A Matter of Honor

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Rayvinn
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A Matter of Honor

Post by Rayvinn »

A lithe form didn't go bump in the night even when he was slipping past shady figures in alleyways. A bizarre land this was, a stranger city where the darker it got, the brighter the lights, the less at home he felt. He hadn't made up hsi mind whether or not he liked it but one thing was for certain, it had excellent ale. Stepping up to the door that led in his hand gripped the gnob and pulled it open while he stood waiting at the top with a gesturing hand. "Ladies first."


"Ladies first, eh? So when did you stop being a barbarian and learn some proper manners, General?" Rayvinn poked and prodded that particular bear more than could ever be considered safe. Did she appear afraid, however? Not in the slightest. Despite how much she insulted T'alathian, she had great respect for the elf and knew he was far more honorable than he liked anyone to know or even believed himself to be, perhaps. Regardless, she had her hands full with trying to make the elf behave as a
gentleman, so when he did, she couldn't help but reward the good behavior. Much like she would a puppy...she patted the top of his head, ruffling those dozens of braids. Did she know it would drive him mildly crazy? But of course, hence that wicked little grin.


Tantalizing words were choked back with a clearly facetious smile and tilt of his head when she'd disturbed the braids where they lay. "Your words have impacted me so dearly", his right hand crossed where his heart was on the left of his chest as he let the door slowly shut behind him as he followed her down. "I realized the error of my brutish ways and have decided that I shall flip a new leaf. Yes, I am an elf reborn- no longer shall I prey upon those weaker than I for self-righteous gain. No, I will be the beacon to the weaker folks and I will cast light upon the shadow slums that they have been entombed to!" Oh he was asking for it tonight.


He was asking for it and he would receive precisely what he deserved. Whack! Gibbs smacked. "I honestly have no idea why I take you anywhere, you crass barbaric smartass." He wasn't crass at the moment, and not barbaric, but really just give him a few moments to get warmed up.


Not to say the elf was confused or caught off-guard by it but it did escalate rather quickly. He rubbed the spot of the injury and shook his head. "See, this is why the men are terrified of you." Not that it had be plainly stated or even exaggerated to that level, but wasn't that something of a compliment? Yes, he might think so.


"Are they terrified of me? Are they really?" Excuse her while she appeared...impressed. Yes, she was impressed with herself. Though, she really didn't think the recent company (besides this barbaric general of her army) she had been keeping was terrified of her. She'd clearly need to find these things out. If her army was terrified wouldn't the gentler, more gentlemanly elven type be? "I am not quite so scary so long as one is respectful. You clearly are not. If they are afraid then they apparently need to learn some respect and not to anger me with shirking of their duties. I also do not pay them to be drunken defilers of women. The next time I find out one of them has done something so atrocious, a far more terrifying example will be made besides striping his back." She was trying to think of any other reason they were terrified of her and those were the only examples that came to mind.


"Well of course!" His grin said it all, the beaming confidence in which he spun his spindle of carcinogen-dialect that clearly meant he was up to no good, or perhaps telling only half of the truth. "Any who beats their employees are naturally feared and thought to be the most terrifying of people! There are certain exceptions but seeing as how you have soldiers and do not own a brothel!" Always a crass clown it seemed, he held his hands up in his defense, palms facing her. "Oh it is not without good reason though! They do need the disciplined touch. Me however? I am a changed elf, your violent tactics will prove obsolete as opposed to a concerned speech, or a well-kept chatter over some type of tea, or ale." Such a diplomat, he nodded his head with a smile while he pulled out a chair for her. "See? All things can be settled over words."


And now he was holding out chairs for her and actually asking for discussions over ale or tea. Over tea? She ignored the chair, expecting that it might very well explode (because he had obviously booby-trapped it), and pulled out one for herself and lowered her form onto it. Almond shaped jades were narrowed as she watched him, barely glossed lips pursed as she attempted to figure out what he was up to. Because she knew, without fail, he was up to something. Was her life now simply time spent with elves that were so drastically different from one another, trying to figure out their motives? Of course, the elfess was more than a bit paranoid as noted by the not accepting of a simple chair. She'd been trying to pound manners into this elf for months and when he begins to show progress, she assumes he is up to something. Yes, paranoia definitely. "All things can be settled over words, is it?" She nodded slightly, once. "What is it that you have done that you want me to settle with only words?"


A grin slowly crept over his face as he spun the chair within his hands slightly off from parallel to the table as he took a seat in it, note the lack of Michael Bay explosions while doing so and carefully but fluidly kicked his feet up to the opposite corner of her, keeping his shoes far away. "Well, perhaps I have accidentally", the words was accompanied by him air-quoting, "lost sight of that young orphan boy who watches the stables." Was he joking? He looked sincere. "We can get into detailed accounts, but what would you like to drink?" Suave, what a great misdirect by the elf. He placed one mug closer to her and then one to himself while steadily leaning back in his chair, forever posturing it so the front two legs were hovering in a state never too close or far from the ground. The back two, dangerously unstable under his weight. He was not heavy for an elf, but he was tall with muscle.


"You...did what?" Those narrowed hues widened rapidly and she blinked owlishly. "I swear upon the gods I curse far more than is healthy for an elf...I will...I will...." oh he provided her with the weapon, how helpful! She lifted the mug he slid towards her and splashed the contents right towards him. Not normally quite this prone to such displays of temper, T'alathian provoked and prodded her so many times a day that it was a wonder the elfess had a hair left on her head, or that no one had yet died.

This had to be a new record even for him; one suit of leather armor, one man, two drinks in two nights. He was now effectively drenched in his seat. "I had not yet gotten to the point where I mention that I did so much as find him down the road with the horses grazing and him needing aid carrying the water." Oh how he looked salty, tightening his grip around the braids to ooze the drink out. "Now if you would politely sit down, we'll fill that mug and hopefully its contents will refrain from assaulting me." A tinsy hint of sass, but he was a changed elf!

In her defense, the first assault, was very little ale and it wasn't her fault! Kruger had caused her to spit her ale all over T's feet! "It was purely an accident, of course." Also, if it had been poisoned? She didn't have to worry now. Amazing that she could trust her army to the care of this elf but wouldn't trust her own safety, even though he was supposed to be a bodyguard or so he thought. She would never agree to having a real guard, despite flowery oaths of fealty. "No, I am certain I do not require more to drink. You can never be certain what sort of accident might occur that might cause it to end up all over your lovely armor." She looked so completely innocent.
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Rayvinn
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Joined: Sun Mar 13, 2011 11:10 pm
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Post by Rayvinn »

"Oh my apologies, sincerely. I was not aware your hemorrhoids were flaring on this eve! I would have never casted the blame otherwise!" He was out of place, she had been struggling with some bodily functions and he blamed her for it. He continued to squeeze the locks of brown chestnut, still seeping a little of the liquid before he reached for his own for a drink. Was that a wide grin he wore? No, never T.


"Oh, well my apologies for not informing you. I assumed you knew since you are pretty consistently up my ass." She did not mean that literally. At all. No. He was given one of her best fake smiles as she lifted his tankard of ale, stood, and quite slowly and deliberately upended it over his head. "Oops. It appears that your pretty little girl hair is all sodden. What an absolute tragedy. Especially since your monthly bath was completed yesterday and now you will have to smell like ale. Wait, that's right. You already smell like a drunk most of the time. What was I thinking? Forgive me for misspeaking."


Even an elf of virtuosity and patience had his limits. His hands slowly rose above his head and his feet touched the floorboards once they slipped from the corner of the table. "I'll have you know I bathe regularly and with care." That was so manly of him to point out, bet he conditioned too. "I have not cut these braids since the last time I lost in a fight, mind you. No woman can boast that merit, or would you?" Oh did he go there? He wasn't standing but he was giving her a look. "You should sit back down, that ruffian image simply does not suit you."


She smiled the most infuriating smile right then. She had succeeded in proving that he was, in fact, not a changed elf. "I wonder then, why you did not have me cut those braids when I kicked your ass." Then, of course, the elfess had to brush a hand through her very luxurious waves that reached the base of her hips, just as she looked down at him with a simple little smile. "I believe I will not sit down. I have far better things to do with my time than to spend it with my employees...as you pointed out earlier that you and the men are. You have a wonderful night, General." He was correct, the ruffian image didn't suit her at the moment. She was all queen and stately grace at the moment, her back ramrod straight as she turned upon a heel and strode towards the door. The last time she'd slipped from his "protective" presence, he'd not seen her for two days. Oops.

A sigh escaped his lips as he quickly rose from his seat and treaded precisely after her. She was quite graceful in her abandonment and verbal chastising however he was able to keep pace and without force his right hand went to get a hold of her wrist. "I am 'trying'." He put emphasis on the word however the time for talk might soon be erupting past pleasantries. He hadn't really taken notice of his actions, being a brute and a barbarian alike. "I would have cut them had you given the order to, or should you still." Words may not prove a saving grace now as he looked down and quickly let go, before he might find fine elvish steel piercing his leather and heart. Oops.


It was likely the wisest move the elf had ever made and the solemn expression upon her face, nearly flat aside from the flashing of those now eerily green eyes. "Your braids are your own. I employ you, I do not own you, despite your swearing of fealty to me as your queen. I was simply pointing out, as you turned this into a pissing contest, that you have been defeated. By me. I deserve the respect of that as I have earned it, much more so than I deserve respect as your queen."

Rayvinn was a hothead, but once cooled down, she could be reasonable. Apparently now would be one of those times. "You also deserve my respect and pouring ale upon my more than capable general does not show proper respect. However, do not take this apology for a sign of weakness. If you trifle with me, I will make you pay for it. It just will not be with the wasting of good ale." Her voice was soft, no need to yell, and she continued to stare at him, no emotion in her gaze now as she had gotten full control of herself once
more.


As he stood his full height, something impressive considering how balanced his physique had been he dared not speak over her. A pair of ears soon became visible as he took hold of the braids in his left hand and lifted them overhead. A framed face was far more visible now, with the rarer sight of the paired angular ears before her. He awaited her words with a stoic demeanor and upon her delivery he kneeled down before drawing from her person one of her (most likely) several curved blades. It was one swift motion, an arc where he held the blade firm, a man who did not prefer such methods, and cleaved the braids straight off sending them into disarray from the base. A cascading shimmer of light the blade flickered back into her sheath with ease. Simply though he did not prefer them did not make him any less skilled. He rose to his full height once more and bowed before leading up the steps and opening the door. "No veren." The elvish flowed easily like a babbling creek from the snow capped mountains as he held the door and made out for his departure into the night.

It was as if the crowd has disappeared and his movements were in slow motion as he knelt, much as he had so many months prior professing his loyalty and protection while laying the red spear before her. She watched as he grasped the braids and knew what he would do before he removed her dagger from her left hip. Her eyes closed momentarily, feeling the weight of his decision, but reopened because she would not disrespect him this time by averting her gaze. She knew what this meant to a man so proud and she swallowed heavily as she watched the handful of braids as they were cut from his head and dropped upon the floor. She moved not a muscle as the dagger was resheathed and he stood and bowed. Eyes closed once more as she deeply inclined her head towards him but she did not watch as he walked away, allowing the man the remnants of his pride as he retreated. She heard the softly called "Farewell" and simply nodded once, still not turning to see him go. A moment passed and she stopped to lift one of the braids, folding it within elegantly long, callused fingers. Then she made her exit, though certainly not going back to her army's camp where she would be faced with what her victory had won her.
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