You Don't Realize But I'm Already Gone (Camarat/Elske)

[Harbor]

Elske was familiar with the irritation of being in prison. She hadn’t been caught stealing in decades, but that didn’t stop people from recognizing her for who she was when she went through a town for one reason or another. Those ones usually surprised her, as she had given up trying to watch and judge everybody at once. It was exhausting. And sometimes she felt her age and just couldn’t be bothered.

What always surprised people was how her face had been artist-aged on some of the wanted posters—not all—because some towns realized she’d been on their list for far longer than most anyone else, and recognized that she must have gained a few more lines since the posters had last been updated. Elske was rarely caught in these smarter towns, as she looked closer to her late twenties or early thirties—it depended on the day—but in the towns where her poster hadn’t changed, and she was caught, and the jailers happened to have seen her name on ‘updated’ posters elsewhere, they were always shocked. No one typically bothered to look at the specifics, they just knew she was a criminal, a murderer supposedly. But if they leaned in and squinted at the year, then they grew unnerved, and Elske would grant them a rare smile.

It wasn’t usually long after her captures that she was placed in solitary confinement, as she or another prisoner often started the sort of tussle or ruckus that encouraged her to be separated, and that suited her well enough. The guards never felt the need to watch her in solitary confinement; what could she possibly get up to? It made it much easier for her to escape.

This prison, however, was larger, more complex, and far more modern than any others she had visited. She had been here for three weeks already and hadn’t found her way out. She would eventually, it was just irritating to be told when to eat and when to come and when to go.

Her grated door squealed inward and Elske lifted her eyes from the tear she was mending with a needle she tucked out of sight.

“Elske. Exercise hour. Let’s go.”

She unthreaded the needle and slid it through the fabric of the straw mattress, standing slowly because moving quickly scared the guards. There wasn’t yet good enough communication between prisons for them to know this was the fourth one she’d been in in the last forty-odd years, or that she’d already been nearly-hanged twice, and that too suited her. Uninformed people were easy to predict.

Since Elske hadn’t caused any trouble since the incident the day she arrived, only two guards escorted her out to the long tunnel of wire fencing reserved for the use of the one in his own special cell, and she was permitted to maintain the use of her hands, not that she bothered to do anything with them at the present time. The men had only leather armor on, but the floorboards in this part of the prison squeaked too much for her to be able to move quickly without guards in other places hearing her. Another day then.

They let her into the wire-fenced exercise yard with everyone else, as evidently she didn't yet warrant her own private place outside. She wasn't sure yet if this satisfied her or not, and returned to the same place as she had the day before and sat against the side facing the palace, scraping away the drier dirt on top of the heavier, rich clay beneath. Wiggling a flattened sack from inside her trousers she used her fingernails to scrape up the darkest veins of clay and dust them into the sack, where she’d siphoned off scraps of grease from her meals to mix it with. When she mixed it thoroughly enough, and found the right sliver of wood, it gave her a heavy ink to draw with.

Someone threw a handful of the dry dirt at her when they saw her carefully drawing several minutes later with some of the finished product, and she ignored them. They were too far away for her to be able to sanction anyway.

When he did it a second time he was closer. Elske was standing in an instant with his arm twisted behind his back and his ear firmly grasped in her hand, having used the rest of her arm to lever his to where he couldn't move it, making him squeal as she pressed his face against the fence. “Am I amusing you?” she wanted to know, folding her parchment one-handed and tucking it back into the front of her vest, down her shirt, and sliding the wood splinter into the bundle of her knotted hair at the base of her head. He wasn't flexible enough to reach her with his free arm, and it amused her faintly to see him try. “Would you like to do it again or will this convince you to play with your other friends for a while? I’m busy right now and can’t play with you myself.”

She used both hands to untangle him and shove him a polite distance away. 

One of his friends got behind her and reached for her hair, and she nearly smiled. 

Elske ducked, coming up inside his arm to plant one hand on his elbow and use the other to yank his arm, pressuring it just enough to strain it, but not enough to destroy the joint, which he may well desire to use again someday. The dirt-thrower came back when the friend yelled, and she spun to kick him in the stomach, putting him down temporarily. 

Her apparent abuse of these two caught the attention of a good portion of the others, and they came trotting over to decide whose side they were on, and so far no one had decided they were on hers. Someone kicked her in the stomach and she flew back a few feet, but managed not to fall. She tangled her arm around someone else's and threw him into one of his brothers. Someone wrapped his arm around her neck so she bent, lifted him by the legs and threw him on his back. A foot to the back of her knee brought her temporarily down but she dove forward into a roll, missing the swings of two other men and coming up behind them to plant a foot in each of their backs. Some worthwhile exercise, at last. At least until the guards decided it was worth their trouble to separate them again. 

{Let me know if I can make any adjustments for you.}

[Aelodil]

The sun was out on its daily routine, its warmth licking the earth as Camarat strode around the palace that contained his and the Council's chambers. For once he didn't have Vasilis strapped to his waist. Instead all he had was his staff, which most people seemed to think of as a walking staff due to how old he looked to be. Not that he minded - he preferred people to think he was toting around a walking staff rather than they knew he was toting around something that only partially acted a walking staff and mostly acted as a catalyst for his power.

Stopping for a moment walking through the halls, he turned to look outside a window as he basked in the sunlight. His hat stood up, with a pointy tip that seemed much the same hats the witches would have in the stories that mothers told to their children. His robe was made of fine quality with a fine hand, along with a slight symbol that marked him a member of the Council.

Stroking his lengthy white beard, he turned his gaze from the horizon to a prisoner that had just been sent out of the cell into the yard inmates were sent to stretch their sore muscles. He eyed her with curiosity as she took something out of a satchel. Soon enough as she began to move through the process he noticed she had made ink. Grunting to himself in a satisfied manner he mumbled under his breath, "Resourceful young girl.."

"I beg your pardon, Sir? Did you say something?" Camarat very nearly jumped at the voice. As it were he maintained a composed appearance and reached with his mind to tell who had spoken before turning around with a warm smile on his face. Many of the people who worked in the palace considered him a very warm old man. Though most also made the mistake to consider him harmless.

"Oh nothing really, Albert. I just seemed to be lost in thought. Must keep an eye out for my sanity as I grow old, eh?" he teased to one of the Guards that guarded the newly preserved order in Alagaesia. The man was young in comparison to Camarat though he was in his prime. Albert wore the special uniform marking the Guards. He was one of the majority who thought Camarat a warm harmless old man. Not that Camarat minded it.

Nodding to himself for whatever reason, Camarat did not know, Albert continued, "Her name is Elske, sir. I've been keeping track on her for a few months now. Seems she's been in and out of prison. Charges are theft and the like. Nothing really serious. You be wary around her." before he gave a slight bow and walked away, leaving Camarat to ponder over that little bit of information.

Deciding finally to go confront the woman - perhaps he would be able to learn some more from her - he paused as he caught a glimpse of someone hurling what seemed to be dirt at her. Raising a bushy white eyebrow, Camarat continued to watch as the man was made short work of. Noticing his lips tighten slightly - Camarat disliked violence unless it was justified and even then it saddened him - Camarat eased himself. The guards would take care of it.

Sure enough, the first man to begin the trouble was basically thrown off to the side. No sooner did he bugger off than another man came over, followed up by what seemed to be a miniature mob. Eyes narrowing, Camarat shifted the fabric of reality around him 'til he was standing next to the woman amidst a sea of angry inmates. Slamming his staff's butt to the ground Camarat cast a small spell to send the inmates flying backwards save Elske. A shout of curses raised from the men knocked back until they noticed who Camarat was. Some paled, others snarled, but all backed off. Talking in a loud yet gentle voice he shouted to the guards, "Enough slacking off. Take the prisoners back to their respective cells." Immediately the guards began to round them up. One of them approached Elske who was still next to Camarat and Camarat shook his head, "I would like to talk with Elske."

After the horde of inmates were taken away, Camarat turned to Elske with a kind and gentle light in his eyes. "Are you alright, child?" and without waiting for an answer he cast a spell to heal her and take away most of her fatigue and exhaustion. Stroking his white beard again, he continued, "Well then, Elske, now that we're peacefully alone would you care to continue drawing whatever it is you were drawing and explain to me your story? Keep in mind I already know that you've been going in and out of prisons for the past while. So, begin from wherever you're comfortable to begin from." It didn't bother him that he was alone with a prisoner - nowadays he wouldn't be scared to stay with any one person no matter who they were.

(Sorry, I've been busy and this post was kinda.. lacking I feel, since I kinda rushed it)

When you die, your world ends. The world may go on, but in your eyes, the world ends with you.

-Carpe Diem

[Harbor]

Elske got back to her feet easily enough, ducking and curling because men never seemed to expect their opponent to actually try to avoid them. This only reinforced her opinion that most people she ran across were fools. Another reached for her hair—did they have nothing else in their arsenal?—and she put a fist into his stomach to convince him not to, kneeing another similarly when he came too close, and putting the biggest one in a comfortable headlock on her right side, since it made it harder for him to pummel said side with his right fist. He had just seen her getting out of this same position yet could not appear to do so himself. Criminals simply weren’t as high-class as they used to be, and it was unfortunate. She didn’t have the patience to teach them.

There came a muffled thump from somewhere beside her and every man engaged against her, including the one she’d claimed in the unforgiving circle of her arm, toppled away from her as though thrown. Elske stood, astonished with the display of what could only be magic, and both furious and dismayed that someone had taken her fight out of her hands. Thief.

She spun when she heard the firm, serene voice from behind her and glowered at the man who had done the speaking, giving him the same up and down that everyone gave her when they realized she was female, and not wearing a skirt. She hadn’t expected a man of his rare age, and neither had she expected the strange contentedness in his eyes. He stood like a middle-aged man at the latest, not with the stiffness and brittle posture of most men with his appearance of years.

Simply because of his magic she already wanted to be rid of his presence and didn’t bother turning entirely to face him, not wanting to encourage whatever mad venture he had decided to engage himself in. The fact that he knew her name was worth a raised brow, but since she hadn’t gone to any pains to ever conceal it it was not yet worth her concern.

Something about the old man shifted, and Elske felt the bruises from the thumps she’d taken dissolve, her stinging scalp from pulled hair ease, and the blood stop trickling sluggishly from her nose. She was able to stand with her shoulders more balanced, lacking the habitual weariness from weeks of thin food, even if she was still hungry from that day’s ‘meal’.

She straightened before he even opened his mouth to speak again and stalked toward the closing door back into the guardhouse. ”Nope. I want to go back to jail too.” The door closed and locked before she even reached it. She growled, slamming her fist against the door so it rattled in its frame. ”Hey! I have the right not to be accosted by strangers.”

The old man didn’t seem to particularly mind her ire. Considering what little—and infuriating—magic she’d already seen him do she made a conscious and visible effort not to lose herself entirely to anger just yet. A true feat. She hoped it payed off and she got out of this alive and in a state she wanted to be in.

She turned back to glower at him again. ”Then your records are incomplete.” She marched back toward him, decidedly not veering around him as she wanted to, and snatched up her bag of clay-ink from where she’d left it beside the fence, squeezing the air out of it and rolling it up before stuffing it back down her trousers. As she yanked her shirt out of said trousers to wipe the blood from her upper lip she asked, ”Do you make a habit of enforcing your desires on other people before knowing their own preferences? Or is that just an aspect of age I have not yet been subjected to?” With a wince she blew the crusted blood out of her nose and briskly tucked the splotched shirt hem back into her waistband, smoothing it over the leather protecting her right side underneath her shirt. Elske eyed him warily once again, obstinate. ”Who has the world told you who are that’s made you think I need to confide in you?”


{Whether or not he's seen and/or understood the purpose of her leather guard when she pulled her shirt up is up to you. She's too irritated to be careful about it like she generally tries to be.}

[Aelodil]

Returning Elske's rather rude glare with his own serene one Camarat gave her a gentle smile. Quickly so that she didn't think he was making fun of her he explained himself, "Not that I find anything amusing, mind." hopefully she could read the message on his mouth's lips with the gentle smile. Having noticed her outrage as he knocked back the horde that had surrounded her he came down to two conclusions: Either she had been enjoying her little fight she had been having, or she hated magic. Or on a side note it could well have been both.

Noticing her slight surprise at him calling her by name he said, "A certain little bird was passing by me in the hall just earlier now and when he noticed me inspecting the situation down here he slipped your name as well as quite a few interesting details about you. Namely the fact that you've been going in and out of jail cells the past few months if not even longer after that."

As she tried to get out after the door was locked with two guards left inside he smiled, this time with amusement, as she tried to get out. He didn't particularly enjoy being so imposing on other people but this time it was a must. And besides, with criminals most things could be bent very slightly. Though he knew never to overstep any of the lines. As she growled and glowered at him, speaking in what most people would consider insulting tones, one of the guards snapped and stepped forward already shouting, "That's no way to treat the man that just likely saved your life and is the second most important man on the Council after Nasuada. Especially when that man could crush you without batting an eye." as he reached for the scruff of her neck to make her bow down.

Quickly, though without seeming to be in haste, Camarat swung his staff between the man and Elske. Keeping his voice the same soft, understanding, gentle, and yet commanding tone it was, he addressed the man, "Calm yourself man. There is no need for such formalities. Besides, regardless who I may or may not be that is no reason to impose oneself on a person who is a stranger after all. Leave us alone if you wouldn't mind." only slightly bothered by how rude the man had been. He cared between little and no for any excuses for anyone to be rude to someone else regardless who the two may be. Above all he hated his position on the Council. Had it not been for the Elders forcing him behind the desk declaring they needed a representative to the humans now that the time for peace reigned and that he was the best choice, he never would have taken it. As it were though plenty of other people agreed with the Elders, not even all of them Dragon Spirits or Wizards.

Briefly dwelling on the past he snapped back to the present. Turning his sincere smile to Elske again he bowed his head slightly. "My apologies. That was quite rude of me was it not? My name is Camrat. I'm a Wizard - I was once a Dragon Spirit until I gave up my gift to seek the arcane secrets of magic. With my gift went the immortal lifespan of a Dragon Spirit. As it is I still have a relatively extended lifespan. Already I'm over 1,200 years old. Though I may seem as though I may fall over and die at any given moment I'm not as bad off as I seem. I still have easily another 10,000 years to learn more of this world. Well, there, that's my story. Now may I inquire about yours?" his voice still calm, sincere, and gentle. He didn't mind her being slightly rude at him - hell, he'd been treated way more rude by more threatening people. With age he began to care less and less for things like that, instead keeping himself composed at all times.

When you die, your world ends. The world may go on, but in your eyes, the world ends with you.

-Carpe Diem

[Harbor]

In and out of cells for a few months. Well of course she was—she was back in Uru’Baen, the city that had given her as much grief as every other footprint in Alagaesia had combined. Even keeping her hound, Fenir, close had not been able to dampen the charred anger that rose against her skin every time she looked upon this place and its inhabitants. ”Then your bird has spared you no potatoes and gave them to you along with the meat. Many people are in and out of prison—many do it intentionally because they have no place to sleep and see that a storm is on its way. I am in no way remarkable.”

Elske, being accustomed to shouting, merely shallowly raised an eyebrow at the lingering guard for calling her out. Yes because she, a repeat offender, was expected to know the names and faces of everyone of import in this hellforsaken city. ”Were you even paying attention?” she demanded, scathing and disgusted with the man’s observational skills. ”I was winning. It is not my life His Grandest has saved.” When he reached for her she merely ducked, so his hand twisted behind her head, grasping only air, before the staff His Grandest held thudded firmly into the ground between them. Elske threw him another exasperated glare, one scowl simply blending into the next. He had evidently already seen her fighting—what was it about men that made them assume a woman engaged in a fight was automatically losing? It rankled her virtually nonexistent pride just enough to want to lay her own hand on the guard just to prove her point. Fortunately her pride only lifted its head, gave a cursory sniff, and rolled back over onto its drunken ass. Not much had the power to truly rouse it these days. Instead she only stared rigidly back at the bearded man, irritable. ”Besides. If he wishes to crush me he would have done so already, and he would be welcome to give me the challenge.”

Elske did not approve of suicide. But she had no qualms about allowing the world to properly kill her. Letting the wrong person do it would be a shame, but when one had nothing to live for, finding a cause to die for was no struggle.

His Grandest’s story caused her to raise a more respectful eyebrow than the dismissed guard’s shouting had. Impressive age for one to reach. Hers was as well, but her body had ceased to age and unfortunately with age one gained experience. It made her harder to worthily kill. ”Then that is where our similarities end,” she inflectionlessly said, having locked the majority of her trembling vexation away, as it was serving her little purpose here. Blandness was less exhausting, and apathy did remarkable things to even people who could handle her anger.

Elske stood with her left shoulder partially turned toward him, as though she expected him to lift his staff—heavier than the ones she usually favored—and beat her around the head with it, though in truth it was simply what felt most comfortable for her, being trapped in the proximity of a man she knew without doubt could overpower her. ”Indeed you may, and I have the right to ask again just why a stranger’s history is so important to you. I am a thief and a habitual liar, I don’t work well with others, and I’ve never stayed in prison for more than a month so unless you bury me alive I do not expect to enjoy this one’s hospitality much longer. Your records are incomplete, you have no trouble interceding in others’ affairs, and you have at least some deficiency in respect for other people if you so happily exert your magics on them or you innately believe that you always know what is best for them or know what they want. Why would a powerful, uninformed individual such as yourself choose to delve into the nicks and scratches of an oar as scarred as mine?”

The more formally Elske spoke was a fairly consistent meter of her mood, not that His Grandest would know this. But most people who bothered her were unnerved by hearing the cultured speech patterns of the nobility out of as uncouth mouth as hers, which was why she tended to rely on it when feeling the need to bother someone back. Briefly she wondered if she should call Fenir back, if he happened to be within range at the moment. He carried her pliers and wire-cutters. While preferring to escape prisons without leaving evidence as to how she’d done it, she was in no way above the quick and dirty approach, and the wire on these fences had been cooled improperly when it was forged—it was too flexible as opposed to stiff, and would slice easily even with her smaller cutters.

But chances were the wizard, if he didn’t simply stop her, would instead carry on buggering her by following her, and there was nowhere she could go, she suspected now, that he would be unwilling to follow if he had some genuine intentions with her. She had learned a vast many things in her old age—how to speak like a noble, how to walk like one, a few wherefores of blacksmithing, how to train virtually any beast prone to domestication—but in the last fifty years, how to tame a wizard had not been one of the skills she’d happened to pick up.

Elske lifted a single hand and scraped at the dirt still crusted on her brow from the clod that had been thrown over her. She wouldn’t get to see Fenir again just yet. ”Could we be as direct as possible with each other? I have the inclination to misinterpret others in the worst possible way, and if I can make no interpretation at all neither one of us is likely to get what we want. I want to go home, and I do not need your assistance for that. However what is it that you want which has led you to me?”

[Aelodil]

Camarat coughed at that. Crush her? The thought hadn't ever even crossed his mind. Why in the name of everything would he harm a child who did nothing wrong to him? Scolding himself mentally he remembered the effect it had on people. More often than not they were offended. Especially when he made the mistake of calling a 67 year old man "child". The man had spent an entire hour shouting at him and scolding him. Shaking his head he voiced his thoughts. "Do you know that most people who say they aren't important or anything among those lines are more often then not actually the most remarkable of people? It's a bad habit to lie, Elske. Much like drink; once you try it a little bit then you won't be able to stop."

Giving a sigh he wondered. It had seemed to him Elske had it under control but in his opinion that kind of a situation wasn't really one he'd call 'under control'. Besides, he disliked the whole idea of fighting. Turning his attention back to the child - woman, he corrected himself, he couldn't help but voice his question. "Why do you enjoy fighting? In all my years of living I've learned the horrors of battle and war. Even simple fights such as the one you were in become bloody, brutal, and disgustingly brutish. Yet you youngsters seem to enjoy it so much. I never understood that." waving his hand dismissively he shook his head. "My bad, I already know the answer. After all I was once the same as any of you. It's for the adrenaline - the thrill of it all. Yes, I seem to have .. well not forgotten, just no longer care for it really."

Raising an eyebrow at the name she gave him he didn't take a second to pause. "Don't even start with that 'grandest' thing. It's bad enough many of my old friends give me the formality. I hate it. If not for the necessity of it all I wouldn't have even accepted the job. Besides, the one who you should be calling 'grandest' is Nasuada if any of the Council at all, really." Considering he told her just how much he disliked the name he doubted she would spare him by not calling him that name now. It didn't bother him too much, though. He could live with it. He lived with much worse from other people so he was sure he could live with this child - Elske, again he cursed himself for it - trying to taunt him.

Shuffling around so that she would look him in the face unless she deliberately moved around, his gentle voice gained a hint of iron as he started his rant. "If I wished to crush you .. why in the name of everything would you think I would care to do that? Why would I attempt to harm someone who's done nothing against me to justify me trying to kill them? Please, Elske. Think logically here. I have more faith in you than that. You're not so blind that you'd think everyone is drunk on blood lust are you? Also what do you mean that's where our similarities end? What similarities do we -" cutting himself off mid-sentence he reached out with his mind, getting a feel of her mind. It definitely wasn't in the early years as her body seemed it was. It seemed.. old, in human years. Nodding to himself as he stroked his beard he leaned on his staff.

Raising his eyebrow Camarat couldn't help but inquire. "Do not try to test my ability to keep you contained in your cell, Elske. It's not something I enjoy doing. Ever. Regardless of who it may be. Also, I use my magic on others only if it were to heal them or if they were attempting to harm someone then I will not hesitate to use my magic to stop them. Especially if it's a mob against one single person. And no I'm not trying to say that because your'e a woman you need protections. I'd have done that regardless of who was in your situation. Regardless, I don't care who or what you are or what your rank or title is. I thought I could have you help me as my assistant. I am in dire need of someone like that. Of course, that would mean you won't have to sit in a cell anymore and any past crimes would be excused. In addition, the job comes with a decent amount of legal authority and basically just about anything you might want. Whether it ranges from paint to canvas' to your choice of fancy clothing you will have it."

When you die, your world ends. The world may go on, but in your eyes, the world ends with you.

-Carpe Diem

[Harbor]

The most remarkable people…. Elske briefly closed her eyes. Remarkable was not important. Elske had escaped the prisons of Galbatorix—that was remarkable. It did not make her important. At his reference to the addictions of lying—he wasn’t wrong—her lips faintly turned up. ”But think of the rewards,” she hummed to herself. "And since when are remarkability and importance mutually inclusive?"

The wizard sighed too, and she opened her eyes. Could it be he was actually capable of human emotion, now that she knew he was not indeed naturally human? To his question she merely shrugged. ”It’s not the fight, it’s the challenge. Unlucky odds are the means to improvement.” At this point in her life it had been a decade since a single human had bested her in a fight. She didn’t often have the opportunity to practice fights with multiple attackers, but in the war she had gotten a lot of fast practice. Trial by fire. Besides, she was angry. Fighting made her feel better. 

She wondered further than his explanation went when he expressed dismissal for her immediate moniker for him. Perhaps she would rankle him again with it later, but now that he was beginning to speak more about himself as opposed to asking her questions she minded him less. Besides, he hadn’t done anything terrifying since his unexpected arrival. No sparks thrown, no shimmering air. If not for what she’d seen and felt him do she’d think little of him beyond the first skim of respect for his achievement of age. Knowing what she now did about him made it both less and more impressive—less because this was likely ordinary for one of his kind, and more simply because of what his kind were. Elske knew little about the many strange and varied beings of the world beyond the physicalities and mindsets of humans and a few about dwarves. She hadn’t interacted enough with the others—or at all—to form more than her basic opinion that everything was worthy of being suspicious of. Even kindly looking old men who didn’t want the pressure or glamour of a title, and who insisted that it go to its rightful place. Grandness was not much of a compliment though—anyone could apply it with the right tools. What one did with themselves without the aid of others was what merited attention. Not the clothes and presentation they wore.

The wizard—she refused still to address him even mentally by name, her only way of satisfying herself with his strange and yet unexplained presence without outright needling him—strode around so they faced each other directly, and her lips tightened. It was harder to run away from someone you faced, harder to defend yourself. Even if he didn’t intend her harm she didn’t want to invite herself to the mislaid luck of having been unprepared.

She shook her head to his chagrined words now. ”Don’t let my opinions of actions you may choose to take even if you don’t intend to stand in for opinions you think I have of you.” The experiment of fighting a wizard would have been a satisfying way to go, and that was all.

His long pause made her want to narrow her eyes again, but instead she crossed her arms and lowered her chin, waiting for him to finish thinking. He was rather old, it probably didn’t come naturally to him anymore. However his words, and the peculiar cadence with which he now spoke them, made her raise her chin again, automatically defensive about how closely aligned his long pause had made his words to her ruminating thoughts. Despite the instinct to interrupt him in every place he went wrong, she was trying to reform from her heathen ways, and waited for him to finish before holding up a fist and extending one thumb. ”Not everyone wants to be put back together because not everyone is so easily broken; I have earned every mark my body carries and you applied a piece of yourself to me without permission. Why should I let someone touch me unwanted with their magic when I would not allow them to touch me unwanted with their hands?” She lifted her index finger. ”I chose that fight; you took it away. I have the right to make my own choices, even if you see them as mistakes.” A third finger. ”Someone like what? Someone who picks fights to keep you busy? Please be direct, I’m not clever enough to read between the lines.” Fourth finger. ”Are you fully aware of what my past crimes have been reported as?” Fifth. ”Is that where you live?” She tilted her head toward the palace, towering over them like the broken tooth of a defeated monster, not yet given the opportunity to decay. She bent her thumb halfway down to denote her sixth and final point. "Saying 'you will' makes it sound like you already know or have decided someone's answer, and makes others instinctively refuse." 

Elske had returned, despite her many inhibitions, to Uru’Baen specifically to visit the palace—by whatever means proved most effective—and go through their records, despite knowing how exhaustive a task it would be. As much as she hated to return to the place that had caused her the most lingering despair, having a legal way to do so was her preferred method, not wanting to give this city a solid enough reason to attempt to lock her more securely away, or simply be done with her. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d been hanged—she had however been fortunate enough to escape the grand finale on every previous occasion. Spending further time with someone of such magical strength was not a pleasing or encouraging thought, but if the position displeased her she could leave again.

Elske looked out toward the distant forest, grinding her teeth irritably together. Freedom always came with a price, but this was the first time since Galbatorix that she had been unwilling to pay it. This city must be toxic after all.

Fenir was her deciding factor. She wanted to see him again, as he was the last and only creature she felt she could safely love. Besides—unlucky circumstances were what seeded improvement. And it was about time she learned how to be human again, instead of monstrous.

Abruptly turning, Elske returned to the door into the prison, slamming her fist repeatedly against it. ”Give me my stuff back, I’m leaving.” Her throat was hard with combined dread and resolution, but, thus far, she would at least give the project a valid attempt.

{Elske doesn’t understand yet how mind reading ‘works’. She assumes it’s something like reading a report or a book—mostly just basic facts and figures, possibly impressions of an emotion but nothing solid. That’s why she’s not more upset about his having skimmed hers—if/when she finds out how it really works she would react more harshly.}

[Aelodil]

Keeping himself composed was quite a difficulty as Camarat stared at Elske. It wasn't that he was afraid of her. Rather he was afraid for her. He was afraid she'd make the stupid choice here. Sure he didn't have the right to tell others how to choose but he did have the right to advise people on their choices and fear for their well being. It was this same compassionate side of him that got him into many a problem. Whether it be because the person wanted to choose wrongly or if someone else wanted to try to get smart with Camarat and tell him off it didn't matter because the end result was always the same: They would end up choosing wrong and it costs them. He'd always feel bad afterwards, thinking maybe he didn't do enough. By the same token though he knew he did more than most anyone else. Much as he felt bad it was the truth.

When she walked to the door asking for her stuff he raised an eyebrow. It wasn't that he was bothered with how she asked, but rather he was surprised. He didn't bother to show his surprise other than to raise his eyebrow though. The last thing he wanted with someone like her was to show her that she had very well shaken him. Instead he leaned on his staff. Noticing his hand stroking his beard, he stopped the movement. Being unsure of when he had picked up the habit of stroking his beard when lost in thought he disliked it. Not that he minded the movement, just that it showed to others when he was in a certain mood or doing a certain action. That was the part that he disliked. He preferred to be unreadable.

Turning back to reality he noticed a guard waving him a questioning movement, asking whether or not to give her her things. Nodding, Camarat turned his eyes back to her. Noticing her clothes ripped and splattered with blood along with other unholy deviations he grimaced.

"I'd like to ask you to wait here just a moment Elske. And yes, I am trusting you to stay here. I hope my trust isn't misplaced." tapping her shoulder just to make sure she was paying attention he used magic to rip a hole in the fabric of reality to send him to a tailor's wardrobe. The tailor was an elf who was surprisingly friendly with everyone, not limiting his warmth to other elves. The man could rush the tailoring of any fine clothing with magic if you had no time to waste.

Hailing the man, Camarat smiled. "I'll be needing at least one change of clothes. If you don't mind I'll send the measurements to you mentally?" was his form of greeting the man and getting down to the point.

Laughing, the elf responded, "No time to chat eh? Nor time for any tea or coffee? That's a shame. Yes, please, by all means elder." his voice full of respect. Most of the elves if not all respected him mainly for his old age and wisdom. Not that Camarat knew whether he appreciated the sentiment or resented it.

Ignoring his train of thought for a moment he reached out to the elf's mind and replayed an image with Elske, though he blurred her face in his memory. No need to irritate the elf if he knew her. Focusing back on the elf's face he nodded with satisfaction as he began to work. "Do you want only a shirt and trousers or also a dress?" came the elf's sing-song voice.

Hesitating for a moment, Camarat thought. Most women, he knew, tended to wear dresses, though he doubted Elske would appreciate a dress. Doesn't hurt to be safe he thought. "A dress too, please. I do appreciate it if you could hurry as well." the elf nodded and began work.

Walking out the shop not five minutes later, Camarat walked out of sight of everyone so he could use magic to break a hole in the fabric of reality back to where he had left Elske. Hoping she had stayed, he spoke out loud, "If you would be so kind to follow me, Elske." as he strode out the cell and into the hall leading to his chambers. Opening the doors of his chambers he laid out both choices of clothes on a chair then gestured to a door that opened to his needlessly luxurious shower and bath. "I hate to ask but you do need to take a shower first of all and change into either of the choices there." he said as he dropped down onto the chair set behind his desk and began to file the paperwork.

When you die, your world ends. The world may go on, but in your eyes, the world ends with you.

-Carpe Diem

[Harbor]

The wizard endured her lecture with a calm face, which spoke well for him. For all her own sharp irritation she didn't want to anger him--that wasn't the point. She wanted him to listen and understand her perspective, at least somewhat. The wizard did listen, which she shallowly appreciated, but he made neither a response not any indication that he'd understood, or that he particularly cared, which vexed her. As someone who apparently wanted her company for some mysterious purpose it was in his own best interest to understand at least why she was angry, if nothing else. Just because she was trying to be human again didn't mean she'd make it. Some people just functioned better as monsters.

When he touched her shoulder she flinched, recoiling, and flowered at him as he spoke. She spread her hands in exaggeration. "Where am I going to go?" Never mind that it had been her choice not to sloppily leave before, and she had already begun considering it.

Elske accepted her bulging burlap pack from the guard first when he returned, glaring at her, suspicious. She accepted her belt second, wrapping it high on her hips and checking that the daggers were still in good condition. The hatchet lashed to her pack didn't appear to have been touched. Normally most of her belongings would still be hidden in the forest somewhere, but she'd been recognized and caught while moving them, and they had been brought in with her.

When the air shifted and the wizard bulged out of it as though simply passing through a doorway Elske leaped back with a muttered expletive. He appeared to have retrieved something. He then led her through the prison and up into the castle, asking her to follow him, and she stared at him in disbelief. Follow him? Was he planning on making another aberration for this too or could he deign to travel as normal creatures did? As much as she wanted to be gone from the jailhouse she wasn't thrilled about returning the castle that had put her on the path to monsterhood. Already she could smell the stone they built it with centuries ago, hear the way people's feet scuffed over it just like they used to. 

Elske's skin crawled. She grit her teeth. Better the enemy she knew.... But at least her only lasting concern was that if his magic someday killed her, Fenir would be alone. Of course she could also be stepping into a life worse than this one, but he had said her prior records would be erased. She may not have to run anymore. There was the chance she could leave the monster behind in full, if she worked hard enough and he told her the truth.

"Bloody hell," she muttered, and stomped forth to follow him.

Eventually she found herself in someone's living chambers--the wizard's, presumably.  She scraped sweat off her forehead and scowled at him. Of course Elske preferred to be clean, though she often wasn't. But he had not answered her question yet. So Elske dug a potato out of her pack, took her least threatening, pocket knife from her pocket, and sliced a piece from it to eat. Pointedly, she asked, "Someone like what?"

When would she be able to call Fenir? Chances were he wouldn't trust her to leave immediately, though she wanted to. If she left her belongings here he might believe she'd return, but perhaps he was even more suspicious than she was. Walking slowly, she circled widely behind his chair toward the window, looking out as far as she could, wondering if Fenir would hear if she whistled from here. Not likely. He'd naturally spend some of his time each day near the prison, having last seen here there, but she doubted the guards would allow a strange dog to lope indoors without a minder. No, it was best if she went outside to wait for him herself. 

[Aelodil]

((He didn't use magic to get to his chambers, he walked out of the yard to a hall that led to his chambers. RIP))

When you die, your world ends. The world may go on, but in your eyes, the world ends with you.

-Carpe Diem

[Aelodil]

Sitting down now in his chair behind his desk he felt oddly somehow at peace. Despite the mountain of work he had ahead of him and the tiring day he felt at home. The atmosphere was getting to him. Looking up from his papers, surprised to see Elske still there and not in the shower he raised a bushy eyebrow causing his already obvious wrinkles to show even more.

Leaning back into his chair he crossed his arms across his chest, flexing the surprisingly large amount of muscle in his body. "I had brought you here partly for the privacy of whatever we deem to speak about and partly because I thought you'd feel more comfortable sitting down. Mind, you're not sitting in my office without having properly showered." came his voice still that same understanding and gentle tone.

"Considering you want to talk before cleaning yourself let's talk. First off I know you're actually older than you seem, so you don't have to try to hide it. Second, don't worry, no one can hear us from outside. I have placed wards of magic to shield this room from prying ears. Third, I want someone who I know has nothing better to do with their time except cause trouble. Besides, it's been many centuries since the last time I was keeping company with a woman. No matter how you look at it, you win. You get access to plenty of money and a large amount of authority. Why would you say no?"

Sighing, he regained his warm smile which caused the wrinkles on his face to show that much more. Standing up he walked to a table on the side and popped the cork off a bottle of rich wine. Grabbing two glasses he laid them out on a table with a couch and a high arm chair next to it then poured an equal amount of wine into each glass. Sitting himself down in the seat he said out loud, "Go clean yourself off and relax a little. Take whichever of the two clothes you want. Also yes, I am like most normal human beings, I do walk normally without magic among other things. Just that more often than not it's more practical to use magic to get around faster. Alrighty then that's enough said. Off with you now." making a shooing gesture with his hand.

((Sorry for the quality))

When you die, your world ends. The world may go on, but in your eyes, the world ends with you.

-Carpe Diem

[Harbor]

She was pleased to apparently not have bothered him with the pocket knife. She was too tired to bother him just now—anger and fear are exhausting emotions to maintain for more than a short period of time. He also didn’t immediately realize she hadn’t instantly plunged through the door to his bathroom. Alas she did not feel more comfortable sitting down just yet—sitting was a harder position to suddenly defend oneself from, not that she had any defenses against magic. She wished she could make some retort about despite this being his office it was still her body, not his to decide the state of, but she shared at least some of his opinions on cleanliness. Elske never enjoyed being dirty, her lifestyle simply often brought her to a dirty state of being.

Demeanor at its blandest as the wizard at last began to speak somewhat more plainly, Elske worked her way through skinned layers of the potato while he explained himself. So he’d figured out that her records had been around longer than they should have—she was surprised more people hadn’t made that hop, honestly. It was hardly a leap, especially not in a world where magic was known to exist, even if it wasn’t highly plentiful. She raised an eyebrow at him, wondering when he’d decided she was making an effort to hide her age. She supposed her lack of elucidation before could be one indication. As Elske saw it she neither hid it nor displayed it, but at this point others’ identification of that aspect of her life bothered her far less than other aspects they may know.

Her eyebrow dropped back down in disbelief at his third conjecture. Nothing better to do? Elske only caused trouble when forced to or when bored. She wasn’t adverse to trouble, certainly, but she did have her own plans—marginally—and causing wanton mischief rarely factored into them. As far as why she would refuse his offer, that was straightforward. ”Because I dislike magic and you both use and have quite a lot of it. Also it seems a rather rare possibility that someone would free a known troublemaker from prison, go to the trouble of erasing their prior records, then give them access to two things which actually make troublemaking far easier and far more catastrophic if they truly wish it to be. Why would you say yes?” She shook her head. ”Do you often take random, unfriendly criminals out of prison just to keep you company?” Now she became concerned in another manner—did he have all of his mental faculties to him? Did he know he appeared to be missing some? Madness was harder to spot in those it revealed itself within only slowly, particularly if they held esteemed positions at the time. Besides, what about her own plans? She’d wanted to find a place to live, a place to build on. And not in some festering city that could never be scoured free of the memories it had given people, regardless of how hard people tried.

Elske sighed as he shooed her toward the bathroom, rolling her eyes. She had her own clean clothes in her pack, but decided he might be more willing to let her leave to collect Fenir if she at least made the effort to be polite and accept the offering. Sparing only the time to regret the lack of windows in his bathroom, she shut the door behind herself, eased her pack from her shoulders beside the tub, dropping the clothes over a gleaming rack nearby, and wondered which of the faucets brought hot water and which brought cold. She’d only bathed in warm water a handful of times, or at least warmer than shallow lake water tended to be in late summer, which on occasion was very warm.

One of the faucets was warm to the touch, so she started with that one.

It only took Elske fifteen minutes to do the majority of washing, since she’d made a habit to do it quickly or fight with hypothermia later. She bound her damp hair back in the same low bundle she’d had it in before, slid the straps for her rib-guard over her shoulders, then tightened the buckles around her midsection and waist, smoothing one of her loose-sleeved shirts over it before using one finger to lift the fancy, dark blue tunic and regard it with distaste. It had embroidery around the hemlines. Bloody hell, the fabric wasn’t the sort that would allow her to comfortably move even! At least it wasn’t an even brighter color. Dull colors, or no colors at all, suited her much better. At least the pants were brown, and fairly plain. With a heavy sigh, Elske pulled the pants on then buttoned the tunic, leaving the top button open because it too closely hugged her neck. Her usual belt of weapons and various small tools looked ridiculous over this finery, but looking appropriate had never been a yammering concern of hers, so she paid it no mind, retrieving a clean pair of stockings and her smaller, lighter leather shoes to put on before opening the door back into the wizard’s study.

She didn’t go through the door however; she’d opened it just to talk while she rolled up her sleeves, added cold water to the bottom of the emptied bathtub, and threw her dirty clothes in to scrub them with one of the odd soaps provided on a shelf. It didn’t smell like anything she’d find in your average forest, so she used it as sparingly as she could, not particularly wanting to smell like whatever the hell it thought it was, or was trying to be.

”What can I or would I be permitted to do to be useful?” she called through the open door behind her. ”I’m not sure I’m qualified for friendship, let alone only friendship.” One of them would end up killing the other by the end of the month, guaranteed. Elske would probably want to first, but she wouldn’t bet on herself in this fight. ”Also can rooms be negotiated? I’m not sure I admire your décor.” Elske wanted windows, or more of them. She no longer liked being indoors the way other women seemed to prefer to be. It made her feel confined, compressed. Adversely, rooms as spacious as his made her feel like some tiny imposter. But Elske didn’t like to discuss her wants, if she even knew them, so phrased herself differently whenever possible.

Having had years of practice with dirt- and bloodstains, she had the shirt clean in a matter of minutes, and the rest were only a few minutes behind. She wrung them out and hung them on the shiny clothes rack with the damp towels, grimacing because she’d been unable to completely dry with towels—she never could—and her damp skin stuck to the leather of her guard. She could have left it off she supposed, but she’d never done that in the presence of another person, and often simply left it on for the security of it anyway. She took her pack back into the other room, leaned it against the side of the couch, and sat beside it on the floor with her dirt-caked boots. Spring meant cleaning her boots almost daily, but she didn’t mind. She even spread an old cloth on the floor first, so she could brush the mud from the laces and pick it from the stitching without dirtying his floor. ”Also,” she said, not looking up from where she was using a tiny pick to scrape clay from the grooves in two adjoined pieces of leather, ”how do you feel about dogs?”

[Aelodil]

Deciding to wait for Elske to clean off before continuing their conversation he took off his hat and placed it on the side of his desk, showing off the messy hair on the top of his scalp which ran long and a very pure white, bringing to light his many years of age. Putting his mind to his work he began signing off random agreements among other things.

Hearing the door of his bathroom open he looked up, surprised. He didn't have much experience with woman having not spent time with a woman in a very long time but based on what he knew they generally tended to spend quite some time in the bath. Leaning forward with his head resting on his hand with his elbows hoisted on his desk, he looked at her with a twinkle in his eyes. Giving her a warm smile he answered her question, "Oh no my dear. You have nothing to have to do other than just be yourself and accompany me."

Considerably more glad to have gotten that out of the way, Camarat gestured to a rather luxurious couch. "Now that you're cleaned up and dressed for the occasion please do take a seat and be at ease. Make yourself at home." standing up he sat on the chair next to the couch he gestured to.

"Rooms? Elske, if you accept this job you can have just about anything you want that's legal and if you really want it even some things that aren't legal. Rooms can be negotiated as well as anything else you might want. You can fill an entire wardrobe with whatever you want no problem. Literally anything you want you'll have. So now tell me why wouldn't you accept? It doesn't seem like you have much better to do." his voice was calm and slightly aggravated with her stubbornness though he fully understood her reasoning.

Raising an eyebrow at the sudden question about dogs he replied, "Not sure how much you know about dragon spirits or wizards, not much I'm guessing, but basically to answer your question without any turnarounds, I absolutely adore anything from nature. Whether it's the landscape or animals I adore them all. If you want a dog or have a dog, by all means. They can go with you wherever you want them to be."

((Again sorry, my muse is at a sort of low))

When you die, your world ends. The world may go on, but in your eyes, the world ends with you.

-Carpe Diem

[Harbor]

Just be yourself. Elske sighed. Nobody actually wanted that anymore. They had barely tolerated it when she was young. But the wizard would have to look out for himself. She’d try not to aggravate him too much, at least until she felt her debt of his erasure of her records was somewhat more balanced. In her mind that was at least a year, but logically, since it was several years’ worth of time he was willing to dispose of, she ought to mentally prepare herself for more. Unfortunately she didn’t think she’d be able to stay in one place—let alone this place—for nearly as long as year as it was. Perhaps this had been a poor decision after all. Would he still let her out of it, she wondered?

When the wizard sat on the chair she adjusted, sliding her cloth full of dirt scrapings around to the other side of the low table, where she could see him better if she looked up. The laces in one of the boots was soaked through with mud, so she worked it free of its grommets and set it aside to wash later, not lifting her head. Was this man capable of not evading a question? Or consistently answering in a way that made any sensible logic at all? Who paid a known criminal to spend time with them, all while removing all evidence society had against them? She flipped the boot she was working on over and switched tools so she could work caked mud out of the soles.

”What concerns me isn’t my end,” she quietly said, attentive to her work, ”it’s yours. I don’t like things I don’t understand and you aren’t making any sense. You’re taking a considerable risk while potentially enabling a known criminal all for companionship? You aren’t in the habit of answering questions and I’m tired of sleeping on a buggy mat, so I’ll let it slip for now, but be aware that you are a very strange man and I am not accustomed to it.” She briefly pointed the pick at him to emphasize her point, then returned to her project.

At his claim to adoring the natural world, dogs included—though she wondered if that included her massive hound, with his head level with her elbow and his shoulder just under her hip—Elske immediately straightened. ”Not that you have any reason to, may I leave to fetch mine?” Her hands stilled on the boot she’d been working over, and she watched him closely again, biting down on her hope in case he made her wait. ”I’ll leave my belongings here, if that engenders any form of flimsy trust.” My my, her purposeful nobility-talk lessons still worked. She wondered how he’d react when she started speaking as she’d first learned to, with the peasants’ cant. The nobility talked like they were lying to you no matter what they said—it wasn’t a language she preferred to speak, but it gave her more confidence, even if it took away her comfort, so in certain situations she still did.

[Aelodil]

Noticing the sigh from Elske, Camarat ran a mental checkup on how he had been faring talking with her so far. He knew a lot of people rather preferred to dodge talking to him and he realized sheepishly now that it was because of his tendency to avoid a question or answer it in a round-about manner. Flashing her a sheepish smile.

Camarat had no idea what was going on in Elske's mind and he didn't care to check. It was rude to do that uninvited. Even with his limited knowledge about Elske and her personality he was more than positively certain she'd hate it if he were to do anything like that or use magic on her. Instead he tried to analyze it himself without 'cheating' as it were. He doubted she was taking a liking to his idea - yet anyway. Chances were she was currently frustrated with him. As to the why, Camarat could only hazard a bunch of different guesses but couldn't choose between them all.

Setting aside his thoughts for a moment he eyed Elske as she removed mud from the soles of her boot and frowned at her. "I would have rather preferred if you had let a servant do that instead, and preferably somewhere that isn't as luxurious as my chambers. Much as I may scorn the luxury, I imagine it cost a fortune." his voice for once changing from the harmonious gentle tone to a more bored tone attempting to be angry. Not that he angered easily, if ever.

Shrugging at her, he set his staff across the arms of the chair which he reclined in and sighed. "Sorry, I can't really explain. Though if it makes you feel any better you may think of it as an old man going senile. Personally.. I'm not exactly sure why. Though I don't think it's that much of a risk. Considering I'll keep myself close to you at all times - mostly anyway - I think I can keep you in check if you ever try to do something a little too wild." wincing he shifted his position and rubbed his back before continuing, "As for me not answering.. well, I do apologize. Force of habit isn't it?"

Noticing Elske's posture straighten, he smiled as she asked. Standing up, he gripped his staff and continued leaning on it as usual. "No need, I'll tag along. Personally I think I've spent more than enough time trapped in this awful castle. And don't read into it; I'm not tagging along for fear of you running, rather I think I'll enjoy being somewhere not.. here." pointing around to emphasize his point on the 'here'. "After you" he finished with a flourish of his hat and an attempt of a bow which left his back sore.

When you die, your world ends. The world may go on, but in your eyes, the world ends with you.

-Carpe Diem

[Harbor]

Elske raised one bemused eyebrow at him when he suggested she make a servant clean her boots. ”Why would I do that? I haven’t any modesty, reputation or soft skin to maintain, and I like taking care of myself.” Well, she wasn’t sure it was liking necessarily…. She wasn’t sure what it was. But she didn’t want others touching her belongings, or others assisting her, or doing things for her. Anything Elske could do for herself she would, and anything else simply wouldn’t get done. At his somewhat-dismissive tone of the expense of the rooms one side of her mouth quirked up and her brow smoothed as she switched to a stiff-bristled brush as opposed to ceasing her evidently ‘undesirable’ habit. Irritation, dismissiveness, anger, meanness—she understood them all far better, and was far more comfortable with them, than such things as tranquility and kindness. ”I clean up after myself,” she calmly assured him.

At least he was finally acknowledging his own evasiveness. Elske supposed she’d have to content herself with that for the time being, and possibly even for the time following. But alas. She admired him for his serene commitment to this venture he’d entered himself into though, with perhaps limited knowledge. He’d said he’d known of her before meeting her, and he knew she was older than she looked, but past that she didn’t want to demand that he tell her about herself. What things he did or did not know was neither her concern nor a pressing interest.

She was surprised to see him stand again, and automatically stood with him, not being one comfortable with sitting near others she was inherently not comfortable around. Her lips twisted to one side, wry. ‘Awful castle’ indeed. At least she wasn’t the only one. She doubted she was, by far, but most everyone else seemed content to hurry along to beautifying it and forgetting all the rest. Well, whatever worked for them.

Leaving her tools and boots on the dirt-catching-cloth, Elske retrieved only her satchel and slung it across her back. For the sake of attempted cordiality, she admitted, ”It would be fair of you not to trust me, though I have a shocking tendency toward holding to my word, even if my word has only been implied.” She stepped out of his rooms and paused as he followed, consciously shortening and slowing her steps—though at the thought of seeing Fenir that gesture took more effort than usual—so he could keep up. Sometimes he looked like one long turn around the runner beans would put him in bed for a week.

Despite not having been through it in decades, and never having come at it from this direction before, Elske found her way to the front doors—those facing the main city—with little trouble, being lucky to have a decent sense of direction and a desperate memory. As soon as they stepped onto the claustrophobic street, full of its daily shoppers and other pedestrians, Elske asked, ”How good’s your hearing?” She didn’t want to make his ears ring, and she had a very loud whistle when she was calling Fenir from possibly long distances.

She stepped slightly away from him, half-extending a spread hand in his direction in the hopes he’d trust her enough to let her take those few steps on her own. She wet her lips, trying to start the notes she used to call Fenir, and it took her two tries, her mouth dry. It was a very particular, long, lasting trill she used to call him after she’d been away. He knew a number of different calls, Fenir, and reacted differently to each of them. Just as he reacted differently to his countless vocal commands and corresponding gestures, in case Elske was in a position where she couldn’t or didn’t wish to speak.

And then Elske waited. She waited for five minutes in that spot, back straight, turning as she looked for the reactions from the crowd that would tell her her dog was barging his way through them.

”I hope you don’t mind the walk and the waiting,” she said as she walked toward a different edge of the town, thinking he might yet be too far away to hear. He usually stuck relatively near to where he knew she was, so if he didn’t hear her now he would likely circle back later. She headed slightly toward the jail but stayed out of sight of it, contorted her lips and tongue and whistled again.

This time, distantly, after a long minute of silent waiting, Elske heard a bark, and she turned with a grin. Heads lurched sideways as the people attached to them leaped out of the way of the oversized hound, and Elske dropped to one knee—ignoring the damage the grit of sand and stone might do to the fine fabric—and held out her hands as he came barreling through the last throngs of shoppers, who stared after him, and didn’t bother slowing as he plowed his head into her chest, throwing her onto her back.

Elske laughed, as only Fenir made her do these days, and shoved him off of her so she could stand, but then immediately bent to unbuckle the straps holding the small bundles and harness across his shaggy white, brown and black fur, rubbing his head and chin and chest with affection as she did so. ”I’m sorry you had to hold them for so long,” she murmured, throwing the harness across her back in place of the satchel and taking a pair of shears and another small, empty bag from her pack. She glanced over her shoulder at Camarat, about whom she’d nearly forgotten. ”Do you mind waiting a minute? Since you likely don’t want me cutting his hair in your fancy rooms.” She knelt again and murmured to the hound. ”Fenir, Lagad Stuned. Lagad.” She pointed to Camarat. Associate, Greet.

Fenir trotted happily over to the wizard, thick tail swinging, to say hello and get accustomed with the wizard’s smell. She was sure it was strange.

When Fenir returned to her she set to work trimming his long fur, as neither he nor she appreciated having to brush it regularly, and it wasn’t so cold anymore that he needed it all. She did only a perfunctory trim now, stuffing the clippings into the bag before they could blow away. She could do a handsomer job once she had a room of her own, in which she could do as she pleased without it being considered degrading for the fanciness of the space because no one else needed to see. ”Thank you,” she said to Camarat, working as efficiently as she could while Fenir stood still before her, tongue lolling, tail still drifting rhythmically back and forth.

{Fenir}

[Aelodil]

Shaking his head slightly, Camarat let a whisper of breath out in what most people would think of as nothing more than an exhalation. In reality it was the Wizard's equivalent of a sigh. However, due to his relatively large ego he refused to admit when he was frustrated to the point he'd sigh. Much as he hated to admit it now, Elske's words earlier about her not being all too civil were a little too true for him to admit. It didn't help that her words proved his thoughts. On the one hand he imagined few people would like their belongings handled by someone other than themselves - hell, Camarat personally would never let someone handle his personal belongings without a definite reason. Even then chances were he'd be sour about it.

Raising a bushy white eyebrow at the quirk in her lips he asked, "Oh? Is that amusement I see?" his voice thick with irony and humor. Not that he was sure whether she would appreciate it or not. There weren't many things he thought she'd appreciate. Especially not coming from him.

Smiling to himself wryly as he followed Elske out of his chambers he thought about the last time he had been escorted out of any room. The last time that came to mind was about a century ago. No need to tell Elske, anyway. He doubted she'd care. Taking a breath to say something, he hesitated. Much as he wanted to keep Elske from ending up in a rather poor mood he also felt the need to talk - to anyone. Instead, he waited. As they walked through the halls he found himself admiring the designs. "Isn't that a first then? I don't recall a single thief admitting that in earnest." Letting it drop, he went back to admiring the beauty in the designs. Eyeing the pictures on the walls with beautiful frames surrounding them, he noticed Elske's restrained gait.

"No need to slow down for my sake. I know I may seem ready to collapse with a simple breath but trust me, I'm rather sturdy. Surprise you as it may, my body is still well muscled underneath these robes." he began, wondering whether or not to continue with the tale he was about to recite. Wetting his lip with a lick, he brushed aside his hesitation and started talking while they walked. Hopefully being more open would get Elske out of her social hole she dug. "When I was still 900 years old I was a Dragon Spirit. Same race as a Wizard, technically. Dragon Spirits are much the same as Elves with the ability to morph into a dragon. However, if you were to give up this gift then you would be stuck in your elven body and lose the true immortality dragons have. Luckily, we Wizards remain with a rather extended lifespan. Back to the point. At the age of 900 I was still rather naive. Of course it was at this time that my friends - the only people I considered my family - died."

Pausing to take in a shaky breath as he remembered those days, suddenly Camarat looked his age with immense weight on his shoulders. "I spent a decade or two in a rage and finally after calming down I gave up my gift to seek the arcane secrets of this world. I sung a tree into this staff here which I use as a walking stick and a catalyst to my power when necessary. I forged myself a sword a few centuries later. But you know something, Elske? I spent an entire 3 centuries on my own. It wasn't until the past 2 years that I regained contact with society. Before my time spent as a Wizard, alone and travelling the globe, I never appreciated when elves or dragons said with remorse that they'd rather not be immortal at times. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like. How would it feel to die? Watching the world around me deteriorate and die I couldn't help but slowly lose some appreciations until I met a certain young Rider and her dragon. To this day I watch them, you know. Always keeping myself aware of their presence. To me they are my family and legacy. They are all I feel I've left for this world."

After his immensely long story, Camarat was surprised to find them at the gates of the castle and even more surprised to realize how he felt, remembering all those moments. Remembering all those feelings. Smiling lopsidedly he wiped a tear off his cheek before Elske could notice it.

Cocking his head curiously at the question, Camarat began to answer when she whistled. Wincing, he instinctively raised a hand to his ear, mending the blown eardrum. "To answer your question, my hearing is rather sharp. Thank you for the warning." his tone dry. Blinking in surprise, he realized how long it had been since he last used a dry tone with anyone. Maybe this was a good choice after all.

Smiling at her attempted civility, he parted his lips again, "How could I mind when I'm with someone as cheerfully social as yourself?" It was quite a surprise for him that he'd tease someone so much and enjoy it. Of course sometimes he teased Isrydia and Arlyn but they were like his grandchildren to him. They were family to him. With others however.. he had never felt inclined to be nearly as open.

Thinking about saying something to cut the silence, Camarat was just about to start when Elske's companion came barreling straight into her. Despite himself, Camarat smiled. A warm and genuine smile. When the dog - Fenir he guessed from when she said his name - approached him, Camarat squatted down and began patting him. Whispering in the Ancient Language, something he knew most animals were familiar with, he introduced himself, "My name's Camarat. Lovely to meet you, Fenir. I hope we'll both enjoy our time together from now on." not sure whether Elske understood the Ancient Language and not caring either.

Standing back up despite his joints screaming at him, he bowed his head slightly to Elske. "No need to thank me. I understand how it feels to have a friend with you again after a long time. Though I also know how it feels for said friend to be taken from you moments afterwards. May you never learn how that feels."

When you die, your world ends. The world may go on, but in your eyes, the world ends with you.

-Carpe Diem

[Harbor]

Was it humor that caused her lips to twitch at his description of Galbatorix’s domineering castle? Her lips pursed at his remark. ”More a wry acknowledgment,” she allowed, debating over every sentence she spoke. It wasn’t her habit to make friends, or associates, or even acquaintances with people. It never had been. Most people who spoke to her for extended periods of time didn’t do it for her or even a mutual benefit; it was always for their own gain it seemed. Bonding, therefore, or passing on shared experiences, wasn’t something she was either familiar or fully comfortable with. The odd sentence here and there, surely. But usually she used those to throw others off, to unnerve them. She did to others what she already expected them to do to her.

Camarat seemed interested with the paintings as they passed beneath them—thus far Elske had never been much interested in decoration. She didn’t want to like too much something she didn’t expect to have. Besides, it was useless. Why waste her energies appreciating useless things? ”I don’t recall a single thief admitting that in earnest.”

A stiff bit of reproach rubbed at the back of her throat and she replied without thinking, sharper than she’d intended to, but at least not viciously. ”I wasn’t raised a thief.” She didn’t do any of this because she wanted to. She’d never killed someone because she enjoyed it, though there were a few on her short list that she may have made an exception for. Well, she supposed there were a few exceptions. Elske typically stole only infrequently, and only for the things she absolutely couldn’t obtain or make herself. And she never stole from someone who would be genuinely harmed by her actions. But….on occasion the things she slipped out of fat men’s pockets went into pockets rubbed raw from the inside by their owners searching desperately for their children’s next meals. Generosity not being one of Elske’s strong traits, this did not happen often. But sometimes, when she felt a trickle more of humanity in her than usual. A little of the kindness she’d given up on years ago, fearing it would get her killed.

Elske raised an eyebrow at him, in her opinion of his muscles. When she saw evidence of that, perhaps she’d change her oldest oldest habits, which included respect for elders, a respect she’d had to pummel down when he’d approached her in the prison yard.

Listening to his summary of at least part of his life, Elske felt some of her raging uncertainty wane—she could understand the need for socialization that your average person would want if they had only reentered the populated world recently, and two years constituted as recent in his case, she estimated. Especially when compared with his three centuries in solitude.

Now Elske briskly trimmed Fenir’s shaggy fur so he’d get it caught in fewer things, require it combed less vigorously, and so she’d have to sweep it up less frequently. When they’d lived on whatever patch of dirt best suited them for the night it hadn’t mattered, but indoors it would assuredly accumulate. She doubted Camarat would approve. She had to stare at him though at his bizarre statement. Elske had given up on most common manners decades ago. She could drop them around her like thorns when she needed to, though it required most of her concentration and had required a great deal of practice and effort to learn them to begin with, but she rarely bothered. She didn’t like people; why encourage them to like her back? One eyebrow lifted, giving him a queer expression, she looked him up and down once more before returning to trimming Fenir’s heavy coat. Perhaps he was a touch senile after all. Or perhaps, she admitted to herself, his use of the elves’ language had just rankled her the way she deliberately rankled others when it suited her. Bloody elves.

Elske brushed fur off her shears and tucked them back into her satchel, retrieving a wide-toothed comb instead. She’d comb him more thoroughly later, when Camarat didn’t have to stand at her hip and wait for it. May you never know how that feels. She already did. But now wasn’t the time to say it. She didn’t want to, and….it just wasn’t. So she closed her eyes to keep stray hairs out of her eyes as she brushed and tried to accept the sentiment as it was; the fact that it had already been negated was not Camarat’s fault.

At last Elske returned her comb and the pouch of fur to her satchel. She’d dump out the fur some other time, when there weren’t baked goods and other wares nearby. Perhaps she could find a bird willing to build her nest with it. ”I’m done,” she said, resettling how Fenir’s harness and packs settled across her shoulders, over the pack now because it was more comfortable that way. Consciously, she reminded herself over and over to remain polite and at least attempt to be cordial. Despite now being in what passed for her as good cheer, she grimaced back up at the castle. ”I don’t suppose I could convince you to move somewhere more pleasant? Such as the middle of the desert, or the top of a bitter mountain?” Perhaps she was exaggerating, as the city itself no longer held any of the evils she remembered. But memories still lived here, and she didn’t want to admit to them.

However, there was also the possibility that she didn’t have to. ”You were around for the downfall; what did you find under the castle when you searched it?” The guards had said there were so many secret halls and rooms in this particular castle that not even Galbatorix knew where they all were. The ability to judge the validity of that statement wasn’t in her repertoire, but it pained her to think that they’d never found the lower prisons, where they kept the prisoners who had been assigned to the fighting rings the guards and soldiers so loved to place bets on. She wondered if the rudimentary records they’d kept to keep track of the winners and bets had made it through the siege. Despite it being half and half with the prisoners who were only a threat to Galbatorix and those who were a threat to every life they neared, it still would not be a fair death, she thought, to most of them to die of dehydration alone in the dark.

Elske rolled her thoughts on her tongue, now at a loss for what to do with herself. Fenir nosed at her hand and, absently, she retrieved a dense ball of pemmican for him to gnaw on. With teeth his size it still didn’t take him long, but she could buy him something better now she realized; what few coins she’d possessed at the time of her most recent imprisonment having been stowed in Fenir’s packs, an old jerky bone likely wouldn’t cost much. But that meant going into crowds, and her lips curled in distaste at the very thought. The further away other people were the better. She didn’t feel at ease among most sentient beings anymore.

She sighed. It was probably for the greater good that she learn how to do it once again, or at least to feign comfort in doing so. ”Was it the rider and dragon who caused you to trade in solitude for a life as one of we small folk?” she asked, as asking inquiring questions was the proper way to carry on a conversation. Fenir nosed at her hand again and she glanced down at him, then bent and spoke a few quiet words, being in the habit of trying to keep his commands to herself, no matter what form those commands took. He huffed and hurried off through the crowd. Something else occurring to her, she asked, ”Will Fenir be allowed in and out of the castle on his own or do I need to be with him?” Then a choice few of his words returned to her, and she flinched. "Your elven body?" She glanced toward his ears, wondering now if her opinion of him--shaky as it was--would change if they were pointed. He'd said he was a dragon spirit, and despite his human appearance had said nothing about actually being part-elf. At this point though what would it matter if he was? She was stuck with him now, at least for a while. 

Not long after, Fenir returned at a proud trot, head and tail held high. Elske dropped an open hand, and he deposited a wooden, threadless bobbin into her hand. One corner of Elske’s mouth quirked up and she rubbed his ear as she praised him, retrieving another pemmican ball for him to lip from her palm. She started to lower it, Fenir's nose already pressed into her fingers, then hesitated, and heaved a sigh. She stuck her fist out toward Camarat, for him to give the treat to the hound. If they were going to be spending a significant amount of time together--despite Fenir's cheerful greeting of the wizard earlier--she wanted to be sure Fenir understood how she had labeled him. She'd never used the command for 'associate' with him before, so she wasn't entirely sure how it sat in his understanding. She'd only ever named people her enemies to him. Just in case Camarat turned up unexpectedly sometime soon, when the hound still had few experiences of the wizard, she wanted to be sure there was no harmful 'misunderstanding' between the two. 

*Pemmican is a mix of dried meat and dried berries, basically. Yummy stuff.

[Aelodil]

Eyeing her slyly, Camarat wondered. Was that a hint of a hesitation he noted? Did he actually manage to get Elske out of the social hole she dug herself? He doubted it. Then again, as a Wizard he knew better than to think of something as an impossible feat. He of all Wizards should know that practically nothing is impossible if you put your mind to it. Mind the fact that something shouldn't be done, anyway.

What brought him back to reality was the tone in Elske's response. Turning to her he noticed just how insensitive he was when he said that. Wincing he apologized, "My bad. That was extremely rude of me and rather insensitive. I didn't mean that. Please do accept my apologies." bowing his head. A few people in the crowd nearby noticed the gesture from his part, also noticing his clothes and identified him. When they saw the bowing of his head many gasped quite audibly. Camarat was not one known to be in the wrong, no matter how minor or major the wrong might be.

Curiosity peeked, Camarat couldn't help but probe. "What was it that drove you to become a thief, Elske? Was it the thrill of the crime or is there a much deeper reason? If you think I'm prying a little too much I do apologize but I can't help myself. The feeling that I could've helped someone by hearing them out or anything similar to that but I didn't is not one I relish. So even if you may be upset with me for prying I can't help but pry and nothing will change that. Once again, I do apologize but my mind is made up." Knowing full well that she would probably hide even more socially was quite a sting to the old Wizard but it was one he was sure would pay off in the long run.

Standing idly while Elske trimmed Fenir was not something Camarat particularly enjoyed but he didn't particularly mind. Instead, he observed the nature around them along with all its natural beauty. A little off to the side was the constructed part of the city and on their left was a beautiful grove of trees along with a small pond. Reaching his existence out a little, Camarat reached out to the few small birds he felt around until they came flocking to him. Revealing all the wrinkles on his face by cracking a smile, Camarat extended his arms to his side and let them perch there. Explaining to them mentally, he began, Sorry fellas, I don't have any food on me right now. The birds merely chirped at him, letting him know they were happy enough with the presence of a Wizard. Times like this, Camarat could appreciate his time as a Dragon Spirit which allowed him to still attain his connection with nature.

Not two minutes later, the birds flapped away after sensing Elske's cross mood with Camarat. Letting his smile fade behind a sigh, Camarat raised his bushy eyebrow right back at Elske. "You're thinking I'm senile, aren't you? Not that I blame you. Sometimes I myself wonder about that. It isn't a good sign, is it? I think it's due to the management I have to deal with on the Council." His voice cheerful and light. He barely ever took anyone, himself included, seriously.

Giving a soft chuckle at her inquiry whether or not he could live elsewhere he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Now that you mention it, there is another place I could live. The rest of the Council probably won't appreciate me being somewhere that isn't a minute's walk away from the castle but hey, let them deal with it themselves. That's their problem, not ours." shocked, he stopped to run over what he said again. He had indeed said 'ours'. Eyeing Elske, he wondered how her reaction would fair. Well, he hoped. Or perhaps she would just ignore it. He had no idea.

Suddenly he went from cheerful to .. bothered. At the mention of what was below the castle during the fall of the Riders, Camarat's expression had become cloudy. "Nothing any living being should ever have to know about. Men and women who were used as gladiators - as if humans were barbarians! - barely given enough food and water to sustain themselves. Before I left for my solitary travels I helped as many as I could out of their cells and hustled them into the wild, knowing they would not be able to properly interact with other humans again. Some were glad; others.. others simply broke. They no longer understood what freedom was. I couldn't do the mercy of killing them. After all, who am I to judge and execute? No, that isn't my place. Even others.." shivering as he remembered, he continued, "Some others were beyond help. Their bodies and minds completely and utterly broken. I saw to it that they'd have as much comfort as they could in the short remainder of their lives but.."

Stopping, Camarat shook his head. "Sorry, I'd rather not talk about it." Turning excitedly to her question, Camarat shook his head. "No it wasn't them. If I'm not mistaken it was an old friend who got me out of solitary. Chances were he'd make a very big mess and no one other than me could've cleaned that up so I kind of.. just became me, I guess."

Smiling slyly, Camarat nodded. Pinching the tip of his ear which was round he explained, "I only have the body muscle and structure of an Elf now that I'm a Wizard. Well, and of course the mental capacity and magic but that's another story. I find I'm more human than Elf.. or maybe that's a lie."

Mentally jumping in surprise as Elske reached out for him to take the ball of what he guessed was a treat for Fenir, he acknowledged the notion with a simple "Thank you." before bending slightly to allow Fenir nibble on it before the enormous dog completely devoured it. Camarat's eyes danced with amusement. Standing up straight, he turned to Elske and heaved a breath. "Alrighty then. Off to our new home. Follow me. Also, Fenir is allowed anywhere he wants. I'll be sure to inform the officials."

Turning, Camarat walked through the snakes that were streets until he was at the city gates. Stepping out, he strode for another good five minutes, beautiful and lush green grass and trees on either of his sides until he reached an incline up the mountain which was bordered by a river. After another five minutes of climbing up, he stopped in front of an ancient oak tree which was enormous. Spreading his arms wide, he said, "Welcome. This is what I call home." and strode straight through the image of the trunk, climbing up the spiral staircase he had carved inside. Though it seemed on the outside a small and confined space, inside it was as spacious as his chambers in the castle though furnished simply rather than luxuriously. "Welcome home, Elske, Fenir." he said, a broad smile on his lips.

When you die, your world ends. The world may go on, but in your eyes, the world ends with you.

-Carpe Diem

[Harbor]

Be kind, be kind, be kind. Elske had to repeat it to herself multiple times, reminding herself about the possible remaining existence of it in her own life, so not to resort to her established instinct of rudeness no matter with what she had been offered. She shook her head to Camarat’s apology. ”I’m not offended, I’m irritated, and for the moment not with you. I assure you it generally takes work to offend me.” She eyed him warily with the dip of his head, uncomfortable with it. She still owed him in this mad venture of his, not the other way around, and she certainly deserved no apologies, presently, on his part. The reactions of those who knew him and saw the gesture also made her recoil. Apologies were on the long list of things she didn’t know how to accept.

This was why she didn’t socialize. There were too many rules and customs. It was like trying to catch your own shadow by the hands and dance, and the effort rarely worked in her favor.

Again she shook her head, anxiety still present, but significantly calmed by Fenir’s safe and healthy return. ”I don’t mind most questions. I can choose not to answer them. When people decide not to ask I can’t choose to change their minds and impressions. Your asking gives me the power to decide what to do and to make a change if I think it’s needed.” Sometimes she acknowledged that she had far more time on her hands than was healthy for her. But so far at least it has usually served her well as far as most introspections worked. She gnawed the inside of her lower lip as she considered what to tell him, and how to phrase it. Sympathy was tolerable; pity was not. ”I left my village in early winter and didn’t have the chance to take much with me. My father taught me how to fight and a little of survival, but I didn’t have the tools to survive in the wilds on my own, so I had to go to one of the next towns over and try to survive there. Learning to steal, since I had no money, was what kept me alive.

“I stole more in my first four years than I did in the following twenty years. Sometimes a year would go by when I didn’t need anything I couldn’t get for myself. Most of the time I foible coin from rich folk because I know they can spare it, and usually I do it because I need something for Fenir or sometimes myself that I can’t make. Needles or medicines or suchlike.” Being more comfortable speaking in a vocabulary closer to the one she’d been raised with, she hoped the comfort of attempting to abandon the nobles’ speech would help her to be more comfortable with him, as she’d exhaust herself and die in her sleep at this rate if she didn’t learn how to be. ”I don’t do it much anymore. Don’t usually need to. The last time I stole was a cream for easing out porcupine quills—I’d seen them bobbing about and knew Fenir had never seen them before and was curious. A ha’week later he tried to eat one and lost.”

Did she think he was senile? She glanced at him again and shrugged. ”I suppose a bit.” Probably wouldn’t hurt that they understood how they viewed each other. She sighed. ”Until you try to convince me I can fly I’ll try not to take a fright to it.”

’Not ours….’ Elske glanced down at her hands, picking stray Fenir hairs from the cuffs of her fine—now dusty and smudged—tunic, grimacing. The only ‘us’ for the last three years had been herself and Fenir, and before that ‘us’ has not existed unless it referred to those chasing her from one town to the next. ‘Us’ had been a good thing for far less time than it had been a bad thing. But evidently the wizard was already comfortable with this arrangement, and expected it to last. Oh well. She supposed she’d have to mentally prepare herself for the long run then. It wouldn’t be the worst thing she’d ever done, most likely.

Camarat knew about the fighting rings, she knew that from the moment she spoke. With effort she restrained a dry laugh at one of his sentences—humans were barbarians, but she kept that to herself. As usual, despite his answering her stated question, her latent question was left wanting—however he showed no indication of having known she had been there. ”Well,” she calmly said, beyond the point where discussing that place could hurt her, ”I am glad that with your efforts they found some measure of solace.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. Her own question, she realized now, implied she had known there was something down there to find, but as he chose not to pursue it and she hadn’t intended to reveal that to begin with, she too let it pass.

Elske was pleased to find he at least didn’t have the ears of an elf, though whether or not she should still extend her prejudice toward him remained to be seen. Ethically, no, but according to her own pre-established assumptions probably. She supposed she’d sort that out eventually. At least he liked dogs. His pleasure in treating Fenir gave her just enough cause to briefly lift one corner of her mouth, but she doubted he saw.

Again with the ‘our’, but since normal humans probably didn’t whine about semantics Elske consciously ignored the use of the word—who was she to decide for him how he should regard their new companionship? It wasn’t her place to decide how other people perceived things. He could say what he wanted.

Glad to have the castle at her back, and to hear that there was indeed a place to stay that wasn’t within the wretched building’s drafty walls, Elske followed an arm’s length from his shoulder, Fenir loping back and forth before or behind them, tail a-wag. The further from the city gates they went the more comfortable she became, particularly when she noticed a river nearby, wending between the steep hills.

When he said ‘welcome home’ before the expansive trunk of a tree she raised one questioning eyebrow at him, wondering if she should redefine her standards of ‘dangerously senile’, but then he walked through the trunk without a ripple and she closed her eyes, fastening one hand over them in conflict. More magic. Lovely. But she kept her eyes closed to step through the trunk, as that was the only way she’d get herself to do it, then crouched and extended a hand back through the bark to tug Fenir in as well.

When she’d managed the courage to open her eyes Elske wondered if she’d ever be satisfied with anything anymore. This place certainly was better-qualified to be called a home, by her faraway standards, but it still wasn’t a familiar-seeming place. Who lived inside a tree? One clearly wrought through and through with magic. And this place seemed more….his, more personal, which was another reason she felt the abrupt urge to run again. Or at least get up and walk a few laps around the—fake?—tree to get her bearings and to bring her heart rate down.

What it came down to was would she rather live in someone else’s personal space or in a space that made her feel as though she would never again escape? Be kind, be kind. ”You have a lovely home,” she said at last, neutral, and wishing she could sound genuinely happier, since he seemed to be going out of her way in the attempt to make her feel human again, or at least to give her what she wanted. And then a sudden, internal sadness—someone appeared to, for once, be attempting to do something for her and she couldn’t even appreciate it because she was too afraid of what he was doing. ”Why live in the castle at all if you have this?” She was still on one knee, rubbing the kinks out of Fenir’s back and shoulders, as walking through the tree had agitated him more visibly than it had her.