In The Cards

It has taken me some time, but I think I've finally learnt to ignore the opinions of those who don't matter and treasure the opinions of those who do matter. Not easy, but it does save you some heartache.

Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'

"Edwin? What is this, exactly?" Imoen asked as she watched the contents of her plate. It had been the Red Wizard's turn to do the cooking that evening, and the results were interesting to say the least. It looked more or less like some form of stew, which was traditional adventurer's fare. There was meat and vegetables, nothing odd about that. Even the vivid red color might have been overlooked. And it certainly smelled tasty. It was just that the fumes made your eyes water if you leaned too close over the cauldron, and that a fly that had happened to fly across it had died instantly and dropped into the food where it immediately dissolved. Edwin insisted that the insect was bound to be nutritious and that it was illogical to be bothered by it, but Imoen couldn't quite overlook the implications.

"Thayvian cuisine," Edwin explained. "Or as close to it as you get in these barbaric hinterlands. It's not perfect, but it's as close to perfection as it's possible to come with these limited resources."

"So," Zaerini said, "instead of boring old rabbit stew we get Thayvian rabbit stew? What's the difference?" The bard was sitting in the soft grass, her legs crossed, golden eyes glittering in the twilight as she gave the wizard an amused look that also held a sort of unspoken challenge and invitation. It's amazing that he doesn't see it, Imoen thought. But then she doesn't see the way he looks at her either, does she? As if she were…I don't know…some sort of wonderful and magical secret that he's trying to figure out but can't quite wrap his head around. It's really very romantic. I wonder if I should tell Rini? But I don't know if I ought to interfere. Suppose I ruined everything? Still, I wish they'd do something about it soon.

"The difference," Edwin went on, "is the spices. I realize that this is probably an alien concept to you Westerners, but in Thay we prefer for our food to actually taste something. I am, of course, extraordinarily skilled at preparing succulent treats to gently tease the tastebuds."

"Of course you are." The bard grinned. "Well, I've always loved spicy food. I place myself at your mercy, oh Chef of Chefs."

"A wise decision, and one you will never regret. (I just wish this could have been a private dining room, so we didn't have to watch all these monkeys chew.)"

Zaerini accepted a plate of stew and gingerly tasted it. Then her face lit up with a wide smile. "Hey, this is good!" she said. "Really, really good. Just the way I like it."

"In that case," Jaheira said, "I believe I will have some as well. Khalid?"

"Y-yes," Khalid agreed. "I s-suppose so." Imoen thought about warning them. She knew what they didn't, after all. Her best friend's taste for spices wasn't exactly orthodox. Nah. I'm sure they can handle it. And the river's not that far off.

"What about me?" Coran asked. The archer had been a bit more subdued until his warts wore off, but now he was coming back in full force. "Don't I get any, or are you afraid I'll put you to shame?" He directed a smoldering look at Zaerini. "As I certainly will. Lovely one, you should know by now that my skills and strengths are unsurpassable - in every field this human can think of with his crooked mind. I would be happy to demonstrate just that, any time you wish…"

"Afraid?" Edwin said with a malicious smile. "Hardly, but perhaps you ought to be. I would venture to guess that you lack both the legendary stamina and…ardor…of Thayvian males, so I would strongly advice you against attempting to taste what you are unworthy to touch, or even to dream about. (I, on the other hand, like nothing better than playing with fire.)"

"I can match you in any twisted game you device, Istar! Give it here!"

"Certainly," Edwin said and handed the elf a plate. "Just a…friendly word of caution."

"You're friend to nothing and nobody, dark one. But I am born of the eldest race, and I'll answer any challenge you come up with - in blood, if need be." Coran scooped up a large spoonful of steaming stew, put it in his mouth and swallowed. There were approximately three seconds of stunned silence. Then the elf's face turned a vivid scarlet bright enough to match Edwin's robes, sweat started pouring forth from his face and Imoen could swear she saw his hair curling at the tips. "YAAAARRRRGH!" Coran screamed. "You foul…evil…oooh, it burns…I'll get you for this, Utinu en lokirim!" He rushed off, still screaming and swearing in the direction of the river. Jaheira and Khalid very deliberately set their plates aside.

"I will go after him and make sure he does not drown," Jaheira said. She gave Edwin a reproachful look. "Was that really necessary?"

"What?" the wizard asked innocently. "I warned him, didn't I?" He turned to scream after the retreating back of Coran. "I did warn you, amada! Lasta lalaithamin!" He laughed quietly to himself as the two Harpers went after the elf.

"You speak elvish?" Zaerini asked, sounding incredulous.

"Some," Edwin nonchalantly explained. "I have received a thorough education, you know. I know the most important phrases of all the great languages."

"Such as common insults?" the bard asked with a wide grin.

"Well…yes. Orcish is much better than elvish for swearing, mind you. Troll is even better. (True, those words and phrases weren't exactly part of the curriculum, but looking up good insults is what dictionaries are for, after all.)"

Imoen giggled. "So, what did you say to each other?"

"After he referred to me as 'son of snakes' I called him a fool. Which he is. Oh, and I told him to 'hear my laughter'. I would have gone on, but I suppose I'll have to save the better parts for later."

"Just don't kill him," Zaerini said with a small sigh. "I wouldn't like that." She rose from her sitting position. "Well, I liked the food anyway, even if poor Coran didn't. Think I'll just go for a short walk around the camp before I go to sleep." She raised her hand in farewell and then moved off into the shadows, Softpaws close on her heels. Edwin watched her as she walked off, a peculiar mixture of longing and frustration in his eyes.

"Maybe you should go after her?" Imoen suggested.

Edwin started. He had obviously forgotten she was even present. "Wh-what?" he said. "I…I have no idea what you're talking about. None. None whatsoever."

"Sure you do." Imoen reached up to pat the much taller wizard on the shoulder. "Aw, don't worry too much. It'll work out, I'm sure. She's not really in love with Coran or anything. I can tell."

"I…I don't care!" Edwin sputtered. "Of course I don't. Not at all. Not the slightest bit interested, one way or the other, and you're a complete and utter brainless ninny for even suggesting it." He paused, and when next he spoke he sounded more than a little desperate. "Er…you're sure?"

"Sure I'm sure! She's my sister, you know. I can tell." Imoen thought of something. "Say, what was it you poured onto his plate anyway?"

"What? I didn't…"

"'Course you did! I saw you, even if nobody else did." Imoen grinned proudly. "I'm a rogue after all. I'm supposed to spot these things. What was it? Extra pepper?"

Edwin sighed. "Yes, you annoyingly perceptive little brat," he said. "Thayvian Red Pepper. His lying, honeyed tongue ought to be peeling properly by now, though I'm still surprised you spotted me. (This is getting worrying. She's becoming too good at this. I think she's been spending too much time with…certain people.)"

"Good for you," Imoen said approvingly. "Coran's fun in his own way, but I don't trust him to treat Rini right. He's more the 'fun in the night, gone in the morning' type, isn't he?" She was satisfied to see the wizard blush deeply. "Go on. Go and talk to her. Before Coran gets the same idea."

Edwin's eyes widened and he hurried off into the woods, muttering something about 'stretching his legs.'

That ought to help some, Imoen thought to herself. Now, if only somebody would do the same for me… She smiled to herself and settled into a happy daydream, featuring herself and a certain other rogue. The kissing parts were very satisfactory, and it got even better after that. Oooh! Once he's mine I don't know how I'll bring myself to even let him out of the door for a second. Hm. Wonder what he'd look like in, say, a nifty suit with lace on? She adjusted the mental picture accordingly. Wow! Just as hot. But perhaps even more interesting…how would he look without it? Another adjustment, and Imoen squealed with delight, fanning herself with her hand to keep down the rising heat in her cheeks. Just as I thought. Perfect. I mean, just look at that body! Keeping that covered up is a crime all by itself…

Zaerini had found herself a nice and quiet spot by a large oak tree. She was currently sitting on the ground, thinking things over. Coran's flattery had been entertaining at first, but now she was growing weary of it. She hoped they'd come across some wyverns soon so she'd be rid of him. Besides, if he sticks around much longer Eddie will most likely kill him. She shook her head. She'd seen the wizard annoyed before, certainly, but this new animosity seemed particularly strong.

Look at that, kitten, Softpaws said. We've got company.

The bard turned around, a welcoming smile on her face that faltered a little when she saw who it was. "Oh," she said. "Hello, Coran. Feeling better?"

"Much," the elf said, "thanks to Jaheira's assistance." He sat down next to her, just a little bit too close, and gave her a charming smile. "That black-hearted villain of a wizard may have tried his best to silence me, but the words of a true romantic will always out." He surreptitiously raised his arm and tried to sneak it around the bard's waist. Then he faltered as he noticed Softpaws. The familiar was sitting on the half-elf's shoulder, staring coldly at him with unblinking green eyes. She silently raised a paw in the direction of Coran's eyes and slid out a set of needle-like claws. Coran froze in mid-motion before carefully retracting his hand, very, very slowly. "Yes," the elf hastily carried on. "Much, much better. So much better in fact, that I thought perhaps I could give you a few lessons."

"Lessons?"

"Certainly." The smile was back in full force. "You mentioned before wanting to learn more of the elves?" Coran pointed dramatically at himself. "Well, here I am, in the flesh. Feel free to explore me in any way you like. I am at your full disposal, Mela en’ coiamin."

"And that means?"

"Mela en’ coiamin?" The elf looked immensely satisfied. "Why, that is a most useful Elvish phrase. It means 'love of my life.'"

That was rather sudden, wasn't it? Rini thought. She was starting to get vaguely uneasy. "Love of your life?" she asked. "And how many others have you said that to?"

Coran looked a little rattled for a second, but then the smile slid smoothly back into place. "What does it matter?" he said. "I may have thought myself in love before, but I now know it was but a pale reflection of the truth I see as I gaze into your burning eyes, and rejoice at the sight of your lovely form. Vanimle sila tiri. Your beauty shines bright. Bright enough to blind this poor elf." He moved a little closer, close enough that they hips touched, and raised his hand again.

I'll see about blinding you if you don't keep your grubby paws to yourself, Softpaws hissed, and it seemed Coran could pick up on the general meaning for he hastily snatched his fingers back. Kitten, you should warn him off. He is not to be trusted.

That's what Edwin said as well, Rini thought. She quickly compared the two men in her mind. And Edwin would never say things like that if he didn't mean it. "Very sugary words, Coran," she said with a small frown. "But I should probably tell you right now that I don't want empty flattery. Don't tell me things like that if you don't mean exactly what you say."

"Ah, you wound me, my lovely lady! Very well. If lessons in the language of the elves will not satisfy you, then perhaps an introduction to another part of our culture will?"

"Such as?"

Coran licked his lips seductively. "The art of lovemaking, oh lusty one. The elves are an ancient folk, and I have forgotten more about giving and receiving pleasure than any mere human could ever hope to learn. Allow me to demonstrate…"

"No!" the half-elf exclaimed. "I'm not interested. Coran, you'd better get out of here right now. This isn't funny anymore."

"Oh, come now. It has been a pleasant hunt, but now the hunt is at an end, and it is time for the prey to yield…and there is an itching in my pants that only you can satisfy." Coran leaned in closer, breathing rather heavily by now. And then he suddenly found himself flat on his back, his jaw feeling as if it had been split in two. Zaerini stood over him, rubbing her aching knuckles, her golden eyes blazing furiously beneath her mane of red hair.

"That does it," the bard growled. "I told you politely to cut it out. Now I want you to leave. Oh, and one more thing. I'm not 'prey'. So just take a hike and try your stupid lines on somebody who's impressed. You're just not what I'm looking for in a mate."

Excellent, kitten, Softpaws purred. Send him packing.

Coran slowly got to his feet, red in the face and looking extremely angry and humiliated. "You…you little fiend!" he spat. "A dalliance with me would have been an honor beyond your wildest dreams, and you reject me?" A spiteful note crept into his voice. "For make no mistake, a dalliance is all it could ever be. No true elf would ever take up permanently with a…mere half-breed."

She had half expected him to say it, but still it hurt. That word, that hated word stabbed into the very core of her soul like a poisoned blade. Rini stood motionless, drinking in the hatred in the elf's eyes, feeling her own slowly fill with tears. She hated herself for crying, but she couldn't help it, and that made her hate herself even more. It hurt all the more because of the affection he had professed to feel only moments before, hurt because she had truly wanted to trust him.

Coran sneered at her, triumphant as the sight of the pain he had caused washed away some of his own humiliation. And then he suddenly froze, his mouth still open to speak, his wide open, but immobile like a statue. "In that case," Edwin said as he stepped out behind a tree, "you aren't even worthy of licking the ground she walks on, excrement-brain." The wizard's dark face was a mask of fury, and he actually trembled with rage as he approached the magically held elf. "And I'll make personally sure you pay for making her cry…in blood." He pushed the immobile Coran until he fell over and then spat in his motionless face. "A pint per tear ought to be about right. Now don't go anywhere until I have the time to deal with you properly."

"I…" Zaerini said, and then words failed her. She closed her eyes as her legs folded beneath her, slumping to ground as she began to cry in earnest, unable to stop. And then she felt an arm around her shoulder, and a much more welcome one than Coran's at that. She sobbed quietly into the wizard's chest as he held her close, his face buried in her hair, whispering something in what she supposed must be his own language. It felt…good. Right, somehow. Like…coming home. And…I don't care about belonging to either elves or humans anymore. I've had enough of that. From now on, I'll settle for belonging with those who…who really care about me, and don't just pretend to. I've had enough of sugar and pretty falsehoods. Give me spice any day.

"Are you feeling better?" Edwin asked after a while. He sounded very worried, and apparently noticed that himself for he hastily amended himself. "That is…I would not wish to see the leader of our group incapacitated for an extended period of time. That could cause all sorts of problems. Suppose Jaheira got it into her head to lead? She'd be so obsessed about keeping 'the Balance' that we'd never get anywhere."

"I'm much better," Rini said, managing a smile. "Thank you." She gave the still immobile Coran a contemptuous glance. "I'm not about to let him or his opinions bother me any longer. He's not worth it."

"Shall I kill him for you?" Edwin asked. "It would be my pleasure." His voice was very eager and Zaerini didn't doubt that he meant exactly what he said.

The bard walked over to stare into the face of the motionless elf. Was that a glimmer of fear in his eyes? "No," she said. "No. Tempting as it is, I have a better idea."

When Coran came out of the spell he was still immobile, tied firmly to a tree in the middle of the forest. Moreover, he also found himself liberally coated with something sweet-smelling and very sticky, particularly concentrated to the groin area. The bard and the wizard were standing in front of him, both looking very pleased. It wasn't a reassuring sight. "What…" Coran croaked.

"Wakey, wakey!" Zaerini said, giving the elf a wicked grin. "You don't want to miss this."

"What…"

"Oh, you mean what is it that's smeared all over you?" Edwin said. "It's wild honey. You know, the sweet, sticky stuff that bees make. (Really, I thought elves were supposed to know about wildlife things. I suppose we'll just have to educate him.)" This last was added in an innocently helpful voice.

"Honey? But…"

"Oh yes," the bard said. "Honey. And now, please take a look at your feet." Coran did. The ground was black. Black and…moving? "Ants!" he screamed. "Oh no, please don't! Not ANTS!" The ants were already marching up his legs, millions of them swarming over his body, and particularly into his pants.

"Very good," Edwin said with a condescending sneer. "So you do know something about the local fauna after all. Ten points for making an effort."

"Why, Coran!" Zaerini said, her golden eyes glittering with amusement. "I just thought I'd oblige you and satisfy that 'itching in your pants' that you mentioned." She pursed her lips as if deep in thought. "This was what you meant, wasn't it? True, at first it may cause a worse itch, but once it starts to get really painful I'm sure you'll forget all about that."

"But…but…ANTS!"

"You'd better hope they eat quickly too," Edwin said. "After all, there are bears in the forest as well. Bears do love honey - and I'm sure they wouldn't be all that particular about what they happened to bite off in order to get to it. (Not that it would be a great loss, I'm sure.)"

"Bye now, Coran," Zaerini said, waving. "Have fun. Maybe some 'pure' elf will stop by and rescue you. You never know."

"And now," Edwin added, "a parting phrase in Elvish, just to be polite. Llie n'vanima ar' lle atara lanneina. That's about the most useful words to know in any language."

"What does it mean?" Zaerini asked, pushing her bright red hair out of her eyes.

The wizard shrugged. "It means 'you're ugly and your momma dresses you funny'. A pretty good summary of that useless waste of space over there, I would say." He bowed briefly to the bard. "Shall we?"

Coran stared after them as they disappeared into the forest, their laughter intermingling until it sounded almost like a single voice. They never looked back. Not once.