Daydreams and Night Songs: Emiliana Blackwell

[FoogooFish]

She was falling.

She was falling, but she was not dreaming. No, she was not dreaming - a flurry of spidery words and a flash of arcane energy had placed her in the air, and nothing was below her except jagged rocks and unforgiving waters. Within moments, she would plunge to her death. Life as she knew it would end, and she had precious few moments left to remember it.

*

She was five years old, and it was her birthday. Her long golden hair was curled, and sky blue bows and ribbons were skillfully woven into the flaxen locks. She laughed and played with the other children, and the performing troupe that her parents had hired to entertain the youngsters had completely captivated her. She watched and listened, entranced, as the bards acted and played their instruments, and she knew then that she had to be just like them. A bat of her long lashes and a girlish giggle parted the lead bard from his mandolin, and Emiliana begged and pleaded with her parents until they agreed to let her take music lessons.

She was nine years old, and she and her parents were traveling through Sembia and Cormyr. Her father was attending some large (and utterly boring, to her) banquet honoring decorated soldiers throughout Faerūn, and Suzail had been chosen as the meeting place. The bright, vivid regalia of the Purple Dragon Knights amazed Emiliana, but the famed musical college fascinated her even more. She performed for a small but impressive crowd, and the praise she received for her talents helped stoke her developing ego.

She was thirteen years old, and she and her father had the first of their many, many arguments. Matthias Blackwell felt that it was time for his daughter to abandon her childish pursuits (such as music,) and a rebellious Emiliana vowed to break the Blackwell tradition. Never would she be a soldier, she defiantly told the respected Waterdhavian leader, and thus started the rift between father and daughter.

She was fifteen years old, and she had blossomed into an attractive young woman. The sons of soldiers, the sons of peasants, and the sons of noblemen all began looking at her in the way that men look at women, and the stern, disapproving eye of her father only served to intensify the flirtatiousness Emiliana employed with the many 'boyfriends' she accumulated.

She was seventeen years old, and her father wanted her to marry. The lad was handsome enough, and he came from a good family - a very good family. The union would benefit the military and the political leaders of Waterdeep; Emiliana would become a noblewoman, and her family would gain even more respect and prestige. There was just one teeny, tiny problem - she did not love him (whatever was his name.) She refused the proposal, and her father threatened to disown her.

She was seventeen years old, and she received a letter from her dark-haired cousin, Lysandra. "Sundren," it said, "holds great potential. Come and visit me." Emiliana begged to leave; Matthias Blackwell wanted nothing more than for his unruly daughter to give him a few days of peace and quiet. As soon as she turned eighteen, he would permit her to travel - as long as she took her older brother, Darius, as an escort.

She was eighteen years old, and she arrived in Sundren Valley.

*

A hand clutched at the billowing folds of the pristine Legion cloak clasped around her neck, but Olivia Blackwell's hand could not find purchase upon the thick fabric. Emiliana's own gauntlet-clad hands frantically clawed at the rocks as she attempted to prevent her impending doom, but the smooth, ocean-washed surfaces did not allow the feeble grasps of a young Legionnaire who had just magically traded places with an innocent child. Emiliana's breath caught in her throat; this would be how she died. She accepted the finality of what would happen, but rapid, disjointed images flashed through her mind.

William Shepard - laughing at her for stopping to smell the flowers at the pond by the Legion barracks.

Marcus Helevorn - surrounded by a cloud of green smoke.

Lysandra Blackwell - dressed in a too-short black dress at Jimmy's Dice Den for the one and only Fight Night.

Erik Halfgar - explaining to her the merits of "Fizzy Drink."

Ulrich Lecuyer - proposing to her upon the bridge near the LaCroix Manor.

Johanna Patson - erroneously betting that she could not win a word game.

Kyle Rendell - taking her to Aquor and buying her a Candle of Dreams.

She was hurtling towards the ground; there was no time left.

Dain. Darius. Mortannis. Daniel. Olivia.
Dain.
Mortannis.
Dain.
Mortannis.
Dain.
Dain.
Dain.
...Dain.
(Dain. It was always Dain, was it not?)
(...)
(Yes. It was always Dain. Damn it. Maybe because he reminded me so much of my father.)
(Ah well.)

Emiliana squeezed her eyes shut. She could hear the last thuds of her heartbeat echoing in her ears.

Swoosh.

(...?)

THUD.

She was on the ground, but she was not in the place she expected. She was near Olivia; she was near the child with whom she had just traded places. She thought she saw the glimmer of metallic bronze wings.

She was not dead.

By the Gods - this changes everything.



(...does it?)

[FoogooFish]

They were sitting in a cozy corner booth, and Emiliana was hardly focused upon her lunch. In truth, she was focused upon the young man sitting close to her. His otherwise plain, nondescript features were offset by a beautiful pair of stormy gray eyes, and the Legionnaire found herself wanting to get lost in those fathomless depths. Instead, she brought a cup of tea to her lips and tried to organize her chaotic thoughts before she spoke again. "I know we said that we would not rush to define anything, but I do admit that I look forward to the time we spend together."

Here she was, yet again, poised to discuss a possible future with someone. She had learned her lesson, though. She would not excitedly profess her affections. She would subdue her passion. She would prepare herself for the eventual rejection.

They exchanged words about his past and the effect it would have on her future before he finally uttered the words she had been wanting to hear. "I enjoy spending time with you, and I... well, I do. Enjoy it," he stammered in a somewhat oddly flustered manner. Her faint nod of understanding belied her excitement; her hands tightened around the teacup so that he would not see them tremble. "And I'd try my best to never force you into a compromising situation. But I won't ask you to go out on a limb for me. Not because I doubt myself, but because I do not think I could... well, I don't think I could stand to consider the possibility of otherwise."

Blue eyes lifted towards gray ones, and Emiliana seemed to be searching for something as she spoke. "What do you mean?"

A fierce, hawk-like stare met her own searching expression. "Emiliana, I value you. More than gold, more than jewels, more than my - " He briefly paused. " - well, most things." He leaned forward then, and his voice dropped to a quiet, husky whisper. "I honestly cannot express in words the depth of my affection. And I don't want that damaged either by my profession, or my past. I don't want you damaged."

Her visage softened at the heartfelt words, and she murmured in return. "I want to continue seeing you, because I feel content whenever you are near me, and I find myself wondering what you are doing and if you are alright while doing it. I am a ranking Legion officer, though. I may very well be a Centurio before too long - provided recent events with balors and upset noblemen do not prevent my advancement. The man who stands by my side... will be known. I will do what I can to shield you from over-zealous scrutiny, but people will talk."

"I can avoid talk, if need be," he replied as his neutral, half-amused expression returned.

She smiled, but there was a seriousness to the gesture. "I need reassurance that... if we define what has thus far been undefined... you will be able to weather what happens next."

Daniel set his mug of ale upon the table, and his expression flickered as he rose from the booth.

"Think about it?" she said while gathering her gauntlets and refitting them upon her slender hands. Moments later, she was on her feet as well.

He slowly nodded. "I shall."

She stepped closer to him, and then she leaned up with the intention of kissing his cheek. His hands caught her by the waist, though, and soon her lips were redirected to his own lips. A slow, simmering, smoldering kiss - one full of promise and hope, Emiliana thought - was exchanged, and then a few playful, teasing words were spoken between them before she left the tavern.

* * * * *

It had been well over a month since she had seen the gray-eyed man; it had been well over a month since she had posed her question to him and then kissed him. He looked different. He looked vulnerable. Something was wrong.

The smile upon his face was wry and thin. "Good to see you, officer," he greeted once they were alone. The elf she needed to escort to Sundren City would soon return, and both Emiliana and Daniel knew that they only had a few moments to speak uninterrupted.

Emiliana wasted no time. "What happened?"

"With what? You'll have to be more specific. Breakfast? Dinner?"

"You," she replied as she motioned a hand towards his pale complexion. "You look pained."

"Ah, well." He grimaced now that the elf had left. "That's a complicated story."

"I can imagine," she said. "I would suggest we have lunch to discuss it, but I think our last lunch... well," she said before weakly shrugging. Their last lunch was the one where they kissed, and then like so many others in her life, he had since avoided her like the plague. "I hope you feel better soon."

He eyed her. "Yeah, thanks."

Her voice lifted in song as she intoned the protective wards she always used when traveling throughout the Valley. Despite her best efforts, she could not prevent the faint touch of melancholy from invading her melodies. Daniel slumped where he was sitting and listlessly watched the nearby crackling fire. When Emiliana finished her wards, she fussed with her uniform and restlessly fidgeted until she abruptly blurted out the question she had been wanting answered since the last time she saw him. "Just so we are clear... the lack of an answer... was the answer. Correct?"

"The lack of an answer was what it was," he woodenly replied. "It wasn't something I could answer for you then, and it isn't now," he continued while struggling to his feet.

Emiliana felt the all-too-familiar pang of rejection stab at her heart, but she had already prepared herself for this moment. Her voice barely cracked. "I will be leaving as soon as the elf returns," she told him while holding up a hand to stay his progress. "There is no need for you to leave in your condition. I can wait down the path a ways if you prefer."

Daniel had closed his eyes. "...ten," he muttered, breathing out. His eyes reopened. "No, it's fine. I need to go."

"Fine," Emiliana curtly said. "Be safe."

"Look, Emiliana...." He began before he paused.

"...I am used to it, Daniel," she replied while shaking her head. "Spare me the explanation. I have heard them enough."

"That's not it!" Anger flashed across the face of the otherwise calm, collected man. "Look, you need to be careful - and keep a weather eye out."

"Cryptic parting words... really?" she asked with disbelief. "I give you points for originality at least. It is better than the usual 'you move too fast' or 'let us just be friends' lines."

The usually stoic man for once looked to be at a loss for words and emotion. "You don't understand - " he started to say, but then the elf, Lex'aven, returned to the campfire in front of the Second Wind Inn.

Two sets of eyes shifted towards the unassuming elf, and if she was aware of the thick tension in the air, she said nothing about it. Instead, she informed Emiliana about her dealings with the Exigo representatives in the Shaharan Hills. "My business is done with them for now. I'll likely return with more ears in the future."

Both Daniel and Emiliana tried to compose themselves; she by taking a deep breath through her nose, and he by forcing himself to relax. Emiliana squared her armored shoulders, and then she pressed her lips together to wet them before speaking to Lex'aven. "Let me know when you are ready to depart towards the city."

The elf spoke in a warm, friendly tone. "Oh, that would be up to you, Salararius. I wouldn't want to take you from your business too early."

The Legionnaire shook her head and somehow managed to keep her voice even. "There is really nothing else left for me here."

Daniel flinched.

"Lead the way, then, m'lady," Lex'aven replied.

Emiliana started to move, but Daniel quickly made his way towards her despite his aching muscles. His whispered, urgent words soon filled her ears. "Watch the shadows. Stay out of them, and keep your magics up."

He did not linger, and Emiliana flicked her eyes skyward in a gesture of annoyance before turning towards her charge. A few melancholy trills later and the pair were hastening their way towards the city.

She did not look back.

[FoogooFish]

Opposites Always Attract - Part I

"I thought you were dead," she said to the unassuming man casually leaning against the iron gate not far from the ruined remnants of the Legion barracks. "I have not been able to locate you for some time."

"Some people might wish so," replied the gray-eyed man. He then folded the paper he had been reading, turned around, and tossed it into a nearby trash bin. "I've been busy. But then again, so have you, I take it."

Emiliana handed a parchment to Jones, the hard-working requisitions clerk of the Legion, offered a nod of thanks towards the man, and then moved towards Daniel Nobody.

"Centurio," he greeted while inclining his head and lightly dipping in a bow.

She mentally sighed. The news of her promotion had spread faster than she had expected. "...you have heard, then..." she somewhat dryly remarked before quickly motioning him back upright. "Oh stop it."

Daniel flashed a grin. "Come now, you can't expect someone like me to not hear... especially after that business at the gate," he added, referencing her recent success at preventing the city from falling to a Bloodmaim attack.

A faint smile curved her lips, but she did not linger on the subject matter. Instead, she tried to shift the topic of conversation back towards him. "How have you been, Daniel? Your absence... has been noticed."

"It has?" he asked as his eyebrows lifted in surprise. "I didn't know I was such a celebrity."

Her voice was thicker than she expected it to be. "I noticed."

How many times had she tried to scry his whereabouts only to have her results prove inconclusive? How many sleepless nights had she spent wondering if he was still alive? Why did she detest the half-elf so much simply because he reminded her, in some foreign way, of the man who now stood in front of her as if nothing at all were amiss? She already knew the answer.

"I thought it best to take a little vacation," Daniel explained. "Things were....unsettled... here in town."

A faint flicker of a smile curved her lips. "I can imagine," she softly replied. She could do more than imagine. The information she had received from the elven prisoner had done a lot to answer some of the questions Emiliana had always held about Daniel. Of course, the questions that had been answered were quickly replaced with ones that she suspected would never know the same fate. "Is it safe for me to assume that things are settled enough for the time being?"

To his credit, his face remained completely neutral except for the flash of amusement that showed in his eyes. "Oh, very settled."

Emiliana could only let her imagination fill in the blanks, but she could not help but wonder what had transpired to cause that amused look. Part of her felt it was better if she did not know. "I am glad to hear," she simply replied.

[FoogooFish]

Opposites Always Attract - Part II

They were in Aquor; the town was lightly dusted with freshly fallen snow, and the scenery was breathtaking. Everyone else had long since abandoned the campfire by the gate; only a few Blackwood mercenaries stood conversing amongst themselves in the distance. Emiliana and Daniel were discussing the Legion.

"I've known at least two Legionnaires who couldn't even pronounce some of the ranks," he wryly said to her.

"Yes, well... recruitment standards have been lowered since our numbers are so low," she countered.

"Even a rogue like myself could get in, I bet!"

"I am not sure if our standards are that low," she dryly replied, although her lips curved into a playful smile following her words.

"True, true," he said as he gestured to the poorly woven rags that passed for his clothing.

She regarded him for a moment. His entire appearance belied his true nature, and even she would not have been aware of it had she not arrested the right person who wanted to save himself by revealing what he knew. Unfortunately, her feelings for the gray-eyed man had been well-established long before she had learned the truth, and she abruptly strode forward and seated herself on the bench next to him.

"I'm not nearly as clever or dangerous as some of your recruits - " His words were cut short by her unexpected nearness, and he blinked.

"I find that ever so hard to believe, Daniel," she finished for him as she adjusted her cloak so that she was not sitting upon it.

"...what about your vantage point?" he asked while vaguely gesturing towards the resort town Emiliana had been watching. She still had the main thoroughfare in her peripheral vision.

"Would you prefer that I move?" she queried.

Daniel stifled a laugh. "It's not my place to tell a Legionnaire where to sit."

"Does my proximity make you uncomfortable?" she pressed. Part of her delighted in the way she had caught him unawares, and then another part of her realized that it was a dangerous game she sought to play with this man.

"No, simply curious," he casually replied. "It was rather unpredictable."

"Predictability can get one killed."

Daniel nodded his agreement with her words. "That's a hard lesson to learn. Most don't until it's too late."

Emiliana crossed her right leg over her left and wrapped her gauntlet-clad hands around her knees. "I have learned that it is better to vary one's movements... patterns... routines... that way the chances of receiving an unexpected sword to the gut are greatly minimized."

Daniel's lips curved into a faint, mocking grin. "Careful. You're starting to sound almost like a swordsman."

Or an assassin.

She smirked. "Almost." There was a few moments of silence between them before she spoke again. "Want something else unpredictable?"

"As long as it's not a blade in my gut."

"...well..." she teased, although her attention shifted to the quickly passing form of the half-elf she knew as Terry Wynthall. Daniel did not seem to pay him any notice, but Emiliana was confident that both men were acutely aware of the presence of the other.

"...you're good," Daniel said as he played along. "Did not see that coming."

"...I have considered it, especially after our next-to-last conversation, but no," she explained with a light chuckle. She then held his gaze as she spoke her next words. "Come to my promotion ceremony - as my escort."

He blinked. "Your what now?"

Whatever bravado she had in asking him quickly deflated. "Uh... well... the Legion plans to hold a ceremony to give me the official promotion, and..."

He raised a hand to stop her from trying to explain further. "Sorry, I'm just confused as to what being an 'escort' implies. Where I'm from, an escort is a nicer way of saying something else."

She blinked a few times as realization of what he meant finally dawned upon her. "Oh... ohh..." A rather deep blush reddened her cheeks, and she found sudden interest in fidgeting with the hem of her cloak as the sound of Daniel's low, quiet laughter reached her ears.

"When is the ceremony?" he asked as he tried to change the immediate subject.

"...within the tenday," she replied without looking towards him. "It is being held at the LaCroix Estate."

He looked at her sideways. "So you want me to stroll into the LaCroix estate, one of the most powerful noble houses in Sundren, on your arm... and hobnob with the undoubtedly most powerful and dangerously wealthy and influential people in the Realm?"

She had the sudden urge to crawl beneath the bench. She could stand unwavering in the path of a massive horde of Bloodmaim poised to siege Sundren City, but asking a man - no, asking this man - to accompany her to a gala and weathering his possible rejection absolutely terrified her. Her tone was flatter than she intended when she answered him. "...you could just say 'no' and be done with it."

A grin blossomed on his otherwise neutral expression. "Are you kidding? What a ride! Of course I'll go."

Her forehead furrowed - she had not truly expected him to agree - and then she quickly looked towards him. "Really?" she asked with genuine surprise.

"You forget..." he began in a gentle, sarcastic tone. "I'm an adventurer. If there's not a chance of me being imprisoned or killed, I'm not having a good time."

"My dear, dear Daniel... we both know you are far more than a simple adventurer," she replied, and while she could not subdue the barest hint of knowing to her tone, a genuinely happy smile brightened her expression all the same.

If the underlying meaning of her words registered with him, Daniel never reacted to them - not that she would expect anything different. "You're right," he agreed as he leaned in towards her and stage whispered. "I'm also..." He leaned a bit closer, and Emiliana felt her breath catch in her throat. "...devilishly good-looking."

He could have easily taken that moment to slip a dagger between the pieces of mithral armor she wore. He could have snapped her neck before she had time to scream. He could have killed her, disposed of her body, and the people of Sundren would have been left wondering why she suddenly disappeared without a trace. However, Daniel did none of those things, and so the bard over-exaggerated batting her lashes towards him. "Why do you think I cannot resist your charms?" she playfully asked. She was flirting, literally, with danger.

"Hells if I know," came his wry response.

She knew, though. She knew why she was attracted to him: they were opposites in almost every way. She had enjoyed a privileged life in Waterdeep; he had scrounged an existence in the slums of the City of Splendors. Although their paths had brought both of them to Sundren Valley, she had embraced the path of a Legionnaire - someone expected to stop people like him - while he had embraced the life of an Eboncoin - someone expected to stop people like her.

Daniel's voice interrupted her thoughts. "But yes. I'll even dress nicely," he added, which prompted a mock-gasp from Emiliana. "If you're lucky, I'll even bathe." When her eyebrows lofted in playful surprise, Daniel held up a hand. "I know, I know. It's true."

"Goodness..." she said, grinning. "I might start to think you actually like me if you keep doing all these wonderful, rare things just for me."

"To be honest, I feel as though I don't have much of a choice. He who angers nobility, asks for a sound whipping," he replied as he rose to his feet and stretched. The movement was cat-like, but Emiliana was well-aware that Daniel was more akin to prowling panther than an inconspicuous alleycat. "And I'd better get started. Layers of grime, and all that."

She pretended not to hear him. "I am not sure if I will need to wear my armor or a formal gown. Considering it is a military ceremony, my expectation is that I will be armored."

"Be wild," he said with a grin. "Go in neither."

She grinned as well. "I do not think it would be appropriate for me to wear absolutely nothing..." She let her words linger for a heartbeat. "...but a simple tunic."

Daniel snapped his fingers. "And here you were about to be unpredictable," he lightly admonished. "Such is life. I'll be seeing you then, milady," he told her as he gracefully bowed.

Her heart thudded in her chest. If he wanted unpredictability, she would be glad to oblige. She just had to find her courage. "One more thing before you go..."

"Mm?"

She was on her feet in an instant, and with a single, quick forward movement, her lips were pressed against his own lips in the same type of slow, smoldering, passionate kiss that the two had previously shared. Daniel instinctively slid an arm around her waist as he leaned into the kiss; when it ended, Emiliana affectionately nudged her nose against Daniel's nose before they both withdrew.

Unbeknownst to her, Terry Wynthall chose that very moment to pass by them again. "Oh Emily," Daniel breathed before his eyes darted to where Terry had just passed. "You have no idea as to the dangers you walk towards."

"Believe me when I say that I know," she quietly replied. It was the closest thing to an admission that he would receive from her right now. "Danger is the spice of life...right?"

"It certainly is," he quietly answered, and a shadow of something unknown to her flickered across his face.

Armor-encased fingertips momentarily brushed against his chest before she stepped back from him. "Be safe until I next see you."

"As well as I can. Try not to run into any vampires."

She softly chuckled, and the two regarded each other for a moment before Daniel turned to depart.

[FoogooFish]

Opposites Always Attract - Part III

She would not say that she sensed that he was in the city, but her instincts were accurate all the same. Ever since they had kissed again, Emiliana had thought of little else but Daniel - and what she knew about him. Even now, after Sendings were exchanged and plans to meet and talk were formed, Emiliana replayed past events in her mind as she readied herself to meet him. Her pristine mithral platemail remained on its armor rack.

* * * * *

One month ago...

Emiliana stood several feet in front of one of the anti-magic cells in Cell Block A and watched the elf who was confined behind the iron bars. The elf, Mythradin Aloufin, had attacked Elite Magus James Arrow, Adept Arto Magnum, and Emiliana while the trio were handling the removal of a necromancer's undead arm. Imprisonment had not agreed with the elf - nor did the execution order that she and James had signed against him. Mythradin paced behind the bars as he sought to secure not only his freedom, but his continued existence.

"What about your interests with Daniel," the elf suggested. "Need information on him?"

Whatever surprise she felt at the question was never shown. "I have no interests with Daniel," she coolly replied. He had already distanced himself from her.

"No?" Mythradin pressed before his thin shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Thought you two had a thing."

"I do not make it a habit to discuss my private life," she neutrally replied. "Daniel... is a friend."

"Very well," said Mythradin.

Curiosity finally got the better of her, and her head tilted to the right. "What do you know about him?"

"He is the leader of a faction known as the Eboncoin," came the elf's devastating, too-casual reply.

Outwardly, she never battled an eyelash. She did not even gasp. "I see," she simply replied, and then the elf launched into a long-winded explanation about the Cartel that Emiliana only halfway heard. Inwardly, she felt as if she had just been punched in the stomach.

"Who is it that threatens him?" she abruptly asked. If she could find the person responsible for causing him to withdraw from her...

"No one threatens Daniel," Mythradin insisted. "He is the head of the Eboncoin."

"...the head... the leader..." Emiliana heard herself stammer. "...the one who gives the orders on who lives and who dies..."

"My life is possibly forfeit for even telling you, but yes - he is the one with the most pull. I know not how else the Eboncoin functions."

"Did he have plans on infiltrating the Legion through me?" she curtly asked, and a quirk of a jaw muscle was the only thing that belied her otherwise calm expression.

"I have no idea," Mythradin replied. The words would be some of the last she would ever hear him speak.

* * * * *

The Trade Tier quietly bustled with the sounds of commerce as Emiliana, clad in a form-fitting black shirt and pants instead of her usual Legion armor, eased towards the door of Sunny Spindels. Daniel was already outside the shop, casually perched against the stairwell, smoking his ever-present cigarette. She pulled her dark hood back and stopped a few paces from him. "You were close, then," she offered in greeting. She had already known he was in the city; the words were a mere formality.

After blowing a cloud of smoke through his nostrils, Daniel's gray-eyed gaze lazily drifted towards her, and a lopsided smile was flashed. "Good conclusion," he said before he flicked the cigarette aside. "And you were in your rooms at the Sundren Comfort," he added.

A short, surprised blink was her response to his words about her own whereabouts. Despite their seemingly cordial exchange, the tension was suddenly palpable. It was if they had both been content to play the cat-and-mouse game up until that particular moment, and then they were both faced with the realization that they were both caught. Emiliana felt uneasy at the unexpected shift between them; she immediately regretted her decision to leave her armor in her suite. "The day is rather lovely..." she forced herself to say. "We could talk in the nearby park instead of a stuffy store." She knew a Legionnaire was posted near the entrance of the park. If Daniel tried anything...

"Enjoy the sun while it lasts, I always say," he said in agreement.

"...perfect," she replied.

Neither of them said anything while they strolled towards the small park situated behind the Temple of Helm. Emiliana gave a brief, informal salute to the Legionnaire standing guard, but the young woman was a newly enlisted Tirones who would prove utterly useless if Emiliana actually needed her. Still, should anything happen, there was at least someone who could provide a timeline of Emiliana's last known whereabouts - unless, of course, Daniel killed the Tirones, too.

Daniel had what appeared to be a wistful, nostalgic expression upon his face, and Emiliana found herself wondering what caused it. Had he killed someone here? Had he waited in the shadows for some unsuspecting nobleman to bring a lady here for a quick, clandestine tryst only to slit both their throats? "I always forget how big this temple is..." he idly remarked.

Emiliana moved to the stone bench and then motioned towards it. "Shall we sit?"

"Hm? Sure," he replied before taking a seat in one smooth, lithe movement.

She chose a spot close - but not too close - to Daniel and adopted her usual pose of one leg crossed over the other and her hands cupped around her knees. "So..."

"So," he echoed as he glanced at her with his usual neutral expression. "How go the patrols?

She nodded a few times. "Things have been relatively quiet in the days following the attack. Aside from a few more debates, my patrols have been uneventful." She was quiet for a few moments before speaking again. "How goes... treasure-hunting?"

Daniel barked a short laugh. "Ah, this is entertaining."

She felt her stomach start to knot, but her outward expression consisted of a slender eyebrow arcing. "Is it?"

His expression cooled, but there was still amusement in his eyes. "Come now. We both know better, and I tire of this dance."

The moment of truth had finally arrived, and Emiliana forced herself to give an indifferent shrug. "What do you want, Daniel? I know, and you know that I know, and I know that you know that I know. Do you simply want it acknowledged before we get back to whatever constitutes 'normal' for us?"

"I think it needs to be said and done," he replied. "Frankly, I'm a little confused."

"No, you are not."

"Oh?"

She tilted her head at him. "You just chastised me for the dance, and now you want to start the steps again? Come now," she admonished.

Daniel laughed what seemed to be a genuine, good-natured laugh. "Ah, Emiliana. You would have been a wonderful assassin."

She politely smiled in response. "I shall consider that a compliment."

"You should," he replied. "I've met killers with half the class as you."

A few more moments of silence passed between them before she spoke again. "What now, then?" she asked while absently toying with a few wisps of blond hair.

"Now? Nothing, really," said Daniel. "I was expecting to be put into chains and carted off."

"And I am still expecting you to try and slide a dagger between my ribs," she admitted. "I came unarmored so that at least things would be fair." She had correctly predicted that he would not wear armor to their rendezvous.

"To be perfectly honest, if you had tried to chain me, I would have done just that," he calmly replied, and she did not doubt him for an instant. His eyes never changed in their expression; his half-smile never wavered. By the Gods, she understood why he was so deadly.

Emiliana gave a small shake of her head. "You are not the type of man who could ever be chained, Daniel."

"Not willingly, in any case," he quipped. "But still... I am curious as to your reasoning."

"No, you are not," she said again. "You already know."

"I do," he admitted. "But I find it hard to believe that you would... ignore parts of your oaths as a Legionnaire."

Her eyes flickered back towards the small pond by which they sat. "I am not a paladin, nor am I a perfect person, but I will always strive towards the overall well-being of the Valley. There are other threats that demand my attention far more than..."

"...me," he supplied, and then his smile widened a touch. "And my particular family."

Her head faintly bobbed agreement. "We may disagree on how things should operate, but we are both a part of Sundren, and the State could not function to the best of its ability without us."

Daniel chuckled, and Emiliana briefly wondered if he was mocking her. "An interesting way to put it."

She inhaled a breath through her nose before looking towards him again. "The choice is yours to make. I can leave here, right now, and keep what I know in the recesses of my mind until the end of my days, and that will be that," she told him. "Or, I can stay, and... we laugh about how ridiculous is the attempt, but we agree to make it all the same."

Daniel was silent for a long time, watching the water in front of him, before he spoke again.

[FoogooFish]

Opposites Always Attract - Part IV

"I can never be the man who can stand by your side in public, Emiliana," Daniel said at long last. "I can't be who I am and give you a home, or a family. I want to be that man. I do. I want to have a home, have a trade, have children, and to have you," he told her. "But I have done terrible things, Emiliana."

Her eyes flitted towards him, and she could barely contain the relief and elation in her voice. "Then we work towards that goal together. I do not expect anything to change right this moment, Daniel. Hells, I do not even expect anything to change a week from now... a month... a year..."

He clasped his hands together and leaned forward. "Listen, please," he implored as he looked at her and the calm mask momentarily cracked. "You have to understand - I have killed men. Women. Children," he said as his hands shook. "All defenseless. All for the sake of a war that they knew nothing about, and could never do anything to change. I have pirated on the Sea of Swords, and murdered nobles in their beds. I have killed by poison, by blade, by hand. I have done these things, and yet they are not what weighs on my mind."

The confession of his heinous crimes caused Emiliana's face to scrunch and tears to gather in the corners of her eyes; she found herself fighting the urge to scream. "So that means that you are forever chained to this life and cannot break free of it for something else - something you just admitted that you want? Or are you just trying to spare my feelings?" Anger was quickly rising within her, causing her body to quiver, and she irritably wiped her fingertips at her eyes.

Daniel's arms tensed. "If I had done these things and felt guilty... felt anything... I would say that I am only chained by my guilt," he countered. "But I didn't. I felt nothing. And that is why I am scared, Emiliana. What kind of monster am I?" he asked, and Emiliana saw the legitimate terror in his eyes.

She wanted to wrap her arms around him. She wanted to hold him close and tell him that everything would be alright. She wanted to do something - anything - to comfort him. Instead, she shook her head. "You are a product of your environment... of the slums of Waterdeep. You can... Gods, you can have a better life. Let me... let me give you a better life," she pleaded as her voice cracked and tears slipped down her cheeks.

Daniel regarded her with painful indifference. "Excuses, Emiliana. That's all it is. And that's why I could never deserve someone like you."

She choked back a sob and tried to keep her voice from trembling too much. "Who is giving excuses now?" she challenged.

His wry smile slowly returned to his features. "Not excuses, facts. Monsters don't have happy endings. Didn't you know that?"

"Do you think that this is what I wanted?" she suddenly, angrily asked. "Do you have any idea of how I felt when I learned the truth about you? I am still here, though. I am at least making an effort."

His reply was emotionless. "Not half as bad as he felt, I assure you." The fate of Mythradin Aloufin had been sealed the moment he had destroyed Emiliana's blissful ignorance, and she briefly wondered the manner by which he had died.

She leaned forward just enough to rest her hand upon Daniel's arm. "Please do not toss aside something that could be beautiful simply because you are afraid. Nothing in life worth having is easy - this would be no exception. It would take time, and it would take effort, but..." She paused to give a half-laugh, half-sob. "...we could have a life together. Children. Little versions of us who would never want for anything." Never in her life had she really wanted children, but suddenly the thought of having children with him was the most delightful thing she could imagine.

"Emiliana..." He gently spoke her name and then paused to collect his thoughts. "I'm not afraid of us. I'm afraid of what I might do to us, in the end. And even if I was deserving, I could not change who I was." Her trembling fingers tightened upon his arm, and rested his own gloved hand upon hers. "Look. This isn't something that's... easy. For me, or for you," he told her as he tightened his hand on hers. "But I'll still be there at your ceremony."

He was still rejecting her, she bitterly realized. His words were just filler meant to placate her; they were empty, hollow things used as tools to convey his pity. Pathetic, she inwardly chastised herself. "I will not beg you for your affections," she quietly, sadly stated even as she was summoning her inner Iron Fist to the surface. "If this is... truly what you want, then I will respect your wishes and never bother you again. I think, though, that you would be missing out on genuine happiness if you refuse me."

She had said something similar on more than one occasion in the past. Her words failed then; they would likely fail now. It was not in her nature to surrender without a fight, though. "Let someone love you, Daniel. Let me love you, and let the consequences be damned."

They quietly regarded each other, and Emiliana held her breath as she met his stoic gaze with one that conveyed her own tentative, fragile hopes.

"You don't realize it, but I gave you what passes for my heart ages ago," he gently murmured. "There's no question of love."

There is no question of love.

A weepy, rumbling laugh escaped her lips; a rush of happiness tinged with fear swelled within her chest. "Then there is nothing stopping us," she optimistically declared.

Daniel did not share her enthusiasm. "An army or two. One of metal soldiers, one of soldiers in shadows."

She sniffled, and her free hand moved to cup his cheek. "I do not care. Let them come."

He gave a light laugh, but Emiliana heard the hesitation in it. "Oh, my dear. You'd never see them coming."

It was then that he reached for her hands and drew her close enough so that he could gently kiss her, and Emiliana felt simultaneously giddy and terrified. She had never expected to walk down this particular path; she had never expected that she would fall in love with an enemy - much less one of the most powerful and deadliest of enemies. He was her foe. He was a hated thing that she should capture and confine for all the crimes he had committed. Even now, as she was caught in his arms, his people were likely robbing and killing elsewhere in the Valley - and they did so by his command.

She was suddenly reminded of a particular passage from a book she had loved as a young girl. The story was about a man and a woman who fell in love despite the fact that they were from rival families. Their love was tested many times as their families tried to destroy it, but ultimately, the pair of star-crossed lovers knew happiness together.

Looking at him, she felt a thrill of excitement shoot through her, mingled with a tiny bit of fear as well. How many men had that powerful body slain? And yet, he cradled her as tenderly as a child. It was an awesome feeling, knowing that the hands that caressed her so gently might just as easily have snapped her neck with a single, sharp movement. It was a overwhelming feeling, knowing that although she had gentled it for a time, his raw, deadly power was always there, just beneath the surface, ready to spring like a panther upon its prey.

The eerie similarity between the story she loved and the situation in which she found herself was not lost upon her.

Once their kiss had ended, she shifted closer so that she could rest her head against his shoulder. Daniel, however, drew away from her and shook his head. "Gods. This is a terrible idea, and is only going to end in tragedy."

Emiliana frowned - both and his withdrawal and his pessimistic words. "If you want to leave, then leave. I believe in us. I am staying right here."

"I never said I didn't," he reassured her in an amused tone. "Just commenting. Now shush," he said before he wrapped an arm around her again. "If you listen very closely, you can hear the padded feet of thieves bounding across the rooftops."

She comfortably nestled against him and savored the first vestiges of contentment. "...this sounds like the beginning of a story you will one day tell our children..." she said with a hint of her own amusement.

"No, the violence is graphic," Daniel seriously replied. "Especially when they trip and fall."

Emiliana was not sure how to respond. "Well, I mean... you can... change the story a bit..." she helpfully suggested.

Daniel Nobody, deadly leader of the Eboncoin, burst out laughing. Emiliana Blackwell, soon to be recognized as a decorated, veteran Legion officer, stared at him for a moment before she finally laughed as well.

The years of battle and hatred between the two factions faded as though their stain had never touched the two who sat side by side upon the bench in the park. In that moment, as blue eyes affectionately gazed into gray ones, there was nothing for them except each other.

End.

[FoogooFish]

What should she have felt when she saw him again after so much time had passed? When her breath caught in her throat the moment his familiar lazy grin adorned his cigarette-smoking lips, she realized that taking to the battlefield had not done anything at all to dull the attraction she felt for him. She briefly wondered if he felt anything at all when he saw her, but then she decided that it was doubtful that he had even noticed her absence.

Life on the battlefield had changed Emiliana Blackwell. The constant fighting had made her realize that all of her obsessions and pursuits were ultimately meaningless. Every day, she witnessed the death of someone who would no longer be able to live his or her life the way she would be able to live it. Every day, she watched as the eyes of another soldier forever closed. Every day, she continued living, and fighting, and surviving - and eventually the soldier-bard found herself wanting a respite from the drama and complexities that comprised her personal life. It would not be so bad, she convinced herself, to live a normal life with a normal man. And as the days passed, she slowly banished (or so she thought) the silly, romantic notion of a Legionnaire, a criminal, and their star-crossed love affair from her mind. In its place sprang the quiet, uneventful normality between a stalwart Legionnaire and an ever-vigilant man favored by Helm.

Ryland Padant reminded her of Ulrich Lecuyer in more ways than one. Ulrich had been favored by Kelemvor, and then when Kelemvor lost the battle to Myrkul, Ulrich found new favor from Helm. Ulrich had been a Legionnaire under Emiliana's command; Ryland always conducted himself as if he were under her command. Both men had auburn hair, although Ulrich's had been darker. Both were kind, loyal, and chivalrous. If Ulrich had not been killed, Emiliana wistfully thought one day during a skirmish with the Bloodmaim, he would have become her husband. She would not be 'Centurio Blackwell' - she would be 'Centurio Lecuyer.' In a tiny recess of her mind, though, Emiliana was glad that she kept her family name throughout her rise through the Legion ranks.

When she arrived back in Sundren City, it had been easy to let the Helmite into her life. He arrived at her door shortly after she set her worn rucksacks upon the plush, luxurious carpet of her suite. They had exchanged polite greetings, and when he spoke of an upcoming extra-planar trip, Emiliana expressed her concern that he would not return to her. They had embraced, and the kiss her gave her was the chaste kiss of a friend... an ally... but not a lover.

A few nights later, he spoke to her of the other woman in his life, and Emiliana could not help but inwardly laugh even as she was outwardly seething. Men were fickle, but then again, so was she. The obligatory angered was expressed, and he pleaded with her to understand that he did not care for this other woman the way that he cared for her - and Emiliana went through the motions of forgiving him for hurting her. Her heart reminded her of one of those sweet-baked confections she used to enjoy as a child: the first piece given to someone else was always too big. The next piece given to someone else was a little smaller... and a little smaller... and so on and so forth until there was nothing left but crumbs. All that was left within her was crumbs, so what did it matter if she forgave him simply so she could have a shred of affection in her life?

Johanna Patson - that impulsive, unpredictable fool of a woman - was probably the only person in Faerūn who could still see past the lies Emiliana had told herself enough times that she started believing them. Johanna was still the one who could evoke tears from her when she had long ago buried the emotions and passion that everyone else faulted her for keeping. Johanna, by the Gods, was still her best and most dearest friend, even though Emiliana wanted to strangle her on most days. Still, Johanna did not know about Daniel - and Emiliana intended to keep that secret along with the many others she now kept to herself. As Daniel himself had said to her, nothing good would ever come of such a pairing. Why expend the effort?

Did he realize, she wondered, that she wished it could be different between them? Did he fault her for changing her mind after she had been the one who had optimistically assured him that everything would be alright? She would never know, because his expressions and moods were as unreadable as they would always be, but she hoped that maybe - just maybe - he cared for her enough to understand her choice.

In the meantime, she restlessly and impatiently waited for the return of the man she had assured that she loved prior to his departure to planes unknown. His return would start something new for her - a nice, normal life with a nice, normal man.

Or at least that is what she told herself.

[FoogooFish]

The elf relaxed upon the sofa in Emiliana's opulent suite. "A casual observation," he remarked after she had handed him a glass of wine and took a seat next to him. "You said, 'he cares for me,' not 'I care for him.'" The elf took a small, casual sip of the offered drink, and the Legionnaire inwardly sighed.

Tigen Amastacia was one of the few people left in the Valley who knew Emiliana better than she knew herself. The elf could see past the stoic visage she maintained in public, and what was worse, he could hear the unspoken meanings behind the otherwise nondescript words she uttered. Trying to convince him that he was wrong about her was an ongoing battle that she was nowhere close to winning, and she knew that this particular conversation would have the same disastrous results.

Still, she demurred. "...a slip of phrase," she replied as her shoulders lifted in a mild shrug. She brought her own glass of wine to her lips, although she did not yet drink. "He is a good man."

"I've never known you to settle," Tigen bluntly told her. "Things really that bad?"

The corners of her lips curved into a mirthless smile. "Why do you think things are bad, my friend? I am a commanding officer of an army embroiled in a multi-front war. My personal life is inconsequential." She paused a moment to choose her words. "Ryland is a knight of Helm. He is a brave, faithful man who loves me, adores me, and wants to make me happy."

"Again, I'm not hearing the reciprocal."

"I care for him," she dutifully stated.

The assertion was true enough; she did care for Ryland Padant. Their relationship had never been right, though. She had been a mentor to him, and then they slowly became friends, but then she was in the field for a time. Upon her return, the first awkward steps towards a relationship had been danced, but then he had to travel elsewhere. Normalcy had been briefly theirs before Ryland found a magical gender-changing belt, and then the majority of their time together had been spent trying to find a way to revert 'Rylanda' to 'Ryland.' Once the knight was himself again, their respective duties to Sundren occupied much of their time, and the two barely saw each other.

Tigen brusquely persisted. "Why does it seem I'm less depressed being single than you are being with someone?"

"I am not depressed," Emiliana insisted. "Ryland is a good man. He yields to me, and I never have to wonder where I stand with him. He has placed me upon a pedestal." Emiliana found that she could not look at the elf while she spoke to him. "I have a normal, affectionate relationship," she concluded.

"That's not a normal relationship at all," came Tigen's no-nonsense reply.

"For me, Tigen, it is as normal as possible. He is not trying to hurt me."

"It's unhealthy."

"How so?" she quietly asked, even though she already knew the answer.

True to his nature, the elf quickly ticked off the reasons why Emiliana was wrong and he was right. "You're with someone who submits to you completely, doesn't challenge you, and worships you. You have a pet."

She frowned. "He is not a pet."

"Yes he is," Tigen insisted. "He follows your lead, does what you say, and will never, ever disappoint you or challenge you. He's a dog in full plate."

Her frown deepened. "You know my history with romance in sordid detail. Ryland may not challenge me, but... he is safe. He is a warm, fuzzy blanket." She took an irritable sip from her wine glass as the conversation degenerated.

"A blanket? I think calling him a 'pet' was too much credit for him, then," Tigen scoffed.

"I am not getting any younger, and I am sure as the Hells not getting any nicer. He sees past The Iron Fist and makes me smile every now and again," she crossly explained. "Would you rather me be alone?"

"You're not even at your second decade," Tigen protested. "You've got at least another few decades to be able to procreate and decide who you spend your life with. I'm saying settling for a security blanket is going to lead to a very loveless relationship."

"Well then it will be no different than the others!" she vehemently snapped, although her eyes immediately closed following the outburst, and her tone soon softened again. "....sorry."

The elf was unaffected by the outburst; he had weathered far worse storms from his young charge. "I know it's not really easy to hear," he told her. "It's not just unhealthy, though. It's selfish."

"You know I fear loneliness," she reminded him.

The elf opted to change tack. "Your parents are happily married, yes?"

She could barely keep her tone from revealing her exasperation. "Why are we even discussing my personal life? I have done well to keep everything buried for so long, and then you - you - start asking questions, and my stoicism falters. Leave well enough alone, Tigen. I have a reputation to uphold now. The little girl is dead and gone."

"I ask because I'm still clearly the only one willing to ask," Tigen answered.

Emiliana sucked in a deep, calming breath before taking another sip of wine. "There are few left who remember me as I used to be," she offered in paltry explanation.

Tigen shook his head. "I don't think of you as the naive bard who first came to the Valley."

"How, then, do you view me?" she queried.

"What you were or are or will be is irrelevant. I'm simply speaking to you as an equal and a friend," he informed her.

"Fine," she acquiesced. "Yes, my parents are still happily married. Why... baffles me, really, as they are both capable, strong-willed people. They constantly bicker, but... there is love in the way they interact."

"That's because their marriage never is boring. They challenge each other, force each other to think."

The comments evoked a rare smile from the Legionnaire, and she lightly nodded her agreement. "I do not disagree with you. Things are not so simple for me, though. Most men - the ones who did not know me as I used to be - are intimidated by me, and to be quite honest... I am content to perpetuate the cycle."

"Well, if they are going to be intimidated by your rank, then were they really worth it to begin with?" the elf questioned.

Emiliana shook her head. "No, but that is exactly my point: my loneliness is guaranteed if I do not bend enough to let someone close to me."

"Yes, but in the end, it's selfish," Tigen matter-of-factly said.

"Why? I have needs, too."

"Ryland, as you say, loves and adores you. He worships you. But to you, he's just a convenient security blanket - something to keep the cold away.

She fidgeted upon the sofa. "I love him in my own way," she asserted.

"A working relationship is about equals," Tigen countered.

"Our relationship has had hiccups, but we worked towards happiness together." She swirled the wine in her glass before taking another sip; even she could see through the thinness of her responses.

Tigen finished off what remained of his wine. "If you say you're happy, and if you really are happy, then nothing I've said should really bother you, because I'm wrong."

"Do you think I am bothered?" she asked with a forced sense of nonchalance.

The elf remained unaffected by her attempts to deceive him. "The outburst earlier is some rather compelling evidence to suggest so, yes."

Her shoulders slumped in defeat, and she looked down at the glass in her hand. "I gave... everything I had left within me to someone else. I do care about Ryland, and I do love him in my own way, but... I have to accept reality. I accepted it a long time ago. Please do not fault me for wanting some measure of comfort in my life."

"I don't," Tigen simply stated.

"You think me selfish."

"In this instance, yes," he affirmed. "You aren't a terrible person for being selfish; we aren't paladins, after all. We aren't forced to live by some strict moral guideline."

She inwardly winced as soon as paladins were mentioned. "Must we speak of these things? Please, Tigen... I have done so well to keep the emotions buried."

Tigen gestured at the suite in which the pair were sitting. "If you don't learn to deal with your emotions in a safe environment like here, then what will you do when they all eventually explode in a less ideal location?"

"Those days are behind me," she assured the elf. "I have learned to control myself."

"Emotions are like explosions," he warned. "If you simply bottle them up, eventually the bottle will break no matter what it's made of."

Memories were creeping unbidden into her thoughts. "My passions were a detriment, so I subdued them."

"Our passions are what makes us who we are," Tigen reminded her.

She very nearly laughed, as she had once believed something very similar. Instead of laughter, however, her tone turned steely. "They were a detriment to me."

Tigen shook his head. "You'll never convince me of that, and I'm wondering if you've even convinced yourself of it."

"Change is inevitable, right? I needed to change. I needed to cast aside the trappings of girlishness that only brought ridicule and contention. When I wanted him, I gave everything - and my passions were my undoing. My emotions were my weakness. I learn from mistakes so that I do not repeat them."

"Him?"

"Dain," she gently answered. A final sip of wine followed, and then she set aside the empty glass.

"Ahh," the elf quietly said, and she felt the fire in his words die and get replaced with sympathetic, perhaps pitiful realization.

Emiliana wasted no time in seizing the opportunity to steer the conversation elsewhere. "Do you want more wine?" she asked as she reached for the nearby bottle.

"Sure," Tigen distractedly replied.

Bottle in hand, she turned to refill Tigen's glass. "How are things with you?"

The elf lightly nodded, and Emiliana was relieved when the conversation finally shifted. "Still single, still breathing."

[FoogooFish]

The Death of Maia Nanethiel - Part I

(August 26th, 2012)

The rain was relentless as it fell upon the shields, armors, and weapons of the soldiers and irregulars gathered just north of Sundren City. Emiliana could barely see through the downpour, but she could see enough of the enemy forces on the opposite side of the muddy battlefield to know that this was a battle she would ultimately lose. The Legion and its allies were outnumbered two-to-one, and the fate of the people still remaining in the capital rested in a last-ditch, desperate plan by the Hands of Mundus. Emiliana and the few others entrusted with the secretive plan were supposed to stall for time and engage the dark army just long enough so that the ritual magic could be performed.

Two large silhouettes in the distance moved towards the center of the field, and Emiliana moved in that direction as well. Dain Tornbrook and Darius Blackwell were at her right, and Maia Nanethiel flanked her left. The commanders for both sides of the pending war coolly appraised each other, and the obligatory words were exchanged. The Legion would not yield, and the Black Hand would not surrender. If not for the fact that this meaningless banter bought precious moments of time, Emiliana would have returned to her soldiers and prepared for battle. Instead, she remained quiet as Golias Valkenswaald, a champion of Bane, issued a challenge towards Darius, a champion of Torm. The stakes seemed simple enough in that the two would duel, and one side would be deprived of a valuable combatant. There was an unspoken sentiment of death in the uttered words, though, and Emiliana recognized it. The man who lost would never again live.

Should she have felt anything when her brother agreed to the duel? She felt no fear; she felt no anxiety. Darius was a capable swordsman, and his faith in his patron was strong. "End him," were the only two words that a sister spoke to her brother before he prepared to face his foe.

Maia, in contrast, had much more to say. "I'm not going to stand by and watch Darius lose!" she quietly hissed, and she was reluctant to withdraw from midfield alongside Emiliana and Dain. The elf's name was spoken by the Legionnaire in a command for her to rejoin the pair, but Maia insistently pointed at Golias as she spoke. "His allies are close enough, too." Emiliana said nothing in response, and the elf scowled before moving aside, although her position was still halfway between the two champions and where Emiliana and Dain stood.

"It rains, man of Strife," Darius calmly spoke to Golias as the two moved towards each other. The duel was imminent, and Emiliana's visage was set in a grim look of determination as she watched her brother. "A foul sign for you."

"A loud bark, from a small pup," Golias retorted, and then he moved forward against Darius.

Emiliana held her breath as the two champions battled in earnest. Their blades arced and slashed through the rain as they each tried to find purchase upon the other, and their plated boots sloshed through the mud and the muck as they each moved to avoid and block the powerful swings aimed towards them. The Legionnaire's nostrils flared as Darius took a heavy blow to his left shoulder, and then she clenched her jaw as yet another powerful swing caught his midsection. The paladin grunted, and then invocations to Torm reverberated in the rain as Darius called upon his patron for added strength and resilience. The champion of Torm wielded Magdalena, his divine longsword, with renewed vigor, and Golias growled in pain as the holy weapon bit into his flesh. The momentum of the fight shifted, and Darius proved himself a worthy opponent when he landed another blow upon the champion of Bane. An arrow then zipped towards the two men and embedded itself into Golias, and it was followed by two more arrows fired in rapid succession.

"Maia!" both Emiliana and Dain yelled in unison, although the latter added harsher words towards the elf. "You honorless cur!"

All eyes shifted towards the blue-haired elf, who was already reaching for another arrow. For Emiliana, everything seemed to happen in slow motion, but the reality was that after a rumble from the clouds above them, a flash of red lightning streaked down from the sky and completely incinerated Maia Nanethiel into nothingness.

*

(November 18th, 2010)

"I will not remain in the company of an uncivilized, wretched murderer," Lysandra Blackwell hissed before striding towards the exit of the Second Wind Inn.

"A murderer?" asked a confused December Augustine.

"The point-ear over there," Lysandra replied while tossing a dirty look towards the blue-haired elf who had just entered the establishment.

Emiliana briefly looked between her cousin and the elf, but the brand new arrival to the Valley was much too interested in the flirtations and flatteries of Deacon "Twinkles" Seatric to pay the hostility much attention. Still, after Lysandra's departure from the inn, snippets of conversation found their way to the girl's ears inbetween talk of sharktopusses and presents.

"Umm, why did she call you murderous?" Erik Halfgar cautiously asked.

"Well, basically, she picked a fight with me in the forest. I won, and now she's sulking - despite me being nice enough to allow her friend to take her and be tended by medics in the fort," Maia Nanethiel replied with a small shrug. "Legionnaires don't tend to take being spanked for being bad graciously."

*

(December 17th, 2011)

"I remember you," Maia said to Emiliana when the two encountered each other after much time - around a year - had passed since their last encounter. "I know what you've grown to be as well. I'll even admit as to a little jealousy in how much you've been able to bloom under the rain. You've grown thorns, but you haven't wilted noticeably."

"Do I remind you of my cousin?" Emiliana asked with a touch of wry humor.

"No. You're far too smart by comparison," Maia deadpanned in reply. "You have enough grace about you so that I've never had to be in conflict with you in the past. It's a trend I expect to continue, from what I've learned to know of you."

"I am still the same in that regard," the Legionnaire replied with a smile, and there was a genuine fondness to the gesture. "It is really good to see you again, Maia. You bring back so many memories of when my days were different."

*

(December 26th, 2011)

"You've been promoted to the same rank as Peridan," Maia quietly stated as she and Emiliana sat near the fireplace of Room Three in the Sundren Comfort Inn. "I can understand how it happened, but I have trouble relating. You're someone I should know, but I realize I actually know very little of you. I only know what I saw in the past, and what you've chosen to show." The elf paused and gave the Legionnaire a square look. "Who are you, Emiliana Blackwell? Can you tell me?"

Blue eyes evenly met Maia's gaze. "I am Emiliana Renée Blackwell, daughter of Matthias and Alana Blackwell of Waterdeep. I came to Sundren Valley to escape the family tradition of military service, but instead I embraced it and excelled the same as my kin. The wide-eyed, silly girl you knew prior to your absence from the Valley is still within me, somewhere, but she has been replaced by the woman who is 'affectionately' known amongst her soldiers as the Iron Fist."

"Do you regret what you've become?" Maia asked, although not unkindly.

There was no hesitation in Emiliana's answer. "No."

"Are you proud of it?" the elf pressed.

"Change is inevitable."

*

(August 14th, 2012)

"I know it's hard sometimes, but remember that 'Emiliana' is a person who is working for the Legion. Despite the way you've branded yourself, I don't think you as a person comes second to the role you've chosen. If it makes you feel stronger to identify and immerse yourself into the role, that's fine. Putting something aside by necessity is not the same as sacrificing it and no longer having it." Maia furrowed her brow. "Your true nature is not lost, Emiliana. You just need circumstances to give you the chance to enjoy it again," she softly told the Legionnaire.

Emiliana rose from her desk. "I am still an optimist. My optimism is simply tempered with practicality."

A short span of silence passed before she spoke again. "Ryland is gone," she told Maia, and there was a casualness to the statement that implied such was expected.

The elf's eyes narrowed, and she softly sighed. "You're still young."

"...then why do I feel so damned old?" Emiliana rhetorically queried before taking a breath to continue. "Life is a series of choices, and I chose the Legion. There is no mate for me, because there is no one who can stand that the 'Iron Fist' is Emiliana Blackwell."

*

[FoogooFish]

(See previous post for Part I.)

The Death of Maia Nanethiel - Part II

(August 24th, 2012)

"Well done," Maia commented to Emiliana after their successful missions against the Bloodmaim had ended. A fond smile followed. "You know, I'm really proud of how well you've handled yourself."

"You are invaluable to me, Maia. I hope you are aware of that fact even if I do not often say so," the Legionnaire replied with equal fondness.

The elf winked. "...and I love you too, Emiliana. Be well." Maia smiled, gave Emiliana a short wave, and then walked away. It would be the last time the two saw each other before they took to the battlefield against the Black Hand.

*

(August 26th, 2012)

Emiliana and Dain both stood dumbfounded as the scorched dirt sizzled in the place where the elf had stood moments earlier. Nothing remained of the self-titled Faerie Queen of the Viridale. Not even a shred of Illūve, the magnificent duskwood longbow she wielded, was left behind. She was gone, and she would never again walk through the Valley.

The Legionnaire felt numb as she forced herself to look back towards Darius and Golias. She mutely watched as Darius struck the killing blow against his adversary, and the champion of Bane died crumpled at her brother's feet.

"Well done," she simply said to Darius after he instructed the enemy forces to gather their fallen commander. Emiliana swallowed down the grief rising in her stomach and then turned back towards her soldiers and allies. She was the Iron Fist of the Legion, and there was still a war on the horizon.

"Prepare," she commanded, and the immediate sounds of spellcasting and clanking armors and weapons soon drowned out the buzzing agony of sibilant earth.

(End.)