The new cold chains of Ki’Amura’s bond in my head stood out in a different way. Where love and happiness was the foundation of each of my other bonds, giving them a pleasant undertone, Ki’Amura’s bond radiated sadness and pain, making it a cold and depressing ever present beacon in my mind.
I arrived in the kitchen and while noting the strength and direction of my bond to Ki’Amura, I started packing Diamiutar’s cooking into baskets to carry.
The smell was phenomenal. Elven cuisine was amazing. From what I’d seen, elves didn’t have to eat much, and what they did eat they wanted to be as pleasing to the senses as possible. They infused flavors from all sorts of fruits and herbs into everything from breads to meats. Garlic bread looked bland and flavorless next to these dishes.
Finally, I felt Ki’Amura start to move. She got closer, and closer. I stopped to pay attention as I felt her hesitate by the door, but then she continued her approach. I felt her finally settle just outside the door.
I guessed she was listening. Judging.
Lymarith was humming some jaunty little tune. I guessed it was an elven song of some sort, because occasionally Diamiutar joined in for a chorus or a few bars. It reminded me of the celtic music that Buster had loved, said it reminded him of his Irish roots. Could almost be a river dancing song, as lively and bouncy as it was.
Heilantu joined us to help finish packing everything, with Valentrine and Sarvourn stepping in to finish us out. Tavorwen, Creaden and the battle maidens joined as well. Between all of them they could carry all the baskets of food.
Apparently it was beneath me to help carry food.
“You ready to join us?” I called to the she-elf still just outside the door.
She stayed there, between us and the door. I couldn’t tell what exactly she was thinking, and she was quashing her emotions to try and keep them from betraying her.
I was betting if she wasn’t ready, she would have made her escape.
We all headed to the feast, with Ki’Amura falling in a few steps behind me, just ahead of the battle maidens.
We walked out among the rope walkways and hanging streets of Ealphamir. Glances and glares at Ki’Amura were poorly concealed at best. The enemy among them.
“Creadean.” I breathed quietly, having faith in elven hearing.
“Master?” The Matron answered, moving up by my elbow.
“Pick one of your maidens you trust the most. I want you and your chosen maiden to make Ki’Amura’s safety your priority.” I instructed. “I don’t expect any problems, but she is a part of our household, and I’m not going to take any chances.”
Creadean remained quiet for a moment, then acknowledged. “Understood, I’ll take Ulamir.”
We reached the hanging plaza. Cords reached skyward from various support points to the trunks of the trees still rising high above the streets. Tables had been brought from the gods knew where to fill the plaza with matching chairs. The craftsmanship and carpentry of the tables and chairs were graceful, curving and sweeping in a manner that hid any sign of fasteners of any kinds and making the chairs appear immobile, when I knew I had walked through this plaza multiple times since my arrival and they had never been here before.
Audriul greeted us and directed those carrying dishes. Her gaze only lingered on Ki’Amura a moment.
“What possessed you to bring her?” She whispered to me.
I glared at her. I’d never been fond of those showing racial preferences back on earth. I’d had a good third of my squad that weren’t whites, and if anyone said shit, they ate it. The best man for the job got it. I knew that the Shadow Elves had made their mark and everyone acknowledged them as the baddies. Germans back home had done that quite thoroughly a time or two, but serving a tour under Colonel Fred, or”Friedrich”, Braun had put proof to the fact that anyone judging someone of German heritage by their history was an imbecile.
“I don’t know. X’Thallion seemed pretty insistent that I keep her close at all times when we spoke earlier.” I retorted.
She recoiled as if struck. Her eyes narrowed as she studied me, then got wider than I’d seen any elf’s eyes go and she muttered something under her breath. But she hurried off to get out of the situation, repeating instructions to those already doing as she was directing.
“I admire your boldness, but one should not claim lightly to speak with the Gods.” Tavorwen chided. “All of Ealphamir will be claiming you had an audience with the Great Father by the end of the feast.”
I looked over at her in amusement, and raised a brow.
“… wait…” My matron gasped. “… When?”
“When I stepped out to collect my thoughts.” I confirmed with some amusement.
“May we sit?” Tavorwen breathed. “I’d rather not have shaking legs betray me.”
“Go for it… ah, where should we sit?” I noted looking at the long and winding tables.
Tavorwen took my hand and led me to the head of a table and set me there. Diamiutar took her place at my right, and Tavorwen at my left. Ki’Amura was put between Tavorwen and Creadean with the battle maidens extending down the left side of the table. Heilantu, Lymarith, Narusil, and the household maidens sat on the right side with Diamiutar.
The plaza filled with elves. The vast majority were maidens, but for the first time I saw a significant number of matrons, a few masters and even children taking seats at the table. Driveal inclined his head to me, as he sat with his matrons at another table.
A mass of she-elves that looked like teenagers to me began carrying dishes, goblets and utensils to the seated elves. It appeared that there were about a half dozen of these young elves that were serving my house. They were thin, lithe and graceful. There was clear unease as they served Ki’Amura, but to their credit, they did their job.
Once the dinnerware was set, dishes began to be presented. Youths bearing baskets, platters and serving bowls moved along each table, offering their dish to those seated. One elven youth for each table made her way around each table filling goblets from a leather skin of some sort, pouring what looked like wine into the vessels. The coloration was a deep red, almost purple, and when my goblet was filled I found it to taste strong, a single sip filling my mouth with the sweet and tangy flavor.
“Do you not have wine?” I wondered, surprised at the absence of alcohol. Nothing had been alcoholic anywhere I had seen.
Diamiutar cringed, “Why would anyone drink a fouled drink?”
The other elves had a similar reaction. Confusion and disgust. Even Ki’Amura seemed confused why I’d want wine.
I guess elves didn’t appreciate alcohol. I was kinda disappointed. While I wasn’t a heavy drinker, a nice drink once and a while to relax was nice.
I resigned myself to sobriety, and enjoyed the food.
Once the serving youths had filled everyone else’s dishes, they took their places at a nearby table and partook themselves. Several of the youths kept watch, excusing themselves regularly to refill drinks, and in my case to bring additional servings.
None of the other elves seemed to take nearly the variety I did, and none seemed bothered by the tiny serving sizes. I realized I hadn’t really paid attention during meal times to how much my matrons really ate, but now it became evident that their comments about how much I ate really came from somewhere genuine. Despite the quality of the food and variety, the elves seemed to pick their favorites, savoring and enjoying small quantities and quickly becoming satisfied and unable to continue. I felt bad for a minute until Diamiutar chided me.
“You should eat! Enjoy! Many elves went above and beyond in the hopes you would enjoy their dishes, it would be a shame to disappoint them.” She prodded with a laugh. “And it is not so strange to us that your needs differ from ours. You are a gift to our people and we are happy to provide you all we may.”
My discomfort was soothed with that and I tried to enjoy the festivities.
Everyone ate and sang and generally enjoyed themselves… except Ki’Amura. She ate with a somber, almost angry expression. Through our bond I could feel a jumble of emotions slipping her tight reins. Confusion, anger, pleasure, worry, sadness, and… hope?… swung rapidly in her mind.
I knew I needed to give her time, and what privacy I could, but I dearly wanted to help her. The slivers of her pain, fear and confusion only intensified that need every real man feels to protect the women he cares for.
I realized I had only known her for a short time, but having her thrust into my care felt like a new head added to my platoon. She felt like she belonged here, and the endorsement of the elven god hadn’t hurt either.
Once the food had been consumed, instruments were brought out and music filled the air. A few of the masters danced with their matrons, while maidens danced in small groups. The music had a fast lively beat, but the elves danced slowly and gracefully. The master, or a maiden standing in for a master, danced at the center, bringing partner after partner into the center of the sweeping circle so all had their moment in the center.
“Come and dance!” Heilantu begged.
I had never been much of a dancer, but the excitement and joy slipping through the bonds to my matrons was infectious.
I allowed Heilantu to guide me away from the tables, the rest of my matrons and even the maidens who had joined my house took a circle around me.
“Now, one hand here,” Heilantu guided me, putting my hand so low on her back I was practically grabbing her ass, “and the other…” she took that hand and began to guide me.