Attraction & Defenestration

Nightfawn was taking a walk around the periphery of Eight-of-Dreams Holt. She walked rapidly, anxiously, her long legs propelling boots that churned and crunched the dry leaves littering the forest floor. She was trying to walk off a sense of restlessness that had enveloped her all day. Life in the Holt had been calm and placid of late, and the human woman had a growing feeling that life was passing her by, that great happenings were calling to her from elsewhere while she slept and woke and slept again in this tiny corner of the world.

So rapid was her pace that she nearly fell over Black Cat, who kneeled in the center of her path, practicing his toss-stones. "Damn it, woman!" he cried out. "Do I have to hide on the tree branches like the little elves to be safe from your troll-sized feet!?"

There was no anger in his voice, however, and Nightfawn laughed in relief as she exclaimed, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" and helped him up. "Are you unhurt?" she inquired.

"I'm fine," said 'Cat, brushing some dry leaves from his clothes. "So - the human tongue comes as naturally to you as the elfin."

Nightfawn realized they'd been speaking in the human tongue all along. "Of course - I have spoken both from a babe. But you -" she looked at him in genuine surprise. The other elves in the Holt had varying degrees of fluency in the human tongue, but all had a distinct accent. Even the elves of her native village, who used both languages from childhood, had some elvish inflection to their human words. "Your speech is perfect! I'd never know you for an elf, from your voice alone!"

Black Cat stood tall and glowed from what was, to him, a fine compliment. "My parents were human," he said. "I knew nothing of the language the elves use until I met up with some troll traders, and learned to speak with them and act as interpreter to my people. I daresay I have an accent in that tongue."

"You do, as I recall," said Nightfawn slowly, reflecting over her encounter with them. "I couldn't place it before. It's a blend - both human and troll influences. Perhaps a bit more of the trollish."

"Understandable. I have spoken more to trolls than to elves in my time. Did you not hear my story about the mercenary band of trolls I led, as we tunneled from a snowy mountain to a seaside outpost?"

"I did not." Nightfawn's brown eyes glowed. This sounded like an epic tale, indeed!

"I'll do a special telling, just for you," 'Cat replied, smiling up at the tall human's face. He found her handsome indeed, and decided that he'd like to do more than just tale-spinning alone with her this day. He decided to start with a clean slate. "I'm sorry about that troll-foot remark."

"Oh, forget it, it's true anyway."

"Nonsense," 'Cat said intently, stepping in close to her. She could smell licorice root on his breath. "Your feet are just the size that a beautiful woman's should be." His single eye glinted as it deeply searched hers.

Nightfawn's eyes widened in alarm. 'Cat was getting too close, too fast. She wasn't sure she'd ever want him that close anyway, no matter how slow he took it! "Um, I have to go," she stammered. "I was just on my way ... somewhere." Stepping backwards, she tried not to break into a run. "Goodbye, Black Cat!"

"Huh. 'Goodbye' she says," muttered 'Cat to himself, watching her retreat into the woods. "Neither 'see you later, Black Cat' nor 'until we meet again, Black Cat.' You're losing your touch, that's sure." He slumped against a tree trunk and sat down.

"Those two would make a fine couple," noted Rainbow Dreamer lazily, gently swinging her legs under the branch on which she sat.

"Who? Where?" inquired Treesong, craning her neck to look where 'Bow pointed. "Oh, Black Cat and Nightfawn? You would match up an elf and a human, wouldn't you, 'Bow?" the young girl added with a wink.

Sweetwind followed their gazes as she took another juicy berry from Treesong's basket. "They're just talking," she said.

"That's how Marq and I started out, just talking," replied Rainbow Dreamer. Her eyebrow arched knowingly. "Talk can lead to many things."

Treesong heaved a sigh with a dreamy smile on her face. "That's so romantic."

Sweetwind leaned forward a bit to get a better view of the human and elf who conversed a little way from the tree the three maidens sat in. "Y'know, when Black Cat first showed up here, I thought he was a healer." Her two companions turned their heads to stare blankly at her. "Because he wears black," she added.

Understanding dawned on 'Bow's face. "Ah, because every healer at Eight-of-Dreams wears black, you thought all healers dress that way!"

Treesong chimed, "That's right! I never thought about that before. Dreamchant and Nightwind and-" She was cut short by a swift nudge from 'Bow's swinging boot. The young plantshaper swallowed her sentence with a gasp as she realized the reason for the warning kick. The Holt's other black-clad healer had been lost during a hunt under Sweetwind's leadership (see the story Cataclysm). Sweetwind brooded about it sometimes, and had markedly avoided taking on any leadership roles since then. Reminding her of the incident was guaranteed to put her in a bad mood. Treesong glanced with concern at the plains elf, but her copper-skinned face was expressionless and it was impossible to tell what she was thinking. Meanwhile, 'Bow smoothly filled in the break in the conversation. "Yes, Dreamchant and Nightwind wear black, but Myst, the healer of my old Holt, Ever-Green Valley, wears blues and whites. Black Cat wears black, and as we know, he has no healing powers whatsoever."

"Healer or no," purred Treesong, "looks like Nightfawn wouldn't mind if he laid his hands on her!" Indeed, Black Cat was now standing quite close to the tall woman - but just then, she held up one hand in a salute of farewell and retreated, leaving the elf alone in the forest. 'Cat sauntered over to a nearby tree and sat down with his back against it, lighting one of his seegars as he did so.

"Pew!" whispered Treesong, making a fanning motion with one hand. "I'm leaving!"

"I like the smell," declared Sweetwind. "He's good-looking, too. Maybe I'll take up where Nightfawn left off."

"Be careful, Sweetwind," advised 'Bow. "He was raised by humans and often seems more human than elf. Nightfawn may be the only one who interests him."

"Hmmm..." Sweetwind considered. "Perhaps I'll start with something I know he'll be interested in."

The sun was setting by the time Sweetwind had completed her preparations. Lugging a heavy basket with both hands, she searched for Black Cat and finally found him washing his face in the LittleRill.

"Hello, Black Cat." She sat down on the bank next to him. "If you're not busy right now, I'd like to give you this gift and have a little talk."

'Cat eyed the basket greedily. It seemed to contain several wineskins, some nuts, and various unidentifiable tidbits of food. "I'm not busy at all," he replied heartily.

"Well, then," murmured Sweetwind, moving her lips close to his ear, "this wind is a bit chilly. Shall we move to someplace ... warmer?" She found she was talking to air, however, as 'Cat had dipped his head toward the basket. Her jaw dropped in astonishment as he wolfed down the honey-coated roast chestnuts, the venison with savory sauce wrapped in seedcakes, the fruit paste balls rolled in chopped walnuts, the fresh fish slices with melon, all the lovely delicacies she'd spent most of the day making. When every crumb was gone, 'Cat let out a belch and replied, "Thanks, I was starving. Someplace warmer, you say? How about a fire ring? A roaring fire will go well with the wine." He picked up the basket and strode off in the direction of the nearest fire ring.

"Actually, I was thinking of my hollow..." Sweetwind jumped up and followed the tall elf. "That food was enough for two, you know!"

"Damn, it was, wasn't it?" 'Cat stopped so she could catch up with his long stride. "I apologize, Sweetwind, but you must understand that enormous quantities of food are required to keep me going, what with all the strenuous menial labor that is required around here, and the intense amounts of concentration I give thinking of ways to improve our lives, planning for the benefit of elves, trolls, and all mankind!" He flashed a heart-melting smile, and they began walking together at a more reasonable pace. "So it's very noble of you to contribute to my effort, and to invite me to put my feet up for a while with this very fine wine. That's why I feel compelled to accept your invitation at once." He held out his arm to her.

Sweetwind was so charmed by this speech (although she realized it was pure dung) that she was quite happy as they walked arm-in-arm towards the fire ring. Until they arrived to find a group of elves already there, gathered around a good-sized fire.

Before Sweetwind could tug him away towards another, more private, fire ring, he had greeted the elves and motioned for her to sit as he took the wineskin that was being passed around. It was a lively party already and it grew more boisterous when the first wineskin was emptied and 'Cat passed around the skins from his gift basket. Some of the best storytellers in the Holt were present so Sweetwind relaxed and let herself enjoy the company and the merriment, resolving to try to get 'Cat alone at some later point. 'Cat told a long story starring himself, and the plains elf paid rapt attention. Her attraction to the pale-skinned elf was growing, not because of the story (which was also pure dung), but simply because of his feline grace and the suaveness of his manner. It struck her there was something funny about his voice, though. A familiar accent that she couldn't quite place.

She didn't drink very much, and waited until Black Cat had drunk enough to be gregarious and agreeable. She offered to take him out to the practice range with her the next day for some private lessons. His negative reply left her spirits rather dampened.

Sweetwind poked her head into Sky Arrow and Moon Dreamer's ground-level hollow. "Can I come in?"

The two had been half-dozing, half-cuddling. "Sure, come in," Sky Arrow said, raising herself to an almost-sitting but still languorous position. Sweetwind seated herself at the foot of the furs, next to Gold-Eyes and Starsinger.

"What are your wolf-friends doing in here?" the archer asked.

"I don't know, they just decided to visit us this morning," replied 'Arrow. "By the way, your hair's a fright."

"The wind was frisky last night," replied Sweetwind. She tried to run her fingers through the unruly mess, but they wouldn't go. There were too many knots.

"Let me brush it for you," 'Arrow said, reaching for her hairbrush. Sweetwind turned around so 'Arrow could reach the back of her head. 'Arrow continued, "So, what's on your mind?"

"What makes you think there's something on my mind? Ouch."

"Sorry. Sweetwind, it's almost dawn. You never get up this early, or stay up this late."

"I was at the fire ring with some people, but they've all drunk too much wine and fallen asleep where they're sitting."

Moon Dreamer seemed to be sleeping now as well, his arm protectively over his lovemate's lap. For a short while there was silence in the chamber except for the rustling sound of tangles being teased out of soft woolly hair.

Then Sweetwind said, "Have you seen that elf called Black Cat?"

"Yes, of course. He's been around for a while now."

Sweetwind sighed. "Doesn't he have the cutest butt?"

"I can't say I've seen it," 'Arrow replied dryly, "he's always sitting on it." A snort from Moon' at this remark proved he was not fully asleep.

"Well, it is cute," said Sweetwind defensively. "And his skin... it looks as soft as water, as pale as fog..."

"If you think he's so desirable, you should join with him," advised Sky Arrow pragmatically.

"That's just it!" burst Sweetwind. "I've given him food, flirted with him, all but set a time for him to come up to my hollow, and he shows no response!"

"Then that's exactly what you should do," 'Arrow pointed out, "set a time for him to come to your hollow. Tell him you want to join with him and make sure he knows where. Then you'll find out for sure whether he's interested."

"I'm afraid that he's not interested," said Sweetwind, looking glum. "I tried inviting him out to the practice range so we could be alone. I offered to tutor him with the bow, and he turned me down cold."

"Oh, Sweetwind!" exclaimed Sky Arrow. "Of course he doesn't want to take up archery, he's got only one eye!"

"What's that got to do with it?"

"You see," explained 'Arrow patiently, as if she were teaching a cub, "it takes both eyes to judge distances. If you have only one eye, everything you see looks flat. When you can't tell how far things are, it's difficult to aim an arrow at them. It's difficult to do a lot of things, like climbing trees and catching game."

"Oh." Sweetwind digested this. "I've never known anyone who was missing an eye, except Fisher, and he's missing both."

"Try it sometime. Shut one eye before you go out to the practice range and keep it shut the whole time. You'll see how important it is to have two eyes."

"So you think," said Sweetwind slowly, "that maybe Black Cat turned me down because he didn't want to shoot arrows, not because he didn't want to be alone with me."

"Exactly!" 'Arrow said. She had gotten all the knots out now, and the bristles of her brush massaged Sweetwind's scalp deliciously. "So go find him and tell him when to show up at your chamber, and I'll wager you three plump rainbow fish that he'll be there promptly."

"With his arrows nocked," yawned Moon', "for a different kind of shooting."

"Thank you, you two! You have been greatly helpful!" Sweetwind got up and left. She was lighthearted once more and her own soft sleepfurs beckoned, but she decided to take care of one important piece of business before she retired. She slipped quickly back to the fire ring. Several elves were zonked out there, reeking of wine, in very uncomfortable-looking positions which they would be bound to regret when they awoke. Among them she found Black Cat.

"Hey," Sweetwind said, nudging him with her booted toe. Then "Hey, you!" a little louder. Once again, subtlety was not doing the trick. She decided to go all the way with the direct approach, so she grabbed both sides of the front of his vest and hauled him up. "HEY!" she shouted in his face. His eye sprang open, then squeezed painfully shut against the dawnglow in the sky.

"Black Cat! This is Sweetwind! If you want to join with me, show up at my hollow at nightfall. It's straight above Wind and Whistle's. Got that?"

'Cat emitted a couple of unnatural noises, so she shook him a little. "Got it," he finally croaked.

"Good. Don't forget," she added, and, letting go of his vest, let him fall back into his previous position. She was about to leave when the thought struck her that he would be far too stiff and sore for her liking at nightfall if he spent much longer in his current position. One leg was bent at the knee so that his heel was under his buttock. She straightened it, pulling both legs to match. She laid his arms straight along his sides then aligned his head so his neck wouldn't be sore. His head was now laying on a rock, however. She looked around for something to pillow it with. The snoring Dreamstealer's cloak looked tempting for a moment, but she rejected the notion of borrowing without asking. Then she grinned to herself - there were at least five empty wineskins scattered carelessly around the circle. She gathered them up. One, unfortunately, proved to be holding a last mouthful of wine, which poured over her boot as she picked it up. When stacked underneath 'Cat's head, the multiple layers of leather provided as nice a pillow as he could want. He would sleep comfortably now, and be alert for the evening.

Uh-oh, one more thing - the pinkish dawnlight was already yellowing and intensifying. Soon the Daystar would appear. It might waken 'Cat. Sweetwind bent and pulled his headband down to shade his single eye. Strange, she thought, why can't one eye see distances? What is it like, I wonder...

Several Wolfrider elves were returning to the Mother Tree at that time, ready for a good day's sleep. Dreamchant and Wolf Blade, with sleepy children in their arms, observed Sweetwind ahead of them, staggering uncertainly towards the Tree. Her face was squinched up, one eye shut, her tongue stuck out in concentration. She had both her arms out for balance yet stumbled and nearly fell on every step and root.

Wolf Blade wrinkled her nose. **Pew, it smells like Sweetwind took a bath in Dreamstealer's wine vat!**

**Odd,** remarked Dreamchant to her mate. **She usually doesn't even drink enough wine to make Merrywind stagger!**

Sweetwind sighed and glanced out the window of her hollow. It was now past nightfall by anyone's reckoning. Twilight's shadows had swallowed the whole forest, and stars twinkled down over the Holt. She'd been sitting quietly, well-groomed and perfumed, for far too long. Black Cat was not coming.

"That's three fish 'Arrow owes me, anyway," she muttered to herself, rising and peering out the chamber door on the off chance he was approaching. The hallway was empty and still. The silence was so deep that the whole Tree might have been deserted.

Depressed, Sweetwind poked around looking for something to distract herself. Removing a gray leather pouch from one of her baskets, she sat down facing the chamber door and poured the contents of the pouch out onto the floor. Now was the perfect time to count her collection of silver bits in privacy. She began arranging them on the floor in the rough shape of a platter - the platter she would someday have the Holt's metal-worker One Eagle make. (see the story Once Upon A Silver Platter...). Sweetwind's collection was growing nicely. There were now enough rings, buttons, beads and such to make up the entire border of her "dream platter." The process of acquiring the silver was slow, though, since Dreamchant had ordered the plains elf to keep the project secret. Not just from the greedy trolls but from most of the Holt itself, for safety's sake. To this end, Sweetwind stayed alert to any movement in the corridor outside her door: she was ready to sweep the silver back into the bag should anyone approach her doorway.

Unfortunately, this left her with her back to the window.

The queasiness and the headache had finally subsided so Black Cat took his exercise in the woods. The shadows grew long. He paused to watch the sunset from a hilltop. Something nagged at the back of his mind - this sunset was supposed to remind him of something. With the headache gone, it didn't pain him to think any more, so he thought hard, just because he could. And eventually he was rewarded with the memory of Sweetwind's invitation.

"Arrrgh," he moaned. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with her. She bonded with a cat instead of with a smelly wolf, at least. But she was an elf. She was so unlike a human, and Black Cat considered himself human through-and-through. The image of Nightfawn came unbidden to his mind, so reassuringly solid, so tall, with heels that pounded the ground as she walked. No, none of the weak and scrawny elves could ever interest him ... the only thing to do was not to go. So he stayed where he sat, watching the deepening colors of the night sky.

His stomach rumbled. 'Cat hadn't eaten all day, due to the hangover. He wondered if Sweetwind had any more of those treats in her hollow. "Perhaps the right thing to do," he said to himself, "would be to go over there in person, explain my point of view, and very gently take my leave of the poor lovesick lass. And if she were to offer me a bite or a drink, I wouldn't be so impolite as to say no..."

Sweetwind smelled stale smoke and musty leather at the same moment she heard a gravelly voice behind her comment, "What's this? An elf, hoarding silver?!"

She whirled around. Black Cat stood less than an arm's length behind her. "Wha - How did you get in here?" she sputtered.

'Cat jerked his thumb at the window. "Through there, of course." He knelt and ran his fingers through the silver bits. Any explanation he had been going to make to the elf had been forgotten. "A stash like this could keep the unluckiest gamester going three days..."

Sweetwind belatedly recalled 'Cat's floating ability. She cursed herself for being so stupid. Dreamchant would definitely bawl Sweetwind out, but good, if the Chieftess found out about this slip-up.

Black Cat had seated himself and was examining an oddly-shaped silver tube he had picked up. He looked up at her and his eye gleamed with excitement. "You've even got a silver pipestem!"

"Is that what that is?" Sweetwind forgot her concerns as she sat down next to his leather-clad body. He was so sexy when he was enthusiastic. "If that's of any use to you, feel free to take it." When she got to know Black Cat better, she would think twice before phrasing any offer so it could be interpreted as open-ended. But 'Cat was demonstrating how the pipestem fit between his teeth, and Sweetwind watched intently.

"Let me try," she purred. Pressing her lips against his, she nudged him to pass the pipestem into her mouth.

Black Cat may have been raised by humans, and not one bit interested in female elves, but there are some things that come naturally when one is alone in a cozy hollow with a determined elf of the opposite sex. And another thing that came naturally to 'Cat, with a treasure-trove of silver spread out across the floor, was to stay until he could figure out how to get some of that silver for himself.

Morning sun through the window woke Sweetwind. She stretched luxuriously under the furs, her skin still tingling from the night's bodydancing. Her deep yawn was cut short, however, by a coughing fit. The air in the chamber was stuffy with smoke. She decided she didn't like the smell after all.

"'Morning," rasped 'Cat when Sweetwind's coughing subsided. Leaning back into the sleeping pit, he drew deeply on his seegar. Sweetwind sat up and frowned as she saw a big chunk of ash fall from the tip of the seegar onto her nice furs.

"Tap that into the firepit, won't you?" she said, suppressing a scowl. She got up and started getting dressed.

"Of course," replied 'Cat. He stubbed out the butt in the metal heating bowl and also began dressing. Meanwhile, Sweetwind noticed that the smell of smoke clung to her tunic. She gazed around the chamber, realizing that all her possessions were going to reek of smoke for some time to come. Sure, 'Cat had been fun, but was it really worth it?

From the corner of her eye she saw 'Cat scoop up a handful of her silver and stuff it into his belt. "What do you think you're doing!" she cried, outraged.

'Cat turned to her, a masterfully composed look of hurt innocence on his face. "You said if it was of any use to me, I should take it."

"I meant the pipestem, not the lot of it! You knew that!" She stepped over to guard the remainder of the silver. "Give it back!"

"What do you need it for, anyway? You're an elf! You don't have treasurelust in your heart like every self-respecting troll feels, do you?"

"The Chieftess says I can't tell -" she began, when the word "treasurelust" rang a bell inside her. It was a word she had hitherto only heard trolls use. And now she recognized that odd quality she'd noticed in Black Cat's voice - he may have had the voice of an elf, but he spoke just like a troll! She was shocked and repelled. Time had dimmed her hatred of the troll race, intellectually at least - but, caught by surprise, she reacted on a purely emotional level: she couldn't bear having him in her chamber for another moment. "Out the way you came, troll-tongue!" she shouted, and charged at him.

Black Cat had made the same mistake as Sweetwind did the night before: he was standing with his back to the window. When the enraged she-elf head-butted him in the gut, all his breath escaped with a great "OOOOF" and he was propelled out the window, buttocks first. He barely had the presence of mind to float.

Midafternoon found Sweetwind alone in the kitchen, chopping up some autumn gourds. She was still fuming over the incident of that morning, and whacking the gourds in half with her heaviest cleaver helped release the tension. She was primarily angry that 'Cat had nonchalantly stolen one-third of the silver that she'd saved up for so long. She was a bit angry with herself as well, on two accounts. First, that she'd been so rash as to eject 'Cat out her window before taking the silver back somehow. And second, because she had discovered that she lacked the spine to complain to Dreamchant about the theft. If she told the Chieftess that 'Cat now knew about the silver cache, 'Chant might order her to abandon the platter project, and Sweetwind couldn't stand the thought of that.

K-CHUNK! The cleaver fell again and another gourd split cleanly in half. A shadow fell across the doorway and the plains elf turned to see her nemesis enter.

"Sweetwind," he said peaceably. "I hope you're not mad -"

"Did you come to give me back my silver?" the maiden demanded in a whisper.

"No, but -"

"Then I'm mad!" snapped Sweetwind, turning her back to him.

"I came to apologize for making you mad," he continued. "But the silver, as I see it, is simply what's due me, for my services rendered last night."

"Services!? I didn't contract with you for anything! Give me my silver back!" she hissed.

"But you must agree that you enjoyed me well last night. Wasn't I worth a handful of silver? What are you hoarding silver for, anyway?"

"Could you keep your voice down when you say that?" Sweetwind looked around uncomfortably.

"Why, is it a secret?" 'Cat looked closely at her. "It is a secret, isn't it? Well, well, well - I would happily trade my silence for another handful of silver."

"Why, that's ... that's ..." If there was an elfin word for blackmail, Sweetwind didn't know it. Outraged, she flung the cleaver from her hand in 'Cat's general direction. She was aiming to miss, but the way he ducked gave her such satisfaction that she grabbed the gourds from the cutting board and began throwing them too - aiming this time. 'Cat levitated himself and dodged, airborne. "You lanky drone-bee! You lazy overgrown hummer-bird! No wonder you float, the ground doesn't want anything to do with you!!" sputtered the infuriated elf. She began throwing the chopped pieces of gourd. Slimy seeds flew in all directions; still, 'Cat managed to escape a direct hit. "You smoke-stinking thief! You ashpit-mouthed sloth!! STOP DODGING ME!!" Her chopping board went next, and finally the pot and pan simultaneously, missing him by a hairsbreadth. Finding nothing else handy, with a roar the archer flung herself at the floating scoundrel. But she could not catch him by surprise as she had that morning. He blocked her and made to throw her over his shoulder. She grabbed him around the neck and clung, pounding with her fists on his back.

Black Cat ceased levitating and they fell to the floor, where he could use his greater weight to get the drop on her. Sweetwind's arms were very strong - she pulled one of the heaviest bows in the Holt - but she had little experience with hand-to-hand combat, and she was up against a veteran brawler. Quickly he had her pinned her down. She struggled, but was unable to move.

"Now, shall we discuss this reasonably?" murmured Black Cat.

"Thief," whispered Sweetwind in return. But she stopped struggling.

"Let me keep the silver I've got, for services rendered, and for just another handful I'll keep your secret."

"Ha! I'll give you nothing for services rendered." She wriggled her hips under him a little. "You enjoyed yourself just as much as I did, might I remind you."

"Mmmmm..." she could feel his breath as he touched his lips to her earlobe. His voice was a hot whisper. "Then let me keep the silver I've got in exchange for your secret."

"Maybe," gulped Sweetwind, panting, "if you're prepared to render ... a little more 'service' ..."

"All right ..." He loosened his grip on her arms, and nuzzled at her neck.

"Don't tell a soul, then."

"Never."

And thus began the unique, chaotic relationship between two very different elves who shared romps in the fur, frequent arguments, and a secret which bonded them for as long as treasurelust exists in the heart of every self-respecting troll.