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Survival Against the Odds - Prologue
Daerundros sighed as she picked up her sword from the corner of her room. Taking a rather good look about her, she smiled warily as she began tidying the bed, cleaning up messes, and stuffing unneeded things to drawers, chests... it would be a long day. Soon enough, flowers were in their vases, vases on the tables, pots and kettles back in their proper places, drawers, chests, and wardrobes all sealed shut, and every mess that had been lying somewhere was tidied up. Not one single speck of dirt could be found on Daerundros' silk bed.
There was a loud knock on the door as Daerundros finished up with her cleaning. Striding over from her bedroom to the main hall of her house she opened it and saw, to her astonishment, one of the sentries-in-training under her command.
"Mae govannen, hîril," He stated. The young elf had a crown of brown hair on his head, and brilliant silvery eyes. His pale complexion served as to make him slightly more handsome than other Male Elves. His face was long, expression rather shy and nervous. As he looked into Daerundros' eyes he blushed and rapidly looked down, clutching his sword tightly.
"Mae govannen, Glawarion. Might you be so kind as to tell me why exactly you have knocked if you do not wish to look at me?" Daerundros smirked, slightly amused.
Squeaking in nervousness, the young elf rapidly brought his head up and looked at Daerundros with a mingle of respect, admiration, and even... fear.
Daerundros could tell Glawarion was interested in her. His posture, his behaviour when she was around... it all pointed to a liking based on fascination and admiration. She had seen him act when she was not around: He would be calm, strikingly bold for his age, and kind. But in her presence he would lose all of these qualities as his nerves surfaced and set him on the edge.
But Daerundros felt pity for this bright student of hers. She could not reciprocate - thinking herself to be too old for such a young elf, barely of age - and her first and foremost focus was on her occupation. She had no time for pursuits of love and kindred spirits. Not yet. Perhaps in time, she would find someone whom she could love and admire. Someone who was worthy of her. But for now, she was Daerundros, Officer of a Band of Elven-Sentries. The role of a Housewife was not yet for her to be.
"Umm.... hîril... I have been told to tell you that you must make haste with your preparations for the patrol." The sound of Glawarion's voice brought her back from her thoughts into reality, and she nodded curtly.
"Understood, trainee. You are now excused." And as Glawarion turned to leave, she added after him, "And more composure! You may admire my face when you and I are both not on-duty!" But Glawarion had already run down the path towards the marketplace, out of earshot. Daerundros shrugged.
Maybe I will find something interesting during my patrol. She thought to herself, slinging her supplies over her back and striding out the door and into the glorious sunrise of Arien and her star.
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