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Nessy2008: Thank you so much. I hope you like this chapter as well.

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Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nothing.


Chapter One

Dinner hadn't been as awkward as she imagined it would be. She'd been uncomfortable with accepting the meal he paid for, though truly it was paid for by the Alliance itself, as unaccustomed to "charity" as always. Not to mention that having something cooked for and then served to her was an experience she hadn't had since she was a young teen. She'd been taking care of herself for over a decade now. She hunted, grew, and foraged for her own food and cooked every meal she ate herself. Sitting there, a plate of food appearing in front of her so simply, was strange. But what was new? Everything about the entire day had been strange to say the least. She couldn't deny that it had been good meal, though.

She'd underestimated how hungry she truly was despite how her stomach roiled with nervousness. She became so wrapped up in eating that she almost forgot about the towering man who sat across from her. Almost forgot, until he set his mug back down on the table. She glanced at him, then, startled as she realized that her current behaviour might be considered rude.

"Um…" She said after swallowing, "Thank you. For the food." Inwardly she cringed at how forced the words sounded.

He tilted his head at her and she wasn't sure whether or not it was a nod of acceptance or confusion. Evidently, it was the latter. "Not that I wouldn't pay for your meal if I had to, but I haven't spent a penny of my own money on any of this, the food or our room. Did they not tell you that we have been given personal funds for such needs?"

Aileen shook her head, "They gave me this packet of papers that I'm to read. It supposedly contains all the information I need to know about this assignment." She found it difficult to grit out that last word without sounding too bitter. If Othailos noticed her tone, he made no comment on it. She was grateful for that as she glanced down at the papers in her wet lap and she realised that despite still being soaking wet, the papers were as dry as they had been back in Stormwind. She peered down at them curiously. Enchanted paper…

"I have yet to read through the entire thing. All of this came upon me at such short notice… I've hardly had a moment to even process what's happening." In a moment of uncharacteristic elegance, she added, "Please forgive me if I seem ignorant."

Othailos nodded at her and raised the cup to his lips in his own surprising gracefulness. For someone so large, his movements were delicate. "Rest assured, it took me a while to grow used to the idea of this arrangement. Before three and a half weeks ago I had been living a nomadic lifestyle for over eight decades. I spend my winters in Feralas and work my way up to Ashenvale each spring, and in summer I travel between Darkshore, Winterspring, and Azshara. I used to make trips to the World Tree on occasion…" He trailed off from there, a momentary flash of sorrow appearing on his face, but it didn't linger. "Where have you spent your days?"

She marveled at his words. Eight decades. She knew that elves lived long lives, but it was still surreal to be sitting across from a man who'd spent her life three times over as a nomad, yet who didn't look a day older than she was. She found herself wondering how old he truly was as she answered, realizing that her life must seem so dull in comparison. "I've spent my entire life in Duskwood."

He glanced at her shoulder and she realized that his eyes had locked onto her bow. "Your last name is Hunter, do you come from a family of hunters?"

Aileen could not help but stiffen. She so hated to talk about her life as an orphan. It was embarrassing to feel so ignorant about where she came from, about who she was. "No… I grew up an orphan. My true last name was forgotten and I have never known it. I chose Hunter after I set out on my own as it became my trade. Hunting has kept me alive and so became a part of me."

He smiled at her. "It would seem that you and I already share something in common. I too am a hunter at heart. I fully understand your choice in the name. The hunt is as much a part of you as any name."

Somehow, despite the day's events that brought her here, she was oddly glad to be sitting at this table across from this strange man. The fact that she felt comfortable in a stranger's presence was the sort of breakthrough she didn't know she'd been looking for. A part of her was proud of herself even as the rest of her screamed to run and hide in the shadows as she had always done, to slink back to her little hole in the forest for the rest of her life. Perhaps all this would do her good. Maybe exploration was what she needed. After all, hadn't she spent her free years as an adult exploring the forests that everyone else feared? It was hard to say…

As she finished off her food, she fidgeted uncomfortably in her wet clothes. Othailos, in the observant way of a fellow hunter, took notice and offered to take her to the room. It was a room they would share, a fact that shattered the small amount of confidence she'd gathered at the dinner table. The nervousness returned as he left, shutting the door behind him, so that she could change into one of the outfits they'd provided her with. It was disturbing that the clothes fit so perfectly.

As she changed she thought over the earlier meeting once more, this time with more scrutiny as the earlier shock had worn off for the most part. The clothes were most certainly not the only disturbing thing about this entire ordeal. They knew so much about her despite never having met her before. They knew her background, lifestyle, and personality before she'd even arrived. They knew about the house, they knew she'd been an orphan despite no one even knowing her true last name, they knew she spent every day alone. They knew more about her than the handful of aging women who'd raised her and the other children. And in all seriousness, how in the world did they know her clothing size?

They had been watching her, she was convinced of this now, and for long enough to know her habits. They'd had to have done their digging, too, in order to find out about childhood and how she behaved as a person. She supposed, with further thought, that in reality it wouldn't have been a hard task to find that information. All they had to do was do some snooping in Darkshire. It wasn't a large place, hardly even a town in reality. What disturbed her was the fact that they'd been watching her… How, and for how long? It was a blow to her skills as a huntress that she hadn't even suspected anything at all.

Frustrated, Aileen tossed her wet clothes on the floor. The leathers were not enchanted against water as her bow was, and apparently that packet of paper. They would be ruined.

She sat on the bed in the corner of the room in silence for a few minutes. She needed the space to clear her mind. She needed to let everything sink all the way in. She stared at her bow and quiver, hanging on the hook that was meant for a cloak or jacket. At least, even if she couldn't go home, she had her bow. It was her lifeline, the instrument through which she survived. Without it she wouldn't be here. Othailos had been correct, the hunt was as much a part of her as any name. At least he understood.

She took a moment to glance around the room. There were two single beds, thankfully, and washtub in the corner behind a screen, on the wall hung a rather disconcerting portrait of a woman with eyes that seemed to be too big, and at the ends of the beds were piles of belongings. A backpack that she'd discovered was enchanted, a cloak folded on the floor, and beside the cloak a pair of leather boots.

She wondered if she should read through the packet yet but then remembered that her guide was still waiting outside the door. She hurried over to it, hoping he wasn't too exasperated with her yet, and opened the door to find him leaning against the wall in the hallway. His eyes were closed and he made no movements even after she opened the door. For a brief moment she wondered if he was asleep standing up before he opened his eyes and glanced at her.

"Ah, good," He said, stretching as he walked into the room. "I'm glad to see that the clothes fit despite everything."

She looked at him questioningly as he sat down on the bed. What did that mean? Had she made him angry? It had almost sounded like a vague insult. "What do you mean?" She worriedly asked as she sat down on her own bed.

He was untying his boots, still giant even when hunched over. He slipped one off and tossed it beside his pile of things at the end of the bed, and then looked at her. After a moment his eyes widened. "Did they truly not tell you?"

"Tell me what?" There seemed to be many things she had not yet been told. Perhaps this was another thing in the all-knowing packet of papers she had yet to fully read.

He sighed. "I cannot believe them… All this hassle, all this waiting, all these complications, now they send you here without a moment's notice and try to pass you off with only a packet of papers? By Elune these people are incompetent…" He angrily untied the other boot and threw it into the pile. "They were supposed to send another person on this trip, not you. The woman never showed for any of the prerequisite meetings leading up to the assignment so they sent a couple guards to see what was the matter. They found her dead just outside of her home, murdered by some group of thugs called the Defias. I arrived here a week ago, set to leave for Theramore the next day. I was told of the change in circumstances and that they would notify me later of my new charge. I waited three days before they told me that they'd chosen one of their spares from the list. You, Aileen. I had expected them to have briefed you more thoroughly than through a packet of papers. I also expected to see you here a day or two earlier…"

He trailed off, his eyes locked onto the floor in frustration. She felt for him after all that had been sprung upon her that day. So she was not the only one who'd paid the price for this program. They'd all suffered here. Aileen, Othailos, and that unfortunate woman. She suddenly glanced down at her clothes. There was something unnerving about wearing clothes intended for another person who was now dead. She was just glad that at least her guide understood how she felt. They were strangely similar. Both hunters, both living solitary lives, both forced into this frustrating situation. There were definitely worse people she could have found herself stuck with.

Othailos sighed again. "...What a day…" He said, rubbing his eyes. "What a week…"

Aileen inwardly agreed with him. What a day indeed... "I had no knowledge of this at all. I really should finish this packet as soon as I can. I intend to read it on the boat tomorrow. It will keep me busy on the trip to come."

He nodded as he shucked off his shirt and she blushed, inexplicably startled by the sight of another person's bare chest. It had been many years since she'd seen any but her own. "That's a wise choice," He settled into the bed, curling into the blankets and suddenly appearing so much smaller. "I have heard that the trip to Theramore will take a week with good weather. You will definitely want something to do on the boat. I swear I nearly went mad on the voyage from Auberdine… I'm just thankful that this one won't be as long a journey at sea as the previous. It took two and a half weeks to get from there to here." He reached for the candle on his own night stand. "When you intend to sleep, will you please blow out the other candle? Though on Kalimdor I was accustomed to sleeping during the daytime, the light is still difficult to sleep through."

"Of course," She said, though honestly it was a bit odd for her to sleep in complete darkness. Usually she kept the fire going whether it was day or night in Duskwood. It was always so cold that she needed it going unless she planned to be gone for the day. Still, she'd be fine without the candle. It was the unfamiliar place that made her nervous about tonight's rest. She reached for the candle and blew it out, feeling for the blankets in the darkness. "Goodnight." She said into the dark room, finding herself actually relieved by the lack of light.

"Goodnight." Othailos murmured back, his voice thick with weariness.

She pulled the blankets around her and stared into the dark, her mind bombarded by questions. They'd chosen her because they were desperate, because they had no more options. The clothes were just a coincidence then, right? So they hadn't been watching her for that long, had they? But then she remembered that Othailos said they'd chosen her from their list of spares. To be on such a list they had to have been observing her after all. The thought made her infinitely uncomfortable. She tried to shake it off. It was a list of spares, she was just a spare. There was no reason to be so unnerved… Her attempts at rationality were unconvincing even to herself.

Gods, she wanted to go home. Longing for her bed, though far more uncomfortable in comparison to this one, filled her. The familiar lumps in the mattress, the soft furs and skins she'd hunted for and skinned herself. The glow of the dying fire and the warmth of her one room house. The kitchen area, her roughly built chair, the antler and bone knives she'd made glinting in the dim light from where they hung on the wall...

Outside the rain pattered on the roof and though nostalgia plagued her, the day's events coupled with the soft sound of the rain lulled her to sleep before long.