D&D Way to Sword Coast

Chapter 19: Laugh

Her face shot up and their eyes met; amber irises slicing into blue. "Y-you don't..." she stammered. Gripping the edges of her tunic. "You won't be n-n-needing...me?" Her eyes shown with relief. There was no ignoring the glimmer of hope in a sea of pessimism.

Slowly he nodded before dismissing her. Bowing she entered the office and lay on the double-layered bedrolls. Wrapping the blanket about her she turned away from the Dragonborn. He couldn't tell if Lesmythe had fallen asleep, but she did remain still.

That would explain the low cost. Aside from being sickly the half-elf was damaged goods. Jumpier than a jackrabbit, it was a miracle the woman could perform basic tasks. Alidorim needed to know she could take care of Yulia. Either fear of him or the slave crest would hinder any attempt to teach her and Lesmythe had to learn or she wouldn't be of any use to him.

Sighing he resumed his wash. The lye soap did its job. Instead of smelling like an outhouse he settled for the scent of damp ash mixed with lard. He'd have to properly tend his gear later. Even as he set aside the basin and rag his eyes were already starting to droop. Slumber claimed him before his head had even touched the mattress.

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A dreamless night later and Alidorim found himself waking to the noonday sun. Alarmed he sat up to find himself alone. Leaping to his feet he ran to the office door and flung it open. He managed to suppress the sigh of relief when he found Yulia and Lesmythe sitting across from one another. They looked to be in mid-conversation. Between them sat his armor. Despite having just woken he was able to deduce that the girls were in the middle of cleaning his equipment. If the smell bothered them, they gave no indication.

Lesmythe hastily stood and bowed, but Yulia remained seated. She was looking at Alidorim with confusion and a little surprise. Had she not expected him to be awake so soon?

As any question about their activities would've been redundant Alidorim instead settled for annoyance. "You should've woken me," he growled.

Lesmythe started to sputter an apology when Yulia glared at him. "You awake all night," she declared, "You needed sleep." A sly smile crept across her face. "Father snore."

Heat burst across his expression. The half-elf squeaked in surprise at the girl's words. "I do not snore Yulia," he stated gripping the doorframe tightly. The Tiefling would not be deterred.

"You do snore!" she retorted. She flung her head back before making loud snorting growls that took him by surprise. The Dragonborn could only assume she was attempting to mimic his sleeping habits. Blush deepening, he growled in annoyance, but Yulia just smiled and continued on her overly dramatized mimicry.

Alidorim was about to chastise her when he noticed something was off with Lesmythe. The woman had both hands clapped over her mouth and her eyes screwed tight. Face red, her shoulders quivered uncontrollably. Lesmythe...was laughing...

Noticing the effect her actions were having, Yulia leaped to her feet. Lifting her hands as if she were carrying two swords, her expression twisted into one of utter seriousness. "Yulia, I not snore!" she said in as deep a voice as she could muster, "I sleep like quiet rabbit!" She turned on the half-elf and released an almighty growl. That was too much for Lesmythe to handle and she burst out into fits of wheezing laughter. Pretty soon Yulia was giggling right alongside the half-elf.

His embarrassment complete, Alidorim turned and stomped to the door. When Yulia asked where he was going the Dragonborn snapped, "to eat."

"Master...we-we...brought you a tray earlier," Lesmythe gasped still trying to compose herself.

Still, flustered Alidorim hadn't noticed that they had indeed brought him some food. "Well...I'll just," he growled in frustration, "Eat it downstairs!" Even through the closed door, he could still hear the girl's laughter, and he couldn't decide whether he despised it...or...Nope! He definitely despised it!

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The sun was still high by the time Alidorim returned to the room. Lesmythe and Yulia had managed to reign in there humor long enough to finish cleaning the master's armor. The half-elf was worried she might've upset the Dragonkin, but how else could she react to Yulia's antics. At first, she was afraid Alidorim would visit his wrath upon them. She'd seen other parents do so on thier disobedient children. Instead, he'd blushed...he had actually blushed...and left the room.

When he did return, he neither spoke nor looked at them. Instead, he went about packing their bags. Given his earlier irritation, Lesmythe was hesitant to inquire into his thoughts. Fortunately, Yulia had no such restraint. "We leaving father?" she asked. Alidorim grunted by way of acknowledgment. "We leave Neverwinter?"

"To gather herbs," he said in a low voice. When he noticed Yulia's worried expression, the angles of his face softened. Sighing he knelt to her level. "We're out of medicine. I need to make more for you and Lesmythe." Yulia seemed pleased with his answer and moved to help. The half-elf stared at him in stunned silence. Had he just included her in his estimate? Did he actually...care?

"Lesmythe!" his voice cut through her thoughts making the woman jump. Alidorim was glaring at her. Pointing towards the blankets and bedrolls, he said, "Pack." Stumbling out an apology she hastily obeyed.

"What was I thinking?" she sighed inwardly, "All he wants is a healthy slave." She was his property and he intended to get his money's worth. The very thought made her cringe and shiver.

At the front counter, they spoke to the Innkeeper about closing out their room. Around the tavern, she noticed some additional Patrons were present. Rough looking types wearing light armor and weapons. Some eyed Alidorim with suspicion and scorn, while others leered unrepentantly at her and Yulia. Swallowing a nervous lump, she shielded the girl from view.

The final payment made the trio turned to leave. After only a couple of steps, Alidorim halted. One of the thugs had propped his leg upright in their path. His two companions chuckled. The Dragonborn growled before nudging the leg aside and continuing towards the door.

The man made a show of being pushed aside before standing. "Watch where ya going scaly!" he shouted squaring up to Alidorim blocking their path. "How can I work with a busted ankle?" His outraged expression morphed into lust as it drifted down to Lesmythe. Chuckling he said, "Maybe your slave can make it feel better." Yulia whimpered and huddled behind the Dragonborn.

"You have the little one," one of his companions chided, "You can spare the mongrel." A few other patrons laughed. The slur made Lesmythe blanch and look towards the floor. To her surprise, Alidorim joined in the laughter. Then she realized his laugh wasn't full of ill humor. It was deep and without joy.

Glaring down at the thug he growled, "I doubt you could reach even her lowest standards." The man looked at him in a mixture of anger and confusion. The Dragonborn continued. "Your behavior is amusing. I can't help but laugh." The man cursed but didn't get another word out. Alidorim's hands shot out and grabbed the front of his armor. The man's feet left the ground as he was hauled up to eye level. Lesmythe could only stare in surprise. Other patrons and the Innkeeper also gawked with mouths agape.

The thug gaged and clawed at the Dragonborn's arms. "Not so funny when you can't breathe," the master said in a low threatening tone. "Pathetic!" he growled before turning and flinging the man aside. The thug tumbled across a table before crashing to the floor. His companions leaped to their feet but were unsure what to do. Glaring at them Olkith said, "Anyone else have something funny to say about my companions?" The room was quiet save for the moans of the thug on the floor. With a growl, Alidorim lead them out of the Inn.

As they left Lesmythe heard a series of curses follow them out. It seemed they wouldn't be welcomed back to the Cooked Goose anytime soon.

"Father?" Yulia said, "Why you fight ugly man?" Lesmythe's ears quirked up at the question. Alidorim could've easily avoided the fight and they still would've had a cheap place to stay. A slave's honor wasn't worth much so why engage the drunkard?

After a few moments of silent contemplation, Alidorim finally answered. "He wanted what's mine," he growled, glancing sideways at Lesmythe, "No one will ever take from me again." The intensity of his tone made her shiver. He had described them as his property and yet he would allow no slight towards them. It was an odd contradiction to his attitude in the slave tent. Had that been an act? Or was this the act?

Julia smiled taking hold of the master's hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Thank you, father." Such a strange pair. Who were these people?