First Try

Adventure seldom lives up to its reputation. Fighting great beasts, collecting invaluable treasure, and becoming famous the world over is well and good if you truly have the skills to survive, but when it's all said and done the one thing true heroes must do more than anything is walk. The King is on the other side of the forest. The dark curse originated from the center of the desert. The lost pendant was dropped somewhere along the ocean floor, could you check around there? And most recently: The tyrannical dragon of untold greed and malice is at the very top of the tallest and coldest mountain in the land. Of course to complain too much would be decidedly unheroic – after all, endangering innocent coachmen in hazardous lands just wouldn't do. To this end, Lars and Silias, legendary monster-slayers currently clambering up the side of their thousandth icy ridge, were enduring the travel without much conversation.  

 

The taller of these two companions, a lithe woman wrapped snugly in furs which did little do stop the wind from chilling her mother's magical chain beneath, was the first to break the sullen silence.  

 

“I dislike these mountains.” It was was spoken plainly and without passion, as was the norm with the sharp eyed beauty who spoke it.

 

“A man would be hard pressed to believe you cared one way or another with the way you say it.” The muffled voice that came from beneath a tattered cloak chided her. “How about complaining in a tone different from the one you use when you're telling me you love me?”

 

“Stop speaking nonsense, Lars. I've never told you I love you, and for good reason.” Her tone had stayed completely unflustered. The coolness of his elf companion, noticeable even in these arctic conditions, was beginning to irk him even more than usual. Lars was a man of emotion himself – he had chosen to adventure because a life of bland comfort was not what he craved. Glorious victories, heart-crushing sorrows, this was the stuff of life! His fellow traveler had a decidedly different philosophy. Serenity, balance, and calm. This was the way of the Lanawyn Elves and thus, her way. Just being near her was a constant challenge. But that was the very reason he had chased after her when she gave him a sound trashing at their first meeting - The very contrast in their styles and ways of life meant there was so much to learn from her. The headstrong fighter would never admit it, but every day he spent with the she-elf was a day he grew stronger.

 

“Oh come now, I heard you mumble it out while you were sleeping the other night.”

 

“I do not sleep, I meditate.”

 

“Well you said something about me.”

 

“I was probably reminding myself to stay patient with you.” Her monotone had not shifted at all, but Lars hoped that there was at least a tiny bit of mirth or sarcasm buried behind that comment somewhere.

 

“Well, you obviously love me anyhow. The only women who have managed to stick around me this long all turned out to be desperately head over heels.”

 

“Desperate seems an appropriate word.”

 

“Pff.” Damn. She had gotten the last word. Again. It seemed like Lars could never get on top when it came to the elvish swordmaster.

 

Not unless he cheated, anyhow. Inspiration striking (and boredom at its peak with the constant white landscape and crunch of snow numbing his mind), Lars decided to spice up the ascent with a small practical joke. It would be another day at least before the dragon's lair came into view and the thing was usually asleep according to their intel, so a little horseplay wouldn't jeopardize the mission at this point. Probably.

 

“Ah, damn. Did I get some sort of icicle in my shoe? What is this?” With a theatric grunt, Lars bent down towards his boot while Silias trudged on, never one to wait up or coddle. As expected. Most of his jokes would never work if the elf showed overt concern at what he was doing. As he fiddled with his shoe, Lars kept a careful eye on where his elegant partner was walking. It pissed him off that she didn't even seem to sink into the snow. Her hair probably wasn't even mussed up underneath her pelts. “Well, we'll soon fix that...” Giggling a bit as he pulled the reagent from his hip pouch, Lars thought back to the words for the cantrip he had picked up from a drunken bard. The sliver of flame it would produce wouldn't ever be useful too useful for battle, but with a bit of finesse it was perfectly serviceable for creative fun. And Silias was walking right underneath another large ridge practically creaking under the weight of the snow above. All that was necessary was to get the right timing...

 

He allowed himself one more hushed chortle before firing off his flame towards the heap of snow right above her head. With a startled jump at the sound of hissing flame in the icy air, Silias jumped back towards the ridge with her swords drawn and at the ready for her sudden assailant, but when all she saw was a smiling Lars pointing a smoky finger at her, she dropped her swords disinterestedly.

 

“Just what do you think you're-”

 

The WHUMP sound that cut her off was extremely gratifying.

 

“Hahaha, sorry, sorry!” Quickly galloping through the powder, the attacker began digging in search of his buried victim. “Couldn't help myself. You okay?” He soon brushed up against the hard surface of metal greaves, but they slid away from him and the elf they belonged to emerged from the pile of her own volition a moment later.

 

“You humans stay children until the day you die.” Voice exactly the same as always. But her hood had fallen off and her hair was definitely mussed up. Lars couldn't help but start laughing in earnest again at seeing her long elegant ears rosy red and practically packed up with snow like earplugs. She turned her gaze to him again, emotionless, before whipping the hood back over her face and walking away without another word. Not the reaction he had been hoping for. But he had lifted his own spirits, so he started doing his best to make amends.

 

“Here, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't think so much would fall down. Are you okay?” A funny thing to ask of the woman who had taken a demon's fiery spear through her gut and pulled herself through to slice the beast's heart out, but it just seemed the right thing to do. Still, silence was the only response he received. Time to skip the dance and get her to talk. “Are you mad?”

 

“Of course not. I would be so weak as to get angry over such a petty thing.”

 

“Oh no, of course not. You never get angry.”

 

“I did not say that. I have not achieved such serenity yet.”

 

“Pff. You shouldn't be trying to remove anger from your life. Anger's great! Come on, let's get ugly-”

 

“Enough. If I got angry at you every time you did something petty and foolish like this I would be as weak as you are.”

 

“Oh?” Lars felt his cheeks start to burn. She was pushing his buttons now. “You know, I think that the only thing holding you back is your silly fright of showing how you feel. If you actually let yourself get into it, I'd probably never be able to even touch you. As you are, I can best you any time I feel like fighting dirty.”

 

“I'm not having this conversation again. You're a capable partner and I travel with you because together we can accomplish more than I can alone. But it is your lack of focus and discipline that will always keep you firmly the weaker. The fact that you must stoop to tricks is proof that you fundamentally lack strength.”

 

Her damn voice wouldn't change at all. It was like she was a condescending teacher speaking to an unruly student. “Will you at least try to take the stick out of your ass when we're stuck together on empty mountaintops? I'd like to be able to have a conversation with you that doesn't end with you telling me how pathetic I am.”

 

“Then perhaps you should start trying to be less pathetic.” No hesitation. No change in tone. No emotion. It was like she was simply stating a fact before continuing her walk up the mountain.

 

Gods, it stung.

 

“Yeah, well-” Lars couldn't find anything to say. She had hurt him with her cold way of speaking before, but for some reason, this felt like she had smashed him in his chest with a battering ram. Burying his arms back in his cloak, the embarrassed man sniffed and shook his head in an attempt to let the words roll off his back as he chased after her. “Whatever. Can't talk to you when you're like this.”

 

“I'm the same as ever.”

 

“Yeah, exactly!” He couldn't help but raise his voice. Why was his face so hot?

 

“Don't be such a child.”

 

“Stop calling me a child!” She wouldn't even look at him. Just kept walking.

 

“Then stop acting like one.” Why wouldn't she look at him?

 

“Just because I don't act like a damned warforged doesn't mean I'm a kid!” He wanted her to turn around. Wanted her to stop and face him. Why was he so upset?  Why wouldn't she turn around? He stopped in his place. “Silias, why are you- why aren't you...”

 

“Come, please stop babbling and hurry up. We have no time for these silly games.” Her voice. So pretty, so empty. He wanted to crack it open and see what it was hiding. He needed to. There had to be something, didn't there? Yes, there had to be.

 

There had to be.

 

“Silias!”

 

She wouldn't pause.

 

“Silias, turn around!”

 

Wouldn't even give him a glance.

 

“Silias...” There was burning in the corners of his eyes. What in the hell was the matter with him? What was the matter with her? Was it just this damn mountain or the fact that this scenario had been repeated a hundred times before? Would this truly always be how things were with her?

 

Was she never going to smile at him?

 

“Silias, I hate you.” His face was as hot as ever, but his voice was low. He practically whispered it.

 

Crunch. Her dainty foot sank into the snow. She had stopped walking away. Finally. A reaction. He had managed at least that much. It felt good.

 

“I hate you so much right now and I don't even know why.” He just wanted to hurt her. He'd apologize until his throat was hoarse later if it would help, but he wanted to see her show something. Anything. Prove that she could. “Silias, I've never hated anyone as much as I hate you.”

 

That did it. She was turning around. Lars felt his gut afire with the flames of anticipation and guilt. What would she do? Cry? Scream? Draw her sword and put him in his place with a smirk? It didn't matter as long as it was SOMETHING.

 

But when she turned around, she merely met his eyes coolly. “If that's how you feel, once we defeat this dragon, I suggest we go our separate ways.” Then she turned around again and began to walk.

 

Lars stood stock still until he nearly lost sight of the elf before shaking his head and dumbly jogging after her. What had just happened?

 

Was that really all that she had to say? After the countless battles they had together? After all the memories and fighting and growing, did she really feel nothing?

 

He wanted to ask these things, but couldn't bring himself to. He couldn't bring himself to say anything else. He wanted to fall on his knees and say that he didn't mean a word of it, but his pride, anger, and something else much more painful kept his mouth shut. She was truly a warrior who felt no emotion, or at least no emotion when it came to him. He knew as much, so he had brought this on himself in trying to test her.

 

Still... he had thought she might have shown something. After all, if she had said the same to him he would have been absolutely devastated. He probably wouldn't have even believed her.

 

But he could believe she felt nothing. He had feared it as the likely case in fact. And now he had proved it to be so. And somehow...

 

Somehow this hurt more than any wound he had ever felt.

 

Hours more of walking in silence, Silias at the head and Lars lagging behind, passed in this manner. They even walked on as the sun fell, Silias's darkvision being adequate and Lars simply following the path of thin, cold footprints in front of him. They likely would have continued all night if it was not for the blizzard.

 

It whipped up in an instant, almost supernaturally. Lars suspected it to be the work of the dragon somehow, and yet he found it difficult to worry about the beast. Normally his blood would turn to fire and his adrenaline would rush at the prospect of such a foe being near, but he felt empty and tired. He worried that in his current state he would get himself or Silias killed in the fight, so he called out with a cracking voice over the howl of cutting wind and swirling ice.

 

“Silias! We need shelter!”

 

Wiping the errant flakes from his eyes, Lars scanned his eyes around in search of both his companion and a suitable place to hole up – the latter was discovered first, much to the young warrior's surprise. A cave, sizable enough to house a family of bears but not large enough to be a possible dragon's lair by a long shot, was stumbled on almost immediately. Most likely it was his runed charm of luck he always kept by his heart that had steered him there. He touched it fondly in thanks before calling out once more for Silias to join him. She would not have ventured out of earshot, he knew, she was a professional who kept to the usual system at all times.

 

Still, she was taking her time.

 

“Silias! Over here! I found a cave!” Lars had a booming voice and the elf had amazing hearing – unless she had taken the blizzard as an opportunity to jump off the side of a cliff in secret, there was little doubt she could hear him. But where was she?

 

“Silias!” Was she all right? Even the dragon wouldn't be able to take her on without trouble, and certainly not silently. “Silias!” Fear gripped at Lars's heart for the first time in years. Had his foolish comment somehow encouraged his friend to go ahead and defeat the beast herself? Or was she abandoning him already?

 

Was she okay?

 

“Gods damn it, Silias!” Wrapping his cloak tight around his body again, the man tromped back into the blizzard and prepared for a grueling search – he'd look all night if he had to – but it wasn't three steps out before he nearly smashed his nose into hers. “Silias!”

 

She actually jumped a bit at his cry. Almost seemed surprised. “L-Lars.” He could barely hear her soft voice over the storm.

 

“What in the nine hells- come on, get in the cave, what took you so long?!”

 

“I came when I heard your voice, but I was hesitating. I think I should find another shelter. With your... emotional state towards me right now it might not be best for our mission.”

 

“Don't be daft, just get in here!” The relief was nearly palpable for Lars as he all but pushed Silias out of the howling wind and into the protected darkness. It was only a moment before he had a small,  magical fire crackling away and the cave was confirmed to be without residents.

 

Soon the two were feeling comparatively warm physically, but the silence that filled the air around them made the sound of the blizzard outside seem friendly. Lars had no idea what to say. Even now he felt it difficult to even lay his eyes on his Elvish partner (if he could even still call her that). Somehow it felt painful to look at her. Yet look at her he did, in stolen glances. She had taken off her head coverings and her long mahogany hair was flowing like silk down over her shoulders. Her slender, yet slightly calloused fingertips were held over the heat, clenching and unclenching almost imperceptibly. Her eyes reflected the fire.  

 

She was hauntingly beautiful.

 

He had been impossibly immature, cruel, overtly emotional even for him. And why? To hurt her? He deserved to have it thrown back in his face.

 

“Silias.”

 

“Yes?” The same tone as always.

 

“I don't hate you.”

 

“...” Silias seemed to be thinking intently on this. Or ignoring him completely. One or the other.

 

“I'm sorry. Just like you said. I'm like a little kid.”

 

Silence filled the room again. It was during this quiet that a sudden realization hit Lars. It was incredibly obvious to him when he looked at it from the simple angle, the one he had never dared to let himself consider. Really, it was much more dangerous and painful than hating her could ever be. But Lars was a brave man, and more than a little reckless, so he decided to have it out right then and there.

 

“I actually love you.”

 

“Yes.” The elf was still staring at the fire. “I assumed so.”

 

“...Huh.” Not really what he was expecting to hear her say, but he didn't let it throw him off too much. “What gave me away?”

 

“The way you fight.” Orange flames danced in her eyes. “You would rather lose an arm than leave me vulnerable.”

 

“Just doing that much means love? Covering your ally's back is what everyone does.”

 

“Perhaps, but you never allow yourself to give your attention to the opponent fully when I am not in your sight. In truth, my presence holds you back in most cases.” She lifted her head away from the fire, but still did not turn to face Lars. “It is other things as well. You vie for my attention with constant buffoonery, show anger or jealousy when other men approach me, and almost always get an erection when we spar.”  

 

Lars nearly lost his cool at that, but managed to choke back his sputtering excuses. “I suppose you knew I had feelings for you before I did.”

 

“I have been examining and struggling with emotions for many more years than most humans after all.”

 

“I see.” The obvious next question was one he almost dared not ask. But again, he was a brave man, and not one to shy away from the possibility of being hurt.

 

“So what are you feelings for me, if there are indeed any?”

 

It shocked Lars to hear a sigh coming from the beautiful Elf's lips, she hadn't indulged in such a thing as far back as he could remember. “If I allowed myself to, yes, I would love you fiercely, in the same way I could have allowed myself to weep and cry out in pain when you told me you hated me mere hours ago.” She met his eyes now, rooting him to the spot and freezing his voice – it was as if a gorgon's gaze had fallen upon him. “You have been my greatest temptation and most dangerous foe, not because of your fighting prowess, but because of your attacks on my heart and spirit. Every time you've looked upon me with affection, every touch you've stolen in passing, every word searching for connection, these have all been my tests, my training. I have used you to grow more resistant to my passions and thus, stronger.”

 

She broke the gaze and looked away again. “If I allowed myself to open the gates of my heart, I would no doubt feel immense sorrow at using you this way.” Another sigh. The sound was immeasurably lovely. “I'm sorry, Lars. I truly am. I have been hurting you.”

 

The young man was stunned. He tried to wrap his head around it, but found it simply too alien. “Training by 'enduring' and rejecting your own feelings of love? How does that make you stronger?”

 

“I would need to bring you to my home and show you the ways of our arts for you to fully understand. Command over the heart and mind is the first step towards mastering the body.”

 

“So would you lose your skill as a fighter if you gave in to your emotions?”

 

“No, but I would find it much more difficult to grow and develop further. And alone, I am still not enough to protect the world from those that would see it harmed as I am now.”

 

“Alone?” Like an opening in an enemy's defense, the word jumped out at Lars and he attacked. “Even if one person could grow strong enough alone to protect everyone, if they are alone, what good does that really do? Who are they teaching to protect when they are gone? Who protects them?”

 

Silias smiled furtively and shook her head. “There is too much to explain.” The smile looked so right on her face, even with the melancholy tinge. Lars felt his blood catch on fire. He felt his spirit ignite. He needed to protect this smile before it disappeared.

 

“What if you were not alone? What if I stayed with you? Always? Could you not be content with your strength and open your heart then?”

 

“But Lars, you are a human. Your life is short-”

 

“I'll get a wizard or a God to grant me an Elf's lifespan. It'll be easier than slaying this dragon we're about to kill!”

 

“T-That is ridiculous!” The sputtering in her reply was an obvious tell that Silias was quickly letting her emotion seep through despite herself. Lars smiled as he pushed recklessly forward.

 

“We're heroes. Nothing is ridiculous!” Lars felt everything speeding up and rolled with the momentum as he would with an ogre's club blow. “Silias, we've fought together, traveled together, lived together, and I have a feeling we'll eventually die together. Let's stop competing as individuals and fully give ourselves to each other. I know what strength passion can hold, and it's doubly strong when shared!” The gorgeous elf, the love of his life, was reeling from his poorly paced, overly enthusiastic speech. Where she had spoken logically and thoughtfully, he was speaking poorly, but from the heart.

 

“Silias, I decided that I would marry you the day that I fought you, though it's taken my brain this long to catch up with the idea.” He clasped her quivering hands in his. “I love you and want to be with you forever! So please... open up your heart to me!”

 

Together, the two sat staring into each others' eyes, searching. It suddenly occurred to Lars that this was, indeed, as clumsy and pathetic a proposal as anyone had likely ever made and he began to worry at his poor choice of timing and location. But then, with another sigh that broke into a dazzling smile that took his breath away gave him her answer.

 

“Yeah, okay. Fuck it.”

 

With that, she threw the full weight of her taught, springy body into him and pressed her impossibly soft, incomparably sweet lips to his. It was a sweeter warmth than any Lars had ever felt.