* * *
Smaragaid pulled his cloak tighter as he entered the brightly lit room. He didn't particularly like Lady Maliar, but she was siabra. Not like Maloric. Maloric was Seelie.
The little lurikeen growled to himself. Curse that champion. He still niggled at Smaragaid's mind with his foolishness and non-understanding. He had claimed it was because he trusted one who served because they wanted to more than a thrall, when it came to having them guard his back. What did Maloric know of thralls? Did he think that after millenia of being thrall to House Nau, Smaragaid served when he didn't want to?
Did he think that he could ever trust Smaragaid at his back after what he said?
Lady Maliar tilted her head slightly and looked down at him. She spoke melodiously, as all elves did. "What brings you here, Thrall Smaragaid?"
"Jus' wan' ta tell ya dat Lord Maloric t'inks you hold de Delegation only because no one has challenged ya," He had rehearsed the line to himself, making sure he got all the details correct. Wouldn't do to lie to a siabra.
She set her quill down. "You're not known for carrying tales, Thrall Smaragaid."
"No' known for no'." He gazed up at her guilelessly, playing up his accent. Remind her that he was just a simple lurikeen thrall with no plans of his own. He lived to serve the siabra.
She nodded and picked up her quill again.
"He doesna see it, does he, lady?" He had to ask. He had to know that it was true. He had to know that she wasn't what Maloric said she was.
She smiled slightly and dipped her quill. "If he sees weakness in my leadership, then he sees true."
"An' if dat's all he sees?"
"Then he would not last long at Court." Lady Maliar wrote something on the parchment before her, paused, and glanced at him. "Do not concern yourself overly much with him."
Smaragaid adjusted his feathered hat. "Aye, lady. Dere are wheels wit'in wheels an' fires wit'in fires, an' ya leave meddlin' wit' dem to dose who care."
She laughed, a pure trill of sound that sent a shock through him. When did he last hear a female elf laugh? Lady Sariell...!
"Quite right, Smaragaid, quite right." Maliar rolled the scroll up and bound it with a black ribbon. She sealed it with white wax and pressed her seal into it. "Could you deliver this to Lord Venadin? He should find it of interest."
Smaragaid took the scroll carefully and tucked it away. He could deliver a missive from one mage to another. Perhaps she spoke of magic, or perhaps of information critical to the Delegation, but they were both siabra mages and worthy. "Aye, lady."
The End