Aeran and Dorian

This lasted for about three seconds before Aeran's friend (her single actual friend) Dorian, tracked mud through the door.

"Dorian!" shrieked Aeran, watching her hard work vanish beneath the boots of her friend.

Dorian looked down, then swore, jumping back into the doorway. "I'm sorry, Aeran," he appologized quickly, shaking mud off his boots and out the door.

Dorian was a polite young half-elf of twenty. He had brown hair and brown, honest eyes and stubble on his chin. He was tall, and lean and had been training to be a hunter since he was twelve.

Aeran on the other hand was a prissy nineteen-year-old half-elf often classified as a drama-queen. She was average in height but incredibly thin and well-endowed. She also had blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. She'd been a servant since she could walk and hold a sponge.

Dorian shook his boots again, "I'm really sorry..."

Aeran smiled, picking up her sponge and bucket, "It's okay, Dorian." It's always okay, Dorain. Aeran walked over to the muddy floor. "It's only a few splatters of mud."

Dorian set his bow against the wall and crouched down beside Aeran, "Let me help--"

Dorian!" came the booming voice of Dorian's father.

Aeran just caught the small sigh and glance towards the Heavens before Dorian stood and faced his father. "Yes, father?"

Dorian's father, Atren, was a tall, barrel chested hulk of a knight just recently turned forty. Dorian was the result of his father's brief affair with an elf in his youth. All of Dorian's eight brothers and sisters were fully human and from the same woman Atren had married when he was eighteen. "Stop flirting with the servant-girls and find yourself a woman to settle down with! When I was your age I was already married with a son."

Dorian grit his teeth and nodded, "Yes father," he replied, as obediently as he could.

Aeran got the feeling that this was an old arguement, but it was the first she'd been present for. Atren stepped into the hall and Aerah winced at the great dollops of mud that splattered all over the floor. "Now, come along, I've some girls I'd like you to meet." Alten took two steps before Dorian grabbed his arm.

"Father, your boots--"

Alten shrugged his arm from his son's grip, "That's what servants are for, Dorian." Then he shook his head, "Where did I go wrong with you, boy? Even your younger brother's planning his wedding and you don't even have a girlfriend!"

Alten's voice faded out as he exited the hall, Dorian following after him. Just before he left Dorian shot Aeran an appologetic smile over his shoulder.

Aeran smiled back at the empty door for a moment before sighing and starting to clean up the mud.

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