The Easterling

Chapter One: Chains of Duty-2

“I suppose she must,” Dare agreed, hiding his smirk. Dare did not get a chance to know Melia before she left their company all those months ago. Still, she seemed to him a strong woman with deep thoughts she kept to herself. Whether he knew her or not mattered little; she would always have an ally in her king for helping Arianne to save their child.

“She must have travelled a long way to be here,” Dare added. “We know almost nothing about the eastern lands from which she originates, beyond the fact that its people were allied to Balfure and our peace with them is a fragile one.”

“They considered him their god and we struck him down,” Aeron reminded. “Right or wrong, it's a poor foundation to begin any sort of alliance.”

“Agreed,” Dare sighed with resignation. He wanted time to rebuild Carleon, to restore the wounded spirit of his people before he inflicted another war on them. Though he had been reluctant to extend the friendship across the Burning Plains to the very people who warred against them, Dare knew Carleon could ill afford another conflict after three decades of Occupation. They needed recovery more than vengeance. He only hoped diplomacy would be enough to heal the rift between the east and west, because the alternative was war.

* * *

Melia stared at herself in the mirror of the room she was provided in the Keep and tried to remember how long it had been since she was last required to dress for a dinner. With sadness, she realised it was well before her father's death. Those days seemed so far away now and there were times Melia wondered if that other life was just a dream and this had always been her reality.

Staring at her reflection in the mirror and not seeing the watch guard but the woman in the one dress she owned, Melia could not help think it was a stranger gazing back at her.

The dress was simple, a blue shift clinging tightly at the bodice with flowing sleeves cut in elvish fashion. She had bought the gown from a peddler in Cereine, who made his mark selling dresses sewn in the fashion of highborn ladies. It was such a frivolous purchase, but the colour of the fabric made the decision for her, impractical as it was. It remained in her saddlebag, forgotten until the invitation from the queen gave her an occasion to wear it.

The summons to Carleon itself had rather astonished her. While she and Arianne had shared an extraordinary adventure together during the quest to save the royal heir, still it was a watch guard's duty to aid her queen. While friendship had come, Melia never expected the relationship to survive beyond the completion of the quest.

In all honesty, when Melia left Arianne and Celene at the Frozen Mountains, she never expected to hear from either again. But when the Captain of the Watch in Baffin sought her out to present her with the invitation to visit Sandrine Keep, Melia realised she was mistaken. It was not an invitation she could refuse so she set out, convinced when she reached the palace she would be told it was all a terrible mistake.

Of course nothing of the sort happened. When Melia arrived and was presented to the queen, she was greeted with open arms. Arianne embraced her like a friend and proved her regard was no aberration.

After donning the gown, Melia pinned back her dark hair and hoped she was suitable for the company she would be keeping tonight. Her reflection still jarred her each time she glanced at the mirror, startled by the person she saw there. The woman in the mirror did not look like a watch guard. After one wore breeches and spent most of the time riding through the wilderness, where neither identity nor gender mattered, it was easy to forget she was once a child of nobility.

The reflection in the mirror reminded her she was once Melia, daughter of Hezare, a general of Nadira.

It was almost to her relief when she heard the door behind her. The sound of knuckles rapping against the thick wooden door snatched her away from her anxious thoughts and sent her hurrying to answer it. With no idea of any customs or protocols to be followed in the royal court, Melia did not wish to be perceived as discourteous by leaving her visitor to languish outside her door.

“Melia!” Celene burst into the room as soon as Melia opened the door wide enough. She greeted the startled watch guard with another enthusiastic hug of friendship and joy.

“Celene,” Melia stuttered a response, still rather overwhelmed by the reception she was receiving from the lady of Gislaine and the queen, respectively.

“My goodness,” Celene exclaimed, sweeping her gaze over Melia in the blue dress. “Now I can see why so many were shocked when I discarded my breeches for a dress. You look beautiful.”

“I feel as if I should be better armed,” Melia retorted, remembering that Celene's dry wit would appreciate the comment.

Celene laughed and took her hand, leading her to the wing chairs in the room so they could talk. Like Arianne, Celene did not forget how Melia risked her life to aid them in the quest to Sanhael. Though she claimed she was duty-bound to aid the queen, Celene and Arianne knew better. Besides, it was rare for Celene to find other women who shared her common interests, who did not think battle and swordplay were wholly inappropriate subjects of conversation.

“How have you been?” Celene inquired earnestly when they were nestled comfortably in the chairs.

“I have been well, though life does not vary much for a watch guard. We ride, we watch and we report what is important to those in authority,” Melia explained.

“And how goes your search for your mother?” Celene inquired, remembering Melia had set aside her own quest in order to help them.

Melia let out a disappointed sigh. “I am afraid I have found little evidence of her. Wherever she and her people disappeared, they hid well, for I have spoken to no one who has even heard of her.”

“You will find her,” Celene patted her on the arm in support, showing more confidence than Melia herself felt at this moment.

“I hope so,” Melia smiled, grateful for the gesture. “Now, how about yourself? How have you and your husband been?”

“Ronen and I fare well. We have spent much of the past months in Gislaine trying to rebuild the outer settlements there, but I fear that our resources only stretch so far. Many fled to the coast during the Occupation, and until we prove that the south is free of Balfure's forces we will not bring them back. I know the king would like the Southern Provinces peopled, but it is going to take a long time for that to happen.”

“I understand that land east of Gislaine is quite beautiful and the woods of Eden Ardhen are quite magnificent,” Melia remarked, knowing something about the local geography.

“It is,” Celene confirmed. “Unfortunately many of Balfure's forces have taken refuge there. Tor Ardhen still stands, even though the Disciples are gone. It's a pity, because it was the centre of elvendom until Lylea was driven out.”

“I suppose they are retreating behind the Veil again now that Balfure is gone. It is a pity they chose not to reclaim Eden Ardhen. That might solve your problem.”

“It might,” Celene nodded in agreement and then added rather coyly, “Speaking of elves, Aeron is here.”

Melia received the news with an expression of stone.

“Is he?” She feigned nonchalance, unaware this was not entirely unique behaviour in the keep today.

“Yes,” Celene remarked, betraying none of the amusement she was presently experiencing at Melia's supposed indifference to the news. “Though I fear not for long. I am told he has been summoned home to Eden Halas by his father King Halion.”

“Well that is hardly surprising,” Melia snorted. “If he were my son I would try to keep a tight rein on him as well.”

Celene chuckled, “I see you remember him well then.”

“And trying to forget him just as well,” Melia replied sarcastically, recalling how she had almost taken her knife to him when they travelled together. He took the idea of chivalry beyond the boundaries of its intended use. She could not understand how she could have fought Syphia at his side only to have him treat her like some fragile damsel who needed protection at the very next opportunity.

“Are we speaking of the same polite elf?” Celene teased.

“Are we speaking of a polite elf?” Melia c****d a brow at her.

Celene laughed and Melia joined her before the conversation regarding the prince of Eden Halas deteriorated even further.

“It is time we join the others for dinner,” Celene prompted their departure. “Arianne thought you might prefer a friendly face to accompany you to the hall instead of a serving girl. We will talk more tonight.”

“I am grateful for your company,” Melia said, because Arianne was correct about that assertion. She made a mental note to thank the queen for the consideration when they had a moment alone. Hopefully the rest of the night would transpire as smoothly.

* * *

“Did you miss me?”

A familiar voice spoke so closely to Melia's ear she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. They were walking down the corridor leading to the great hall when they were intercepted from behind by someone who knew how to approach without giving himself away.

Melia sucked in her breath, perfectly aware who was asking the question and replied sweetly without turning around. “Like the pox.”

“Are you saying you're afflicted with me?” Aeron quipped as he rounded the two women and stood next to Melia, smirking.

Celene rolled her eyes, realising Kyou did not exaggerate.

“Prince Aeron, I take it you remember Melia?”

“Vaguely,” Aeron shrugged, a little smile crossing lips as his eyes continued to stare at Melia. “Though I am certain I travelled with a scruffy watch guard, not this, this woman,” his gaze raked over her in approval.

“I remember you,” Melia retorted, feeling uncomfortable enough in these clothes without this elven aristocrat making her feel even more self-conscious about it. “You were that annoying little puppy tugging at my heels. I thought I succeeded in losing you in the woods so you would not find your way home.”

Celene laughed softly, shaking her head as she drew away from them both to avoid being caught in their sparring. “I leave you to your verbal jousting. If you can rest your bladed tongues long enough, do join us in the hall. I believe the queen is waiting.”

Neither spoke until Celene was gone, and despite his efforts to keep from falling into old patterns around her, Aeron's resolve crumbled the instant he saw her again. Seeing her in the dress simply took his breath away.

At Sanhael, he was impressed by her courage and her skill. Later on, as they travelled together, he enjoyed immensely their witty banter; but now as he saw her again, he realised there was a beautiful woman beneath all that leather and dust.

“Would you let me escort you?” He offered her his arm.

“Now you behave like a prince?” She stared at him, wondering what was to be done with this impossible elf.

“A moment ago I was pox,” he pointed out. “It requires time to rise above that distinction.”

“You are quite impossible,” she stated before breaking into a smile. Taking his arm, they resumed walking towards the hall and Melia couldn't deny he was good company when he wasn't being quite so infuriating.

“I can assure you, I am not the only one,” he countered before his tone turned a little more serious. “So how have you been?”

“I've been well,” Melia replied, always finding his ability to switch from teasing to sincere difficult to keep up with. “I hear you are bound for home.”

His shoulders stiffened only slightly but enough for Melia to immediately guess he was not happy about it. She wondered why a prince would dislike returning to his realm but decided against questioning him about it.

“Yes, my father requires me home and I've been away for far too long. It is time.”

“Does that not make you happy?” She found herself asking, even if a moment ago she was trying not to. Subtlety was something neither seemed to have cultivated with each other. In moments like this, it had its advantages because it disturbed Melia how clearly unhappy he was. Despite herself and for reasons she did not want to delve deeply into at this time, she hated to see him this way.

“Not as much as I should be.”

An awkward silence followed and Melia debated if she should prompt him into speaking further. Their relationship was far simpler to deal with when they were trading barbs and insults. Seeing him in the midst of an obvious personal crisis made her forget all that and surfaced the feelings about him she knew better than to indulge.

“Perhaps you should go home only to visit,” Melia suggested although she suspected this was not an option.

“That will not satisfy my father. I do not wish to disappear behind the Veil like the rest of my people and forget everyone I care for. I enjoy being in the world too much.”

“Good,” she was genuinely pleased to hear he was not conflicted on this point. Even with a short time in their company, Melia saw the bond of friendship shared by those in the king's Circle. In her youth, she would have given anything to have that kind of love and support from the people in her life.

“What of you, Melia?” Aeron looked at her, realising he didn't wish to linger on a problem that had no easy solutions and took the opportunity to learn a little about her. Obviously she had come from the lands of the east, but they were not known to depart their borders unless it was to join Balfure in his conquests. “How does an Easterling find her way so far from the lands of her birth?”

“When she has even less choices than you,” Melia replied without thinking.

His brow knotted, not at all liking the sound of that. Was she driven from her home for some reason? “What do you mean?”

Melia frowned, rebuking herself for revealing something so personal, and knew he would continue to ask if she did not explain in some way. “In Nadira, a woman's family decides who she is to wed. After my father died, his family believed it was time I was married. I was given no choice in who my husband was to be, and since I had no wish to be dragged to the altar, I fled.”

“You couldn't refuse?” Aeron found the idea of forcing a woman into marriage to some man she could not endure to be rather barbaric. He knew the marriages were arranged by the noble houses of men for political reasons but elves found the whole thing rather odious. Kingdoms came and went but marriage among elves lasted forever. Eternity could last a very long time, if love was not part of that equation.

“In Nadira, a woman may not refuse a proposal of marriage arranged by her family. It is dishonourable,” Melia recited the words as it was explained to her at the time. “My father spared me from such traditions because he didn't wish me loveless marriage. Unfortunately, once he died there was no stopping such an arrangement from being made by my well-meaning relatives. Leaving was the only course left to me.”

“That is a sad tale,” Aeron frowned, disliking any institution that made running away the only path for a young woman to escape her fate. “But I supposed you ought to be grateful,” he cast a sidelong glance at her.

“Grateful?” she stared at him in puzzlement.

“If you did not find this suitor so terribly unacceptable, you would never have left to meet me and where would we be then?” He winked at her, wearing that damnable smile she found so hard to resist.

“Deluded apparently,” but Melia was smiling when she said it.

“Admit it, my lady,” he refused to yield, “I know you like me.”

“I admit nothing,” Melia snorted, but did not resist when he pulled her arm closer to him.