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Date Posted: 01:07:05 12/06/01 Thu
Author: Laurel and Tristan
Subject: A little R&R all around
In reply to: Valhorek 's message, "No rest for the weary" on 19:59:23 12/03/01 Mon

Laurel laughed when Ravin explained how he’d tried to teach his own sisters how to use the bow. How odd! For where she came from, the bow was generally considered a lady’s weapon, at least among aristocrats. And even in the army, those archers who joined up from the peasant class were usually women. Not that anyone thought ill of a man who took up the bow, especially the longbow, which few women could reach, but it was simply tradition that way.

The notion that men and women had separate tasks did not astonish her, as she knew that throughout the human realms, such gender distinctions were not uncommon. Elves loved to distinguish between the sexes, even giving brothers and sisters different last names, but anyone who suggested that both had specific duties to accomplish around the household would have been severely ridiculed at the least.

Ah, no, she thought sadly. I suppose our method is better: you simply must do what your mother and grandmother did before you!

She supposed she was fortunate in that she did love her mother’s business. But some people, such as the children of a courtesan, for example, might not wish to carry on their parent’s line of work. Yet it was simply unthinkable to break with tradition, too. Her own brother confessed that he had no wish to be Consul upon their father’s death. Sadly, neither of them could have ever guessed how soon that day would come.

“Oh,” she blinked, snapping out of her reverie. “Yes…that’s perfect! Excellent job, Ravin!” She finally grinned down at him as he proudly showed off the scrawling little “R” he’d traced in the sand with his dagger. “Here is the rest,” she said, kneeling down beside him and guiding his hand to help him scratch out the remainder of his name. Once again, they sounded it out together, and she thought he was getting the hang of it even better than before. Quickly, she brushed away the letters in the sand and traced out the whole alphabet, pronouncing the sound of each new letter.

Once he could mimic her---he really was quite quick!---she drew more names in the sand for him, starting with the simpler ones like “Rowan” and “Isobel.” Those who had R’s nestled within their names, like “Tristan,” “Marz,” and “Erlic” were a little more complicated, but she tried her best to explain why two letters sometimes blurred together like that. Lastly, she taught him his own last name, showing him how sometimes two vowels could create a whole new sound, like the ue in “Rue.”

During the lesson, she must have looked up to steal a glance at Erlic at least four times, but she didn’t even realize what she was doing. It bothered her that he hadn’t yet attempted to talk to her since last night. Actually, it even stung a little bit. Laurel was used to telling men to leave her alone, only to have them reappear as eager as ever the next day. She didn’t understand why Erlic should decide that she was no longer worth the effort. Now, he seemed to be spending the majority of the morning with Isobel, though she told herself she didn’t mind. And she didn’t, not really, only it would have been nice if he had come up to her just once and asked how it was she wished him to speak.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, for she’d been gazing away once again. She looked back at Ravin and smiled with approval. “Well, how do like reading so far? Is it coming to you yet, my clever Mr. Rue?”




Tristan was glad to see Urchin make a sudden appearance, if only because Marz was starting to look a bit cross. He gathered that maybe his attempts at faking smiles wasn’t being bought, but oh well. He was trying to act as though he were in a constant state of bliss, although he felt the action was somewhat hypocritical. He’d love to point out that Marz didn’t exactly walk around with a grin on his face all the time these days, especially when it was just the two of them. Tristan thought maybe that was significant, but decided it couldn’t be. He couldn’t possibly be the reason Marz wasn’t as happy as he used to be!

Watching the ferret race off to hunt for food made his stomach rumble slightly, but he hoped Marz didn’t hear. It’d probably piss him off to learn that the mere sight of his little pet scampering across the desert made his lover get the munchies.

He wasn’t able to hide the pain he was in, though, as they got up and made their way slowly to where the others were sitting. Marz, of course, despite his twisted ankle and several bandages swathing his many wounds, gave the appearance of being 100% healthy. Tristan regretted the groans and winces that eked their way out of him, though he tried to be subtle about it. He was relieved when they could finally sit down again, and even gladder that they would get to rest for a bit before moving.

An hour or so more and I’ll be able to fly again, he promised himself, trying not to think of his great wing muscles pulling mercilessly against the injury, ripping each and every careful stitch out. Maybe this healing salve Valhorek had smeared on would do its job, and he’d be okay in no time at all.

He forgot about the slight pain for a while as he listened to Marz and Justin making bets over Isobel, forgetting himself enough to even smile at the smelly mercenary. With all these beautiful young men surrounding her, Justin would likely be the last person she chose to share her bed with! He resisted the strange impulse to once again grab a hold of Marz when Isobel finally made her way to where they were sitting. Marz would only pull away again, and Tristan would get mad at the both of them, just like before. Best to keep your hands to yourself since that’s the way he thinks you like it, he chastised himself, meekly folding his hands in his lap and staring at his fingers. He noticed a bit of blood from the vultures on his thumb. He must have wiped his mouth once he’d changed back into human form. Without thinking, he licked the bit of redness off, since he sometimes forgot that dragons and humans didn’t always share the same manners and eating habits.

But when Isobel made a comment about the odor reeking from Justin (which was positively toxic to dragon senses, by the way), Tristan actually laughed, nodding in agreement with her suggestion. As he paused to take a sip of the java he’d been handed, he stopped and glanced up at Jeremy, narrowing his eyes slightly. For a brief moment, he happened upon the notion that the little devil might have slipped something in his drink, but he shook his head, deciding that he was giving him too much credit. The look of longing on Jeremy’s face as he gazed rapturously at Marz even made him smile again.

“Merry dreams,” he said softly to Jeremy, tipping the mug toward the kid before taking a sip. Tristan was just glad it wasn’t somebody like Isobel or Sarra who had a crush on Marz---or even worse, Tia! Tia was awfully pretty, although he wasn’t used to thinking of girls as being very pretty, at least not like that. For some reason, she made him understand why women were beautiful, and for that reason knew she had to be kept away from Marz at all cost. He was most happy to see Corum move in to push Barry away and take up his old position, pushing his head against her chest. Let her take a liking to Corum just to be on the safe side.

“So far, nice effort, but I’m still a bit bored,” he teased, leaning over slightly to whisper in Marz’s ear. They could wait around for Justin to make his move and watch Isobel swing into action, but the merc wasn’t doing anything at present.

“Got any other games we haven’t played yet?” he asked Jeremy, a hint of a smile coming to his face as he took another sip of java. He glanced at Marz and added, a bit playfully. “Or maybe I could teach the rest of them how to play truth or dare.”

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