Azarei's Quest

Chapter Three

Azarei met the elf in the forest. Actually, if you wanted to be specific, Azarei met the elf in the forest while being robbed. Funnily enough, it was the elf that had him at dagger-point. She stood before him with a fierce glint in her emerald green eyes. Her alabaster hair was cut short at the neck, the front strands pulled away from her face in a half up ponytail. Her face was smeared with a light dusting of dirt as if she'd been rolling around on the ground. She was stunning.

"Give me everything you have," she ordered.

Azarei gave her a blank stare and when she met his empty gaze with a fierce glare he sighed loudly and rolled his eyes, trying to appear annoyed. Trying to pretend the most enchanting woman he'd ever seen wasn't right in front of him, trying to pretend he didn't have pixies knocking about in his stomach. He was trying to pretend this wasn't the first time he could feel his heart flutter since it happened.

"I really cannot be bothered," he said with a strain in his voice, indicating he found their encounter excruciating. Maybe for different reasons than she would think.

The elf gave him another fierce glare and moved her dagger closer to him in a threatening manner.

Azarei sighed a begrudgingly mumbled out a quick Piertotum Locomotor and watched as the surrounding acorns rose and pelted her. She shouted, surprised, and raised her arms to protect her head. Not the most advanced spell, or the most mature way to win a fight, but it did the trick.

The elf had dropped her blade in her fright and Azarei slowly bent to pick it up as she was recovering from his acorn attack. He straightened and disinterestedly inspected the dagger. It's pretty nice, good craftsmanship, sharp blade. An inscripted name on the hilt catches his attention, Utia.

"Give that back," the elf barked.

Her voice was deep for a woman's, smooth like honey. He didn't think she was in any position to be giving orders.

"Could I have a please?" Azarei taunted with the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

"No, but you can have a fuck you," she sneered.

Azarei laughed, surprising himself and the elf. Her expression changed to surprise, confusion, then back to anger.

"Give me my dagger back, you fucking beast." Her words were venomous but it didn't take. Azarei has heard it all before. Not many words can hurt him.

"Hmmm..." he hummed, tapping his chin thoughtfully, mockingly. "What will you give me for it?" He asked playfully, spinning the dagger in his hands.

A boyish grin makes its way onto Azarei's face, a very rare occurrence. The elf's demeanor softened, not much, but it sure was less lethal.

"How about a drink?" She offers in a different tone, one he couldn't read.

"Is this drink poison free?" He inquires.

The elf offers him a small smile, it's the most grand thing he's ever seen.

"I'll take your poison free and I'll raise you a 'I won't spit in it' guarantee," she says with humour in her voice and a fetching smile on her lips.

"Why don't we make it a pitcher?" He bargains, not wanting this to end after a single drink.

She tilts her head and makes a face as if she's thinking, she raises a perfect finger to her pretty pink lips, "I suppose I can make that deal."

She reaches out a hand and they shake on it.

Azarei follows her wordlessly to the nearest tavern, they don't speak at all. He's very caught up trying to pretend the rock of a world he's standing on isn't crumbling beneath him at the hands of a fucking elf. Of course the only woman to catch his attention in ages is a fucking elf, how cliché.