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Saga of Daie d'Malkin 5-Sticks and Stones...


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#1 Guest_Daie_*

Posted 22 April 2005 - 07:14 PM

Sticks and Stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me!

-Child's rhyme


I wake, and climb wearily from my blankets. I wipe the sleep from my eyes, and pull clean clothes from my pack. I quickly dress, and leave my tent.
Outside, I see Maron, Minstra and, her sat by the pile of grey ash and blackened wood that marks the grave of the previous night’s fire.
They greet me as one would a new friend, or a family member you had not seen for months. I feel that I have won their respect somewhat. Yesterday showed them my skill in combat, and a feeling of trust radiates from them. Raven however, seems cold, distant this morning. I think I should apologise, I don’t like her being angry at me.
My thoughts are interrupted when Minstra asks some question about breakfast. I give a non-committal answer, and sit down near the ladies. Minstra rises, and heads of in search of nourishment for all of us.
Soon enough, my thoughts are dragged back to Raven. I watch her, as she sits and waits for the food.
She’s so beautiful, I think.
She stretches, then tucks her hair back beyond her ears, irritably.
“Darthiir, stop staring at me!” she snaps.
I feel the blush spread across my face. I hadn’t realised I’d been staring. “I-I-I’m sorry, M-mistress Raven.” I stammer. Smooth, I think.
“Ah, yes, the fascination of you surfacers with apologies. I offended someone, so why don’t I offer a few meaningless, empty words that will resolve the situation. I doubt you care, elf.” She continues, scathingly.
I find myself unable to reply. Her harsh words cut to my core, and I cannot counter them.
“Just go, Darthiir. Leave my sight” she spits, finishing me off.
I stand up, draw myself up coldly, and look down my nose at her. “So, drow, you show your true colours at last. I shall return later, when you drag your venom filled carcass elsewhere.”
This said, I stalk back into my tent, and fasten the door behind myself. I sink down into my blankets again, and cover myself. Only when this is done, when I am finally alone, do the fierce tears cascade down my cheeks.




I have sat by the dead fire for a few moments, before Maron speaks.
“What in the hells was that for?”
I glare at her. “The wael offended me. I reacted appropriately.”
“Appropriately?!” she screamed “Appropriately!? Raven, he may have disobeyed you yesterday, but there was no call for your behaviour! He’s hardly more than a child! Although, after yesterday’s display, I think he is entitled to some respect.”
I scowl “So he beat Dranald. So what?”
“He beat you too, Rave. Easily.” She whispers, as she leaves.
As I sit there, cold and alone in the early hours of the new day, I realise with terrible regret that I have made a horrible mistake.
By the time Minstra arrives with our breakfast, I am weeping copiously.
“Rave! What’s wrong?” she asks, carefully placing our food beside me, before sitting, and casting an arm around my shoulder. I feel the need to shake it off, assert my dominance, but am frankly afraid of losing a third friend in as many minutes.
I am unable to reply-I open my mouth to speak, to ask her advice, but all that comes out is a choked sob. So we sit there, me weeping, her holding me, my best, and it now seems, only friend.




Later that day, after I have slept, I return to the fire, and find, as I had earlier prophesised, that I have returned when Raven is elsewhere. Maron and Minstra sit in silence, as Minstra reads a book, and Maron fiddles with her pack.
The sun is out, and the air is warm. I shrug off my tunic, and fling it to the floor, a tad more violently than is socially acceptable.
Maron casts a wary eye over me. “No change then?”
“None.” I reply shortly. She’s right, I am still angry. I’m not only angry at Raven, but at my own reactions to her words. After I had returned to my bed, I cried for the best part of an hour, before slipping into sleep. Why did the harsh words of a practical stranger affect me so badly? Why did a handful of insults flung at me by a drow of all things make me feel so wretched? Why do I still feel like life has lost its meaning?
I slump down onto my tunic, and sit quietly, my shoulders hunched, my head down on my chest.




He sits there, all hunched up into a little ball, a look of fury on his face. It crosses my mind that he looks cute when he’s angry, but I push that thought to one side. My own anger has subsided by now. Living and working with Raven for the last three years, I have become accustomed to her temper, and know that tonight, or possibly tomorrow, she will make a quiet apology to me, and all will be well. Daie however, doesn’t know about this. Here is the danger. He may take her at her words, and refuse any apology from a sense of foolish pride, and childish stubbornness. And, she is less likely to offer him any kind of regrets, as he was stupid enough to answer her back, to fling insults back at her. Especially after his final remarks. She has tried so hard over the last few years to remove herself from the stigma of her drow heritage, and he has just flung it back at her, told her that he expects her to behave like some kind of Machiavellian villain, simply because of her race.
Still, I think, His methods may have been wrong, but he was in the right. He was fully entitled to defend himself after her attack.
He’s still sat there, frowning.
“If the wind changes, you’re face will stay like that.” I remark.
His frown lessens, and is replaced by a look of bafflement. “Wha?” he asks.
I laugh. “Don’t let it get to you. In a couple of days, it’ll all be forgotten”
I hope.


Don’t let it get to you? How the hells do I do that? Of course it got to me! Hardly the thing you expect, first thing in the morning.
I stop, and take a deep breath. I’m working myself into a terrible funk, I realise. Calm, Vanya, Calm.
I hear someone step up to the circle of logs, but I don’t look up.
“Maron…Daie, Could I have a word?”
Raven.


I can’t believe I’m doing this. Eating crow. Why am I even bothering? Maron knows the score. She’s probably been expecting this. I look over, glancing at her face. A look of astonishment sits there. Wh… Of course. She wasn’t expecting me to come apologise to Daie. I still don’t know why I am.
After we argued, I was furious with him, but not for long. Another emotion took hold, one I can’t put a name too, but I was scared rigid at the prospect of never speaking to him again. I wanted to run after him, to apologise, to embrace him, to kiss him?

Oh Gods. I know what that’s called.

That’s why I cried, something I had not done for nearly five years, since first leaving the Underdark for this strange new world
where the sun blinds and burns you. Where people hunt you for crimes your species committed in their nightmares. Where foolish drow girls fall in love with handsome young strangers.

Maron stands up, breaking my internal monologue. She comes to stand beside me. I understand the gesture. She accepts my apology. My spirits lift slightly.
I look to Daie. He faces away from me. His shoulders are shaking.
“Daie?” I ask, tentatively.
“Leave me” he coldly replies.
I feel as if someone had impaled me with a lance of ice and fire. I can feel tears behind my eyes, but I will not weep here. I have wept before others once today, but I will not show such weakness again.
“Daie, she’s trying to apologise.” Maron gently reprimands him
“Offer a few meaningless, empty words that will resolve the situation. I doubt you care, drow.” He throws my own words back at me, heartlessly.
He turns to look me in the eyes. I’m shocked. The anger in his words has not reached his eyes. They are full of tears. He shoots me a look, combining many emotions. Wounded pride, hurt betrayal, and one I feel myself, deep, bitter sadness and regret that this has come between us.
He gets up, and walks away from me for the second time that day. I feel myself slump. My knees almost give way.
Maron watches him go, then turns back to me. “Why did you apologise so quickly?” She looks into my eyes. “Oh Gods, you are joking, right?”
I sadly shake my head.
She sighs “Well, that explains why you apologised, even after his words. But, are you sure.”
I sadly nod my head.
As she opened her mouth to speak, I clutched her arm, in a panic. “Tell no-one. He hates me, and I could not bear him finding out about my weakness.”
Maron groaned “It’s hardly a weakness Raven. In some ways it can be a strength.”
“How?” I asked
Her silence is telling, I think.




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