Raevin smiled and leant over to pat her on the back. A far cry from the desiring touches he had given her almost a year ago. This time it was comforting and friendly. A high amount of respect in that single movement and point of contact.
"We'll be working with each other for many years I suspect."
"I will only live until I'm forty or fifty," she replied. "Whereas you're an elf. You'll live far beyond me."
Raevin smirked slightly, and he lowered his voice again to whisper. "Stare, you work for ... Well, you know. If there is one thing he will work on doing, it is extending your life."
She sharply breathed in, and stared at the grain of wood before her. Of course, she had considered the idea of her living longer because of Vitruvion's magic before. It was something he himself had commented on, even when she was just a guest of his in the Hollow.
"We'll need to do something about that," was what he had said.
"Raevin! Stare!" came a sudden voice.
And both of them looked up. Along with around all of the guards in the room. All but those who were passed out from drink or exhaustion.
The voice came from the iron door leading to the Hollow, and it was rich and full of precious tones. Like a luxurious melody it sung out to the many ears and made the two aides sit up with attention and understanding. Knowledge also that they were being commanded by he who ruled their lives.
White-blonde hair, piercing blue eyes. Dressed in dark blue tail coat and breeches, with thigh-high black leather boots. He had his cane in hand, tipped with the head of an owl, in memory of his beloved Blaud. Perfectly poised he was surrounded by no less than three guards, including Brer the half giant, with a mighty hammer slung over his shoulder. Between them all was an individual that Stare had not seen in the past two months in the Hollow, let alone just out of it. Her brows rose as she saw the carefully and artfully tied form of Blaze, Vitruvion's oldest guest of the Hollow and survivor now for nearing three years standing there. Red, fiery hair (hence the name). A raised chin and arched neck and fine features. A thin shirt that came to just half calf. Her hands were bound before her, pinned to her torso by the ropes. Her feet were gently wrapped with a foot and a half rope hobble. She looked pleased, and proud - that was until she saw Stare. Then her eyes began to burn with utter rage and jealousy, that made Stare herself pause and begin to wonder what Blaze still thought of her.
