Of the Eternals

Landing wasn’t any more fun than taking off. In order to stay hidden as best as possible, Granger practically fell out of the sky, swooping down through the drizzle to a clear spot in the woods near a sprawling town.

Roscrow did not need to tell Granger to wait for them. The dragon already knew the command would come and curled up on a dry spot under a cluster of large trees, asleep before the elves walked away.

The walk into town was cold and wet for S’re. Already soaked from the flight, she hugged herself and shivered while she trudged after Roscrow. She kind of hated admitting that she missed being held tight in his arms. Purely for the warmth, of course. He had been a furnace against her back. Not to mention the other thing she had felt against her back, causing her to blush repeatedly every time it crossed her mind.

Despite his long legs, Roscrow marched at a measured pace so that he did not leave her behind. Though she knew he was accustomed to walking beside humans, she found the ease he showed with his restraint despite his eagerness to reach their destination impressive enough.

Before they stepped foot into the town, S’re could feel the curious gazes of those who braved the rain. While she tucked her head down and kept her face hidden in the shadows of her hood, she admired Roscrow’s confident stroll. Head held high, he expected that people would move and they did so in a hurry, staring on in wonder, fear, and distrust.

His boots thumped against the floorboards of the tavern, drawing the eyes of the early patrons. It didn’t require keen elven ears to hear their whispers.

Roscrow ignored them and slid into one of the especially tall bar stools in an unused corner. On the other side of the counter was a pastel purple and orange Vorishki cleaning a cup in the sink with its lower hands, pouring a drink with another, and wiping the dribbles with the last. First the middle eye focused on him, then all three. The alien did not seem amused, eyes narrowing at his beguiling grin.

“Vala...”

“Vosc’ow,” she replied tersely. Her middle eye never left him while the others roamed to watch the customers leave their pay on the tables and hurry out the door. Then they locked on S’re for a second, and she wondered what the alien woman must be thinking. Unable to see into this person as she had grown accustomed to, S’re realized she’d almost forgotten what that was like.

Focusing on Roscrow again, Vala continued washing the dishes while she leaned forward on her upper arms to be eye level with the Q’Hu. “Vhat jew need, thawgul?” she asked casually in a thick accent.

Roscrow gasped, slumping back against the chair, hand on his chest. “You wound me, Vala, sal’bah!”

Shaking her head, she reached out a hand and flicked him on the forehead.

S’re almost burst into laughter at his bewildered expression. Covering her mouth, she was entirely unsuccessful in hiding her titter.

“Vala!” he protested, blinking in surprise. “Bultaj will be most disappointed to hear of this abuse!”

Now, the Vorishki grinned, showing an impressive set of predatory teeth. “Then I make it wovth it. Make boss man mad.”

Smiling with charm, he leaned in again. “Well, while he’s fuming, he can be moving mountains like a good boy because I know he misses me ... you know, whenever he’s done jerking that twig he calls a dick.” Grinning, his brows waggled. “You can tell him I said that.”

Rolling all three eyes, Vala muttered a stream of commentary in her own language as she vanished into the back.

Glancing around at the few stubborn stragglers who were too deep in their bottles to notice or care, S’re slipped into the stool next to him, her feet dangling off the chair made for the tall aliens. “You must know him really well,” she said softly.

“Entirely too well,” he answered with a slight smirk. “Though, not entirely by choice. If I had even the slightest interest in other men, Bultaj would be the first one on his knees before me, and he’d love the rejection.”

Pressing her lips together to unsuccessfully hide her smile, she shook her head and muttered under her breath. “You really are a rapscallion.”

Glaring at her from the corner of his eye, his annoyance melted as one side of his face curled up playfully. “Centuries require entertainment.”

Before S’re could reply, the front door opened. Solid thuds of tremendous black military boots caused Roscrow to stiffen noticeably. Shimmering sapphire orbs in almond voids swept the entire bar like precision lasers. Elegant ears stretched upwards as far as wet black hair in a loose ponytail reached down past mountainous shoulders. Each table the enormous Q’Hu passed emptied of the last few patrons until there was no one left.

Stopping behind them, his clear voice, low and slow and deep, could put a dragon to shame. “Roscrow-- alt-- Szizander.”

S’re peeked over at Roscrow from the corner of her eye. Sucking in a breath that was more apprehensive than he intended to show, he let it out and turned the barstool with an affable grin, leaning back on his elbows casually. “Ah, Uncle Balgarir! I was wondering if you were going to catch me. I had almost thought myself clever.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, the older Q’Hu eyeing him with the stoic expression of a mountain. “I assumed you would be more impressive as the son of Dane. Your profile nearly excited me.”

Roscrow clutched his chest with a dramatic gasp as though he’d been wounded. “Sir! Everything it says is truth!”

Nodding slowly, Balgarir tilted his head. A numbing shiver rode S’re’s spine when she felt those voids snap to her. She regretted turning around to peer at his face out of curiosity the instant she met his gaze. Her breath hitched.

If the connection of a Tamer could be described as a whip, he had snatched the sharp end and wrenched her into his embrace. Drawing her deep into the brilliant abyss of his extensive lifetime, he was in effortless control of what she saw, and he let her loose in the dark waters of all the most terrible lessons he had learned– of all that he could do without remorse if it served him. He did not wish to release her, and she could not turn away– a lifetime spent trying to twist free in a mere second.

Nearly knocking his chair over, Roscrow’s body broke their contact so she could breathe and put her trembling hand to her face, feeling faint. His finger ticked back and forth at the older Q’Hu, head shaking with genuine disappointment. “I cannot believe you’d dare, sir!”

The shining centers snapped back to him. “When I realized it was you I was hunting, I was curious. What reason could you have to leave your cozy mountain, oh, Lord? Espionage simply seemed unlikely. When the witnesses assured me they had discovered a H’elfling Tamer, I was intrigued. What an interesting duo.” He shook his head slowly. “As though it had been written in a book.”

Rolling his eyes, Roscrow frowned and crossed his arms. “This is why I’ve sworn off fantasy. My reality is already full of gods and dragons and odd coincidences.”

After a humorous scoff and the hint of a smirk tugging at a corner of his mouth, Balgarir returned to his dangerous sternness. “The witnesses also claimed she had some sort of... ‘fire-breathing demon’ with her? When I did a little research, I discovered she is wanted in Zaparow for stealing something from the military. An experiment, perhaps?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Roscrow flicked his wrist dismissively. “It was merely a ploy. We ... have an enthusiastic arsonist among us, so let’s just worry about one thing at a time, shall we?”

Just enough hesitation in his voice caused the soldier’s eyes to narrow suspiciously, but he dropped that subject and got right to the point. “You are both in Mardarow and it is my domain. She would put this country in a powerful position.”

Sucking in his breath, Roscrow straightened as tall as he could, eclipsed by the older giant. “With all due respect, sir, I yield in your domain, but I simply cannot let you.”

Balgarir scoffed disparagingly. “Child.”

Roscrow’s eyes rolled back so hard that his head went with them. “Always with the kid thing! I’m reminded regularly that I’m still the youngest Q’Hu in the registry, but I’m already most of the way through a human lifetime. Don’t I get some credit?”

“About as much credit as it costs for your cheap drinks.”

Letting his jaw drop, he pressed his fingertips to his chest in mock outrage. “Uncle! Such a low blow! Insulting a man’s personal tastes.”

“When a man’s personal tastes are beneath him, they deserve ridicule, oh Lord.”

Roscrow smirked with infuriating smugness, crossing his arms with a sassy tilt. “Jealous, Uncle?” Balgarir’s face tightened threateningly, but still Roscrow pressed. “You only have years on me, sir. I made sure to read your profile before I began my journey. Hardly a glowing list of accomplishments in such a span of time.”