[Temple] One who was lost [Venn]

[Larien Gil'dae]

3rd brightening in the Month of Kalendryas, Winter
Era I of the Celestine Mandate, Era XV Post Fractum

Larien had surely lost her mind. I need his help, she argued mentally with herself even as the other part of her brain, the sensible side, scoffed back: You will only hurt yourself and you will hurt him. He is happily married now. He doesn't need ghosts from his past coming to haunt him. It was true. Even gazing upwards towards the Temple of the Blessed Hands caused her heart to throb painfully... what would happen when she actually saw him again? Above all else, no matter what might happen, she had to remain strong. Yester-brightening had seen her weak and faltering, little more than a crying wreck as she found out and came to terms with the news that her beloved cousin Tito was alive. She would not cry in front of Venn. She would not even mention the past. She was no longer the woman who held his heart -- she had released him from his prior commitment to her some time ago -- and she had come to terms with that fact.

The time right after her rescue from the bandits had been a very trying time, indeed. Not only had she heard the news that Motito was dead, but then her betrothed had admitted to her that in her absence, his heart had found another. She had seen how torn he was and she knew that even if they tried to go back to the way things were before, there would always be that part of him that loved the other woman. She hadn't wanted him to be torn. She hadn't wanted him to fret over which one of them he should choose -- Larien, his first love, or Avrie, the woman who had taken her place. So, the young elven woman had taken the only path she had seen at that time. She had removed one of his choices so that her beloved wouldn't have to make that heart-breaking choice for himself.

Larien would regret that brightening for the rest of her long, long life.

But there was no going back, only going forward, and go forward she would. She would find little comfort in being Venn's friend, but having him as a friend would be better than not having him at all. She trusted him fully, even with her own life, and when she was in need of advice or aid -- as the case was in that moment -- she knew she could turn to him. She would remain strong. She would not cry. She would not bring up the past... but by the gods, if only she could turn back time. She would spend every brightening with him, never leaving his side for more than a few candlemarks. She would remind him every moment, through actions or words, how much she loved him, how much she appreciated him, how much he meant to her. Stop it, she reprimanded herself even as the young woman blinked away the tears that had started to form. Stop being silly. You can't go back. You're just going to make yourself sick with 'what if's and 'if only's.

The rest of her journey to the Temple she spent in mental silence as a trained numbness began to settle upon the elven maiden until she thrummed with calm and indifference rather than her usual fire and passion. She would not make this trip any harder than it had to be. She would remain strong. She would not cry. She would not bring up the past. It was like a mantra she repeated to herself as her booted feet fell upon the ground, carrying her lithe form methodically closer and closer to her end destination until finally, she was within. Larien was immediately taken with the beauty of the temple, with the peacefulness located therein. Despite the fact that the young woman had been born and raised beneath the trees of Natura, she had not spent nearly enough time within the temple -- a fact she was beginning to regret as her eerily light green eyes swept along the interior, caressing over every square inch as she tried to commit it to memory.

On that brightening, she was wearing the simplest of outfits -- a loose blouse of white cotton with lacing at the chest and a pair of closely cut brown breeches with her brown riding boots pulled over. She didn't think Venn had ever seen her in anything other than a dress, so her appearance could very well startle him a little, but she hadn't wished to wear any of her finer gowns for fear of possibly intimidating her ex-fiance. She had left her cloak back at the inn -- and had thoroughly regretted it during her walk -- so the young woman spent her first few moments within the temple rubbing at her numb arms to bring some life back to them. Her angular cheeks were flushed with the chill of the season but with something else as well -- knowledge of what she was about to do. Her pale green eyes, unique to only her, her father, and her half-brother Eladrian, shone with a light of their own behind her thick eyelashes as she continued to gaze about her with a sense of quiet appreciation. Her long auburn hair, usually in a neat plait down her back, was on that occasion windswept and tumbling over her shoulders in a wild cascade of red, brown, and gold. In her current state, she hardly looked like Arwen Larien Gil'dae of the Syl'rosyan Combine... except for the pendant she wore around her neck. A miniature of the Gil'dae crest, shining in silver and gold, rested there at her throat on a chain of white gold. It was the only reminder she had left on her person of her new life.

As a man passed her by, Larien smiled and stepped forward, attempting to catch his attention. "Vedui... I am looking for Venn Drega. Is he about?"

[Venn Drega]

The room that had once been his quarters had been converted into an office with a sitting area. He spent less time at the Temple now, preferring to be present when attending to temple business or providing training but the cold season found him more often inside the great basilica of Natura. Winter had arrived and the work on the house he was building slowed considerably due to the season. He was also planning a trip to Eunesia with his sister when the weather was better. But these things were put aside for the moment as he looked over the roster of squires and paladins. There were reports to read on the progress of these new additions to the Order of the Silver Star and he would be holding conferences with each of them.

It was with some enthusiasm then with which he greeted the knock at the door. He looked up from the sheaf of papers listing the armory's inventory and called out, "Come in!" The first face was that of Wren Gyrren, a monk who was well known for his extraordinary skill in illumination of texts. It was rare for the middle-aged man to be wandering about as he kept mostly to the scriptorium and so his appearance was a bit of a surprise for the Temple Commander. The second person, however, made the surprise of the first pale in comparison, which made the words of greeting on the paladin's lips stop short.

She was as beautiful as ever. It was her sparkling emerald eyes he looked to first as always. Venn rose to his feet, but inside he was staggered by the weight of memory and history between them. He would always carry within him the twinge of guilt and ever wonder at what might have been. But that was the past and he had traveled the path the way fated for him and those around him. He had even eventually left aside his acute anger at the bandit responsible for kidnapping her although his severe punishment did bring satisfaction. There was always a place in his heart for the elf-maid although it was a place he would deny. "Larien," he breathed.

It became obvious that Wren was not here to see him but served only as a guide. Already the reclusive academic was turning wordlessly toward the door, having accomplished his task and eager to return with his fresh inks to the text he was working on. "Thank you, Brother Gyrren," Venn called after him, to which the monk smiled and nodded before closing the door behind him, leaving the two alone with the ghost of their past to haunt them.

Venn cleared his throat and motioned to one of the chairs in front of the crackling hearth. He had noticed the manner of Larien's dress and deduced that she was traveling. He himself wore his usual simple tunic and trousers. Little changed for Venn, he was a man of consistency. "Would you like some tea?" he asked, his eyes never leaving hers even as he moved towards the tea-tray. He assembled everything deftly and brought the tray to the small table by the chairs. When Larien had settled, he added hot water from a kettle by the fire to the teapot and sat in the chair beside her. She was so familiar to him, the tilt of her head, the curve of her face, the smell of her hair. And yet everything was different now.

"It is good to see you again, Larien," he said quietly with a pause. "But now then, what news, and what brings you here?" he said with a subtle change in tone that attempted to shed the nostalgia albeit unsuccessfully.

[Larien Gil'dae]

He was just as handsome as she had remembered.

"Venn," she stumbled over his name, her melodious voice little more than a whisper as she stared into his midnight eyes. "It has been... too long." So caught up in the moment was she that Larien didn't even notice when the monk that had led her there left the room. In the young woman's mind, they had been alone from the start. "I have thought of you often." The words were past Larien's lips before she could stop them... and immediately after speaking them, she wished to take them back. The blush that crept up from the hollow of her neck traveled slowly as it flamed over her angular cheeks, painting her pale skin a delicate shade of pink... yet, she could not look away. It had been too long -- far too long -- since their last meeting. She didn't want to waste a single moment averting her gaze in embarrassment when she could instead be drinking him in.

"Yes... tea... thank you..." Her pale emerald gaze never shifting from his, Larien moved to sit in the offered seat, immediately grateful as the warmth from the hearth curled against her chilled skin. Rubbing absentmindedly at her arms, the young woman waited on the edge of the chair until Venn drew near with the tray. She could smell his scent, that heavy musk that had intoxicated her so many times in the past. It was all she could do to resist falling under its spell then.

Her fingers ran nervously through her long auburn hair as she continued to watch him, her eyes caressing slowly across the line of his nose, the angle of his cheek, the curve of his jaw. In her absence from Natura, she had forgotten the extent of Venn's good looks... he was breath-taking. For at least a handful of long moments, the young woman forgot her purpose in coming. Had it been possible or even productive, she would have sat there all through the brightening studying him quietly. But it was not to be. Eventually, Larien's memory returned and she shifted deeper into the seat, her pale hands folding in her lap as she continued to regard her ex-fiance with her eerily light green eyes.

"I have come to you on this brightening as a friend, Venn... a friend that needs your help. Word has traveled to the ears of my cousin Calairiel about suspicious movement coming from the Orcs. We do not trust them... I am being sent in her place to speak with the Regent in Prime in regards to these rumors... though afterwards, I was planning to travel to the source of these rumors to find out the exact nature of this suspicious movement for myself." Pausing, Larien rubbed her pale hands over her legs in an almost nervous caress as she dropped her gaze from Venn's for a split second before returning her pale green eyes to his midnight once more. "I am not afraid," she whispered, her voice ringing true for indeed, Larien could only speak the truth. "But I do not wish to go alone. I have a few of the Gil'dae Quicksilver Guard in my company, but I still do not feel like that is enough... especially if the Regent assigns them to some other task and they are not free to travel with me on my scouting mission. I was hoping... I was hoping you could help me. I was hoping to find a few paladins that could travel with me to help me scout out the situation..."

Her voice trailing off, Larien swallowed against the dryness of her throat before continuing, her voice quiet with her silent pain at what she was to say next. "I would not ask you to leave your wife, but I was hoping you could help me all the same."

[Venn Drega]

There was an awkward silence as he prepared her tea in exactly the same way he remembered her liking it. It was an act of pure instinct that once he had started and realized his presumption, he simply carried on until it was ready. He made himself one as well before offering a cup and saucer to Larien. He listened the entire time but without looking at her. He knew she was watching him and he averted his own gaze for the same reason she did not. It was a past he had locked away and was unprepared to broach at the moment. So he played the role of an old friend for that was, at the very least, what they were.

Orcs. He had encountered his fair share of them, mostly at the opposite end of the sword, but there was the odd extraordinary one that he did not need to kill. He had not thought them capable of posing as a threat to the Elves although he knew there was no love lost between the two races but times were changing. He sat up as his posture became more rigid. Larien had posed a question to him that addressed the commander of the Temple and he needed to consider her request as such. He nodded at the snippets of information she gave and pursued the matter more. "Hmmmm, whereabouts are these Orcs sighted and have you any estimate of numbers? Are you providing a simple report to Milo... I mean the Regent or will you be requesting troops at this time? How many Gil'dae guards do you have with you and how many Silver Stars would help to fill your ranks?" His stream of questions were a simple matter of military and political logistics and the manner in which he delivered them were precise. He regretted his tone almost immediately but not because it was inappropriate but because he had never spoken to Larien this way before and it made him uncomfortable. These were assessments that were unavoidable, however.

He did finally fix her in his gaze to gauge how she took his queries. She had changed and matured. He could tell by the look in her eyes and her posture. She had been entrusted with the responsibility of an important mission to discover if the Orcs were merely migrating or mobilizing for something more sinister. He detected a strength within her that was dormant before. He was proud of her and glad all at once. "Do trust, however, if there is a need the Temple will seek to help. The Silver Stars are ever prepared to serve the purposes of our fellow citizens," he said with a reassuring smile. "I just need to have a good understanding of the situation."

"By the way, how is Calariel? What is she doing these days?" he probed before mentioning another delicate matter. "And I have heard certain rumors about Motito..." He left it at that, not sure if he wished to probe the matter further if in fact his sources were incorrect. He knew how much she loved her kin and how heart-broken she was at the news of his death.

[Larien Gil'dae]

In all irony, Larien had never encountered an Orc in person... but she had seen her fair share of what they were capable of. She had been to Paxia. She had seen the tumbled ruins of the buildings, the rubble lining the streets. She had seen the rows upon rows of tents where those whose homes had been destroyed had to live while everything was being rebuilt. She had seen the innocent mourning the loss of their loved ones. She had seen it all... and she had grown angry. One of Larien's most surprising and yet most defining features was her passion. When one first looked upon the delicate she-elf, their first impression was surely that she was too timid or gentle to be fierce in any form or fashion. But once her passion was awakened... once she had a cause to fight for... Larien was as dangerous -- or perhaps even more so -- than the wildest of animals. In all honesty, as far as the young woman knew, the Orcs were doing nothing more than stirring restlessly and meant no harm by their movements... but if there was a chance, even the smallest of chances, that what happened to Paxia could happen again, Larien wouldn't be picking up the pieces. No, she would be there during the heat of the moment, trying to change the course of the outcome as much as she possibly could.

Accepting the offered cup and saucer, the young woman cradled the tea close to her body, blowing lightly upon the hot surface of the liquid before taking a careful sip. He had made it just how she liked it. She was touched by his memory of her preferences... though the moment did not last as Venn became all business. It was a side of him she had never seen before -- the commander side -- for he had always been nothing more than simply Venn in his dealings with her in the past. But Larien took it all in stride, taking another sip of her tea before carefully setting it on the table between them. Her eerily light green eyes flashed as she considered his questions. "Within Sheria," she lilted, her own posture becoming stiffer to match that of the half-Thelyri. "We have very little intelligence gathered on the matter beyond the rather vague and simple knowledge that 'the Orcs are up to something.' I know for many this would not be cause enough to grow wary... but I have seen enough of what they are capable of to feel that my caution and suspicion with the matter is warranted."

Just as Venn had stepped into his role of the commander of the Temple during their meeting, Larien shed her quiet familiarity with the other and her old status as a child of Natura to become Arwen Larien Gil'dae of the Syl'rosyan Combine, temporary spokesperson for the Arwen of House Gil'dae and those that aligned themselves with their House. "I will be offering what help the Gil'daes can provide to the Regent, though it is a very small number. I have the Quicksilver Guard with me, only five individuals, though five rather capable individuals. I also have three other persons of the Gil'dae staff that will be of some help due to their skills. Eight elves -- nine, if we are including myself. I can not speak for Syl'rosya, though I can speak for the Gil'daes when I say that if the exact nature of this movement of the Orcs had been known -- and had been threatening -- we would have done more in recruiting aid to send... but seeing as all we have is the whisper of a rumor and our own wariness, we have only the means to send our personal guard. However, if our suspicions are correct, I have full faith in my cousin in her abilities to rally our people." Larien was sure that some would find it odd for Syl'rosyans jumping to the aid of the Empire... but personally, the young elven woman didn't see why not. Motito had been good friends with many currently involved in the running of the Empire. He himself had even served at one point. So then, why would the Gil'daes not wish to be of assistance to the current Regent?

"In the same vein, I do not wish to ask for any large number of men or women from Natura. If our suspicions are false, mobilizing a small army would surely be a bad move... for it might cause higher tensions to arise between the Empire and the Orcs. I do not wish to cause a problem -- merely to solve it if one has already been started. I only wish to scout at this time and see for myself what is going on. A small company -- three to five persons -- I think would be best, though you have had more experience in such matters, so I'd trust your judgement. Such a number could easily be passed off as a personal guard if such... deception was needed. However..." leaning forward slightly in her seat, Larien rested her slender hands on her knees as she regarded Venn with a soft intensity. "If we have reason to be wary of the Orcs... I would be certain to send word back to request more aid both from Syl'rosya and Natura." Larien had yet to learn of the Veil breaking her home off from the rest of the Empire... she would be very devastated indeed when she realized she was stranded from the rest of her family.

As Venn's questions turned to more personal matters, the young woman relaxed somewhat, even pausing to take a few more sips of tea before answering. "Calairiel is well... she is with child." There wasn't much else she could report in regards to her cousin, for the elven maiden had avoided the Arwen of their House for much of the time she had been within the Cheb. Her pale fingers moving to the pendant of the Gil'dae crest about her neck, Larien stroked along the surface of the beautiful silver and gold piece. She longed to tell Venn of her discovery of her two half-brothers -- Eladrian whom she loathed and Eraisuithon whom she loved... but the familiarity between them wasn't the same as before. There seemed to be a space between them, a horrible and gaping space that seemed to grow larger and larger the farther apart their paths took them from each other. At the mention of Motito, however, Larien's pale green eyes widened in visible surprise. She had only recently discovered that her cousin was not indeed dead... but it had been her understanding that Telath at large still believed him to be so. True, Natura was a rather small town and rumors could spread quickly and fiercely, but surely Motito hadn't been recognized? Platinum hair in itself wasn't that big of a give away for there were many elves with such hair... though the combination of platinum hair and quicksilver eyes was purely Gil'dae. But surely one wouldn't automatically assume such a person wandering through Natura to be the "deceased" Motito Gil'dae? Regardless of where Venn had heard such a rumor, Larien had given her word to her dear cousin to keep his secret. Her curse would keep her to her word. It was a delicate balance to not reveal Motito's status of being among the living while still telling the truth... but it was a balance she would be forced to keep.

"I have heard no such rumors..." she lilted quietly, for indeed, she hadn't. "The last rumor I heard concerning my cousin was the one about his death."