RUN

Arya ran.

There was really little that she could do beyond focusing on putting one foot in front of another, angling it so that almost no sound declared her presence. She weaved across the trees, placing her feet carefully over their roots in order to leave no trail, tilting her torso opportunely to make sure that non a single hair from the fox-Rider that she was carrying would fall and thusly beg for them to be followed.

As the elf whisked them through the night, lighter than a whisper and as fast as an arrow, David played puppetry.

He remembered the first times he had turned into a fox, before his mind would adapt and synch with the new form, the feeling of everything looking too big, being too loud, too smelly...

He was feeling the opposite. The white stallion that he had hijacked, with the blessing of Arya and the relatively quiet acceptance of the herbivore, besides not trusting the carnivore-hunter-stranger in his head was also fucking difficult to pilot, and that was without taking into consideration the effort David had to keep in order to strangle the horse's survival instinct.

Horses were made to run over great distances in grass plains during the day, David was having the stallion gallop his way through the underbrush in a forest on fire at night. Everything looked smaller than he was used to, thanks to the changed perspective, and his senses, like everything else that evolution had gotten its hands upon, was optimized for a very specific environment.

Needless to say, that horses weren't made for running a breakneck speed at night, not across forests on fire, and not while being hunted by a party of Urgals that acted far smarter than David would have believed them capable of.

A horse's hearing is much keener than the human one. They use their hearing for three primary functions: to detect sounds, to determine the location of the sound, and to provide sensory information that allows the horse to recognize the identity of these sounds. Horses could hear low to very high-frequency sound, in the range of 14 Hz to 25 kHz, while the human range went from 20 Hz to 20 kHz. Horses' ears could move 180 degrees using 10 different muscles, compared to three muscles for the human ear. Horses were able to single out a specific area to listen to. This allowed the horse to orient itself toward the sounds to be able to determine what is making the noise.

Needless to say, the horse's keen hearing was pretty much wasted in the chaotic mess that was fire roaring, Urgals stomping, bark breaking from the heat, and the constant hammering sound of his own hooves slamming against the compact ground.

Smell was less than useless while the horse was guided less than a couple of meters from this or that line of roaring fire, while his lungs started to burn because of the thick smoke.

Like many herbivores, horses had evolved having eyes on opposite sides of the head, only lightly angled forwards, in order to be able to keep watch against predators, and were particularly effective when in vast planes. While the light from the forest fire was making visible the surroundings, David was guiding the horse basing his movements on a very small angle of binocular vision that the position of the herbivore' eyes allowed.

Given that both as a human and as a fox, he had grown used to a single eye on the right side of his head, he was adapting to the change extraordinarily well, even as he knew that the horse was a bait soon to be killed.

A distant part of him was aware of the concern emanating from the dragon that was sharing his mind, and the strangely smooth ride that he was getting while being carried by Arya, that he could hear had shifted his body in order to hold his fox-shape with a single-arm, letting her wield a sword that she had already used twice when an Urgal had spotted her with the corner of the eye.

After a mad run that truly showcased the kind of mental fortitude David could exercise, since the distance between his real body and the horse he was controlling grew at mind-blogging speeds, the white horse found himself in an enclosed ring of fire, Urgals moving just beyond the flames like sharks smelling blood in the water.

He considered galloping across the band of fire, but when it became white-hot, David knew that he might as well stall the unavoidable pursuit at the best of his ability.

A tall man walked across the flames that refused to burn him, as fearing the one that had breathed them into existence: he looked human except for his crimson hair and maroon eyes.

David's consciousness had already left the control of the horse, finding much more productive assaulting one of the unprotected minds of the Urgals in the service of the Shade. He didn't wait to consider the implication of what he was doing, he had no time to absorb the finest points of the Urgal's culture, he had no time to figure out a way to twist the thoughts that shifted through his grasp like water when he tried to manipulate them, because, with his mind's eye, he found himself staring at twisting shadows and whispers of agony. A presence that was pain and suffering, cruelty and hunger. All those elements were already there twisting the importance of something, guiding the Urgal's consciousness like trough a bridle made of sheer cruelty.

As David felt the mind of the Shade zeroing in on his presence, he retreated with a lurch feeling himself back in his fox form with a brain-burning headache a second later. His lone eye blinked owlishly, and he saw the trees flash past him and Arya as she ran with him held with his arm.

Even as he considered the implication of hat he had witnessed in the Urgals' mind, and fought to oppose the encroaching tiredness, he clamped down on an image that he had found: the two male elves, Gwenlin and Fäolin, bound and beaten, but alive. Then darkness overcame him.

He came to the sound of gently lapping water over a rocky shore, with the rustle of thin branches and slow, heavy breathing that didn't come from his own lungs.

Blearly, he opened his lone eye, shutting it immediately after since the sunlight had almost blinded him, before blinking several times as he tried to recognize his own surroundings.

He was just beginning to categorize the smells that reached his nose when a wave of pure, unadulterated joy and relief washed across his senses.

I'm here. the thought ran across his bond with the hatchling without David's conscious input, along with a wave of calmness that expressed his reflexive appreciation of the sheer trustworthiness intrinsic in the bond. Even when he was hiding the horse, the hatchling had been with him with a connection that ran deeper than the one that clearly resonated in his mind, he could recognize it even better now as he stirred.

Distractedly exchanging a constant flow of joy-satisfaction-hope with the hatchling, the one-eyed fox took stock of the environment.

Arya was huddled in her travelling cloack amongst the roots of a weeping willow whose branches arced gracefully over a small river, with the point of its leaves barely brushing over the cristalline water.

As his eye roamed over the surroundings, he immediately noticed that there was a remarkable difference between what he was seeing and the forest where he had set up his own burrow. The ground was a bit harder, the dirt less moist and colder, they were likely at a higher altitude than where they had been assaulted by the Urgals and the Shade.

Blinking while his fine snout tasted the air, feeling a chill that matched his observations, he lapped a bit from the river, before curtailing the enthusiasm and curiosity of the hatchling at seeing that he could change form. Mentally showing her the images of how he had changed, over and over again, he had to contain a snort at the indignant feeling the hatchling displayed when he considered turning her into a fox.

His consciousness roamed over the bright mind of Raven, who despite her own feelings had done her best to keep the hatchling distracted, and whispered against the quiescent mind of Fleur, who apparently hadn't awakened since the attack.

Satisfied with the state of his home, he trotted towards the asleep elf, willingly rasping a paw against the rocky ground in order to awaken her without being stabbed for the disturb.

A pair of green eyes shot open immediately, darting around confirming the safety of their surroundings before the she-elf shoulders loosened the stiffness that announced violence. After having confirmed that they weren't about to get killed, she narrowed her eyes at the fox sitting on his haunches in front of her: "Why are you still a fox?" she asked tiredly, only to receive a slow blink of his eye as an answer.

Can we take an hour before leaving? We both could eat.

Frowning at the proposal that had whispered against her consciousness strong enough to be heard but light enough to not result invasive, she nodded sharply, unknowingly mimicking the movement that a hawk would make.

In front of her eyes, she witnessed the fur receding under clothes that weren't there a moment before, ears retreating and becoming rounder, wile the knees of the fox turned in the opposite way. The change had been smooth and effortless, taking less than a second, and once more Arya wondered what kind of magic David's people were capable of.

"Gwenlin and Fäolin were captured, but alive, I saw it from the mind of an Urgal." he announced as he took off his iron necklace, which turned in a robust and large trunk after he carefully placed it against the ground.

That information shot through Arya's mind like a red-hot brand, suddenly bringing hope with it and immediately being discarded in favour of remaining true to her duty. For the first time, the she-elf felt heavy the tattoo of the yawe on her shoulder.

With a shudder as she followed the unlikely Rider down the staircase that led to the forest floor, she answered: "We need to get you to safety, they will get free and buy us more time..."

"A Shade was leading them." he cut her halfway through her explanation, "so he won't be letting the trail go cold anytime soon, but he is controlling the Urgals somehow, there were shapes of death and agony between the memories and conscious thought of the Urgal, I don't think we can outmanoeuvre a horde guided by a single mind."

"He was distracted during the ambush, likely from the attack of my companions and your taking control over the horse." she confirmed David's theory over the prowess of the Shade: "He won't repeat the mistake."

David sighed heavily as they started to walk across the lush grass, only to stop and grin like a loon when his scaly companion made herself known with a squeal that made him acutely aware that he wasn't the only one with a ravenous hunger: "Grab some fruit for yourself and me, will you, we're going downstairs to fill our gullets."

As David approached, the hatchling leapt into his arms, huddling close to his chest. While she hadn't suffered wither hunger or harm, she seemed frightened. A puff of dark smoke blew out of her nostrils while he stroked her neck comfortingly and walked downstairs, murmuring softly. He kept still as the dragon buried her head in his shirt. After a while, she decided that she had enough of physical reassurance and joined him as he started eating off another ham.

He ate quickly, as Arya did while he kept feeding the hatchling, always remaining mindful of his fingers, until she decided that she was full and curled up in his lap, quickly falling asleep.

With an indignant squawk at being ignored, Raved made herself known as she landed over his shoulder: "Hunted! she croaked, "Hunted!"

Distractingly caressing the breast feathers of the needy bird, the newly christened rider couldn't help but compare himself to some alternative version of Snowhite, snorting, he eyed Arya just as she finished eating an orange with wide eyes, likely being unaccustomed to such fruit given the latitudes where her home was.

"If you show me a map, I can help plan, otherwise, I'm blind." David spoke quickly, aware that the short reprieve they gained with the narrow escape wouldn't last long.

With a tired nod, Arya grabbed the white sheet she was offered along with a pencil, briefly letting her fingers trail over the unfamiliar consistency of industrially made paper before quickly stylizing a map of the area.

David had frankly no idea of how Alagaësia was structured, only roughly remembering that the elves were in a forest up north, the dwarves inside some mountains south, and that there was a desert randomly placed without any consideration for the kind of ecosystem that it implied.

"We're here." Arya pointed somewhere at the base of a mountain group, "Near Utgard."

They were just south of a group of mountains that seemed encroached on both sides from a large river that apparently led to a vast amount of water, not having a scale of referment, David couldn't make out the effective distances, not that he expected Arya to be able to draw an accurate map in less than a minute without a ruler, even if it would have been dead useful for that exact situation.

"What is that city?" he asked, already thinking of the possible shelter it would offer.

"Ceunon." was the laconic answer.

"And we've been assaulted here?" the one-eyed man asked pointing at a location east of them.

"Just across the river actually, even an elf can't run that far in less than a day." she replied.

The steely tone brought David to look her over once more, finding bags under her reddened eyes that he hadn't noticed before. With a grimace, he realized that Gwenlin and Fäolin were her friends, and knowing them prisoner of a Shade was likely worse than thinking them dead. Give me a complex magical problem anytime, but keep away other people' feelings...

He took a deep breath after dedicating a few second to figure out a way to reassure Arya without relly finding one that didn't sound callous. "One step at time." he settled for saying: "We find a secure position, then we figure out a way to save them." a slow purring from his scaly companion underlined his words, even as the elf shot him a scathing look.

Arya shook his head: "Their sacrifice will be best served by keeping you safe from harm, that means away from the Empire."

A snort was David first instinct, however, he tried to smooth down his first reaction. He wasn't really Hero material, he knew that much, if there really was a need for him to deal with some problem that potentially threatened him, he was down to apply his not irrelevant abilities to find a solution, otherwise, he had always been more than satisfied with researching magic and create stuff that was material for legends. Letting Gwenlin and Fäolin on their own was obviously the wisest thing to do, even the more logical. Sadly, he was also aware that it was a dick move.

David knew that Gwenlin, Arya and Fäolin were pretty much aware of the risks when they decided to start carrying the egg around, and that each of them was more than willing to sacrifice everything in order to complete their task. That Arya didn't hesitate in leaving them behind in order to get David away spoke volumes about the kind of dedication in play, and the one-eyed Rider wasn't keen of gallivanting around saving people that objectively should have just remained home, or planned an effective method of transportation before actually setting off across enemy territory.

And, at the end of the day, Gwenlin and Fäolin weren't his friends, or even acquaintances. After only a few days, David could barely remember how it was like to not have a bond with the hatchling, which was a creature so genuine in her wants and instincts that made everything look new through her eyes, even to an old fucker like the newly christened Rider.

Had he some more experience with the magic of Alagaësia, he would have probably discarded Arya's opinion and headed out to face this Shade, knowing that he simply had to do something to his mind in order to give her the opening needed to kill him, but as he was... his lone eye fell on the asleep form of the hatchling on his lap, purring contently under his distracted ministrations, with a constant feedback of satisfaction-warmth from her mind.

He had always been pretty independent, no need to burden himself too much. In the Potterverse, he acted as he wished, and the rest of the world could either be on board or go fuck itself. Now, as he considered the opportunities that his skill in Occlumency granted him against the opponents he could find, he found himself anchored to the dragon in his lap, new and genuine as she was.

"Your people' territory is the deep forest, yes?" he asked, surrendering to the hard reality of the circumstances.

"We must continue west or north, the Shade won't let his troops leave us a gap to slip through." she shot down David's route before he had a chance of voicing out loud, "And Ceunon is off limits, we're only us two, and even if I'm surprised at your skill with your Mind, you're not combat-ready."

"You can't infiltrate Ceunon with a pet fox at your side? If you change my fur' colour, I could pass for a dog, people tend to see what they wish to see." he proposed, already seeing her shaking her head.

"A woman travelling alone with a dog? In this area? It would be an alarm for every imperial spy of the city." she countered, staring intently at the map as if a solution was going to present itself.

"Your people can't spearhead us trough the Shade' troops?" David was scrambling for the last straws by then, and by the pinched look on the elf's face, she knew that too.

"Too far to act in time."

"We'll lose them on the Spine then." it appeared to be the last option, when he had another idea: "When I touched the egg, I was trying to scree the future, I heard a name... Carvahall means anything to you?" if they were going to be alone and hunted, David wanted every help he could possibly get.

Arya's gaze sharpened, returning his as she stopped blinking for several seconds: "You'll need to tell me how your magic works one day." but her tone was resigned, "Carvahall is a small village in the north, just over the block of mountains we are at the base of, then following the river towards the North Sea."

"We have food and shelter, I can run as a fox while you rest inside, and you can carry me while I sleep as a fox: we can keep it up for several days without stopping for more than a few minutes, and you're faster than a horse." he quickly underlined the vast advantage they had over the opponent: speed.

"If we can lose them on the Spine, we can double back and pass just south from Ceunon and return into the Du Weldenvarden... I'll need to explain our situation to my people, they were expecting a communication yesterday." she nodded, giving her stamp of approval to the plan they had put together.

David took the few minutes Arya spent talking to a bowl of water she had filled from the sink with taking a hot shower and dressing with something heavier and more adapt to mountain-crossing than the light clothes he had been wearing while living in the Trunk. Wool socks and heavy boots covered his feets, while military coloured cargo pants went on to protect his legs. A t-shirt went over his torso, covered by a jumper that he vaguely remembered being made by one of his house-elves, who had knitted it out of the wool sheared from the sheep that had lived in the vast cavern that he had turned into a proper Wonderland.

Arya looked at him strangely once she saw him, probably confused by his uncommon attire, which seemed even stranger than the one she had grown accustomed to seeing him in, only for her jaw to fall slightly as he opened a drawer only to slid out of it a dagger which appeared was made of some kind of bone.

"I was surprised too the first time I saw this." David cheerfully threw to her as he secured a leather harness in order to have the weapon secured to the small of his back. It wouldn't get in the way if he had to run as a human, and would be easy to unsheathe if needed.

Seeing as her eyes didn't abandon the weapon, he wistfully recalled of its origins: "Hagrid, bless his giant heart, gifted me this when I was 13 years old, the blade then went from my elbow to my fingertips." It was made of horn, it was straight and had a side like a saw, while the other was so sharp it could shave the hairs off his arm. The hilt was an engraved raven, and the leather on the handle was comfortable despite the many years that had passed since then. If it was because of the stasis enchantments that David had placed over every container, jar, shelf or drawer of his life because of paranoia that he would forget about what he had, like some LVL 81 character in Skyrim, or because Hagrid had truly some magic that seeped into his creation, he couldn't tell.

"I have rested enough to run, you can rest." Arya stated as she turned to walk outside, only to be stopped by David's answer.

"My home can't be moved as a necklace while I am inside." David shook his head, "I would be asking to be kidnapped or sealed away if that was the case, rest a bit, and don't talk to the hatchling with your mind, please." he said as he surpassed her on the stairs: "I'll be running west, they won't be looking for fox tracks after they lost yours over the river."

And so the greatest and most deadly game of tag of David's life begun.

As he left the Iron Trunk, he heard Raven flapping towards Arya and getting started with a riddle.

Hiding his nervousness and fear at the idea of being actually captured by the sickfuck that was the evil king, he turned into a fox after having secured his home to his neck.

David ran.

AN

If I had more time, I would have written an omake in which David gets stuck into the horse, and the future of the land is balanced upon the future of the stallion.

Stylo, the last chapter was a bit of a transition, and David was a bit out of contact with the rest of the world because he was getting used to having the equivalent of a curious toddler in his head, plus being able to communicate with Fleur for the first time since her transformation was unsettling, even if in a good way.

A chapter that kind of sets the tone for the story, David is less self-absorbed here than in the last chapter, in which he was a bit at a loss with what to do when dealing with a hatchling dragon that shares your mind while being immediately considered the last hope for freedom and rainbows everywhere. There's nothing like the threat of slavery and mind-raping to get someone's ass in gear.

In the last chapter, he kind of only reacted to Arya's decisions, only to plan on his own and force Arya to follow his lead, because she's kind of sworn to protect him, and he was going to do as he wanted regardless of her wishes.

In this one, I tried to blend together Arya and David' planning, putting in some considerations that he does about himself now that he's confronted with a dramatic situation without the buffer of discarding his humanity into a greater World-Soul. David's starts to find out that he cares about the hatchling for real, and not only because she's useful, while Fleur remains in the background.