Note: Hope you guys liked the last chapter. Anyway here you go.

Um…bread…yeah, bread is good…and some vegetables like carrots…and apples…what else do men eat on long trips?

Threwen scurried about her cottage, packing food for a particular Rider that would be leaving soon. Having never done this before she was a little lost.

What would I bring? Hey, now there's a thought. Men probably don't have taste any different from me!

Things went a lot smoother after this little discovery.

Cheese! Rannyn loves cheese! He has it every time he visits.

She stopped. Every time he visits… It was true he visited her a lot, every week. She wouldn't call him a friend since she made a point of not having any friends, but he definitely cared about her. She could tell. He wouldn't have kept contact with her for months now if he didn't. But she was on a mission and she couldn't afford to have any emotional ties.

Threwen jumped when she heard a knock on her door. She ran her fingers through her hair and quickly answered the door.

"Good morning." Rannyn grinned down at her. Threwen was tall but Rannyn was still taller than her.

She grinned back, although inside her stomach was churning. "Hi."

He stood there for a second and then said, "So…are you going to let me in?"

Threwen remembered herself and opened the door wide enough for him to enter. With his back to her she took a deep breath and plunged in.

"So…I packed you some food." She pointed to the pack on the table.

His brown eyes brightened when he saw this. "Great!" He rummaged through it and inspected the food she had packed. Still looking through the bag, he said absentmindedly, "You know, you'd made someone a good wife."

Threwen turned red and when Rannyn realized what he'd said he did too! She looked at the ground and shuffled her feet.

He's a pawn, a way to get to the goal, nothing but an instrument, a tool. Threwen repeated this over and over again in her head. She had to keep that in mind. Follow orders. Get in, get done, get out. Simple as that.

Simple? Ha!

Rannyn cleared his throat and shouldered the pack. "I need to get going," he said quietly.

Threwen nodded and then said, "Where are you going to be headed?"

He seemed to hesitate in his answer. Threwen started to get nervous. If he didn't tell her that would be bad, horrible even. That would mean that the plan would go wrong. She would be blamed. The worst case scenarios started running through her mind.

But he told her, eventually. She was actually a little surprised that he trusted her. Most of the Riders only told their wives where they were going, if they had any. A lot were unattached. Either that or their families had been killed in the raids.

Rannyn headed out the door and then stopped, turning back around. "Thanks."

She nodded, looking down. She thought he'd left and was daring to look up and watch him go when suddenly she felt arms around her. He was hugging her! She was not only surprised but completely shocked. No one had hugged her in years! Let alone a man she hardly knew.

Well, alright, a man you do know but don't want to; A man who is just a device to carry out your mission; A man who should be keeping his distance; A man who you should be telling to keep his distance.

Except Threwen hadn't had to fight off anyone for years now. This had never been a problem before. She simply blinked not sure what to do. But it was only a quick hug, kind of a way of saying farewell…for now.

And Threwen found herself hoping he would come back safely.

"I have the location."

Threwen tossed the piece of paper with the position scribbled on it onto the dusty desk. Now that there were no Riders to interrupt they used their original meeting place. It helped that Rannyn had shown Threwen an easier way of getting inside that was less conspicuous.

Gríma smiled wickedly. His pale hands slowly reached for it. But then he stopped and said, "It needs to be taken to the master."

Threwen frowned. "Can't you communicate with him through…you know…?" She motioned in the direction of the throne room.

Gríma shook his head. "No. I need you to take it to him. I have no further use for you. You need to receive more orders from him. But you have to be quick. You need to leave right away so you can get there before they can reach…"

"I know, I know. But why must I do it? Don't you have someone better?"

Gríma eyed her and then said, "Aren't you a messenger?"

Threwen clenched her teeth. She hated that title. She thought she had been elevated to a better position with this job. Apparently not.

Gríma plastered on that unnatural smile and said, "I thought so. Now you take this," he handed her the note, "and go right away. Get it?"

"Got it."

"Good."

It was a hard ride but Threwen made it, she hoped in time. She entered the tall tower, knowing her way around very well. She made her way to the door she had been through so many times.

Knock. Knock-knock.

A voice boomed. "Who is it?"

Threwen took a breath.

"The Messenger."

End Note: Thanks for reading.