A Wilderness Road Archive 1

His reluctance to admit that her idea was the best was quite amusing. Despite his aggravating manner he was agreeing with her for once and it would take much ability on both ends to do so throughout the journey they were to set off upon. The dwarves may not have been his favorite people but Myra admired their durability, dependability, and the hard work ethic that drove them. Grubby sometimes when it came to their gold it made them appear to a point of madness but a friendship developed with them was likely to last. "I am glad that you see it my way," her tone was teasing her glance to him only fleeting but that wicked grin back upon her features.

Moving along now upon the road his steed made but little noise when it traveled but hers had the clip-clop of the step. The gentle snorting when she spoke to it and the swishing of its tail as it smacked away imaginary flys. The air was getting cold, the chill of winter setting in along their bones and along the path. Her cloak was thick enough to handle the mountains but slightly stuffy in this air. It would be why when they made it a few paces from town she would lower the hood.

Traveling was one of the few joys that she experienced for on the open road there were not as many prying eyes and bards tended to entertain whoever they came across. Hearing the old tales and stories showed her just how large the world actually was. Head leaned slightly back to view the large sky above them it was a clear morning and the dew was now slipping off of the world and it was waking fully. Even the sun was beginning to rise to the center of the sky.

It was peaceful.

That was until his highness had to bring up a question that there was no possible way to avoid. Not answering would be an answer in and by itself. "None."

The darling might have been let past with the slight stare that she gave him. Such familiarity was usually reserved for family members or a lover but he seemed have dropped all regard for addressing her properly and taken to speaking to her as if he had known her for some time. Even chastising her. Keeping a cool head in battle was one thing, it was easy even for her opponents might taunt her but they were riling her up to make her lose all sense of clear thought. He seemed capable to making her see red before even the worst might have been done to her with a sword. The mace on her side called to her, like a clear thrum feeling the blood lust that rolled off of her shoulders. In the look that came his direction he might see it as well. Abandoning this quest in search of a less fool hearty elf might be her best chance of making it there at all for she was uncertain whether she could tolerate his presence for that long.

Then again he was making an effort, a poor one, but an effort. That was until he corrected her grammar and how she was to address him. Spite was all she could muster as she said rather coldly, "I apologize, your highness, you see I was not raised in a grand hall where I was taught to speak to my betters."

Full of piss and vinegar she could not keep her anger out of her words as she continued, "I lived without and learned that in order to make it in this world it is not what comes out of my mouth that matters but what I can do with these two hands. They are the only thing that provide comfort now."

Eyes back on the road her horse snorted once shaking its head and flinging its braided mane. It sensed no danger other than from her having felt her thighs tighten and her hand touch its neck which was generally a sign of battle to come.

What was meant to discourage had only encouraged his rather heinous view of his self-inflated ego. Perhaps yesterday the spoken word that she had given him was not enough to express just how fully she disliked his character. His view on the world rather skewed from how it should have been she supposed the fact he was raised in comfort with servants hanging on his every word had to do with it. Either way he twisted every little thing that came out of her mouth to the point she wished to make sure he could not speak. Thinking on the options she could always knock him out, perhaps stitch his lips together. The mental image brought a perverse smile to her face though he could only catch the edge of it the way she was facing. Tarring it shut also came to mind.

Instead she would speak plainly and try and reel in all of her emotion, "I am afraid that we shall just have to agree to disagree your highness."

Goading was the word she searched for every time that the man opened his mouth. It was if he was asking to be kicked down a few pegs and shown just exactly how she felt, "On many things," she would finally start measuring her words carefully, "On your hierarchy, on your belief that you are better than I, on the fact that most things cannot be done or at least began by only one person."

Frankly finding the jewel could not be completed by only herself and thus her predicament but she wasn't going to bring about that point and give him fuel for his fire.

"Because, your highness," she stressed the term his smile not shared by her as she looked to him bright eyes darker for her mood, "I do not say it because you are my liege or my better but because it is the most insufferable term I can think of to call you."

He referred to the tavern and she was not amiss of the fact he viewed her hitting him as nothing. Rapping him across the face hard enough to leave a mark would shame most men who believed a female to be weaker but as drow she was stronger than almost any man. "You'll find out if you persist," she growled her sour expression centering itself on the road.

A victory won but not enjoyed. There had been mirth originally in insulting him and carrying on in such a manner but he had never taken one seriously up til now. Even the punch she had thrown had done very little to change his manner. The bullet hitting its mark should have made her smile but instead she felt shamed from her actions. They had been that of a child who knew no better and she had not been testing his mettle so it had been unnecessary.

The decision made to refer to him in a degrading manner her mind had not been changed there but she could do somewhat better. "Look I," carrying a frown that changed into a grimace she would speak softly to where he would truly have to listen to hear her, "I should not speak in such a manner but you are infuriating in ways I cannot fully describe," realizing she wasn't going the right direction she drew in a deep breath and shot out a short, "I'm sorry." It was sincere if not said grudgingly.

By drawing back his horse he was accepting the inevitable that they were going to have to get along and some effort on his part to reel in his overzealous nature would be required. Or at least she saw it that way. Misinterpreting led both of them to higher tempers and irritation that could have otherwise been avoided. Keeping an easy pace on her steed his perhaps could go without food and water but she would have to make sure hers did not die of exhaustion or thirst or hunger. Taking care of a living breathing creature taught her the love found in caring for another. Even if it was not a humanoid.

"I could not say that because it is not true," she did enjoy conversation, she saw little of it on the road, she flashed him a small grin, "But I do not enjoy being corrected."

It was a small olive branch that he might exploit in the next few moments but his willingness to continue with any sort of conversation was a step in the right direction. A baby step, but a step. "Many things," it was a topic she was well versed on and would be happy to discuss, "They enjoy a good ale, not that you'll find much outside of their halls. Stones as well, ones of clarity and precision not possible to be done by humans. They craft such work that even the elves could not hope to marvel because of their sheer joy for the work they do. It may not be the same style as your own or even that of the drow but it is beautiful no less."

The subject obviously dear to her she would get to why he had asked, "As a gift none would please them as it is not done out of your own will. They would appreciate something of the beauty of your culture as they see very little of it and find it handsome to have a gift they cannot produce on their own."

The last thing that one expected out of the sullen drow was for her to laugh. For the joyful tinkling of her laughter that was so like their cousins to come spilling from her mouth as he sullenly protested that his own brethren produced much more beautiful items than the dwarves could have done. Covering her mouth when it would not be eased simply by fading. Giggling still when he spoke about gold and other items she would protest, "It is comparing apples to oranges. No true comparison can be made and yet they are both useful, succulent, and while one may not prefer the brightest red of an apple they cannot help but admit it is vibrant."

Drawing breath heavily after such an extended session of release the tension in her shoulders began to let loose. He was good for a laugh if nothing else and his time among the dwarves would certainly bring many more. Seeing as how she spoke the language and doubted he had a grasp for it she could apologize for him readily and offer some joke about his hoity toity personality.

"If you refuse to do a physical gift you may give them something you prize so highly as well. Perhaps a song of some sort?"

His voice would be alight with the sort of adornment that he compared the elven jewels to. While he was like a diamond shimmering and catching every color she was deeper colors. Ranges of sapphires, rubies, and emeralds, shades that the drow touched in the depths of their voice and in the difference between them. Not like apples and oranges but like different shades of apples, some sweet and some bitter.

The dwarves might have found his words to be a compliment when he called them sturdy. As a race in whole they are industrious and hardy creatures and enjoyed their privacy above most else. Myra befriending them had been a matter of time and research. Speaking the truth when she met them about her quest they respected that much at least. No pretty lies from her mouth as she spoke of the beauty of the jewel almost bating them for the would see it as a worthy cause.

"Very sturdy," her good mood remained with that comment her voice reflecting some of the smile in her face. Her hood slid down she was easier to be seen now even from his side angle though when they conversed she would look to him keeping a steady eye not only on the road but partially on him.

"I have. I think you would find their halls to be welcoming in that regard. They are rounded and have a way of sending the sound back in an echo that only compliments the voice," fond of the memory she spoke warmly of it.