Title: Rescue at Court
Authors: Stana, Spiffy
Date: Thu, 8 Jul 1999 21:50:31 -0700 (PDT)

Stana shoved her chair back from the table, needing to get away from
this crowd. She could care less as to whether she was making a scene.

There was a glimpse of Teri's masked expression, and Estela's surprise
at her move, but suddenly there were other people moving out towards
the outside festivities.

She took a deep breath and turned to go when a hand fell to her arm in
a recalling gesture.

"Lady Stana, it is a pleasure to meet you.  Let me be the first to say
you look simply stunning this evening."

The speaker was a smallish nobleman with the type of oiled, curled
mustache that seemed usually reserved for the villains of old silent
films.  His personality, and even his voice, seemed just as greasy as
his facial hair.  Stana made a few attempts at escaping politely, but
the man gave her no such opportunity - he just kept on crooning, half
about herself and the other Elementals, and half about himself.

Things were just going from bad to worse, until there was another voice
from behind her.

"Peace with you, my lord.  It has been a while since we last crossed
paths - tell me, how go the plans for your marriage?"

Stana turned to see her rescuer, and found herself face to face with an
apparently young woman with white hair and pale skin.  Her long,
pointed  ears distinguished her as something other than human, but the
Earth Elemental still couldn't help but think of Finn when looking at
her.

Perhaps that was because Finn was standing right next to her.

The Lord's face flushed a bright crimson.  It was common knowledge that
he had been trying to marry into a more prestigious family for the past
10 years.  The shock that someone would mention such a topic so calmly
left his mouth working soundlessly while trying to think of some sort
of reply,

"I do not believe we've met formally, Elemental.  I am an Ambassador of
the Syl.  I believe you already know Finn."

"We've met." Stana said blandly, looking at Finn. "Although the last
time was not under favorable circumstances. You're looking comfortable
Finn." She watched the noble scurrying off like a rodent and nodded
thanks to the Elf.

"Appreciate the save, Ambassador. I'm not much for small talk, and
politics interest me less. Finn I want to talk to you-can we go
outside?"

He nodded faintly, as if expecting this from her, and Stana noted that
the ambassador also fell in step with them. Stacey glared for a moment
at her, then ignored her completely.

"We never finished our discussion." she told him "I want to know how
you knew where to find us and how you know about us and Aaron."

"Everything I knew was told me by Aaron - He seems to be able to find
out a lot about what's going on, although there's still stuff he
doesn't know."

There was a note of annoyance in her voice as she asked "How?  How does
he talk to you-and why not one of us?"

Finn shrugged "He tried, I'm sure.  If he could talk to you directly,
do you think he'd've picked a blind man who had to cross half a
continent to catch up with you?"

Stana grudgingly admitted he had a point.

"As to HOW he does it, he uses the world of dreams as a bridge between
your world and mine.  He didn't know why it worked on me and not
others, but lately I've been able to go there on my own, which might
explain it."
::What is it with these white haired dreamers?::

Around them the lights and jests of celebration went on unnoticed.
Stana rounded sharply away from Finn, hands clenched in  frustration.
She felt like she had been doing nothing but banging her head against
one brick wall after another, and not getting any closer to answers.

Her eyes lit on a line of men, who amongst laughter and jeers, were
attempting to hit a target with their bows.

An archery contest? A memory tickled the back of her mind as she
remembered the times she had tried her hand at the bow and arrow. Since
she was 6 years old, and an established tomboy; her dad had adopted her
to be the son he never would have. Fishing, hunting, and especially Bow
hunting were her constant friends.

When he died, the first thing she had done was hang up the archery.
Until very recently she had been considering going back. She never did.

Stana walked over to the group and interrupted as politely as possible.
 The others gaped at her request to try, and a few laughed, thinking it
was a joke. One or two others noted that symbol on her breast, and the
Syl at her side and said nothing.

One man held up a hand and waddled into a nearby wagon. A few moments
later he came out, carrying a wrapped package in his padded arms.

Stana had put on the forearm guard and finger tresses. She turned as
the man presented the armload and unwrapped it for him.

the man presented the armload and unwrapped it for him.

Lying in was the most beautiful bow she had ever laid eyes on. A rose
wood with brass-leaf inlay body, strung with a string of golden color.

She looked into the proud eyes of the owner.

"Made her myself." he said. "She's one from the "Old ones". Its said
that they inhabit the tools made from them-and that their spirits guide
the right person. Try her, she'll not fail you."

Her mixed emotions were swept clear for one moment, and she looked with
simple gratitude to the maker. Then she lifted the bow, ignoring all
the stares, and strode to the target line, lifting an arrow from where
it was stuck into the ground.

Twirling it around neatly she nocked the arrow and sighted down the
narrow edge to the center of the target. She could almost feel the
ghost of her father's arms helping her draw back the weight of the
string.  Then, when all she could hear was the silence of her thoughts,
Stana released the hold.

She forgot to watch the arrow, for the bow had emitted such a
harmonious note at the release that she stood pulsing with it. Sweeter
than the most melodic guitar chord, soaring above the piano or viola,
it was none and all, tuned to a perfect pitch.

She found the maker grinning at her.

"Thought you'd like her song." was all he said, and nodded to the
target. "you pulled to the left Missy."

She noted that it was so. The arrow had flown wide of the center, and
had truck a glancing stroke only.

::Out of practice...:: she thought wistfully, and had not realized
until now that she had expected to find a bullseye  Apparently this
fantasy had limits. At least for her.

She took the next arrow, mounting and drawing in one smooth movement,
her body quivered at perfect attention, and she released again,
attempting to compensate for her previous failure.

There was some sporadic applause as she edged nearer, and the next shot
brought her closer still, the third try bringing the most laughter as
it soared way beyond the mark.

There was some quiet embarrassment as she started to hand the bow back.
 The Maker looked for a moment at the target, then at her.

"Who taught you to shoot Missy?"

"My father did." she answered.

The man looked again, hesitating.

"I could fetch a fair price on the market for this." he finally said in
apology, "enough to feed my family for a month. I could give you a deal
at-"

"I've no money maker." Stana answered.

"One of the ancient trees you say?" The Syl ambassador leaned in for
another look and nodded. "She is old, and set in her ways. You'll not
make a profit off this one, maker, against her will. Name the price."

He did, and she paid without further comment, and turned and handed the
bow to Stana.

The Elemental's eyes clouded with distrust "What makes you believe that
I consider this no less an attempt to use me-as was the attempt of the
noble. What price are YOU charging lady?"

"There is a catch, Elemental." Elainas answered. "You must watch out
for her." She nodded to the bow "She's proud, and old. Elves have
always  had an affinity for the forests, and the earth, and that gives
us
understanding when other's fail to comprehend. She wants you, although
none but another elf would know that.  In any other's hands she will
not sing."

"Why do you keep calling me "Elemental"?." Stana asked tightly.

"Because you are more than just 'Stana.'  We each have
responsibilities to things greater than ourselves.  I call you
'Elemental' for the same reason I am called 'Ambassador' - to keep our
sense of duty ever present."

"That's a nice big chunk of propaganda."

"Is it?"  Stana felt a tinge of embarrassment when she found she'd
forgotten completely that Finn was there.

"The wizard who blinded me linked me with a man who can't talk.  He's
my eyes, and I'm his voice.  While I'm here, he has no voice.  So is it
right for me to care more about my own agenda at his expense?"

"So what are you doing here?"

Finn flinched noticeably at the biting comment.  "I made a bargain with
Aaron - he'll help me if I help him.  I've done my part, and now it's
his turn."