The following night

The two are awoken for their share of the nightly watch and Dwight finishes a long session of stretching.

"Well! I'm thirsty."

Shallan pulls out the half-full waterskin she carries and holds it up in offering. "This is just about all I have left."

Dwight goes for his. "I think I have plenty. Just stating my intentions. I could do without wine for a few days, though... after yesterday, a nice hot
tea would do just fine."

With a hidden smile, she takes a sip of her own water and stoppers it back up. "I apologize, I sometimes forget that these spirits affect humans much more so."

Dwight settles onto a log and chuckles. "Is that so? So much I don't know about the races. I find humans quite complicated enough."

"Some are good and some are evil, just as any race. It's the details that can overwhelm you."

A moment goes by.

"You've hardly said a word. Something on your mind?"

She shakes her head and evades the question, "Nothing of consequence..."

Dwight quickly tries to change the subject. "So where exactly are you from?"

"Navarene, the elven capital. It is a beautiful city, though I doubt most in your country would even know it is there... Everything is very different, houses and dwellings are blended in so well, one could walk entirely through without even knowing they had passed through the heart of it.” She closes her eyes. "The scent is of a thousand flowers drifting on the breeze." She opens her eyes and looks over uncomfortably. "But
it is no longer home, so..." She shrugs and lets the image fade.

Dwight waits a moment. "Did... did you have to leave suddenly?"

She considers the question for a long time. "It would have happened eventually. I was the apple tree among the flowers, and things were
uncomfortable for a very long time. When I left, I finally found happiness, doing what I love to do."

Again, nothing is said for a moment.

Dwight takes a drink, mulls it over for a bit. "What is your family like?"

She smiles. "My family has been Captain of the Nyssa guard for well over a thousand years. My brother stands to take my father's place." The smile fades, "He had the same upbringing you did, training and drilling with Guard regulars from the time he could walk."

"A thou..." Dwight starts, but stops. "Ah yes. Please, go on."

She nodded. "Four generations. But I was never offered the same chance given to my brother. Or my father, or his father..." She meets his eyes with a sad look. "As in your family, most likely. Father to son."

He gets a stern look on his face. "I guess some things don't change no matter where one is. So you didn't get the same opportunity?"

"No, not in Navarene. Not even in Are'thane. I had to cross over the border where a very good friend was able to help me. My brother
most of all, did the best he could, sharing what he learned at my father's hand. But...my studies and my domestic skills suffered and it was difficult hiding what I was doing. A disastrous house will do that..." She
chuckles, but most of the humor seems drained from it.

"Disastrous?"

"There is no time to stock the cupboard when you are trouncing your brother. Floors cannot sweep themselves while you try to outfly your
brother's arrows." She sighs. "Don't even ask about embroidery. Sword and bow string blisters are difficult to hide whilst weilding a sewing needle."

"Hmm. So they expected you to keep house." Dwight chuckles again, to
himself. "I can't imagine you in an apron. This seems to suit you much better. Of course, I am biased."

"Thank you," she says quietly, content with the acceptance she has found with her group of companions. "For a time, I served at court as well. Father thought it would keep me from daydreams of joining the Guard. It was something to do, and I became quite good at it. It is where I learned to speak and read the common language and I could converse with some of the visitors from other lands. And in between errands, I was able to catch glimpses of the Guard. It worked for a few years, but again, I failed him. A visiting noble was very rude, and demanded I be let go. He claimed I ruined his favorite cloak, when the slob spilled his own wine."

Dwight smirks. "Nobility can go to one's head with ease. I've heard more than one high-born buffoon bellowing at their servants with no provocation."

"At first, I thought it was an inborn trait that went with their noble blood. I am happy to see you do not suffer from that affliction." Her eyes studied him with a pleased curiosity.

"Well, it's hard to be a protector of the people if you equate the job to
sheepherding."

"I find it a pity that most see it that way. A friend of mine would equate it to just like that...only he really did herd sheep as well, to help the local farmers." She laughed. "He was an excellent woodsman, an excellent mentor, and an even better friend."

"A friend of yours from elven lands?"

She shook her head, "A ranger of the wilds, a human, Jacob Buckthorn. One morning he just appeared by my campfire." She indicates the
burning coals of their own fire. "It was the best surprise I had ever received. And my first and only friend."

He gives her a quizzical glance. "Surely you had some friends during your upbringing."

She shook her head and shifted uncomfortably. "When not studying, the boys had weapons training. The girls were given 'womanly instruction'. Since I very much preferred the former..." Shallan glanced down and seemed to intently study the ground before her, tracing elven script into the soil with a stray twig. "After a while, finding a mate and settling down were not to my liking, although my father tried to help..." She bit off the last words bitterly, not really willing to go on.

Dwight took the hint. "... What did you just write?"

She looked at the lettering, not even really paying attention to it. "The beginning words of most elven tales, 'When the wind was young and the
land just born...' " She scratched it out with a slightly unsteady hand, clearly trying to hide how emotional this discussion had gotten her.

Dwight takes another drink. "Mother used to tell us stories of the west. They always made your people sound like they swung from trees and played tricks on unwary humans. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to meet a real one, and now I've seen two. Every day I find that the
things I see become more and more incredible."

She was quiet for some time, simply letting the silence stretch. She stared at the fire, letting the years fade back to where they belonged, in her memory and not the here and now. After collecting herself, she gives Dwight a tight smile, "My most difficult time is getting used to your strange ways. I have been in your lands for some time, and I still find things to surprise me."

He lets out a good laugh. "I have been in my lands for some time, and I still find things to surprise me!"

This time the smile is genuine, and Shallan relaxes a little, leaning back a little. She glances up at him, then sketches a few other elegantly shaped scripts in the soil. "...The honorable and most noble protector of the realm..." she reads.

Dwight grins, and also relaxes a bit into his seat. "I'm curious. How would you write 'friend?'"

She scratches out what she has written and replaces it with something much smaller. "Mellon..." she gives the word a softly singing sound,
speaking her own language.

He lets it sink in. "Mellon. It's very nice." He places his hand on Shallan's shoulder. "May I... call you that?"

She pauses for a moment, slightly startled, then answers solemnly, "Amin harmuva onalle e' cormamin, mellonamin...I shall treasure your gift in my heart, my friend," she translates. She takes care to speak slowly,
emphasizing the use of the word she had shown him.

A grin crosses Dwight's face. "I am glad to be able to call you likewise." He squeezes her shoulder lightly and lets go.

She leans forward, dropping the stick into the fire, steeling herself. She convinces herself it is right and just, considering what she had put him through the night previous. "You asked before what troubles me..." Though the words come with difficulty, she tries to find the easiest way to present it to him.

"You will tell me? I wasn't going to force the subject..."

"I...do not know the customs of this land so well, and am unsure of how this would..." she searches for the correct words, "affect your opinion of me."

Dwight stands up and kneels. "I give you my word as a knight that I shall not judge you by your past deeds."

"I wrote to my brother weeks back, as I first came into Woodland city. And have written him twice since. No word has been sent, and I fear..." She takes a deep breath. "I said before my father tried his best to occupy me, to keep me from trouble." She continues much more quietly, not meeting his gaze, "He signed a marriage contract. One I did not
honor."

He returns to his seat. "Even in my culture, that is a serious matter."

"Arranged marriages are common in our lands and forced marriages are not unheard of, though they are rare. Even more rare is a soul-pairing. None would dare to deny the last. Even a marriage of state would be dissolved to unite a soul-bonded pair." She still refused his gaze, instead focusing on some unseen point on the ground. "Palis was ambitious, seeking to gain my father's good graces, and eventually his position. My
father knew none of this, though Palis saw me as his way to gaining my father's trust. A political coup, very profitable for himself and his family, a place of honor and note in court."

"It sounds like he was the one who was not acting honorably."

"Again, what he was doing was not unheard of... Father thought it a blessing sent by the gods, finally something he could do to settle me down. A marriage offer would settle me down, and perhaps father thought that Palis would finally be able to contain me." She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, though the night seemed warm. "There is a custom, old as the earth but not used in the last centuries, not even in my great-grandfather's lifetime..." She paused, trying to think of the best way to explain. "Elves are not a prolific race. There have been at the most three children in most families..." She steeled herself, but looked to him for some sort of strength. "To ensure that a union will be fruitful, it can be demanded that this be proven before a marriage will take place. Palis demanded this of my father, and he agreed."

Dwight replaces the hand on Shallan's shoulder, and waits a second to talk. "I can see why it might remain unused. It sounds like a dreadful custom."

Her fists balled in barely supressed anger, her voice quiet and dangerous. "My father only did what he saw was best, as no other would have me... I did not know of any of this, and even if I had, I STILL wouldn't have agreed." She was tense, as if a spring wound too tight. "The contract was signed, and Palis asserted his right. It was a legally binding contract. When I refused to comply, he hit me. Once."

He inhales audibly but says nothing.

She gave a tight, controlled smile. "He did not raise a sword for many months after that, I think. My training with my brother had paid off much better than I could have ever thought." She looks down and consciously relaxes her clenched hands. "What I fear...is the disgrace I have caused my family. I left not long after, kissed my father and brother goodbye. As I said last night, a visit is all I shall probably be allowed, and then not for many, many years."

Dwight gives a small chuckle. "Forgive me. Just thinking it was something we had in common."

She closes her eyes and rubs her hands on her face. "It would have happened eventually. Perhaps it was my fault for not leaving earlier..."

"Perhaps not. But we cannot alter the past."

Shallan takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. "I do not regret my decision. I regret the consequences I left behind, but once I met Jacob, and then being here, I have never been happier."

Dwight also takes a deep breath. "I guess you could say that you didn't leave bad circumstances, but rather you came into better ones?"

A relieved but tired smile lights her face. "Heruamin, ‘my lord’..." she bows her head. "Your friendship comforts me, no matter the road ahead, or the road behind."

Dwight puts his arm around Shallan and squeezes briefly, then lets go. "A
worthwhile sentiment. But I fear we should be more concerned about the road ahead, based on what we've seen over the past two days. We have many concerns in front of us, especially dealing with a dragon."

Shallan nods, and stands to stretch. "Agreed. In the meantime, get some sleep. I shall wake the next two." She moves off to do just that, but turns back only slightly to whisper, "Kaima eithel, Astalder."

(Sleep well, Valiant one.)