Heart and Sword

Here's the newest piece of Lilithia's story, Heart and Sword. I'll put a short description, it's neccessary because this portion is actually cut into two smaller pieces. I might start adding a little tidbit of Lilithia's own thoughts, in the style of R. A. Salvatore's books, but so far I think just getting these post rounded off evenly and posted is quite enough. (Though don't doubt that I might as well try!)

Short description:

Lilithia is given a test by the elves of Riverdale, unknowing of what is truly underfoot. Solanil has plans to get Lilithia in some deep trouble, perhaps earning an exile from the valley. Malifain woories for her, despite her growing confidence that she can overcome the boundaries of color and intent. But Solanil will not let it go that easily.

In Her Eyes...

Like Entreri and the fights he waged against my father, Solanil shall surely attempt a second run of making my life miserable. Making it so, as he believes, because I have earned it in some way. I am no more a murderer, I have come to see where I stumbled. My father's paths and my own, so very much alike and so very different. Where he was able to escape, I saw myself drawing into that web of lies. I could not help it, I was a high priestess, earning a reputation beyond that of my own mother. A reputation splashed by the blood of a hundred innocents.

My father says that, perhaps, I am like his sister, before she was forced under the water of those lies for too long and her inner innocence was destroyed, was stripped away. Yet Solanil, he condemns me. I am never to be better, never to change. Why can I be charged for the way I was trained, told to act as a child, but when I take things into my own hands and try to correct where I veered off the path... If I had been who I was then I would have just slaughtered him for his closed heart. Blast and let him live in the Nine screaming Hells for all eternity.

But I cannot. This is my second childhood, learning what I should know and forgetting that which I must. Solanil may have tried to kill me but he is not my concern. The elves of Riverdale see what I have become and smile, how rare and lucky I may have been to earn this. But my father forged the path for me long ago, I must walk it in turn and trim the branches that have overgrown.

I must see and hear and think for myself out of the delusions of the wicked Spider Queen, and I must learn to forgive if others cannot. But never forget. Solanil could have learned a lot had he listened to my father as I have. I saw with my own eyes that day that he would never change.

(Picture by Anna Rigby, editing done by me. Lilithia is mine.)

Heart and Sword

Drizzt watched s Malifain paced across the decorative rug in front of the cabin’s door, his arms crossed over his chest and his face a slight bit concerned. The young elf seemed to worry more when Lilithia was absent from his careful watch, but he never voiced that concern to anyone. The door cracked open as a person entered, but it was not Lilithia, as Malifain soon realized. He fell back into his quiet brooding and pacing as Solanil closed the door behind himself.
“She has done well.” Solanil stated, a wry smile brushing over his lips. The half elf man looked to Drizzt, with the same respect he laid upon Malifain, and nodded. “Lilithia may never be innocent in my eyes but in the eyes of Mielikki she is accepted.”
Drizzt nodded and stood, bowing to Solanil. He had taught her himself how to work with animals, and as a test of her patience, they had given her a lively filly to tame and ride today. Drizzt had known that his daughter could tame the horse easily, it was the unknown trial that he knew he could not have prepared her for. Malifain was surprised, but even more shocked that Lilithia hadn’t returned yet. In the previous tendays, he had become close to her, as it was his duty to watch over her and teach her.
“And where is she, Solanil?” He asked, stopping in front of his brother to look him in the eyes. Solanil shook his head and smiled, laying a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder.
“Rest easy, I know you’re fond of the girl, I haven’t given her too much trouble.” Solanil promised, somewhat envious of his younger brother. Malifain was always the ‘younger’ one, but nobody but Solanil and Malifain understood that he was many years older. Solanil had drawn Lilithia aside to explain this, that Malifain was nearly ninety years old. Elves did not age, though, and Solanil was half human. He had lived to be forty, but the age had taken its toll and he looked the proper age. The room was silent for a long while as Malifain and Solanil conversed within their facial expressions, neither truly needing words. Finally, Malifain broke the silence.
“She was injured.” He stated, not pointing out that he believed Solanil responsible in some part for that. Solanil nodded, though he didn’t have to, and Malifain’s powerful scowl put him in his place before he could explain.
“What happened?” Malifain demanded before his brother could make an excuse. Malifain and Solanil got along well, but they were not exactly brothers. Malifain never hated his brother, but he often wondered why, after the wrongful murder of his elvish father, that his mother had taken on a human man as her lover. He expressed that in his venomous glare when Solanil took his time answering.
“One of her spells rebounded off of a mirror and hit her…” He said, seeming not to care. Malifain grew impatient with Solanil’s games.
“Where is she? I want to see her to see how bad it is.” He insisted, turning to the door and opening it. Solanil shook his head, noticing his brother’s odd behavior. It wasn’t like Malifain to take particular interest in only one person, and especially not a girl. And definitely not a drow maiden.
“She refused our help.” He insisted, but Malifain was the door and down the path before even Drizzt could react. Drizzt let Solanil leave of his own accord, listening to the soft mutterings he heard with his eyes half closed.
Malifain found Lilithia is a small meadow, her tunic off as she sat in the shade of an oak, at the edge of a shallow pond. She cringed as she washed at a magical gash in her shoulder, likely from a bolt she herself had created, as Solanil had said. He made a great attempt at being silent, but he realized that his best chance to not surprise her was to be noticed. He could hear her gasp as her finger touched the wound. The rocks under his boots made little sound, just enough to make her turn to him from over her shoulder.
“Malifain, I…” She stammered, but before she could insist he leave he was right beside her, using a clean rag to wipe away the blood trickling down her bare front. They were unaware that they had two people watching them.
“I know. You are hurt, and badly it seems.” He said, his musical voice calming her just enough. She could smell Drizzt nearby, but she thought it only to be the tunic she had borrowed. Little did she know he was behind her in the bush, watching over her as Malifain had lead him to her. He intended to make sure Solanil did not interfere with the two. Solanil did not know about the drow hiding twenty feet to his left in the same trees, each of them fifteen feet from the couple.
Malifain could sense his brother’s magic, but it was weak, as though he was a few miles away. He shrugged off the thought as he looked to Lilithia’s wound with the utmost care. As she winced, a crystal tear streaked down over her cheek. Malifain noticed and stopped, leaning close to her to wipe it away on his thumb.
“I am sorry. Maybe I could find something to dull the pain…” He said, but before he could react, she had leaned forward and collapsed into his arms, sobbing softly.
“It’s not the pain, I failed. After the spell backfired the filly kicked me and bolted. Solanil was very angry.” She said between deep breaths. “I ran away in shame.”
Malifain shook his head, holding her close. Shame? She didn’t realize that the real test had been in just convincing Solanil that she had the knowledge and confidence to try, to go out and get the horse, to ask for the pasture, to walk among the elves as if she were one. He wasn’t smiling though, as he ignored the blood on his shoulder from her wound.
“No, Lilith. That was worthless. The only thing that matter was that you have proved your willingness to be as one of us. And some of your patience with animals.” Malifain said, having to twist his head to the side to speak to her, his breath drifting across her ear. Lilithia turned her head up just then as she was digesting his words, their eyes meeting. Before either could say a word, they closed their mouths, staying silently entwined as the birds in the forest around them continued to twitter and chirp for the next few moments. Drizzt slipped silently away to give them privacy, but Solanil became angry, barely holding back. He watched as Malifain, with Lilithia supported in his lithe arms, leaned further down towards her lavender gaze, his lips pressing to hers in a chaste kiss before pulling back, angry that the wench had been apt at seducing his brother. Lilithia leaned up into the kiss, her lips parting slightly as Malifain moved away.
The moment’s silence was shattered as Solanil stormed out of the trees, his bow knocked once, then again as Lilithia tried to draw her scimitars. The arrows barely nicked Malifain as he tried to protect her by intercepting them, watching in horror as one lodged deep into her belly and the other snagged between her ribs. He looked to Solanil in a shocked rage, as Drizzt, called by the sound of flying arrows, burst out of the trees opposite Solanil. He rushed to Lilithia, sheathing his scimitars and taking her as she fainted. Malifain stood and pulled out his two elvish swords, charging Solanil in an unbridled rage.
“You seek to kill the girl!” He growled, wincing as Solanil used the bow to knock the blades away. Drizzt left the two to their fight as he broke the arrow shafts off and carried Lilithia away, swiftly making his way to the village healer. Only her low groans kept him going, knowing that she would fight for life yet. The arrow in her belly had been in a vital area and Drizzt knew to dally with such a wound would be fatal. Soon, the echoes of metal on metal reached his ears as he arrived at the healer’s cottage.
Solanil’s blades slammed into Malifain’s as he parried, making the elf’s arms tingle. The fight raged, Solanil driven back on his heels by the furious slashes and lunges that Malifain was using, was not as quickly tiring as his brother. Malifain slowed suddenly and Solanil noticed the shock, but not before her felt the searing pain tat could only mean one thing.
Malifain’s blade left a deep gash between Solanil’s ribs, not a fatal wound but something that easily could have killed without proper treatment. Solanil turned, noticing that his forgiving elf brother hadn’t struck to kill, and ran head long into the forest. Malifain turned without even wiping his blade, his face grim as he started off to find where Drizzt Lilithia. He would never forgive his brother if the girl died, and if she had, he would hunt him down to bring justice to him.
His worries were sent away as he found Lilithia in the healer’s bed, sleeping soundly. They had given her a powerful sleep potion, she would be out for a few days they had said. He didn’t care as he sat beside her, her every noise, every sleep movement noted as he waited for her to awaken. He slept on the floor beside her cot that first night, he took his meals in the chair across the room. He rarely left the room except to change his clothing, to bathe, and to clean his bloody sword. He was glad that Celaine, the beautiful healer elf who had visited to care for Lilithia, had changed her out of her gear, the silk gown beautiful on the sleeping drow. The creamy white silk fell over her every curve perfectly, making her look almost angelic, something Malifain noticed was common for Lilithia.
Celaine paused one night as she set Malifain’s meal before him, sitting beside him at the demure wooden table.
“You care for her greatly.” She said, folding her arms on the table. She had fancied Malifain for many years, but always he had been too busy as a ranger to notice her. She was envious that a near-dead girl, and a drow at that! Could have swept him off his feet with such a lasting impact.
“Yes I do,” He said, eating slowly, “She deserves every chance to know forgiveness. And not hatred.” He explained, though he knew it was only partly true. Celaine frowned, her beautiful face turned down as the sharp answer.
“You lo…” She was about to say, but Malifain’s pleading glance silenced her. Celaine never questioned him again after that, for his look was so foul it might curl flowers at twenty yards. Even for an elf, Malifain disliked intrusions on his private thoughts.