Firelight played over worn parchment as Uilossiel sat within the Hall of Fire, engrossed in a book. She turned the page sideways, eyes roving over a diagram of various bone fractures, and how they were to be set and bandaged. She frowned in concentration, pencil tapping her chin thoughtfully. She had not known there were so many different kinds of bones in the body, nor had she ever given thought to how they might be broken, and later mended. It was fascinating, but also necessary, that she read about the theory behind such healing techniques, to be better prepared for the future. She was deep in contemplation about the best way to bind a shattered collar-bone when a girlish giggle recalled her to the present.
She glanced around the Hall. From her vantage point in the balcony, quite close to the fireplace, she could see no one near the door. She glanced downwards and nearly recoiled at the sight of Dolthafaer standing beside the fireplace, talking to a bright-eyed young elleth. Shrinking into the shadows behind a pillar, she put down her book noiselessly, eyes trained on the two. The girl blushed prettily at something Dolthafaer said, and he gave her a disarming smile. Uilossiel glared at the scene unfolding before her, hoping that it had been a hallucination brought on by too much study. But no, now the girl was batting her eyelashes at him, gazing at him with large, expressive eyes. Leaning forwards, Uilossiel strained to hear the matter of their conversation, her glare deepening.
"... for your promotion. A congratulatory present." The girl fidgeted slightly, long chestnut tresses gleaming in the firelight. Uilossiel looked her up and down. She was young and lithe, with the natural poise of an archer. One of the Arrows, most likely, Uilossiel decided. Her lip curled in derision as the elleth turned a bright smile towards Dolthafaer, presenting him with a parcel wrapped in indigo cloth and tied with a silver ribbon.
"Well then... gladly, my lady." Dolthafaer took it with a smile, taking a moment to appreciate the wrapping before untying the ribbon. Uilossiel caught a glimpse of something silver in the firelight, and a faint glimmer of purple.
The girl gave another coy smile. "It is ... " Here she brought one slender hand to her neck. "It is for your cloak." Uilossiel's hands clenched into fists. Who did this upstart child think she was? And more, why did Dolthafaer do nothing to fend off her advances? With a pang Uilossiel remembered the harsh words they had exchanged the evening before, when she had come to return Duilin to him. She had been studiously avoiding him since the Arrow's return. It was no wonder, then, that he should not turn down more pleasant company.
"This is... very beautiful, Luthelian." Dolthafaer turned the clasp over in his hands. So. Her name was Luthelian, and she was most probably of the Arrow. Uilossiel filed the information away for future reference. "Did your sister make this? I remember you told me she was a metalsmith."
Luthelian blushed again. "My sister made it. I have no skill in such craft..."
"Thank you. I will wear it proudly." Dolthafaer hesitated for a moment. "You did well in the north, Luthelian. Your skill on the hunt was invaluable. I look forward to working with you in the future."
Uilossiel stared hard at Dolthafaer, not quite sure if his words contained another meaning. Was this elleth the new recruit he had been busy with in the days before he left for the Hithaeglir? Was she perhaps the reason he had been absent for most of the Winter Ball, when he had begged her leave to take care of some duties for the Arrow? She stood up and slammed her book shut with a satisfying thump that echoed around the hall. She hastened down the stairs and stormed out the door, not caring if they saw her leave.
Why was her face damp? She wiped a stray tear from one eye. Cold as ice, bold as flame. So she would be, and curse herself for a fool for caring at all about the company the Lord of the Arrow kept. What did it matter to her? She would keep to her herbs and books, for that was where her life lay now. Though she did allow herself one moment of morbid delight as she opened her book again and wondered what Luthelian's wrist would look like in a sling.
