Part II

The next morning, she awakens with a stretch and a yawn. She stares blearily at the ceiling of her tent, trying to figure out what seems so strange about this dawn.

Huh...I coulda sworn there was someone else here with me last night.

Her brows furrow.

Feels like I was crying...hn...remember...a man...dark hair...

Her chest tightens as she gets ready for her day of hiking and hunting.

...Klork...? ...nah...he's on the other coast...anyway...something about green eyes...

She takes stock of her body as she pulls on her pack, shaking her head slightly. She gazes up at the painted dawn as she starts along the path again.

Oh well...I'm not hurt...I guess I'll remember with time.

Through the morning and afternoon, she hikes up the mountain, letting nature calm her mind and spirit. Early evening brings clouds to the sky and sudden, biting winds armed with snow.

Agh...I knew the weather was unstable up here, but damn...

The stinging wind throws her into the snow. A yelp tears itself from her throat when something snaps painfully closed over her arm.

A...bear trap...

Franticly, she searches for the release with her left hand.

"Where is it...?!? AGH! WHERE IS IT?!?"

Finally, the thing releases her now bloodied arm. She stumbles back, cradling her injured arm close to her chest. The world is stained blood red and snow white. Storm raging, she struggles to find shelter, face twisted with pain that drives all rational thought from her mind.

Wrestling the wind, she fights her way to her feet. Step by agonizing step, she trudges into the dancing lights before her eyes. Ice blue eyes lock onto something in the distance. She whimpers when she finds she can't focus. Blood flies from yearning fingertips. On hands and knees, she creeps towards her goal.

"No..." She moans as her body gives out; white turns black; blood stains snow red.

"Hn..." Slowly, rafters come into focus. "Oh..." Her throat burns. "Where am I....?"

She turns her aching head to look around the room. By the bed lay her neatly folded clothing and her pack. A fire burns cheerfully in the hearth and Quinlan sits asleep at the table pushed up against the wall opposite the bed, as fluffy flakes of snow drift silently down outside the window.

...oh yeah...he was the guy in my tent last night...

She pushes herself up, surprised to find herself clad in nothing more than a thin silk tunic and a bandage wrapped around her mangled forearm. The forceful wave of dizziness shoves her back into the pillows with a soft gasp.

...man...what's this guy all about? One hell of a big coincidence that I find myself here after that bear trap incident...

Quinlan yawns and straitens up, smiling when he sees her awake. "HLM...good to see you finally awake."

She blinks a little. "Uhm...good to see you, too?" Her brows furrow slightly. "Where are we...? How long have I been out?"

He pulls a chair to her bedside. He takes her hand and gently unwraps her forearm as he sits by her. "We're in my cabin; you've been asleep all night and all day."

She blinks, brows furrowing lightly at the puffy redness around the wound. "...aw man..."

He nods slightly as he applies a stinging paste of some kind to it. "This will help bring the infection down. Can you move your fingers?"

She wiggles her fingers with a wince. "Hurts, though."

He nods. "I'd be worried if it didn't. You have quite a lot of damage there. It should heal up well enough, though."

She sighs a little and closes her eyes at the sudden wave of vertigo washing over her. "So, tell me about yourself."

He shrugs a little. "What would be interesting about a humble man such as myself?"

She smirks. "Now I know you've got some kinda story tucked away in that pointy eared head of yours. C'mon now, you've heard my story already." She gives him a solemn look, drawing an "X" over her heart. "Cross my heart, I promise not to run away screaming."

He smirks wryly. "You can't even sit up without getting dizzy."

"Oh sure, take the wind out of my sails, why don'tcha."

He chuckles. "Alright, alright." The fresh bandage tied off, her reaches over to brush a few stray curls from her brow. "How can I resist you?"

She blinks and shrinks back, eyes wide. "Uh...! I...uhm..."

He cringes. "I won't hurt you. It's alright..."

After eyeing him for a few moments, she nods and relaxes exhaustedly into the pillows again.

"I apologize for frightening you, HLM."

She nods with a sheepish grin. "'Sokay." She chuckles weakly and winks. "Tell me your story an' it'll be all better."

He chuckles and begins. "Many, many years ago, many races walked the earth. Chief among them were the elven and human kinds. They lived in peace for the most part, until humans discovered a metal deadly to the elven. We were forced to find another place to live or die at the hands at the now power-mad humans. This place was made of our magics well over four-thousand human years ago, and named Underhill."

"I was born about two-hundred-fifty years ago in the area of Underhill settled parallel to Italy to an Irish father and Italian mother, both obviously elven." He winks at her dumbfounded look with a grin. "I grew up there with my family before deciding to explore both the elven and human worlds. Needless to say, my family wasn't very happy with that decision."

"Mama's boy?" HLM asks  with a smirk.

He laughs. "Only partly. Children are very rare amongst our people and I was still a boy by their standards; one-hundred-sixty years of age. The equivalent of a human sixteen-year old. Eventually, I was able to convince them to allow that to be my right of passage from boyhood to manhood instead of the more traditional Hunt." He shakes his head at her curious look. "Perhaps I will tell you more about it when you are well. Anyway, I have fifty years left to explore the human world before I must return home."

She nods slowly, thinking this over. "Geeze...so...that's what you meant by 'finding yourself', then?"

He shakes his head. "Not quite."

She blinks. "Oh?"

He nods, smiling mysteriously as he reaches over to draw a cool cloth over her feverish brow, then pat the perspiration from her neck and chest gently away.

Her brows furrow as she reaches up to take his hand in hers. "What then?"

He looks into her eyes and brushes hair from her brow. "Let me get you some tea to help you rest."

Biting her lip lightly, she watches him go about making the tea. "Quinlan? What's wrong?"

He returns with her tea and wedding band. "Here, I had to take this from you when I was treating your wound. Your entire hand was swelling up pretty badly."

She sighs shakily, examining the ring held with her fingertips. When she speaks next, her voice is quiet and trembling, tears in her eyes. "That was low of you, and you know it." None the less, she slips the ring back on.

Heh...symbolization of my union with a dead man...a heart torn in two...injured by the shrapnel of love...geeze, Moron...when'd you get so sappy?

She watches the wiry man gaze at her as she sips the bitter tea he gave her.

You're hiding something from me, mystery man...what is it and why won't you tell me what it is? Gads...don't you dare tell me your in love with me either...I don't need more guilt on top of it all...

"I don't know," he finally murmurs. "Little warrior, I have a story for you. A story of thievery; a story of seeking; a story of hidden fatherhood; a story whose outcome lies fully upon your shoulders."

She blinks at him, locking her eyes on his. "...why me...?"

He smiles softly, sadness flickering in his slit-pupiled eyes. "Listen and all will come to light."

She nods a little, brows furrowed. "Ait..."

"Twenty-two or so years ago, a strange man traveled through a strange land. There were those within this land who wanted nothing more than to get their hands on this man in order to see how he was made and why he was the way he was. This man had been traveling for close to seventy years, and he got sloppy." Quinlan bows his head, smiling faintly when she comfortingly takes his hand. "Aye, he was captured. He was tortured, and his life blood was stolen. Escape is always possible if one knows how to use even a little of the impossible, he left with his life, but lacking the knowledge of the child created with his blood."

She stares at him as she listens.

"As the years passed, he moved around the world. There was a horrible earthquake that wracked the island nation he was visiting one year. In the midst of the chaos, a young girl dashed by him, leaving him reeling at the pull she exerted on him." He pins her with his gaze. "She was seventeen, maybe eighteen, with beautiful two-tone hair and piercing green on black eyes."

"My gods," she whispers.

He nods quietly. "Not long ago, the scrying crystal told him to visit a chain of ancient, dead volcanoes on the east coast of a new land and take up residence there. The child of his blood, and of others, would go there to heal from a wound dealt her soul." He settles on the bed by her. "And she would need the help of her father hailing from Underhill."

She nods slowly, resting against him quietly, looking up at him with wide eyes, speechless.

He kisses her brow lightly. "You are worn, though. Sleep...I will tell you the rest when next you awaken."

She nods quietly as her lids close and sleep overtakes her.

Part I
Part III
Otherworldly Comforts Index