To Imagine...

Chacda (6)

"Will you tell me your name?" There was a silence in the room that might have been comforting to me if it had been occupied by anyone other than this man. I've been used to being looked down on by others my entire life to no end, but the way this man held himself above me crawled under my skin. 

"I feel surprised that you even asked," I offered, glancing over one shoulder and then the other as he walked behind me, eyes following him. Each hair was raised across my body, the fact that I had to be alone with this man embodying my fear.

He smiled a little, but I didn't trust it. He leaned in closer to me and I shifted away on my heels.

"I'm not quite sure what gave you the impression that I was asking," he grinned with his words, but turned away again with a wave of his hand. "No matter, we can move on. Come, sit." 

"What is it that you're supposed to get out of this?" The moment I spoke I feared his reaction to my venomous tone, surprising even myself. I was already treading a thin line and my words were sharp--I hesitated to sit.

Itir regarded me casually, leaning over the back of a chair with his arms crossed on the headrest. He made a small huff like a laugh and then looked up into the ceiling, head cocked as if he was thinking, holding up a hand to start counting.

"Ah, let's see! It ought to start with money, trade routes, and an object of irreplaceable worth--perhaps a shift of favors, an inheritance of slaves and breeders, maybe even a few fascinating trinkets to pique my fancy. Tetherel has already extended the offer of any position in her campaign, but I have yet to express my interest. Alas, I fit in no one place. Certainly none under her paltry rule." He smiled lazily and waggled his fingers. "And that is just the beginning."

He stood from where he leaned then and began to pace here and there in the room, admiring books settled neatly on the shelves lining the walls. The room was like a study, though a bit dimly lit, and it was cozy--somewhere you could quietly relax between books and candlelight. I had to admit that it pleased me.

"Despite all of the trivialities of an alliance--" These 'trivialities' he spoke of were far from 'trivial', I knew-- "Tetherel has something that I want."

I decided not to comment on that and his finger stopped on the spine of a hardback after a long silence that I allowed to stretch on. He pulled it out and let it fall open to a random page in his hand, studying it, but when he turned to walk to me I bristled. No matter how civil he played, I couldn't even stand the sight of him. But he held out the dusty tome from a respectable distance and allowed me to take it from him, soft dark hair drifting over his eyes, gentle smile hugging his lips. It was open to a drawing of an entrancing staff, some kind that I had never seen before. It was obviously very, very precious, a magic emanating from it that must be tethered to the staff itself in some way. God, it must be an ancient relic...

"What makes you think that she has it?" I questioned, looking up to him as I handed the book back. If there was one thing that piqued my interest...

He seemed pleased with my curiosity and swept up the tome, replacing it back into the hundreds of books resting here. "Oh, she has it. Or else she knows where it is. And that is even more dangerous." His back was turned to me, but I could hear the smile and a hint of something dark in his voice even as he spoke casually. "I will get what I want."

I had the feeling that he was talking about more than the staff. I decided firmly that I did not want to know. What was I doing here?

"Sit." He commanded, and I felt the compulsion to listen--my eyes flicked up at the hint of a scent in the air: alcohol. I hadn't realized my lips had been parted until he turned to me with the bottle and I swallowed. He sat in the chair across the table from the sofa I rested on.