And We Smiled, Our Faces Like a Mirror

[Damask the Minstrel]

?Stop, bird.? The voice, more than the command made Damask freeze in place. Giving a small sigh, he turned, his eyes resting on the fox captain. The beast took another step forward, angling himself in front of the entrance to main cavern. ?Did you think I'd forgotten??

Damask couldn't help a wry grin and replied with a light tone, ?Well, to be honest--?

Matukhana's footpaw jabbed out once, connecting with the bird's stomach. Inky blackness began to devour his vision as the bird doubled over. Pain lanced through through his gut and he laid on the floor, beak opening and closing as he ineffectually gasped for air.

?Listen well,? the fox's tone was genteel as he spoke, leaning down and dusting orange down from the tip of his boot, ?I don't trifle with the little details, bird. And you are a little detail.?

He gave the bird a nudge. ?So, as soon as we get out of here, I'll personally tear off the tips of your wings and crush your throat.?

?Wait...?

The fox's tone was still jocular as he leaned back against the wall, a grin on his muzzle. ?I don't think you understand me, Damask. Perhaps, I should be clearer.?

The boot came down on the tips of one wing. Damask found his voice at last.

He screamed as he felt the bones of his wing tip give way under the blow. His stomach forgotten, the bird clutched the wing to his chest, whimpering at the burning that was working its way up his wing with the slightest ruffle of each feather.

?I have no interest in anything you have to say.? The fox spun on his heel and began to leave.

?There are two groups of beasts.?

The fox stopped and turned. His jaw was set as he replied, ?You just don't understand...?

The bird continued, hopping forward, ?Two groups of beasts who are fighting constantly. In a set of caves. Think about it.?

The fox paused and regarded the bird with slitted eyes. He nodded.

?What else would they be fighting over? The choicest patch of moss? That cave full of delectable mushrooms a few leagues yonder? Think, fox.?

Matukhana gave a snort, his voice mocking, ?Still just words, eh, bird??

The fox turned and left. Damask relaxed, sinking to his haunches as he began to gingerly preen the crushed feathers of his wing. He tensed as a voice cut through the cave, surrounding him with echoes, ?You still ought to watch your back when we get out of here.?

And so our clever, brave, intrepid bird
Did fool Matukhana with his guile
And with his wits he twisted ev'ry word
And so disarmed him with naught but a smile.

The bird finished rearranging his plumage and shook himself, leaving the side-passage. On his way out, he passed by a squirrel who gave his wing a critical look before commenting, ?I'm thinking we should just stick to the main chamber from now on.?

He gave a snort as a reply and made his way over to a low table, settling himself down and spreading the wing out to further inspect his plumage. Not too bad... I could still fly if we were outside. In here, however...

But you are stuck here... in this forsaken hole, Softleaves whispered, tickling his tympani.

Damask took a few deep breaths, testing his bruised abdomen. No stabbing pain, just a low throb from the blow. ?True. But at least she's in it.?

You mean the marteness?

?Yes.?

The one leading Venril's second-in-command into a side-tunnel in a decidedly maiden-like manner?

Damask had largely ignored the movement in the room while he examined himself, but at the subconscious mention of Eliza, his eyes shot up. He was just quick enough to see his maiden grinning back over her shoulder as she--

Yes, Damask, she was sashaying.

The bird hopped up, holding his wing tight against his body as he paced on top of the table. Should he follow? But what could he say? ?I'll stay,? Damask said aloud, looking about the empty chamber. ?I'll stay until she comes out. Then we'll talk. Just... I'm sure it can't be what I think it is.?

And so, the minutes passed, but only just. The bird hopped from table to floor and began to pace in an erratic hopskip, glancing every few seconds at the empty entrance.

?She couldn't...?

A gasp interrupted the latest batch of muttering and Damask's turned to see her--

And fram?d was the maid by squalid cave
It made her radiance grow ever bright.
?Oh maiden fair, why do you look surprised?
And turn your face and hide now from my sight??

?Err, Damask, right?? Damask felt a surge of pride that she remembered his name -- a lady with as many suitors as she! The marten's voice was soft as she sat on a nearby bench. She looked up at him with gently tilted eyebrows, which created a small wrinkle on her forehead. While her expression was concerned, the bird could almost detect the slightest smirk beneath. She must like the attention!

?Mi'lady, I just-- I was wondering...? The bird's eyes flitted back and forth to the entrance.

At first the jill looked confused, but then comprehension and horror flitted across her features, ?You mean... that brute and I? Heavens no!? She placed the back of a paw against her brow, looking affronted at the very idea. It seemed odd ?  not the reaction he had come to expect from Eliza, but it fit; that was certainly a damsel-like pose.

?Well, that's a relief,? the bird replied, his mood beginning to lighten already. ?I was worried about what he might try with a fair maiden like yourself about. I imagine he doesn't see too many.?

She rewarded that remark with a smirk. ?Indeed, not.?

Success again! She seemed more receptive than last time. A lack of fleeing helped, for sure. Though she still seemed troubled and not at all talkative. Try a simple compliment, perhaps. ?You look beautiful, madame.?

Elzia gave a ladylike snort of derision, plucking at the hem of her gown, ?Ah, yes. I do pull off tattered and mud-speckled, don't I??

?Well, miss Eliza, if I may,? the bird began, as he hopped to the tabletop next to her. ?it is not the dress that wears you...?

A small chuckle arose from her, ?You never give up, do you?? She rose, looking down at the bird, ?Everything has to be a compliment...?

?Well, you do deserve them.?

?If you insist,? the marten replied, batting her lashes once.

?If my lady wishes,? Damask bowed low, speaking with as much confidence as he could muster, ?I composed another sonnet for you. If I may??

Eliza nodded once, and settled back into her seat. He gazed into her upturned face and gulped once, hard. Clearing his throat, he closed his eyes and began.

Eliza, how that name doth make me swoon!
For when 'tis spoken from this lowly beak
It makes my breath to catch, my pulse goes weak;
Each moment 'part from you is like a wound.
For like a tiny columbine in bloom,
Forced to the shade. Yet it shall always seek
The golden sun. Like it, I may seem meek,
Yet for thee would I give my very plume!

Oh maiden fair, if I could give you wings,
I'd show you all the wonders of the skies,
But even then, I'd be the richest bird.
For though those wonders still might make me sing
'Tis nothing like the love that does arise
At mention of your name, that bless?d word.

Damask opened them to a smiling marteness. As she gave him a small, but enthusiastic, round of applause, Damask felt the world grow unsteady.

It was as if her smile did shake his core
He saw his love return?d in this sight,
And so he sat back with a daz?d look.
The maiden fair did ask, ?Are you all right??

?Damask?? Eliza almost sounded... concerned.

He was beaming as he sat back up and explained, ?It was simply, miss Eliza ?  well, your smile was dazzling is all.?

She rolled her eyes, ?Oh, come on. My smile took your breath away??

?Yes,? he said.

She brought a paw to her cheeks, as if to hide a blush, ?Thank you, Damask.?

?Oh, miss Eliza, I would sing your praises for hours, but,? the bird's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper as he continued, ?there are matters of some urgency I wish to speak about.?

?What is it??

?Well, it is about that Venril character. I fear for you when he is about.? The bird looked up at one of the entrances. When his eyes came back to rest on Eliza, she had a paw over her muzzle, Damask reached out a wing to her. ?I know, it's hard to believe, as I saw him speaking with you earlier.?

Eliza gave a dainty cough, a smile playing across the edges of her lips, her voice tinkled like a bell as she stifled a giggle, ?Oh Damask, do not fear for me; Venril is harmless.? Her eyes leveled at his. ?Besides, I have my gallant knight to protect me, yes??

Of course! Why, I would fight legions of suitors and rescue you from durance vile! I would find the rarest treasures! I would compose the most beauteous sonnets! I would live and die for only you! Between mind and beak a mistranslation occurred: ?Err...?

?Damask.? Her face suddenly became serious and she leaned in close, her dark eyes catching the torchlight.

?Yes?? His pulse took on a staccato beat in his head, almost drowning out her next words.

?Thank you for everything.? She laid a small peck on the side of his beak.

Again, the world started to spin around Damask, and the bird sat back on his haunches. Eliza stood and gave him another smile, then turned and began to walk away. Damask hid his beak in the crook of his good wing, willing the blood to leave his cheeks. She kissed me! She... she loves me!

He, of course, missed the marten scrubbing her muzzle with the back of a paw as she moved away.