Since I didn't mention it last time... (And I'm not going to say this again...)

I do not own anything that you recognize.

Thank yous to Paige, Nendian, Wizard116, Sarah, and Breezefire! And now, on with the horrible… horror that is my fic!

Chapter Two: Inner Demons

The sounds of weapons being drawn awakened him, and he scrambled to his feet. All around him, he heard nasty chuckles and the same goddamned bandit from before addressed him.

"We-el, lookie wot we got 'ere. It's our li'le Bard, still wandering. Still pre''y, too. You lads c'n 'ave 'im when I'm done." Julian yelled, the only thing he could do, and the bandit backhanded him. He yelled again, and swept his feet sideways as he hit the ground. The sensation of his legs hitting someone elses, an "oomph," and the sound of someone else hitting the ground told him that he'd hit the man. Two of the others grabbed his feet before he could run away, and hauled him upright, as he heard the bandit leader getting to his feet.

"So, we got a fighter 'ere." Julian could hear the smirk in the bandit's voice as he struggled with his captors. The leader backhanded him again and he staggered. The bandit grabbed his chin roughly and turned his face.

"Good face, slender jaw. Blue eyes, but that don't matter. I like wot I see," he drawled.

Julian was suddenly aware of the sound of running hooves behind him and assumed it was another bandit, returning from who-knew-where.

Shouts and panicked yells from the other bandits made him change his mind. The new rider jumped over him, so close that he could feel the wind of his passing, and the two holding him let him go. He took the opportunity to run, and scrambled out of the way. The sound of knives being drawn caught his attention quite easily, and he shoved himself backward until he reached a tree, then drew his daggers, little good though they would do.

Steel clashed on steel as he listened intently to the sounds of pounding hoofbeats, frantic neighs from the bandit's horses, and screams from the bandits themselves. No sound came from his mysterious savior, though. Julian could disctinctly hear the thuds of hooves on flesh as his rescuer's mount kicked bandits multiple times.

Finally the sounds of fighting stopped, and he tensed, listening for any sounds. Hoofbeats approached him, and a distinctly Shin'a'in accented voice sounded from what seemed like a far way up.

"Are you alright?"

"Y-yes, thank you. Who are you?"

The man snorted, then said, "Rowen shena Tale'sedrin, of the Shin'a'in. And you are?"

"Bard Julian J'Erthan of Valdemar. Thank you for saving me."

Another snort. "Those bastards had it coming. They've been tramping through my forest, day in and day out, scaring my game away and waylaying travelers. Can you stand?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Good." Large, callused hands grabbed his forearms, and hauled him up, then Julian heard what sounded like a hoof scuff the ground.

"So you'll be going now?"

Julian caught something that sounded very like lonliness in the other's voice.

"Do you want me to?"

"You can get back to the road, can't you?"

"Actually, no, I can't." Julian lifted his unseeing blue eyes to where he figured the warrior's head should be.

"Try a little higher, Bard."

The warrior must be tall. Julian raised his head, and suddenly the warrior's fingers were on his chin, lifting his face to a high angle. 'Lady, he must be almost seven feet!'

"Sheka. You're blind?"

In bewilderment, Julian nodded.

"This is perfect!" The man started laughing and Julian was confused even more.

"Sir? Is there something wrong?"

The laughing ceased. "No, but it explains a great deal."

"Oh." Julian sheathed his daggers.

"You can't get back to the road, then?"

Julian set his mouth. "I can try."

"Nonsense. You can stay with me until it's light. I know this forest, and you can feel your way, but some of those bandits might still be around."

"Um, thank you."

"Don't worry about it. Come on."

Julian felt for his pack and realized that it was gone.

"Where's my-"

"Bag?" the Shin'a'in finished. "I have it."

A hand closed on his wrist again, pulling his hand up to rest on the flank of what felt like a horse.

"I would have you mount, but as my mount's back is quite broad, and she doesn't much like other people on her back, you'd be best walking beside me."

"Thank you." Julian could not ride, and on top of that, horses seemed to have a near instinctive hate for him specifically, Companions excluded of course.

The horse started moving, and Julian was forced to walk along with it, feeling the horse's muscles moving under his hand. His companion was silent, leaving Julian to contemplate the situation. He smelled forest, and a musk that was neither horse nor human, but a mixture of both. Julian put it down to the fight and his frazzled nerves. He could hear the Shin'a'in breathing, but not the horse. Odd.

"Cautiously, he began to run his fingers up the animal's flank to where the head should be- "Stop!" said the warrior in a panicked voice.

"What?"

"Don't- just- don't do that."

Strong fingers closed around Julian's wrist again and placed it further back along the horse's flank.

"Alright."

They walked in silence for a long while- rather, led and followed,- until the rider stopped.

"Here," he said. "This is my home. There will be a rough step down about three paces in front of you, and then a door. I know It's a bit dark- oh. Sorry- I didn't mean-"

It's alright," Julian interrupted him. "I'm used to it, and it starts to get rather funny after a while."

The horseman began to lead him forward again, and true to his word, there was a high step that led to a floor on a lower level than that of the forest.

'Why isn't he dismounting?' Julian wondered.

Hooves stepped through, following along behind him, until Julian walked through what felt like a curtain of vines. The air was distinctly cooler in here; were they in a cave? The clop-clopping stopped, and the Shin'a'in spoke again. "There's a pallet to your right, next to the wall, on the ground. I'll bring a basin for you to wash up with in the morning, as well as some food. Is there anything else you need?" He sounded almost wistful, Julian thought.

"No- thank you," he said, and heard the Shin'a'in turn his horse to leave, then something occurred to him. "Wait!"

"Yes?"

"Why- why are you helping me?"

"Because I want to, and because I haven't had the pleasure of human company in a long time."

"Ah," he said wisely, and left it at that. The Shin'a'in left the room, and he felt his way over to the wall. It felt cold, but dry, and definitely like rock. This was definitely a cave.

Feeling his way along the wall, his foot finally nudged something soft. At last!

He dropped down onto the soft pallet, stretched out onto his side, and tried to go to sleep. The horse-human-musk smell was stronger here, and Julian assumed it was because this was probably where Rowen slept. Sure enough, when Julian was just dozing off, he heard the seemingly ever-mounted Shin'a'in come in and drop down on the other side of the room.

Rowen awoke to sudden cries in the night.

Enemy! His instincts screamed. Where?

Hackles raised, he rose and grabbed his sword before he realized that it was just the Bard. Quietly, he put his weapons down and stepped across the small room to where the lad lay. He couldn't use the pallet- merely lie down like a horse or lock his legs and sleep standing up- so there was no reason the Bard couldn't use it.

Said Bard was thrashing about on the pallet, obviously in the throes of a nightmare. He looked like he was grappling with someone, who had him on his back. He reached for a knife that wasn't there, and stabbed at his invisible enemy. Rowen watched with interest, and the fight finally ended with a short scream from the Bard, who clutched his face and sobbed. His blind eyes opened, and flickered around the room before closing again, and he sighed, a tune now emanating from his closed mouth, nothing Rowen recognized.

He sighed, lay down again, and went back to sleep.