase away the vestiges of sleep. She yawned and stretched, staring at the filmy curtains over her bed cushions. The light coming in from the window had the white, colorless quality of early morning. She knew from experience that the keep would be practically deserted of sidhe until late afternoon when the night’s revelers finally found the reserves to rise. She would be relatively safe in the empty halls with no one but the servants about.

  Wrapping a silken robe about her shoulders she went in search of the breakfast tray that was always waiting for her when she awoke. The bendithy servants seemed to know exactly when each of their charges habitually rose. She was thinking about taking a leisurely bath when she became aware of being observed.

  A moment of panic stole over her.

  She froze, trying to orient the sense of not being alone. Her eyes darted about the room and found it empty. There was no place for an observer to hide. She swung around, clutching the robe to her throat and suddenly caught a splotch of color at the window that did not belong there.

  Bright green and red, yellow and blue. A ruffle of movement, and then her brain made sense of what her eyes were seeing.

  A pair of birds. Parrot like in color and size. More exotic than anything she had ever seen, with their streamers of feathers and bright intelligent eyes. The two of them sat very calmly on her window sill watching her. The great dark eyes blinked slowly, and one bird carelessly scratched the back of its neck with one sharply taloned claw.

  Victoria took a deep, awed breath.

  She had known birds lived in the forests surrounding the keep, for their various cries reached her high window, but she had never seen them broach the thick green roof of the forest proper. Very carefully she extended an arm, crooning softly that they were intelligent, pretty birds. The larger of the two lifted an impressive crest and fluffed the feathers of its breast. Victoria was not certain if it was a movement of aggression or one of attention. She did not wish to encounter either the dangerously curved beak or the sharp claws that scraped against the stone of the window ledge. She withdrew the hand and settled for asking in a perplexed voice.

  “What are you doing all the way up here, pretty birds?”

  She was not exactly expecting an answer, but the smaller of the two, a green and yellow bird that looked much like a Macaw, let out a musical trill of song. The larger squawked in a less pleasant tone, then spread its wings and dropped backwards off the ledge. The smaller hoped about and took off in a more conventional manner.

  Victoria gasped and ran to the ledge.

  She leaned far over and caught sight of the two birds gracefully gliding over the lower towers and ledges of the keep and towards the cloud like surface of the forest ceiling. They dipped beneath the foliage and disappeared.

  The closest Victoria could come to the outside world without being abruptly turned away by some odious ogre or smug sidhe, were the gardens and terraces overlooking the outer courtyard of the keep. From certain vantage points she could see the comings and goings of bendithy and spriggans, the odd ogre patrol or a dour handful of dwarves leaving to do she had no notion what with axes and picks over their stout shoulders.

  Hunters who had left long before her rising returned with game laden mounts, and bendithy women came back pulling small carts of fruits and roots gathered from the bounty of the mountain forests.

  The garden terrace over the keep’s great stable was her favorite look out. She loved watching the spirited nighthorses as they were put through their paces outside the covered stables, or geared up for this rider or that. The stable hands consisted mostly of bendithy, although occasionally an ogre would be needed to control a particularly spirited animal. Spriggans, she noted, kept their distance from the stables. She remembered Bashru’s and his nighthorse’s mutual distaste for one another. The night horses were treated with due respect by all. Even the ogres were wary of their sharp teeth and filed hooves.

  She was sitting along in the small garden, thinking about the visit from the birds when the outside gates opened and a foursome of riders galloped in. A fifth horse was laden with the carcass of some large game. Something was almost lizard like in appearance but larger by far that any reptile she had seen. The riders were sidhe, outfitted in colorful light armor for the hunt. Two were clearly female from the almost ridiculous cut of the armor, made to show the female figure to the best of its ability. The breast plate was nothing more than decoration. Low cut and molded to full bosoms. The helmets were of delicately crafted silver and bronze.

  They would hardly have protected against hail, much less combat.

  As they were dismounting she noticed that one of the men was considerably shorter than the other and lacked the willowy grace of the most sidhe. She looked closer as they took off helmets and realized why. The second male was no sidhe, but a human. She should have sat back and ignored them, she should have gone away and found some more peaceful spot to spend her hours, but she did not.

  She leaned forward and stared down into the courtyard. Alex and Leanan and two others she did not recognize, were standing about the reptilian game the ogre guardsmen were pulling down off the nighthorse which served as pack beast.

  She could not hear their discourse, although they all seemed satisfied with the results of the hunt. No wonder she had not seen Alex or his paramour at the ball.

  They had been out of the keep on a hunt.

  She pulled back a bit as they turned towards the keep. The women headed in one direction, laughing, while the men started in another, disappearing through one of the portals beneath where she sat.

  She remained still for a moment more, watching as the bendithy removed tack from the tired nighthorses, then she sprang to her feet and almost ran from the garden.

  She hit the stairs at a dead run, taking several at a time, and skidded to a stop in the lower hall. A bendithy serving girl blinked at her in surprise, almost dropping a heaping armful of clean towels.

  “The riders who just came in. Have they passed this way?” Victoria asked, out of breath. The girl shook her head, then her eyes widened as she started behind Victoria. Victoria whirled. It took a moment for her mind to pick the details out from what her eyes saw. Gray on gray.

  Stone walls and stone colored figure that did not quite fit in with the harsh lines of masonry. If it hadn’t been for the almost normal skin tone above the line of clothing she might not have seen him passing.

  “Dusk?” Her heart was hammering in her chest. She felt like it was about to come up her throat and out of her mouth.

  His eyes were on her, pale gray and expressionless. Just a moment as he acknowledged her presence, then he ignored her and continued on. She took an uncertain step after him, but he was gone.

  He may not have been trying to conceal himself before, but she felt certain that he was giving it his best efforts now. She wanted to curse, but the footsteps from the other direction drew her attention.

  Footfalls that were harsh and solid against the stone floor and shadows that did nothing to blend out their own notoriety.

  The Sidhe came first, pulling off riding gloves as he walked, dirt smearing his inhumanly sculptured features. There were communal baths down this hall, she thought. That’s where they were headed.

  She saw Alex before he saw her. He was running one hand through sweat streaked hair. There were circles of blue under his eyes and a line of filth where his helmet had not protected his face. With the dirt and the weariness he reminded her of the real Alex. The one she had grown up with. The one who had left her full of youthful pride to go to war and come back a tired man drained of youthful fantasy.

  He looked up and saw her without
her even having to say his name. His step faltered. The sidhe went on without caring or noticing that his companion was not keeping up.

  “You’ve been hunting,” she said, for lack of anything better. He stopped a few yards from her, staring with open uncertainty. She was very conscious, suddenly, of how she looked. Of the cream colored silk that fell off her shoulders and fell in a pool of material behind her. Of the low cut bodice that sparkled with tiny chips of gemstone. Of her hair which swung freely and unadorned about her face and shoulders, a deep, gold streaked red. She thought, without a ounce of egotism, that for what she was, a human girl, she was above average. But here among the sidhe, she was small and coarse and no better than the bendithy half breeds which served them.

  “Yes,” he answered her. She could tell he was nervous. She remembered their last meeting.

  “Did you enjoy the kill?” she asked, feeling a touch of malice.

  “No,” he answered simply.

  She blinked at him. “Then why did you go?”

  “Leanan enjoys it,” he answered, as if that were all the explanation needed. It was.

  “And Leanan is the end all to everything? Does Azeral’s daughter make you happy, Alex?” she asked, not knowing why she was putting herself though the misery of discussing Leanan. He stared at her as if he were just as perplexed.

  “Victoria… what are you doing here?”

  “I’ve little choice on the matter,” she snapped. “And I asked you a question. Is Leanan everything you’re looking for? Does she make you forget about me?”

  “Sometimes,” he admitted and she felt her stomach wrench in misery.

  “How long did it take, to forget about what we had? What the hell did she offer you, Alex?”

  Helplessly he shook his head. “I don’t know. It just happened, all right? Don’t do this to yourself.”

  “Don’t tell me you care? That would be too much. It really would. Besides, Leanan would be furious if she got wind.”

  He took a step towards her, caught her upper arms and glared down in her sparkling green eyes. He half shook her, then suddenly stopped, his own eyes widening as he looked down on her.