Searching Out Strangers (Isrydia, Brenton)

[Harbor]

The worst thing in the world was felling the joy of her own momentum suddenly vanish. It didn't even bring her to an abrupt stop, simply took every aspect of the momentum away until she was entirely still, and entirely incapable of moving.

It made her want to kill him. She had known she was pitting herself in an impossible fight, so had he, so why rub her face in the fact that she was just a weak human woman by proving just how very inadequate she was? It was too bad he had magic on his side--if it was any tangible advantage, she wouldn't have bothered to cultivate her sentiments before she spoke them. "Take it off," she snarled.

[Brenton]

Brenton saw the anger flash across Rella's face as the spell immobilized her and she snarled at him to remove the spell. Without thinking, Brenton muttered another word in the Ancient Language and rope shot out at her wrists just before he ended the spell keeping her still. Silently, Brenton sheathed Undbitr and drew Argetadurna with a flourish, putting the tip against the woman's throat. Understand this now. I was trained to win no matter what and magic has sang through my blood from birth. Anyone you spar with who knows magic is entitled the right to show that. Now that I know you don't like magic then I won't use it but don't ask for me to spar and assume I know you want magic-free fighting. Not wavering, Brenton slashed the ropes and walked away from her until she was calm again.

[Harbor]

He mumbled some nonsense and Rella dropped to her knees, wrists tied. The fury felt as though her very bones were shaking with it. The drawing of a weapon on her defenseless person caused them to blacken. She couldn't even wait for him to finish speaking before she started out furiously refuting his declarations and finished by shouting them. "No matter what? Just what kind of threat does a magicless human woman present against a magical elven male? Do you not understand the difference between showing and using? Showing is proving that you have a prick and using is when you rape someone with it." And what was the difference between that example and what he'd done if he took liberties with her body without her consent? "Has it ever crossed your wavering mind that you can ask a question if you have one?" He cut her free and she ignored him to return to the table, snatching up his half-eaten apple and hurling it at the back of his head. By now she didn't expect it to hit but if he didn't know magic she knew it would have. She was an excellent shot. "Or would you just rather prove exactly how superior you are?" She heaved a second apple.

[Brenton]

Brenton listened to Rella rant on until she brought up rape and then proving how superior he was to her. That made his mind go blank and a pure rage fill him that he had not felt in years just as he saw her hurl the apple in the reflective throne. Speed had always been one of his allies and this time was no different as he swung around and slashed his hands out to catch both apples. In his moment of rage, Brenton smashed both apples like they were a piece of parchment being crumpled. I could prove that elves are superior without ever drawing a weapon or speaking but I am not like that. Did it elude you that not once did I attack you but evaded and went to disarm? Please leave behind your distaste for magic and listen. Brenton shot toward and kissed Rella. Why would I hurt you in any way after just saying that I love you?

[Harbor]

Rella stomped on his foot and shoved him off. "Because you're drunk? How should I know? Since when is restraint a form of defense? Defense is when you strictly protect yourself--offense is when you affect the other person with it. It is already obvious that you would always be the winner in this fight so why was it so important for you to prove it again." She glowered at him, standing sideways as she'd learned to when facing an opponent, a third apple gripped hard in her right hand. "There doesn't have to be blood for someone to have been harmed. Men never understand that."

[Brenton]

Brenton growled as his body began to shine with energy he drew from his surroundings and from Grazael until he was covered in a bluish gold light. You haven't seen me fight or kill those I care about. You weren't there the day I saved this entire forest by doing something that should have killed me. Where were you when my son shoved a knife into my body or when I escaped the Empire? I can get very dangerous and blood is shed but when I get that way there is no magic involved. Do you wish for me to get that way now because you act like restraint is attacking. What you do is attack when you throw apples that will never hit me just because I used one spell to immobilize you. Please! I was forced into killing people when the king used magic on me. Steadily the half elf's voice got louder and his skin was so bright it lit the whole room.

[Harbor]

Rella shaded her eyes, intimidated by yet further proof that Brenton wasn't human, wasn't normal. "Restraint when it isn't needed is attacking, Brenton, it's sheer overkill. It's like putting iron shackles on a pigeon. When the action isn't equal to the reaction it's preventing it becomes an attack. But if we want to use your argument, is it really attacking when I cause you no harm?" She yanked her shoulder pack off the table and filled it with a few handfuls of the remnants of their meal. "I think that's the problem here, in part that we will never be equals and in part because we still don't even know each other." He didn't even know her name. Jerking the drawstring shut on her bag, she slung it over her shoulders. "So, since now we've both had our tests, I'm going to find a place to sleep for the night and we can talk tomorrow when we're less likely to bite each other's heads off." She shoved open a door leading to the outside and wondered where she might find Isrydia.

[Brenton]

As Rella walked out of the room Brenton gave a bellow of rage and released all of the energy straight toward the table. A shower of wood flew through the air and Brenton fell to the ground. His mind went blank and the room went dark as he passed out on the floor. The half elf lay on the ground barely breathing and fully unconscious. All of the world passed by and no one entered the room to see the king passed out.

[Quetzal]

Isrydia and Arlyn had no way of knowing what had transpired between Rella and Brenton. The two had thought the couple were getting along all right, but they did know that Brenton could act strangely sometimes and weren't sure how the girl would feel about all aspects of his personality. The showing-off side to him tended to come out when he was 'in love' and trying to impress someone. It was odd; he would show off by claiming he was no better than anyone else and act all noble, all the while using unnecessarily extravagant magic and showing his power and positions that few else could hope to match. It was as if he didn't realise acting like that make his claim to not be better than anyone else invalid, since he made people feel unimportant and inferior when he stole their potential moments of glory. He himself could be the very definition of oxymoron.

Yet while he could still seem irrational, Isrydia knew that there were good intentions behind it all. She had heard all the rants about his unusually troubled life by now and knew that it all still got to him as much as it would anyone. Arlyn knew this even better. Isrydia had always felt awkward around Brenton because of the feelings he used to have for her, but Arlyn had got along well with Grazael and the dragon had shared a lot with him.

Isrydia had spent the time she'd been away scribbling down more numbers from lenses in her notebooks, and had stepped outside again with a few in hand. She'd carved a few wooden tubes to fix the lenses into to hold them in place, and slid a smaller tube within a larger tube to make adjusting the length easier. Arlyn was flying in the sky as she carefully marked on the wood where the best positions were to see his scales best from so far away when he spied Rella storming out of Brenton's house. He pointed the woman out to his Rider and landed nearby. "Rella? Rella, are you all right?" Isrydia crammed the work-in-progress telescope into a pocket as she hurried up to the woman.

[Harbor]

As Rella stomped out into the afternoon sun she thought about all the different ways she was irritated and then contemplated the many ways she could curb the vexation--hitting things usually worked, though she was leery of earning any other elves' ire today--and wondered if this was going to be the rest of her life. What a horrible time to start keeping promises. Life had been so much easier when she didn't have to care what other people thought. Life had been so much easier when her only interaction with the nobility had been limited to the betrayal of at least one of their family members. And she had never been involved with anyone within the king's arm's reach, but now she was firmly in the questionable hand of another one.

Somebody else's voice startled her out of her vexation and Rella jumped, twisting to face the person. "Isrydis! Hallelujah, a person guaranteed to be sensible just by race and sex. Does he always lose his head and throw his weight around with the excuse that he needs to know absolutely everything about everyone?" She huffed, lifted both hands and slapped them over her eyes because the brain beside them hurt. "I'm fine. I just have a matchstick temper." It only took one strike.

[Brenton]

Brenton felt the pain first, searing and agonizing, as the world came back into focus with all of the sounds ripping holes in his already fragile skull. He winced as each piece of wood from the table rubbed over his bruises and created red sores as he stood up slowly. Beams of sunlight filtered through the clouds of wood dust and into the eyes of the king causing him to squint to see through the pain that cut through his temples like a hot knife through butter. Brenton groaned and stumbled to the door, stepping into the light just to have it illuminate his shredded cloak and dented armor as well as the many cuts on his face and the large swollen black eye. The king walked down the stairs but stumbled and fell down, face hitting soft grass as a moan passed his lips that were cracked and bleeding.

[Quetzal]

((Brenton isn't having much luck at staying on his feet ))

While it was nice Rella was pleased to see them, Isrydia and Arlyn quickly figured that she and Brenton were not getting along so well after all. She thought about the question. Brenton did get into a lot of fights. In fact, the very first time she'd met him he had been shouting at her good friend and master, Sir William. He could be pleasant, but when he wasn't getting his own way he tended to give a speech or draw a sword. "Not always, but it does happen quite a bit. I think he just likes to try and assert his dominance over other people or something," she replied.

Arlyn hadn't thought about that much before, but he could see where his Rider was coming from. If ever it looked like someone was being better than him in some way, it seemed to the dragon that Brenton took things as a challenge. The elven king liked to be the best, from what the pair had seen so far. Of course they were not Brenton so they could not know his true motives, but it did seem like he wanted to make his superiority known, because of his own insecurities or the sheer thrill of power they couldn't guess.

"Brenton does take some getting used to. I really didn't like him at first, but now he's a good friend of mine. He might be brought to accepting that you really are his equal, or at least he should if he wants to marry you," she said. "He likes to remind people he's a strong Rider, which can lead to aggression, a flaw of his. Perhaps you could be the one to teach him to respect that other people are just as strong as he is, but in a different way; not physical or in magic, but perhaps intelligence, wit or willpower," Arlyn added.

[Harbor]

”Assert his dominance?” she repeated, simultaneously exasperated and aghast. ”I’m the bloody illegitimate daughter of a prostitute, I have no last name and my only possessions are the ones I brought with me, and he doesn’t even know the name I was born with. What the hell does he think he needs to assert over? A mountain might as well try to taunt a blueberry bush.” She fisted her hands in the air, resisting the urge to snarl and shout and then start hitting things again. Hitting things was fun and an excellent deterrent to anger.

At Arlyn’s assertion Rella’s shoulders wilted. ”Why?” she moaned. ”Why do I have to be the one to smack his ass and tell him to behave?” She brought her fists down to her face and smoothed them out enough that she wouldn’t gouge her eyes out when she rubbed them again. She could understand why someone may want to reinforce the hierarchy with those who were already equals, or were potential challengers to one’s position, but why would Brenton feel the need to do that with her? Why did the mountain need to pluck all of the leaves off the blueberry bush and tie it to stakes? What good did it do? ”All I asked was that he spar with me. It’s how I get to know people. I knew he would be better than me so I thought I could learn something. But I can’t learn anything when he insists on handing me my ass in a gift basket instead of fighting evenly.”

[Brenton]

Brenton groaned as the sun sank below the horizon, cloaking him in shadows and silence, just as a deep echoing boom sound resonated from next to him. The king looked up and saw a shadow covered Grazael curled around him just as a large golden wing covered him. It was silent in that area now that every sound was blocked out by the leathery membrane. Brenton fell asleep, rest unavailable to him. Grazael watched Rella and Isrydia before casting his mind to Arlyn. He may have been wrong but Brenton is injured and barely able to move. Do not let Isrydia speak ill of him without knowing what happened.

[Quetzal]

Isrydia and Arlyn saw Rella's anger and frustration towards Brenton plainly. The half-elf must have really irked her. It was good that she wasn't blinded by his power and money. Still, it was a shame the two hadn't got along. Isrydia hoped that they would be able to work things out. Her friendship with Brenton had started out rather poorly and in much the same way, with him fancying her and her not really liking him until they'd traveled for a little while.

"It doesn't have to be you. I still think someone like you to bring him back to earth might be good for him, but it's up to you in the end. I'd give him some time to consider taking heed of what you've said to him. Maybe we can convince him to fight fair tomorrow, by your terms," Isrydia suggested. She knew Brenton could treat people nicely and with respect. Clearly Rella didn't feel like that, so obviously he hadn't in this case. She had every faith that he would try seeing things from Rella's point of view and would apologise to her and treat her better.

Arlyn was listening to all this when Grazael's familiar voice drifted through his mind. "Bit late for that, brother. Isrydia's not trying to make Brenton look bad, but she's not lying either. We're hoping Rella will give Brenton more time, but unless he understands why Rella is angry with him and not only aplogises but treats her nicer, I doubt anyone could make those two get along. No one can force Rella to like anyone, after all," he replied to Grazael. The other dragon might have the sense to let Brenton know he'd have to try harder to be fair and nice if he wanted Rella to like him.

[Harbor]

Up to me, Rella thought dryly to herself. Yes, supposedly it was. The trouble lay in that she’d already made up her mind to come here and stay here unless the situation became utterly intolerable and she almost had to leave. It wasn’t that she knew she would be treated well here, as far as the wellness of living went, but that she’d made a promise, and for once it had been one that she intended to keep. As an outsider, or perhaps just a natural critic, she could concisely list the problems she already foresaw in this match, but most of them were merely annoyances perceived on her behalf. If she changed, rather than the other way around, her prancing king would probably be only too happy. Weren’t they all, when women bent themselves into new and untenable figures just for them? The more money a man had the quieter he liked his women, and kings tended to have a lot of money.

She shook her head, hands on her hips as she wrangled the anger back and wrestled the lid on the box she tried to keep it in. ”I’m not leaving yet, I’m just cooling off and complaining because it helps.” Temporarily. She sighed, stretching kinks out of her neck as she thought of the most diplomatic way to phrase herself. Ah, diplomacy, a burden she never thought she’d have to shoulder. Well this was what she got for doing as men asked her to do and trusting them not to be fools. What a fool she had been herself. ”We are two very different people,” she said at last, the weight of the word ‘very’ almost making her neck sag when she said it. ”And it will be troublesome to work around that. I don’t always take well to new people, and I’ve never much trusted men to begin with.” Most of them had treated her mam well, but not all. ”But this is worth just as much effort as everything else I’ve done, and as long as I don’t have to pay for lodging here it won’t kill or beggar me to stay.” She opened the eyes she had closed to think more clearly. ”Is there somewhere I can chuck my things and wash my face?”

[Brenton]

Grazael shook his massive golden head and stretched his mind out to encompass Isrydia as well as Arlyn who was right. No one can make her listen to Brenton but Rella turned to you. You both know him and that he doesn't do these things intentionally. Here is what actually happened. Grazael shared a memory of what he had seen from the hall. When it was over he spoke again. Someone born and raised being able to do something does not easily fall into not. Brenton uses magic everyday and has always done so which is why he attacked with a spell. Even afterward when filled with all that energy he held back and waited for Rella to leave. Now he is injured and avoiding talking to me for he thinks he is too different to be with Rella. After all he's half human and so his human blood sings for her companionship. As an elf though, he's unwanted by the maidens and so he lets himself die inside knowing he has bested opponents such as Ashendale but can't win Rella.

[Quetzal]

Isrydia was glad to see Rella a little calmer. People always thought better when they were calm and had time to think, she found. Not trusting men would be something of an issue when trying to form any kind of relationship with a male, which could cause further problems. Thankfully with Brenton safely unconscious he wouldn't be running after then until he had more time to think as well. The half-elf probably wouldn't be able to stop himself trying to speak to Rella immediately, but the woman was clearly not in the mood for dealing with him right now and such an encounter would only lead to disaster.

As for places to stay, Isrydia wasn't sure if any of the houses around were empty. It wasn't her place to sort out accommodation for visitors. Finding the elf who could sort something out then discussing the situation with him or her would take a long time and be tiring, and Isrydia thought it wouldn't be nice for Rella to have to go through that when she probably just wanted to clean herself and sleep and be alone. "The house I'm staying with should have room enough for you. We can sort out proper lodgings later, but for now you're welcome to stay there. Or would you rather us find you a place for you to stay by yourself now?" she offered.

Arlyn wasn't clear on human relationships, but he was certain there was something wrong with the idea of 'winning' Rella. Fighting was closer to the dragons' ways of impressing potential mates, and big displays of magic like that would prove to the opposite sex you would be a strong mother or father. But humans wanted to prove they would care for each other, not just make strong healthy children. "Brenton might be used to fighting with magic, but he should respect Rella's terms by fighting her as an equal, so a non-magic user. It's no different to fighting with a mace instead of a sword, really. And if he thinks of Rella as a prize to be won, that's definitely not right with humans. I know Isrydia hates that sort of opinion. Rella's a person, not some trophy, regardless of how much he wants her. With dragons it can be different, but humans think like that. I think Rella thinks Brenton doesn't think of her as an equal because he didn't respect her request. Brenton should start thinking about her in terms of her feelings, using some empathy, rather than in terms of his own desire," Arlyn offered, thinking through his words carefully. Humans were complicated. Dragons were too, but in this aspect he was clueless as he had yet to reach maturity and had only Isrydia's thoughts and experiences to go by. He'd seen men and woman's thoughts and seen them thinking one another to be completely different while their minds felt pretty similar to him.

[Harbor]

Since no room to stay in burst out of vacant air at her inquiry, Rella glanced behind herself, found a stone bench with curls carved into its legs and seat, and dropped herself into it. Looking wryly over at Arlyn, she dragged out a dusty smile and asked, ”Do you get offended when people don’t offer you a seat or do you think humans are ridiculous for having to give each other permission to sit?” Rella was of the second opinion, and no quantity of time spent with the nobility had been able to cure her of a resentment born simply by her own malleable station in life. When on the job, Rella could pass for anything from a half-broken beggar to the daughter of old wealth. All that mattered were clothes and bearing—what people put on every day shouldn’t matter how they were treated, how they treated others, and how they thought of the world. But the clothes people wore were like a sickness, infecting everything. It was remarkable, really.

Rella turned her gaze, now inquisitive, to Isrydia. She was young, at Rella’s age or younger. Hard to tell because of the confidence with which she presented herself, addressed herself and addressed others. Perhaps having ownership—partnership?—of a dragon had influenced her maturity. The lines around her mouth and in her lips weren’t as frequent as Rella’s own, but then Rella’s quick tongue was one of her primary weapons, and she used it well. Isrydia spoke the words that were necessary. No more and no less. Instead there were deeper than average creases in the back of her neck, indicating that she spent a great deal of time with her head tilted back. Calluses on her hand but a fair number around her fingertips as well, meaning she did a lot of finer, miniscule work. Clothes were fair and not fancy, meant to be used, not shown. She was a hard worker, straightforward, had attention to small details. An observer. All in all, different from Rella but the type of person she might be convinced to trust, at least as far as trust went.

She didn’t even bother trying to get a read on Arlyn. It just wasn’t worth it. The best she was likely to get was an estimate on what he ate, checking on what was caught between his claws.

”You’d let a complete stranger take up space in your house?” She asked then, intrigued. That certainly wasn’t a habit of the highborn. She shrugged, stretching out a cramp in her shoulder. ”Works for me. If you live in a palace I’m hightailing it though. I’ll sleep in the woods.” Pine needles were so much softer than cold dirt and cobbles. Rella stood, easing the ache in the second shoulder. ”So what were you working on?” she questioned, angling her chin toward Isrydia’s hands. ”Your fingertips were red when you first came galloping over and you’ve got calluses that aren’t from writing, they’re in the wrong places.”

[Brenton]

((Since I seem to be the only one to see Brenton's side as well ad Rella's I'm just gunna stop trying.))

Grazael growled deep in his chest as his rider fell further away from him, unconsciously building walls to block the dragon out. It was hard to do but the golden dragon accepted that his rider needed time so he stood and walked over to Arlyn. Briefly he bowed his head to Rella, deeming it inappropriate to contact her. Sometimes I do not agree with the things Brenton has done but this is not one of those times. He is brave and strong and has been through many... Grazael started to speak to Arlyn and Isrydia when a great sorrow filled the minds of those around, including Rella.

My body was burned as I dropped to save a young man who I grew up with from the day I hatched by a great lake. Many battles did I fight with him as a young boy while his mind was enslaved by a king so powerful I do not speak that name. Now the same young man is laying bloodied up with a heart heavy because he sees no way to convince a human girl of his true feelings. He blocks out that which makes him the most different from her and dies inside because humans die before him but elves treat him as an outcast. Now the two females he has fallen in love with are human but not once did he think of himself as better. This man seeks comfort and someone like him to understand.

Does it seem fair for someone to not look at how another feels but expect them to do that in return? Of you, Isrydia, I expected a little more sympathy and understanding instead of simply standing here and saying Brenton was wrong in entirety. Arlyn, I have met and trained dragons with less knowledge than you but all of them respected Brenton enough not to act indifferent. While I may not know you, human known as Rella, Brenton truly loves you and did not know you wished him not to use magic. It is possible but he refuses to invade your mind to read it. Trust that he will treat you with respect and you will be respected