Dellynthelaara, the young uncrowned queen of the dark elves was almost dead. Or at least felt or would have encouraged death to the encroaching boredom. Her eyes, like twin black pearls floating in a clear sea of milk, darted furtively around. She wished that she could have brought her scrolls or books from her personal library or even a parchment to work while she waited.
"Are you really...like...real?" asked the little Gypsy child perhaps not more than six or seven years old as she lifted her head from plucking flowers in the grove.
"I am standing before you, aren't I?" said Dellynthelaara.
"No silly. You are sitting on a branch." Little Esme giggled innocently.
The child's playful words would have rolled the impudent head or at least rewarded with lashes had it been uttered from the lips of any other. But Dellynthelaara reminded herself that she was responsible for her current predicament. Extracting the little girl from her tribe, or as it would be phrased legally kidnapping, was her own action.
"Are you really a Queen? Do you have a king?" Asked Little Esme.
"No." The dark elf's response was sharp. "I did not earn my throne by spreading my legs on velvet sheets."
Rubbing her eyes, with the back of her hands, she looked at the dark-elven girl before her with a confused look. "Why should a queen spread her legs?"
Dellynthelaara felt like a complete dunce at that question. She admonished herself for her earlier comment. Better watch what I say in front of children, noted Dellynthelaara mentally.
"Would you like some more pastries? or honeyed candies?" asked Dellynthelaara ignoring the question.
"Hmmm..." The gypsy child nodded her head with a thoughtful expression and after a pause added, "Can I have both?" She then beamed an adorable smile, almost impossible to resist, at Dellynthelaara.
Reaching into the packed bag, Dellynthelaara held out a wrapped pastry and some honeyed candies for Little Esme to snatch. Dellynthelaara leaned forward and slowly tussled the girl's frizzy hair. She was glad that the little gypsy child was not asking questions, which would have required a long and drawn-out answer and more importantly, involved discussing details that should be kept away from her for her age.
"So do you have a king?" asked Little Esme wiping the crumbs at the corner of his tiny lips with the back of her wrist.
"No, I was born a princess," replied Dellynthelaara, "and I was only until recently."
"A princess?" repeated Little Esme. She seemed a little disappointed by Dellynthelaara's answer. "But can you sing? All princesses can sing."
"No."
"Do you play the lute? All princesses play the lute."
"I was never interested in music or other artistic delights like poetry and painting. Nor was my mother the sort who would encourage me to develop my own interest," said Dellynthelaara, a hue of sadness seeping into her voice.
"But you said you were a princess," said Little Esme. Her tiny hands reached out to wipe the imaginary tears from Dellynthelaara's cheek.
Children are indeed highly perceptible, Dellynthelaara thought to herself.
"A princess is supposed to know many things. She must have a lot of things. Many things. A dress. A favorite horse. A big castle," explained Little Esme in a big voice.
"Oh really?" responded Dellynthelaara, amusement stirring in her. "Please tell me more."
"You know, Ellie says Arlene is also a princess. Do you know her?" asked Esme.
"No, but I hope to make her acquaintance soon. She should be arriving shortly."
"Really?" Little Esme's voice rose as did her happiness at hearing Arlene's name. "Ellie says, Arlene is a princess too but lost her castle and clothes and all the nice things she had. That is why she is moving always, to help people who lost things, like houses and clothes."
"Is it so? Tell me more about Arlene," said Dellynthelaara suppressing her lingering curiosity.
"That is why Arlene, went with the other Lady, just like you, to help her."
Dellynthelaara winced a little at the reference. I am nothing like her mother.
"She has black skin, like you," added Little Esme.
The young queen of the Dark Elves relaxed. Little Esme might have never seen another dark elf at her age. Her comment on similarity was a reference to their shared race and not their shared blood.
"She had a castle and lot of nice things. Anselm says bad people took everything from her," continued the gypsy child.
"Bad people." Dellynthelaara's eyes darkened at the reference -- especially since she was the reference. "Maybe she deserved all that happened to her."
"Ellie says that she was so sad but she held all her sadness in her. She never cried," added Little Esme. "They forced her to leave her sweet little girl behind."
Dellynthelaara felt an odd pang in her chest, a mixture of guilt and sadness that she could not disperse. Somehow Little Esme's innocent words brought more pain than a searing hot blade to her heart.
"Stay away from her, Esme," cried Arlene as she strode into the clearing. The half-elven ranger came into view and stood her distance from Dellynthelaara
"Arlene," screamed the gypsy girl cheerfully and ran towards her.
Arlene's hand did not reach to touch the little gypsy girl. Nor did she tussle her hair. The eyes of the half-elf were fixed on the dark elf. Arlene's fingers curled around the familiar comfort of her bow. She was assured of her own ability with her trusty bow. Should Dellynthelaara try a spell or even a dirty trick, the ranger was certain that she would place six arrows in her heart before she could in an instant.
Little Esme wrapped her tiny arms around Arlene's legs and danced, spinning around her.
"Esme, I found some pink daffodils on my way," said Arlene, voice still taut.
"Liar." The gypsy child giggled. "Daffodils are never pink."
"If you find some and make a wreathe of flowers of me, I will let you ride Mrs. Bellyrumble," said Arlene.
"Really?"
"It's a promise."
With a bigger giggle, and even bigger enthusiasm, Little Esme ran seeking pink daffodils.
"Don't go too far. Or you will get lost," added Arlene as an afterthought.
"But you always find me then, silly," replied Little Esme.
"Of course, I do Critter," teased Arlene back.
When the little gypsy girl was out of earshot, Dellynthelaara cleared her throat. A small welcoming smile appeared on her lips. "Is it safe to let her roam in the wilderness?" She asked with concern.
"Compassion," Arlene spat the word as if it were venom burning in her mouth, "is the last virtue I expected from you. Especially, since you were the one who kidnapped her from her people...all to force me to agree to this clandestine meeting."
"I take it that, my mo..." Dellynthelaara paused. Summoning her regality, she corrected herself. "Your commander is not aware."
"Of your intentions. Nor did I want her to know. The commander..." snapped Arlene. "No. My mother is not aware of your activity." By the tightening of Dellynthelaara's jaw muscles, Arlene knew she had struck a nerve -- successfully with precision.
If Dellnthelaara's heart felt sadness before, at Arlene's words, only anger and abandonment made its residence there.
"Ah yes. You are the replacement child," said Dellynthelaara composing herself.
"What do you want from me? Or better yet, why are you here?" Arlene demanded.
"We can start with the why I am here. Part of it is to warn you. To save you from a fate that befell me."
Arlene's eyes flashed with a mixture of emotions: anger, disappointment, and frustration. Dellynthelaara's word could not have been more ridiculous and the audacity of her to proclaim those words, made Arlene want to let loose a quiver of arrows at the arrogant girl before her.
"To save me?" cackled Arlene, vicious mockery spilling unrestrained. "Just because she adopted me does not make us sisters. Nor am I in need of your sisterly care. I already have a slithering nest of vipers for a sister. I do not care for another."
Dellynthelaara stood unfazed and undaunted. Her face was masked by a veneer of unreadability, the calmness of a monarch ignoring the taunts of a pauper.
"'Wants to save me' she says," laughed Arlene, "Just like how you saved her? from being exiled?"
"If you think you know Mother, then let me open your eyes," responded Dellynthelaara, with the edged voice of a sovereign, making it impossible for Arlene to ignore. "She is complicated. There is more layer to her than you think you saw. Than you think you knew."
"I know you are the one who exiled her," sneered Arlene. In a deft moment, too swift to be perceptible, she picked an arrow from her quiver and twisted it in her slender fingers casually -- making a threat.
"Then you knew nothing," said Dellynthelaara, and then she added with a softness that did not match the overwhelming domination of her voice, "I care about you. So I am revealing the naked truth. I did not exile Mother. She exiled herself."
The young queen of the Dark elves turned her back on Arlene, and walked away, for the dumbfounded half-elven rustic girl to follow.
"Mother would never let anyone grab what was truly hers. The exile was a political move that she orchestrated," continued Dellynthelaara, "You might see me as the main actor, but Mother was the playwright. Claimed it was to protect and ensure the survival of our House."
Arlene almost caught a slight sense of sadness tugging the stubbornness of Dellynthelaara.
"Though I believe, she used it to abandon me," said Dellynthelaara, "to resign me all alone on the throne."
"Why?"
"Because..." When Dellynthelaara turned to face Arlene, her eyes narrowed with killing intent, sending shivers up the unflinching ranger's spine. "She could not mold me to her will. That is why, she abandoned me and found a new daughter to replace. Just like how children abandon broken toys for new ones."
"She would not do that. I know her well. We have fought together, and saved each other's lives."
"You fought and saved her, in a way. I am not the only one who is broke. You are broken too," said Dellynthelaara, her voice as gentle as the softness of her touch. "And I am reaching out to you. To help you."
Arlene stood stunned and silent, her mouth open and her mind in a state of confusion.
"You are a tool to her. You have been a tool to her. A means to achieve her own ends. To fill her own visions. To carry her will and only her will. In that way, we are both no different." Dellynthelaara's voice turned from the soft tone to the sharp unignorable hiss of a sovereign.
"I do not believe so." Arlene's voice was filled with confidence, she was not quite sure where it was coming from.
"Then let me prove. Let me state the facts and you decide for yourself," said Dellynthelaara, as her eyes turned dark with determination. "Mother always had strong opinions and yet she would willingly bend those views if it suited her needs."
"She has seen many battles. She is not a politician," snapped Arlene, "She would not compromise."
"You are wrong. Did she not reject your idea to rescue victims of verdant hegemony just all because it involved wandering into a demonic realm and yet she willingly wanted to open a portal when Celerim's life was threatened?"
Arlene's eyes darted to the young queen. She was right. Arlene could slowly recall the incident when Rylonvirah had indeed changed her opinion on issues but had outrightly refused to accept her offered viewpoint.
"But how did you know this?" asked Arlene.
Dellynthelaara ignored the question, and continued. "Did she not always hold strong views against communing with demons? And yet did she not abandon all those views for the warmth of a demon-blooded woman?"
Granted Arlene bore no ill will towards Lyriendriath, and at times even found her company acceptable, but the words of the young queen challenged the integrity of Rylonvirah. Arlene did not say a word, but a nod was all she did to acknowledge Dellynthelaara's assessment of her commander.
"Before the exarch rebellion began, I came up with a plan, a bloodless revolution to change the power structure of the ruling houses and she rejected it. Had she accepted my proposal, she would not have had to exile herself," continued Dellynthelaara, "You would only receive praises from her when you carry out her plan. Have you not taken your own initiative and met with a barely acknowledged response in return?"
Arlene stood still, almost stunned, her mind reeling with what Dellynthelaara said. It struck true. Especially, on how Rylonvirah fawned over the annoying and stupid oaf of Merowyn for bringing the Viridian Dawn Ranger while her Dwarven ShieldMaidens were every bit consummate and fierce fighting force.
The image of Merowyn only served to stoke the embers of rage inside Arlene -- how Rylonvirah even demanded that she stay and entertain him instead of patrolling. How deployed the Viridian Dawn Rangers on the war front while her friends, the Dwarven Shieldmaiden were deemed to chaperone her to scouting a ruined fort.
Dellynthelaara was not one to stop and she pressed on, "You will never reach your full potential as an elven hero as long as she forced you to walk in her shadows."
A chill crept down Arlene's spine. She placed her arrow back in the quiver.
"I come to you offering you a chance, Arlene Sevenleaves of the unerring arrow, " uttered Dellynthelaara. The regality of a monarch's praise flowed in her words.
"And I suppose that involves betrayal for my mother," spat Arlene. Flipping her falling braid over her shoulders, she turned in a swift indignant manner and proceeded to leave.
"Not betrayal," replied Dellynthelaara, "but salvation for mother...from her own stubbornness. Betrayal is when you hurt the ones who trusted you. Mother never trusted anyone. She would have built plans within plans, as you no doubt know by now."
"You can play with words, but you will find it hard to manipulate me," replied Arlene, her voice filled with contempt.
"Then tell me, ranger. How would you slay a beast that is stronger, more powerful, and has endless stamina?" asked Dellynthelaara.
"You wait till it is distracted with prey and you take it down in a single moment with a well-notched arrow."
"Precisely. This is what I offer against the One-Horned Warlord," said Dellynthelaara, voice smooth and steady, like a well-tempered sword. In a sweeping move, she closed the distance. Her hands grasped Arlene's hand holding the bow. "I am not the one you should be drawing those bows against."
Arlene was stunned. The last thing she wanted to hear was to have the young queen of the Dark Elves offer her an alliance.
"Knowing Mother, she would have played defensive, setting concentrated attacks at choke points to bleed the enemy. But she is wrong. There is a simpler and more efficient way to end the conflict." Dellynthelaara paused, to allow the full impact of her words to sink in.
"What simpler means? We are outnumbered by the forces of the One-Horned Warlord by a margin of three hundred to one," said Arlene. Her brow furrowed in a mix of doubt and skepticism.
The uncrowned Queen of the Dark Elves' hands tightened on Arlene's palm, tightening gently -- making an assurance. "Mother would harass them along the way, till they would reach her gates. It is then that she would bring her strongest unit, the one that she held back, into the fray. But that is a farce. A feint. The real threat to the enemy forces is the support fire she has placed suitably around."
Arlene stood in stupefaction. The idea of the young queen of the Dark elves was almost tantamount to suicide.
"Please, help me so that I can help you and Mother, " added Dellynthelaara, her voice soft and filled with a promise, "Open the gate, disable the defenses."
"The hold will be overrun then," denied Arlene. Despite the cool breeze washing through the grove, the half-elven ranger found herself bathed in sweat. "They will slaughter every single one."
"No," corrected Dellynthelaara, "my army of sequestered conciliators would attack from behind. They would be too focused on entering the hold that they would hardly muster a defense before it's too late."
"And what if I refuse? What if I choose to fight to the death?" asked Arlene with feigned confidence.
"Think Arlene." Dellynthelaara stepped closer. Her hands still held Arlene's. "The Hold will fall either way. Mother cannot hope to defend it against such an overwhelming number. The best she hoped was to stall and weaken the enemy. But with my strategy, we have a chance."
Arlene prided herself in her abilities as a ranger, to look a creature in the eye and infer its nature. When she held Dellynthelaara's dark eyes, she saw no signs of predatory nature. And the warm comforting presence that the young queen of the dark elves offered, she wished that Karlienne would have reached out to her in such a manner.
"I am the uncrowned queen of the Dark elves. Their seat of power. With the resources at my disposal, I can rebuild those walls, tenfold reinforced, said Dellynthelaara, "But destroying the One-Horned Warlord and his forces in one fell swoop, would finally force Mother to acknowledge us. We would perform a feat that was impossible for Mother. Impossible for the combined forces of High Elves and Humans. Impossible for the Orcs."
The last of Dellynthelaara's words had a subtle ring of victory.
"It would be suicide," replied Arlene, "Even you cannot guarantee that you will win."
"I will. I did not earn the throne by allowing uncertainties to rule my carefully drafted plans." Dellynthelaara drew Arlene closer. Their foreheads almost met, smoothly brushing. "Please, Arlene. Consider this as a request of a sister. Help me rescue our mother. "
"Fine," said Arlene liberating herself from the shackling chains of trepidation, "I agree."
