“Aaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrgh!”

The dummy was nearly shaken out of the ground by the next wild blow; sand sliding down the length of it like gritty blood of yellow. The wielder of the scythe was almost red in the face from the chaotic swings she was dealing out, her usually pale skin now a near match to the tied-up knot of red hair held at the back of her head. She was clad in a flowing white robe that covered her and made her movements agile and free, displaying her slender form to perfection.

Unknown to Ar’thilmus, all of this was being observed by a particularly interested moon elf, stood casually against the tree just a few paces from her. The moon elf’s pale golden eyes flashed briefly as he watched the woman brutalize the training dummy with her enormous weapon. Di’thang was impressed. Rarely had he seen such blows even from a man twice the elf lady’s size, and yet now here she was, swinging the blade at the dummy as though it were her last hope for survival. But something even more astounding than this caught Di’thang’s eye. The woman’s stomach was rounded in an unusual way, looking quite uncomfortable beneath the white robes she wore. This lady, he realized, must be pregnant, and yet this seemed not to hinder her in the slightest. A rare occasion in Di’thang’s life; curiosity got the better of him. He approached the elven woman with caution, half-worried she might swing the scythe on him if she were startled. Within two feet of the lady, Di’thang spoke out over the din of her strikes in his usual monotonic drone.

“What is it that makes you swing with such fury? Something is wrong, milady?”

Ar’thilmus ceased her swings, panting softly to catch her breath and turned to look at the stranger that had addressed her. Resting her scythe back against her shoulder she smiled at him. Just a single smile and the thought struck him like a bullet; he could not remember the day he had seen anyone so beautiful. As suddenly as the thought had come to him, Di’thang’s mind had pushed it aside, distracted now by the reply that came from Ar’thilmus’ full lips.

“Only the hormones…”

A casual glance down bid his eyes to look to the rounded stomach showing beneath the robes. A smirk crept up his lips and he nodded, his eyes remaining on the stomach as he spoke something that was not quite the truth.

“Of course. How foolish of us not to realize.” She smiled at him and lifted her eyes and his followed, meeting hers. Her eyes were strikingly golden, and dark in contrast to his own. “If you mind our asking, how far along are you?”

Her eyes, he noticed, never left his and he felt compelled to keep the eye contact so as not to give any impressions; right or wrong as they might be.

“Just a few months, still some time to go.”

Di’thang let his head tilt on one side as he stepped closer to the slender elven lady, his eyes daring a glance now down her breath-taking form.

“And what of its father?”

“It doesn’t have one.”

Di’thang nodded politely to calm the warning in her eyes that she seemed to have given him upon mention of a father. He managed to keep the smile from his lips, yet he could not ignore the voice in the back of his mind. He had learnt by now not to ignore it. It was he, his conscience; the part of his mind that helped him stay alive. An unborn child, so weak and impressionable. An unborn child with a mind so fresh it knows not the difference between right and wrong. An unborn child that would do as its betters demand. The child could serve us well. Take the child.

Di’thang nodded his head and the voice in his mind willingly silenced. He found himself again lost in the eyes of this woman as she stared at him quietly, likely awaiting a response from the moon elf. A moment passed without him giving her the reply she desired. There was something of a glint in her eyes that he caught that told him of the weariness she felt. A past. A pain.

“We appreciate that. We all have stories we prefer not to share.”

She nodded in agreement, and gave him the same smile that had greeted him. He bit down on his lip. So beautiful. Hauntingly. What is it about her? She is pregnant with a child. For the taking.

His hand took a firm hold of the bottom of the shirt and he lifted it from the waist to reveal her rounded stomach; it contained the baby. He brought his free hand to drag his fingers across the tight skin, and he felt his breath catch in his throat; so did she… her hand pushed his away and she abruptly pulled down her robes. He could see the surprise in her eyes as she gaped at him.

“What are you doing!?”

The corner of his lips curled up and he let his hands hang limply at his sides now, his fingers brushing together in a subconscious fidget.

“We were just admiring the child.”

His lips curled into a silky smile and both elves were now silent. She stared at him and he stared back, but it was her that broke the tense stare to look up to the night sky. He did not raise his eyes, but simply watched her. He noted silently her fingers rapping the scythe handle in her hands nervously, and he gave a soft smirk to himself. She seemed not to notice though, her eyes transfixed purposely on the sky above them both.

“The stars shine brightly tonight… calm and relaxed, unlike me. I’ll never understand pregnancy.”

She lowered her eyes slowly, as though feeling his boring into her. He was still smiling faintly at her words and for the first time she averted her eyes from his intense stare.

“You are tense now but you will be relaxed soon. You resent the pregnancy now, but will you resent it when the child is born?”

She smiled slightly at his reassuring words and shook her head, knowing his question was rhetorical and required no answer. Again she caught his eyes, a gentle, testing smirk crossing her lips.

“…I might.”

“You won’t…”
Ar’thilmus arched a brow to his words; they carried such certainness, almost like a command. His smooth elven face was almost expressionless, only the teasing sparkles in his eyes portraying his amusement. “We know you will love that child despite everything and anything.”

Di’thang watched as she nodded in response to him. There was something about her that told him she agreed with him, but would never openly admit it. He could see the curiosity and the intrigue in her eyes and on her face as she quickly changed the subject to a genuine wonder that had been playing over in her mind the more he spoke.

“Why do you speak like that?”

He seemed almost to roll his eyes to the question; he had been asked it so many times before, and the answer rarely varied, even for her.

“We speak as one… two minds in a single body. Pay no heed to how we speak, but rather what we speak, milady.”

Di’thang’s words left Ar’thilmus even more curious now than she had been before asking. Shuffling the scythe idly against her shoulder, the beautiful elf flashed him a half-smile and bit her bottom lip, her head cocking naturally on a side.

“What are you?”

He chuckled softly at the abrupt query, and before she could realize to stop him his fingers were dancing along the smooth skin on her cheek. For a moment she almost tilted her face into his touch, but he stepped away from her, turning his back.

“We are what we are.”

Ar’thilmus blinked as she watched the moon elf walk away from her, leaving the ‘dummy patch’ in the direction of the general store. He could feel her staring after him and he smiled softly. He could not get her image out of his head, yet no longer did his eyes hold the privilege of beholding her. We can use her. She could be most advantageous to us. We won’t. We will not use her. She has a child. An impressionable child. And it is hers and hers forever.

Only when he heard her shout, her voice a soft calling on the night breeze did Di’thang realize she had followed him… it was not over. It was just beginning.

“Wait!”