A/N: Please don't be afraid to tell me if any of my facts are incorrect. I am relying on my memory for some things as I have read all of the books, but only own the first three. Thanks for staying with me this far. I know my chapters are short but I'm working on that. By the way, the story is set during Gilan's second year of apprenticeship.
Crowley P.O.V
We rode away from Araluen castle a day before the Gathering was set to start. We had made sure the guard for the King was doubled and he was never to go anywhere without an escort of at least a dozen guards. The assassin would need to be invisible to get to the king.
But even as we ride away from the castle, I worry. Araluen couldn't lose the king. There would be nobody to hold the throne without him, as his daughter was only eight years old and his wife had passed away a couple years ago.
I am pulled from my thoughts as my companions come to an abrupt halt. I quickly come to a stop a few paces ahead of them and realize we are at the Gathering grounds. The green grass, kept short by the animals of the forest, is dotted with yellow dandelions. Branches are strewn about in places where storms had thrown them from the trees. But it is non of this that caused my companions to stop as abruptly as they did - it is the two figures standing in the clearing.
Susan P.O.V
It's been almost a week now since I arrived and I'm starting to get bored. The first few days, I managed to occupy myself with honing my accuracy with the crossbows and the knives I have hidden in various places of my being. But there's only so much training a person can do before melancholy sits in.
On the day the Rangers arrived, I was practicing with the crossbow, perfecting the smooth action of drawing an arrow from my quiver, placing it on the bow, pulling the string into place, aiming, and releasing. By now it was more a reflex than a conscious effort, and as a result, my mind started wandering.
I stiffen when I feel an arm snake around my waist, pulling my body close to the owner of the arm, effectively keeping me from getting enough velocity to push my attacker away. At the same time, his other hand clamps over my mouth. I drop my crossbow and pull my arm back in an attempt to elbow my attacker. He nimbly twists out o the path of my elbow, but in doing so his arms loosen just enough for me to pry them off my body, allowing me to put myself out of his arms reach. After I do that, I turn around and finally get a good look at my attacker.
His short-cropped raven hair catches the mid-morning rays of the sun and reveals pointed elf ears. Ears that look like my own. To humans, of course, they looked like ordinary human ears unless we want them to see what they really look like, but it's impossible to mask the ears from other elves.
Dorian. I recognize him immediately.
Loyal, infuriating Dorian.
My knight.
We just stand and stare at each other for a few moments, each waiting for the other to speak first. Surprisingly, he breaks the silence first, with a single word.
"Why?" One word, one question, with so many other unspoken questions behind it. Why did you run away? Why did you kill that Ranger? Why are you trying to kill another Ranger? Why, why, why? We sit in silence for a few more moments as I try to figure out how to answer. Finally, I answer simply, "To save Peter." Peter...my brother.
"You should have come and told me he was captured, so-"
"So my brother could be tortured for weeks possibly months before we formulate a plan and put it in action?" I cut in.
"Why do you think he would've been tortured?"
"Morgorath was already torturing him when I got there." Dorian was silent for a long time, a look in hiss eyes that I couldn't identify, and I wasn't going to say anymore until he asked for it.
Finally, he asked, "W-what was he being tortured for?"
"Morgorath wanted Peter to spy on the Araluens for him, but he-" I took a deep, steadying breath, "he refused. You know how Peter is. Honorable through and through." Not wanting Dorian to see the moisture starting to cloud my vision, I walked over to the tree I had been using as a target and started replacing my arrows, slowly.
"So you made a deal," Dorian hadn't moved and his voice drifted over to me. "You made a deal with him, with Morgorath, to save your brother." He phrased it as a statement, but his tone held a note of questioning in it. I didn't pause in my work as I replied.
"You have an older brother, Dorian, and you're close to him, as I an with Peter. If you were in my place and your brother was in Peter's place, what would you do? Would you leave him to be tortured while you went to get help, or would you make a deal?" I can hear his small sigh even from this distance.
"That would be different," he replies, his voice taking on a hint of exasperation. I place my last arrow in the quiver, simultaneously turning toward Dorian.
"Why?"
"Because my brother and I are not royalty."
"So because I'm royalty, I can't do anything without an army behind me?"
"I didn't say that."
"Then what?" I demand. "What were you trying to say?" He sighs resignedly.
"Nothing, I suppose." A small bubble of triumph blooms in my chest but it is quickly dispersed when I remember my brother. I walk to the middle of the clearing to practice at a different range. I don't hear anything, but I sense him walk up behind me. I choose to ignore him and load an arrow on my crossbow. That's when the Rangers chose to show up.
A/N: Please, please, please if you enjoy the story, please review/favorite/follow! It let's me know people actually enjoy my story and encourages me to keep writing! Constructive criticism is also welcome!
