12
The dragon touched down again and was greeted by most of the elves, unsurprisingly Mycroft wasn't one who attended. Now that John looked more elf-like, the people of Orison found it much easier to accept him. Molly, an elf of fifty nine years, smiled sadly as they passed her. Sherlock explained through the link that she had had her eye on him for many years. She had even tried many times to 'ask him out' as the humans called it. Each put down, it seemed, made her more wary but also heightened her need to try again. Now that Sherlock was officially taken, she had nothing to do but smile and wish them the best, as was customary. John nodded and smiled back, pretending not to know what she was sour about. The next elf to see them was a dark haired woman named Sally, she looked at John and said,
'You must be a complete nutcase to be able to stay with the freak for more than five minutes. I don't envy either of you one bit. Though I will warn you, John Watson, this will only lead to suffering.' Then she turned her head and walked away into the trees.
The welcoming was over with after every elf present had given their blessing or just spoken to the couple. The crowd dispersed, allowing the two men to bask in each others company again but it was cut short by the arrival of Mycroft Holmes.
'Brother, you do show up at the worst conceivable times.' The young Holmes said as he rested his head on John's shoulder.
'I wouldn't be your brother if I didn't.' A genuine smile played upon the mayors lips, something John found far more unnerving than the fake smile that he had seen before, at least then he had known that he was hated. 'Sherlock, I am in need of your assistance.' Sherlock gestured for him to continue. 'We have heard of panic of sorts in Farthen Dûr, the queen has forbidden all contact with the varden. But, if you were to, say, take a vacation to the mountains. I've heard that they are very romantic...' The elf nodded then took John's hand and lead his partner away to the treehouse.
Once back in the room, Sherlock began packing. John couldn't help but admire the speed and single minded determinacy in which his partner conducted the job. He had neatly packed all that they would need, including weaponry, in no more than two hours. God, the man could move. John was ushered out of the house again before he had a chance to relax.
'Why do you get excited by this? And why are we going in the first place?' John asked as they climbed into the saddle once more.
'My mind becomes stagnant without things to do. When I was younger, I used to walk round the city and tell everyone what they had been doing and who they had seen that day. As you can guess, they weren't best pleased by this and most hated me beyond measure. Some still do, though only in the privacy of their own minds. As for your other question, that fact is that we are above the queen in the hierarchy so she cannot order us about, no matter how much she wants to.' The blond nodded. He didn't ask any more on the subject as he could tell it was a bit of a touchy subject. The blond moved forward so that his partner had more room behind him, which-thinking back on the last journey- probably wasn't the best of ideas. The elf behind him chuckled darkly. John thought about blushing but decided he had done enough of that to last a lifetime and so, instead muttered a stern 'Behave' to the other man. Sherlock scoffed and moved his hips slightly, just enough for his partner to feel it. Morrisa growled at him and he stilled again, muttering something about them being 'No fun' and 'spoilsports' the dragon and John huffed their own little laughs before preparing to take back to the sky.