Chapter 6 #2
It seems he did trust her. If he didn’t, they wouldn’t be in this odd alliance they were in now.
He was an assassin and had just killed her high priestess—killing was second nature for him—yet he had spared her life twice when common sense really should have warned him against it.
And she was a soldier, though not a murderer, and had spared his life back on that cliff.
Mindless killing to make her feel better in the moment was a simple-minded approach … and would have gotten her no closer to her goal.
But was that what she had been feeling when his life hung in her grasp, yet her blade rested?
He’d just saved her life. In that life-or-death moment, she had felt something … like she owed him a chance, or maybe even … gratitude.
She lingered on this thought, though it brought much discomfort.
After the Dark Elf finished his meal, he glanced over at her. She’d been staring at him, lost in thought. “Don’t see many Dark Elves?” he asked, and this broke her concentration.
“Oh.” She shook her head and looked away from him. “No…”
“Or is it just me you find interesting?”
How conceited of him. “No. I mean, yes.”
“Yes?” he questioned, his voice rising in what she could guess was anything between delight, confusion, or derision. He was a hard one to figure out .
“I mean,” she stated, trying to cover her embarrassment by speaking louder. “I have seen other Dark Elves. And Wood Elves.”
“You have now?” He didn’t seem that interested in hearing more.
“In the temple,” she continued, nonetheless.
“Lindana … I mean, the high priestess set up a wing as a temporary haven for Wood Elves escaping the war, and sometimes Dark Elf deserters too. She would take them in and give them a place to stay and food to eat until she could find them work within the city and help them adjust to Light Elf ways and culture. She was kind in a world where such kindness is rare.”
He scoffed. “Is that what you believe?”
She glared back at him. “Of course I do! Any elf with decency and honor would believe the same.”
“Decency and honor,” he spat out as if the words meant nothing to him.
“Well,” she countered, intentionally lacing her words with venom, “you wouldn’t know. You’re nothing but an assassin, taking payment for killing other elves. What decency and honor are there in that?”
“Sometimes orcs, too. And that is an honor itself. Orcs are notoriously hard to kill.” He was being facetious and chuckled at his apparent joke.
“Killing the high priestess must have given you a good laugh, then.” Her calf muscle twitched, and the metal of the dagger placed in her boot pressed against her skin. The insolence of this Dokkálfar.
He frowned, and it changed his face and temperament. “No. I took no joy in that. What happened back at the temple was strictly business. I promise you.”
“Then … why?” It was pointless to ask, but a part of her still needed an answer, even if the answer was clear, resolute in its simplicity and brutality.
He gave her a strange look. Strange because she couldn’t place it. It wasn’t regret or sadness, but something similar, or maybe the look didn’t have a meaning at all, and she just wanted to place meaning onto it to make sense of all this.
She turned from him abruptly, unable to stand the sight of him right now.
His eyes were on her back as he said, “It is as you say, such kindness without expectation is rare, yet so rare that such a thing does not exist. Your precious high priestess had her motives in helping Dark Elf and Wood Elf. No elf, no matter who, acts on kindness alone.”
She slowly turned back to him, wanting to see the look on his face as the words came out of her mouth. “You wouldn’t know of kindness, Dokkálfar. You lack the ability.”
His eyes darkened. Maybe she crossed a line. But, then again, she didn’t care if his feelings were hurt.
“Then I should’ve pushed you off when you foolishly grabbed onto me and followed me all the way down here, into my world, or maybe I should have killed you in the temple before you even noticed I was there.
The guards wouldn’t have given me chase then, and I wouldn’t have to put up with this rubbish, your na?ve outlook on life. ”
He was using the same voice he’d used when he threatened the other temple guards while holding a dagger to her throat.
She gulped; her hand itched for her dagger. Pushing him further would be unwise.
“So, spare me your Ljósálfar morals on what kindness is the right kindness,” he spat out as a conclusion .
Wait a moment. He’d given himself away. “You said no elf acts on kindness alone, yet you chose not to kill me, and you call that a kindness. What self-interest of yours lies there?”
He smirked.
Was he having fun being called out like this?
“Perhaps I did have my reasons. It’s too bad you will never get to know them, or will you?” His voice changed. To her relief, he sounded flirtatious again. Even though it grated on her nerves, she preferred it to the voice he’d used while threatening to “slice her pretty little throat.”
His question was an invitation. But she wasn’t falling for it. She knew she had to get him to trust her for her plan to work—to have him face justice. But she wasn’t ready for that. She wasn’t ready to swallow her disgust and play pretend with him just yet.
“The less I know about you, the better.” She folded her arms. They sat in silence for a long while.
Exhaustion clawed at the front of her head, causing her to close her eyes and blink them back open quickly.
It must be nighttime on the surface world by the way her body expected sleep at this hour.
She went to grab the dagger from her boot and glanced over at him, not wanting to fall asleep while he was still awake.
But his eyes were shut. She stared at him, waiting for his front to fall, but the exhaustion of the day took hold of her, and she soon drifted off.