A/N: Special thanks to those who reviewed since the last update - Free Though, Saraa Luna, Blackish, and Professor-Evans. To the Professor's question, it was subtle, but Asch/Oriel was described by Lord Keetch to be just average and a little on the lean side. Asch is actually quite muscular and broad for a ferret, but that only lands him on "average" in terms of otter standards.

This chapter is by far the longest- just over 7,000 words. I cringe, but I just felt that it had to be this long. I read it and read it and couldn't figure out what to omit. Gaaaaah. At least I've always known that this chapter was going to be pretty long. Good news is that for quite a while, none of the other chapters should be nearly this long.

Without further ado... the chapter a lot of you have been waiting for.

My Lady's Keeper
Asch Waycaster

I beg tonight all my wits reveal more than meets your eye. - "The Glass of Fashion" sung by Galt Aureus

Bread and lentil soup. It's nobeasts' favorite, but it was a healthy-enough lunch. It's what you get when a hare is the cook. We figured he ate up all the tasty stuff and shoveled left-overs into the pot. For a creature notorious for clearing out pantries, he sure knew how to cram things down our throats. Literally.

My team was sittin' at our usual spot in the mess hall, once again listenin' to Red go off on another one of his stories. Even though I don't like to clump beasts into stereotypes, I couldn' help but think that the chatter-box squirrels idea came from my own teammate. Anyways, being a woodlander and all, he got the chance to visit any part of Floret without even a sideways glance. He was our eyes and ears on an open and unbitter Southsward, so at least most of his talk was alright.

And sometimes it was real interesting.

"So then Oriel whips the javelin around like a... well, a whip - and he smashed it down on an otterguard's kneecaps. I never heard anything like it! The poor sap was rolling on the ground, and you could see the slick white bone poking over from his ruined legs." The squirrel was a pret-ty good storyteller, but he liked to stretch the truth. He flicked his spoon off of his tray and twirled it in the air.

"And then - bam!" He slammed the table with the butt of the utensil. "The Edgewise Knight brought his javelin down," he explained, curling two claws around the top of the fork in some weird mimic of Oriel's maneuver. "And he was on top like this, see? And then fwoosh!" One paw steadied the spoon while another sailed across his head.

"He bounced off the pole and into the stands! Never saw anything like it! Gah!" the squirrel slammed the table with the flat of his palm. Fidchell only paused to give him a flat glare a'fore gettin' back to his food. "I was waaaay on the other side of the stadium," Red complained with a twitch of his tail. "Just my luck!"

"I don't think he 'bounced' off the javelin," I said in mid-slurp. "Just doesn't sound right."

"Oh what do you know? You weren't there," he scoffed back.

I changed the subject. "So what do beasts think of him?"

"Who? Oriel?"

"Yeah."

Red didn't even have t' think before sayin', "They love him, of course."

This time, Barlow interrupted us. "Well I don't. What did he have to gain from hurting the Otterguard? Vain beast." Red gave the rat a disapproving eye-roll and waved a paw like he could physically bat away the complaint. Barlow really knew how to sap the fun outta things.

"Lord Swalestrom doesn't know how to lose," the squirrel replied. "Oriel wasn't hurting anybeast before, so why bother? Now the riverdog's more popular than ever."

"Why?" I goaded.

"Gates, I have to explain everything," Red scowled. "He took down twenty Otterguards single-pawed."

"You're joking," accused the rat. It's not everyday when a vermin calls a woodlander out on lies. Really, I took down only about seven or somethin' before I vaulted my escape.

"Well you weren't there," the squirrel snubbed back. "It was the greatest thing I'd ever seen. Asch, you should've been there! I would pay up a hundred Golds just to see you square off with him."

"I wouldn't fight him," I shrugged, bitin' back a laugh.

"Nobeast knows the first thing about him, but they're obsessed about him," Red gushed. "Everybeast is reading and performing his works." He took one look at our faces and shook his head at our confusion. "No, no! The dead Oriel. That beast kicked the bucket ages ago. Some poet mouse or something, but now everybeast keeps reading his books like there's some secret clue about Oriel - the awesome Oriel, the not-dead Oriel."

Barlow clicked his teeth before grinning. "You want me to put a pillow on the ground in case ya swoon and faint like a maid?"

"Shaddup!" Red wrinkled his nose in a challenging way, but he just sat down and slouched over his cooling meal. I shook my head and turned to Fidchell.

"So," I began. "What do you think of Oriel?"

His amber pupils hovered around a corner of his vision while he swallowed down a mouthful of bread. "Nothing."

I snorted incredulously. "What? C'mon! You've gotta have an opinion of him."

"He is a really good fighter," Red agreed.

"We're fighters, he's an entertainer," the fox replied casually. "Besides, what do I care what the woodlanders do with their time?" We stopped a while to think about that.

"The woodlanders are who we fight for," Barlow answered weakly.

"We make our living protecting them, not feeding their gossip. It's their world, not ours. Red can go do what he likes in his own free time - he's a woodlander - but we're vermin, and this Oriel stuff is none of our concern." He spoke with the tone of a frustrated parent. I turned back to my half-finished food; I can't explain it, but I kinda felt ashamed at myself for no real reason. Even Red was distanced, unsettled by the accusing way Fidchell flung the word 'woodlander' at him.

Still, Oriel wasn't some scum out for attention or to hurt creatures. I had to at least tell 'em that much. "He's not a bad beast," I said lamely, tilting my head while stirring the bowl of cloudy, lumpy broth. Nobeast challenged me, so I didn't get a chance to explain m'self. Even if they did, I had no idea what I could tell 'em without spilling the general's secret about some war dangling over our heads.

At the very least, I thought to myself, Lady Corinne would get t' understand Oriel.

Balanced on the barrel, I waited patiently for Lady Corinne to appear. I didn't know what to expect really... Gates, I didn't even expect her t'show up. I'd waited for about an hour, which was usually a bad sign as far as meeting went. Still, my mind made up reasons for her lateness. Maybe she didn't see the message on the flower petals? Perhaps that day just wasn't a good day? What if somebeast saw the message before she even realized it? She could've gotten lost. Too many things could've gotten wrong.

But anyways, I stayed on the edge of Southsward Square, watchin' crowds shrink and swell like the tides, keepin' my eye out for a lonely and lost-lookin' ottermaid. I thought to myself that I should've picked a less crowded spot, but what's done was done. Besides, Lady Corinne was likely t'find Southsward Square if all she had to do was follow a crowd.

And boy, what a crowd it was.

Every full moon, all manner of businesses opened up stands and carts in Southsward Square. Sure, there were markets in Floret every day, but the Night Market was pretty backwards; it ran from sundown to sunup. Well, most beasts got tired a few hours a'fore the sun peeked over the horizon, so pretty much dead right before dawn. For a long time, I'd have early leave from training and tutoring so that I could help Ma with her cart. It was just a little hunk of wood that didn't carry much- stack of quilts, some pawcloths, aprons, tablecloths... Sometimes, we would be at the Night Market the entire time and not even get a single Copper.

It didn't matter much, though. Ma did it for fun and Birger got paid enough for being part of Sword and got extra for bein' my handler. For me, it was the only time when I could be a ferret and blend in a bit. I would sit on my paws and drink in the sights and smells- oh, the smells especially! The air was thick with the scent of charcoal and firewood, greasy roast pigeon cookin' on a spit, fresh bread, soups of all sorts... It was exciting and every which way I looked, there was color and light and smiling faces and all kinds o' things to distract 'em from me.

When I was particularly confident of a friendly crowd, I'd go out to get a bit o' my own attention (under Ma's watchful eyes, of course). Ma made me promise not t' throw daggers or show off fightin' skills, so I did a bit o' juggling and pawstands and little stuff like that. The smallest kids were my favorite. They had no idea that I was a ferret or even knew what vermin did, so they clapped the loudest. They even called me "Mister Red Otter" and the compliment made me glow. Sometimes if I put a bucket on the ground, beasts would put coins inside so that I could buy some of the market's food.

But General Dirk put an end to that nonsense when I grew older. I was a soldier, not some artistic panhandler. But I was still allowed t'help Ma with her quiltin' business- sellin' the quilts, not stitchin' 'em. Every time I tried, Ma would snap me upside the head for doing a hatch job of it. But anyways, I always hauled the cart to the square and back home for her, and talked t'beasts if they fancied a conversation with a strange creature. A lot of times, it was a youngster that was dared by his friends and there were times where things were... difficult.

"Excuse me?"

I whirled around and saw an ottermaid with an ash-smudged face. A very familiar ash-smudged face.

"My lady!" I nearly toppled off the barrel just t'do a bow, but I managed to steady myself in time.

"Oh please, please!" she said. "Don't bow! It'll draw attention!" I stopped in mid-gesture and straightened my back, coughin' into my fist in a painful act of casualness.

"By your sudden reaction, you must be Oriel," she stated so softly I could barely hear.

"Yes," I said stiffly, like I was reporting to a superior. She looked far from anybeast of power, though. I was so used to seein' her on the balcony and in flowin' gowns - all serene and queen-like. But standing right in front of me, she was actually real small - like a kid's body that'd given up growin'. I mean, her curvy body told me she wasn't a child, but the top of her head barely reached the bottom o' my chest.

And in a plain tan dress, white apron, ash-marked head scarf, she was dressed like a common serving maid, and the smudges on her cheeks made her look a little like a pitiful beggar.

"You look different," I told her, trying my best to hide my accent. Sure, I was disguised as an otter, but she and the other nobles spoke so proper. That, and I wanted Oriel and Asch to be as different as night and day. Who knows what would happen if she added things up?

Lady Corinne just shook her head and giggled, smoothin' the servant's gown with her paws. "You like it? It's the newest fashion of Floret!"

I cocked my head. "My lady?"

"I had Bree swap places with me in my chambers," she beamed. "Oh - Bree is my serving maid. She told everybeast she was going to clean my fireplace but we just switched clothes." She twirled and I thought to m'self that she could make any dress look flattering. "She's spending the night in my bed while I just snuck off. The ashes on my face were my idea- just to be convincing. I look like a real working girl, don't you think?"

"I... suppose, my lady."

"Oh, just call me Corinne," she ordered lightly. "Out here, I'm just an ottermaid. And you are just Oriel." She tilted her chin a little. "Is that your real name? Oriel?"

My mind raced as I scrabbled for something clever t' say. Somethin' a real hero would utter. I latched on to something and held fast. "Call me what you will. Be it hero, fiend, companion, stranger, it makes no matter. I am what I am. Your confidante, your protector."

"By Day, By Knight," she nodded. "One of Rensa's works."

"I-"

"I read, you know." By the way she carried herself, I didn't doubt it. Her tone softened a tad and then she smiled warmly. "It's a romantic piece. Come, let's walk. You know a lot about me, but I want to know about you."

Side by side, we waded through the crowds. Beasts gave us enough room to meander through the stands. I guess it was the pawful of knives at my side, or maybe it was because we carried ourselves with a bit of a noble air. Either way, nobeast harassed us, which was good.

I kept an even pace, paws clasped behind m'back while she bounced questions off of me only to come back empty-pawed.

"So is your name Oriel? Your real name? And I want a straight answer. No more riddles or reciting from plays."

"No."

"Would you mind telling me your real name?"

"I'm afraid I can't," I replied.

"Why not?"

"I made a promise not to give my true name."

"Who did you make that promise to?"

I smiled a little. "Do we have to talk about my identity? I would tell you if I could, but I am bound by my word." She seemed perplexed by me, a polite yet defiant servant. I was about to apologize, but my lady shrugged it off and walked on with her nose tipped a little higher in th' air.

"You writing a message in a flower petal was clever," she said, back to the tone of a lofty lady. She had the poise of one too - a wrist tucked under a paw and held just below her chest. "You read that from Argyle's works, yes?"

"Yes, my la- Corinne. But please lower your paws. It looks suspicious, I think." She dropped her arms and held them at her side, suddenly with a smile lighted with mischief.

"You know, I was always taught to clasp my paws," she told me as she stopped to breathe from a stand full o' scented candles. The dirty-faced otterlady turned and continued with my stride, nodding to the merchant as he waved. "Mother always said that holding my paws together kept them from fidgeting."

"You don't say." A long, awkward sorta silence followed, and she stopped to do some investigatin' at a stand full o' sparkly baubles and knick-knacks.

A merchant squirrelmaid looped a shell pendant around some twine and strung it about Corinne's neck, talking as quickly as her claws fiddled with knots. "It's quite beautiful," the lady marveled.

"It's a lucky charm for otters," agreed the squirrelmaid. The pendant was a bony-white coiled shell sliced in half t' show the curvin' chambers that ran along the inside. The outer layers had a tinge of pink on 'em, like the shell'd washed up on a sunrise shore and soaked the colors.

"Do you fancy it?" I asked as I reached for the pouch at my belt.

"No, no." Lady Corinne shook her head, and the merchant's face soured before the ottermaid plucked two Silvers from her pockets. The rejection was not for her wares, but for me payin'. The squirrel's ear-tufts sprang upward at the coins. I winced at the expression.

"It's actually three Silvers, miss," the peddler piped.

"Ah, quite right." The lady plunged her paws back into her pocket before I stepped forward.

"Two coins," I demanded. Lady Corinne gazed up at me with wide eyes.

The merchant was adamant. "I'm sorry, but it's-"

"Two."

She wrinkled her snout and made a noise that sounded like a polite snort. "Two Silvers and five Coppers."

"Two Silvers."

"Two Silvers and two Coppers."

"Done." Lady Corinne had only watched while the heated exchange sailed back'n forth over her head. She hardly did anythin' to object when I laid the four coins onto the cart and led her away from the somewhat-richer peddler.

"I was going to pay for myself," she said sullenly. "Two coins. That's a drop in a pail."

"For you, perhaps," I said, my anger gone. "But for the rest of us, that's nothing to sneeze at. Besides, a noble should never allow herself to be swindled... even if it's for just a little coin."

She frowned a little as she toggled with her new necklace. "Are two Silvers a lot for you?" The look in her eyes were a mix of guilt and pity. "Is that why you were so upset?"

My pace fumbled a bit. "No, my lady. Two Silvers isn't much to me. I'm not poor by any means, so please don't think too much on that haggling scene."

"Then you won't mind if I pay you back," she said in a half-order-half-question kinda tone.

"Consider it a gift," I replied.

She pursed her lips and avoided the next couple of carts no matter how much the peddlers invited her. I bit the inside of my cheek, nervous as she steered us into the main stream of shoppers. I had worn long sleeves, but every time a beast bumped shoulders into me I felt the paint brush off to reveal a patch o' red fur. It was awful, weaving through the beasts and prayin' that Corinne wouldn't get a glimpse of anything odd.

"Did you grow up poor?" she asked suddenly.

"Not particularly."

"What did your parents do?"

I scanned the rows of carts and spotted Ma. She was hunkered down on a chair, knitting a scarf while beasts passed her by in droves. I thought t' make Oriel drop by and pay a visit, but it was risky. Besides, the otterwife seemed content and her cart was missing a few quilts, so she must've had some business.

"Oriel?"

"Hm?" I turned sharply to her. "I'm sorry, m- Corinne. What was that?"

"I asked you what your parents do. Or... Do you have parents anymore?"

"They're around... But for what they do, I can't say."

"Oh..." She looked down and frowned before glancing back up at me. "Did you grow up around this area here?"

"Yes."

"Then can you please point me in the way of your favorite restaurant?" she asked. "I'm famished!" I doubted that a highborn like her ever had the chance to feel anything more'n a craving, but I wasn't about t' say that to her.

"Do you like wood pigeon?"

She shook her head. "Anything but that, please."

"Smoked fish?" I dodged a tyke as he raced past us, carefully watchin' him to make sure he didn't pick our pockets.

"That will do."

I led her to the edge of the mass and doubled back the way we came. Along the way, she asked me a few more questions- that time about my childhood. I couldn't offer her much information 'cept that I didn't go out much. It didn't help her with her guesswork, but it kept her busy. We wound up at a little corner with some logs piled around it for benches. Woodlanders lounged about, barking laughter as they slurped at soup bowls or ripped meat straight off a stick. Lady Corinne kept a straight face, but I knew she didn't approve. Anybeast with a drop of highborn blood would turn their nose at the behavior of commoners' pastimes.

"What would you like?" I asked her.

"I'm not so hungry," she said, fixating on a cluster of beasts as they competed belches and roared with triumph.

"I can't say much about them," I said, "but I can vouch for the food... at least, it's good for working-class beasts."

The lady switched her gaze to the fire in the middle. A giant cooking pot hung above it, frothing and dribbling water that made the fire hiss in outrage. Around the blaze were sticks. Some had skewered mushrooms, there were some roasting apples, some sticks had skewered shrimp, some rich bastard afforded a pigeon leg, and a pawful of sticks had some nice crisping fish.

A little ways from the fire was a picnic table that held bowls and buckets of raw food. Sliced fruits, bulge-eyed fish, slabs of raw pigeon parts, curled shrimp, carrots, potatoes, you name it.

My lady craned her neck. "What's in the pot?"

"Hard to tell," I admitted. "It can be anything, really." She didn't say a word, so I nodded to the picnic table and said, "The stew has whatever the customers want. Anybeast who wants a bowl has t'pay a Copper. If he wants to add something extra to the pot, he pays an two Coppers - one to add extra ingredients and the other to ladle it into his soup bowl. They give us what we need t'make our food and we cook it. It's called an open kitchen."

"But what if you don't want to eat what's already in the pot?"

"Not a lot of commoners are real picky eaters."

A fat vole approached us, waving a ladle about while he rubbed a greasy paw on a filthy smock. "Hey you two! You gonna buy something? Smells ain't free!"

"Just give us a second," I called back to him. I turned back to my lady and whispered, "Do you want to eat here? We can go someplace else." Really, she looked a little frightened, but her pride battled her heritage. In the end, she swallowed and told me in a wavering voice, "I want the roasted apple." Pride won the battle over her upbringing. I felt strangely in awe of her and yet worried.

"Right," I said tightly, leading her away from the bawdy group and to the picnic table. There, I paid my dues, found two clean sticks, and speared one with an apple and the other with a vandace. She sat down on an isolated log while I stabbed the sticks into the dirt, anglin' them perfectly against the fire before I joined back with her.

Her legs were parallel and slanted off to the side while her paws locked around her knees. If she was sittin' on a proper chair, she'd look all regal and stately. On a low-set bench, though, she looked real awkward.

"Do you eat like this all the time?" she asked in a hushed voice.

I thought about it a bit. "No. But I don't mind it. I kind of like it, actually."

She breathed in a great big sigh. It was the kind of noise Ma made whenever I'd run headlong into the thick of her patience. The sound that told me that somebeast was disappointed.

"Is something on your mind?" I asked. She didn't answer immediately. "I'm sorry," I said. "Did I do something wrong, my lady?"

She evaded the question with another question. "How long have you trained for fighting?"

I let my shoulders relax a bit. "All my life."

"So you were inducted into Sword from an early age?"

I blinked. She could've easily figured that out from what Asch told her. "Yes."

"What's it like in Sword? Being raised with a blade in paw and side by side with vermin?"

"It isn't bad," I shrugged. "Even the parts with vermin are alright."

"Do you like being in Sword?"

My brows shot up. "My lady... Of course!"

"Why?"

I thought a minute. I couldn't mention Birger, a lifelong debt to General Dirk would bring up some questions, and working with vermin wasn't supposed t'be fun and dandy.

"I like fightin'," I said simply.

She tilted her head and leaned a little closer to me. "You could fight in the Otterguard."

I paused mid-bite. "I could."

"Father says that he'd like you to join the Otterguard," the ottermaid said. "If you joined, maybe he can allow you to stay as my champion. In the Otterguard, you would get better payment, better promotions, and you wouldn't have to work with vermin - I mean - I apologize," she said, looking down at her paws. "They're your friends, aren't they? I shouldn't judge."

"They're good beasts," I agreed. "Most of them."

"My maid Bree told me you were particularly close to your messenger," she dug. "The red ferret, was it? He told her that you two were like brothers."

"Brothers in arms."

"Brothers in arms," she repeated softly. "So you were close? How did you come to know him? And how did you come to Sword in the first place?"

"I really shouldn't say more." I wanted to punch myself. I didn't mean to be so boring. I didn't want Oriel to be so bland. My mind screamed at me, yelling at me and demandin' why I didn't bother to make up some wild tale. It would be a lie, but at least Lady Corinne wouldn't be bored to death. I seethed on the inside as I got up and pulled our sticks out of the ground and offered her the roasted apple.

She bit into it gingerly, blowing at it every now and then. "It's not bad," she admitted. "A little sour, but not bad."

"The fish is good," I reported. Another long silence as we minced on our food and watched the commoners with disinterest.

"The offer still stands with you joining the Otterguard," she piped.

"Even if I joined, I doubt Lord Galen would like me as your champion," I told her gently. Lady Corinne stopped and contemplated that bit of information, her sharp grey eyes focused on the fire. She didn't stay quiet for long, though - not that I minded her talk.

"But is the general paying you?" she persisted. I didn't answer right away. "After the first tournament, I secretly gave him some of my jewels as payment for you," she said. When she saw my expression, she assured me. "Don't worry. They were old and nobeast would start looking for them. Besides, they were a bit gaudy for my tastes. But..." Then Lady Corinne's forehead crinkled in a frown. "But they were meant for you. They were easily worth ten Golds."

Ten golds was enough to buy a small cottage! To think that she could just give away a cottage all willy-nilly like that. But I guess it wasn't just 'giving away.' It was a gift to a loyal servant that would never betray her. But even though those jewels, those ten Golds, were meant for me, I was a loyal servant to another too.

"The general doesn't lie or cheat," I told her when I swallowed some of the fish.

"I'm not saying he does, but... I just wanted to make sure you knew that I appreciated your help... that you wouldn't starve or anything."

"A starving beast wouldn't fight so well as me, my lady. Besides, I owe General Dirk my life. If he wants to keep the jewels, they're his."

"Oh..." She looked down like she was ashamed, and I saw her twiddling with her stick. The half-eaten apple was stuck on one end, making it look more like a wand than a shameful waste of food.

"I'm not saying he's a bad beast," she defended. "Whatever it is, I'm sure he has his reasons. He was a great friend to my parents, you know."

"I've heard." I had just taken a finishing chunk out of my dinner.

"When I found out I was being matched with Egan, I was upset. Only the general would help me." She smiled at that and looked up to the distant rooftops as she twirled the apple-wand in her paw. "He helped Mother back when she was my age, so I was hoping he'd help me. I didn't expect much, but ah... he brought me you. For a while, he felt like my only friend." I stayed quiet, but she continued anyways. "I don't know if he told you this, but I even told him my plans for after you win the last tournament."

My ears perked (my folded, otter-disguised, aching ears). "And what's that?"

"To travel." Her ladyship said it so simply, like it was a well-known thing.

"Travel?" I echoed stupidly.

She laughed airily. "The general was surprised, too... except that he took to the idea pretty quickly. Everybeast thinks I want to get married, but I want to see things before I settle down and fatten up with cubs."

"But... But it's your duty," I pointed out. Her smile died a little. "You're supposed to get married, aren't you, my lady? If you wait too long, maybe nobeast would want to marry you."

"Maybe... Maybe not." Her voice was frosty and guarded. "The Swalestrom name is a powerful one, though. And if you win the competitions for me, a noble husband wouldn't matter anymore. I can marry out of love and I can still further my family line through him. After all, a female can still bear pups until her fortieth season - maybe more."

"It isn't always easy bearing pups," I reminded her. "It gets harder as you grow older." Not many males thought about birthing that much, but not many males've seen a cub die just hours after its first breath.

"I won't be that old," she retorted. Then Lady Corinne breathed in a lungful of air- a gesture that said, 'I'm trying to be nice here'. I listened. "Anyways," she said, her voice back with her wonderful, inquisitive self. "I was going to ask the general later if I could borrow you for something... If you don't mind."

I blinked owlishly. "Borrow me?"

"Would you like to be my bodyguard?" she asked brightly. "I will need a bodyguard if I'm to travel. My father wouldn't allow it, but the general can spirit me away if I asked nicely enough. Only, I want to be safe from vermin and robbers if I go. Would you come with me? Would you like to, Oriel?"

I gulped. "I don't think he'll let me."

"I can always ask," she insisted. "You will come if he agrees, would you?"

"But where would we go?"

"Oh, I don't know. It's all so exciting!" The ottermaid was practically bubbling with joy as her arms moved to form shapes to her descriptions. And then it occurred to me that she wasn't just pretty, she seemed to shine.

"Ayda always tells me about Parma," she gushed. "I have to see the capital of Vargo! The towers glimmering in the sunrise, the moon hanging over the lagoons! And mountains! Mountains, Oriel. Have you ever seen the mountains reaching up to pierce the sky? To stand on one would be like standing on top of the word. The Jayso Isles are lovely, I hear. They're so hot, but they have the most beautiful lush forests. And up North past the deserts are the wild roads."

"Wild roads?"

"Nobeast goes up there - not without a boat to bypass the desert. After the desert is forests, I hear. Beautiful, green, cooling forests full of wildflowers and vales and teeny villages that don't understand the idea of coins... Silly beasts trapped in a simpler time. There isn't much trade up there, but they say it's where Joseph the Bellmaker is from. A magic place called Redwall Abbey. I'd like to see it," she said dreamily, letting the apple-wand droop until its point brushed the dirt.

"It sounds dangerous," I said.

"That's why I want to bring you."

"It sounds time-consuming."

"Better start soon, then."

"What if I don't want to go?"

She huffed. "Then I can ask the general for one of his Swordbeasts. The ferret, maybe." If she was tryin' to make me jealous, she wasn't doin' a great job of it.

"But why me?"

"I've seen what you do," she stressed. "You beat Egan and Father's Otterguard. It takes real skill to pull that off."

"But I'm just a commoner."

Lady Corinne smiled in an almost-shy way and shook her head once. Twice. "Oriel, if even one of your many qualities is common, I'm sure a lot of wives would have a lot less to complain about." She scooted closer and I scooted away, blushing like mad all the while. I felt like I was burning up, like I was gonna melt if I stayed any longer. Melt...

I bolted upright, suddenly aware of the bonfire's heat and the sweat that endangered my disguise. "We should probably go now," I hurried.

"A-alright," she stammered. I didn't even do the polite thing and offer to pull her up. I didn't want to risk wet paint on her paws... Not with the heat blazing so close by. "What do I do with the apple?" she asked.

"Just stick it in the ground," I said, plucking it from her paws and stabbing it into the earth. "A beggar is sure to pick it up." With that, I led her out of the haphazard, open kitchen and back out into the crowd. Lady Corinne was confused by the suddenness of it all, and she kept on trying to latch onto my paw. I didn't let her, though I let her hook an arm around my elbow (it had long sleeves anyways).

But for all she knew, she'd said something that had unnerved me. It was a troubling sign to her, that her champion would be so edgy about a request.

"It wasn't you," I assured her. I just didn't want ya t' know the vermin in me. "Some of the males around that bonfire were looking at us strangely."

"Oh." She sounded relieved.

We walked around a bit more, getting back to the hang of things as I felt the paint begin to dry all over again. I relaxed a bit and I let her drink in the sights and smells of the rest of the market. It was her first time doin' anything with commoners. I could tell. In fact, I was pretty sure that the merchants could tell that there was somethin' so naive about her. For one thing, that scuffle with the shell-necklace taught me that she didn't know how to haggle. And why would she when she could easily afford any price? I felt a little bit of pity for her but dashed it away in a heartbeat.

After all, what was a Night Market compared t' a decorated ballroom? Ha. A banquet trumped a monthly market - no contest!

"So what's a banquet like?" I asked her suddenly.

"Oh, it's wonderful," she chirped. "Gowns and chandeliers and jewelry and food and music and fancy gowns and... Oh, the dancing is the best part. Oriel, is there a place we can dance here?" The ottermaid twisted to look around, loosing her arm from my elbow while she searched.

"Er... dancing?" I steadied myself and pulled us towards the opposite direction. "That would be over - "

She followed my gesture and yanked me in that direction, urging me along. The curtain of beasts gave way to an open corner of the Night Market reserved only for musicians and dancers alike. The journey from marketplace to dance area didn't take more than a minute, but I was a little put off by her sudden burst of enthusiasm.

"Come and dance with me," she said gleefully, paws wrapped tight around my long sleeves while she guided me towards the squirming mass of dancers. The jaunty music wafted in the air, fillin' my ears and minglin' with the dancers' laughter. The beasts were practically flyin' on the floor, waving their arms and stomping every now'n then. One mouse practically crashed into three other couples before he ended up on the ground, giggling into fits. Ballrooms were always so quaint and fine; why couldn't commoners just try to act better'n their station?

"I dunno," I squirmed, slipping into a more ottery sort of tone. I caught the mistake and corrected m'self. "I don't dance much, my lady. I've never danced ever, actually."

"Please?" she implored, separatin' from me and twirling in mid-step so that she could perform a mocking bow. "Will you please do me the honor, good sir?"

A thousand thoughts whirled in my head. A thousand possibilities, a thousand things that could go wrong... But a realization struck me with clarity: there was a beautiful maid that would be alone on the dance floor and the idea seemed wrong. I didn't realize that I had stepped forward until she took my paw in hers and pulled me into an empty space.

"You take your paw and put it on my waist," she instructed. I just shuffled my footpaws and looked around like a lost and pathetic kid. She touched the back of my paw and I flinched away from her touch. The otterlady looked at a loss.

"I'm trying to teach you the proper method..." Her voice was soft, confused. But as bad as she felt, it was nothing compared to me. My insides turned all to liquid and my limbs turned to jelly. I'd seen plenty of beasts dance all romantic before. Eyes to eyes, chest to chest, one set of paws held together while one paw strayed down t' the female's waist... intimately, languidly, seductively.

My heartbeat thrummed and I held my breath as she folded her paws over my wrists and held them up. Like a stupid puppet, I kept them suspended in the air while she placed her palms against mine, standin' a pace away from the rest o' me.

"I get it. You're shy." Her smile was reassuring and I felt a little better. Slowly, we began to rotate in a circle. Nothing exciting or spontaneous like the other dancers... Just a slow and easy motion that I could follow. "A dance would be too personal, so I understand. But here..." Corinne drew our paws together in a way that blocked our faces from each other.

"Here is the Underhill Waltz," she explained, like she was talkin' to a toddler. "It's a simple mole dance with the easiest steps." She pushed our arms back apart and at a more comfortable length. "Now just mirror my steps," she instructed gently.

I did just that, though she chided me every time I stared too long at our footpaws. A second later, I was guiding our direction as we dodged through wild couples and squeezed between the moving walls of beasts. Every step was a span of movement, every breath a heartbeat's mark of time. The music floated in the air and hummed in our ears, the lilting combination of fiddles and flutes and drums willing us to go on. The torchlights seemed to swell and merge, brightening the colorful dresses and flowers, and whitening the smiles all around us. We made several rounds and I found it hard to take my eyes off her.

"You're getting good at this," she said suddenly. I blinked and stuttered a quick "thank you." She giggled and, despite the fact that I'd been pouring all my concentration on rhythmic moving, I felt the need to explain myself.

"It must be my training. Swordplay is about footwork and attention to surroundings, so... I guess I subconsciously..." A quick inspection of my steps told me that I had successfully multi-tasked. "...I guess I'm just good at it."

The ottermaid dropped her left paw and spun like a top, recovering herself and replacing her paw back against mine in less than a second. She changed our routine, letting go of her left paw before steerin' me in a circle with her right. I followed the ebb of her movements and mimicked her straight posture with my left paw tucked behind my back. We earned a few skeptical looks from the other dancers and I gulped for the hundredth time that night.

"I'm doing the gentlebeast's steps," she smirked. "You, the lady's. Let's see if you can take the lead." She let her arms fall at her side and I slowed down. Nothin' was left to propel me and I stood frozen in place. A dormouse couple bumped into me and I uttered a quick apology as they scoffed at my clumsiness.

"Alright, this is getting nowhere," Corinne sighed with an amused smile. She lifted my palms with her own and curled her claws into the grooves of my paws, locking us in place. "We'll start from the beginning again until you're comfortable with all this. S'alright."

We did the routine again, turnin' round and round in circles; she guided my steps while I navigated us safely. The lady did a brave twirl every now and then while I sometimes circled her, one paw against hers, while she rotated in place, propelled by my movements. I thought we'd go at it the same way for the rest of the night but she was full of surprises.

She grabbed both my paws without warning and whisked us down an empty aisle of space. My heart was poundin' at the break in routine but I fell in step with her. With a push of her body, she was spinning freely before latching back to my paws with perfect precision. In a weird act of impulse, I took her paw and wheeled her in a circle while she spun, the skirts of her dress swelling and swirling at the rush. Our arms formed a perfect arc and when she ran out of momentum, she collided against me. I steadied her in time, but found my paw cupped against her waist and her chest brushing against mine.

I didn't stammer. I didn't offer any apology. I didn't even think.

I just bent my head down and found her lips against mine.

C/N: So... Jade's travelin' a little bit so she might be kinda slow at gettin' back to you. Also, it's the same reason why she's updatin' now instead of tomorrow. She's at conferences, so free time comes at random.

Anyways, Jade is a little new to the whole romantic writing. I tried t'help her out, but I don't think she really knows how to get beasts to feel what I felt for Corinne. I'm not even sure she knows how to write her so that readers actually like her. Anyways, if you could just report what you felt about this chapter and romance-theme, that would be great.

And for those of you who would care, the theme of Oriel's feelings for Lady Corinne is "The Glass of Fashion" by Galt Aureus. It fits almost perfectly.

As for the dancin', Jade's actually taken a dance class for a semester and actually used some dance moves in the last scene. Not exactly sure what they're called, though. Huh...

And as for the beginning, well, we really wanted to bring you lot back to my unit and what they thought. They're really important to the story, but they don't do much in the beginning. We considered takin' out the beginning section just to make the chapter shorter, but then when the real action starts, it would seem like they just showed up outta nowhere. *shrugs*

So again, please send a bit of a review on what you thought - especially if you hated the way she did the romance. My writer's only really good at showin' the angry emotions.