"I can't believe we're finally here."

Jaythen glanced at the girl next to him and noticed she was prickled with anxiousness and even a small hint of fear.

"I still say we'd have been here sooner if you would have just flown."

She frowned at his obnoxiousness and didn't honor his remark with a reply.

It was the afternoon of the eighteenth day that Jaythen had marked the sole of his boot. They stared through an arch that was carved from the ends of opposite housing structures. Through the arch they saw more of the Imperial City—people crowded together, shouting, laughing, chatting. They were in the common district—someplace Jaythen had not visited during his stay in the city—a place he really had no place in. He saw children playing in the street, unsupervised, and wearing nothing but long shirts that were stained with dirt and other manners of filth. Avalyn didn't seem to find any of it familiar, still searching for something—and for that he was grateful. They kept moving forward and finally came to a place that he was used to—the artesian market.

It was much like market in his hometown—full of shops, finer goods, and polite sellers that didn't hassle for a sale to be made.

Avalyn's eyes were darting around, taking in all the sights and movement until she stopped walking abruptly, causing Jaythen—who was right behind her—to stumble into her.

"What?" he wondered and pulled her out of the current of people that shuffled past them. She pointed to a shop that had a stained glass window depicting a rose.

"That strikes as familiar," she squinted her eyes, trying to call upon a memory but it was too far-gone to say for sure. "There was a jovial man who played coin tricks on me—pulling them out from behind my ears."

He didn't know how to respond but guessed she had been there before by her latter comment—so very specific. He steered her to the shop's doors and entered.

It was a bookshop as evidence by the lines of shelves along the walls all packed with books. Avalyn became intrigued at once and went to one of the shelves and studied the spines.

"It is so nice to see young people take an interest in books," a fellow said, the voice seeming to float above them. They looked up and saw that he was atop a ladder against one of the shelves and sorting books to their places. He was older than them by at least twenty years—he wore a cap and an intricate patterned cravat.

"Do you have any fairytales?" Avalyn asked, tipping out a book from its place to see the cover.

"I certainly do, all the collection of fairytales are on that shelf," he kindly pointed to one next to where Jaythen was standing. Jaythen crossed his arms and coughed to make a point that they weren't there for books but for answers. He disliked reading books even though he was able—the words were so small and close together and gave him a headache. She ignored him and curiously browsed the section of fairytales. Apparently she was stalling, a rope-walker, balancing on a string of ignorance and if she fell, she would gain knowledge—either good or bad—about her mother. Perhaps, deep down she would have preferred to stay as such, but Jaythen knew better.

"Sir, we were wondering if you would know anything about a woman named Alys. She would have lived around this area—maybe about fifteen years ago?"

The man jerked his head around so hard, they heard a muscle knot crack in his neck. He rubbed it and narrowed his eyes, "What would you want with Alys?"

Avalyn's eyes widened enormously, losing all interest in the fairytale she was skimming—that is, if she was paying attention to it in the first place.

"She was here then," she said it softly, seeming to know but as if she hardly could believe it.

The bookkeeper dismounted the ladder and stood up to them, "She's gone now—has been for years—and the likes of you are not going to find her."

Avalyn grabbed the fellow's forearms and curtsied to him in a most pleading manner—her eyes averted and a tremble in her voice, "Please…please do you know where she went when she left?"

He took his arms out of her grasp, suddenly very baffled at the young woman's behavior. He lifted her chin and studied her face—then sucked in a heavy breath.

"By God's green earth, with eyes like those—you could only be Ava."

Ava? Jaythen chuckled to himself and raised a brow at the nickname unbeknownst to him.

"Who are you to call me Ava?" she answered coldly. She straightened and became guarded. Surprisingly, a nerve had been hit.

"You don't remember me?" he sounded disappointed, and held his chin while shaking his head. His face suddenly lit up and he held out his finger in a momentary gesture. She pressed her lips together impatiently and he reached for the side of her face but didn't touch anything—just procured a gold coin from behind her ear.

"Marv—" she sighed with a slight smile, "—I won't be fooled with such childish trickery anymore."

"I'll say, you've grown into quite a lady—you look nothing like your mother however. The only resemblance is your wide, green eyes." He gushed and then saw the ring on her finger, and lifted her hand jovially, "Oh and you're married too! Congratulations!"

She shook her head profusely, not managing to find words to dissipate his joy. Jaythen stepped in and found the words for her, "No, we're not married."

"Oh," Marv said, lowering her hand and then released it.

"We're engaged," Jaythen flashed a sly smile at Avalyn who only replied with a forced one that hid her peevishness at his lie.

"Ah, so my congratulations still stand!" he clasped his hands together, "I would enjoy a cup of tea, would you sit and stay awhile?"

Avalyn nodded with a genuine smile on her face that time. He locked up the shop since he would be preoccupied with his guests for a while and couldn't attend to customers, "It's a slow day anyway."

He led them to the shop's lower floor where he started boiling a pot of water in the open fireplace.

"So when will you two be married?"

"We haven't set a date yet," Avalyn cut in before Jaythen could utter any more falsehoods. She subtly threw a frown at him to which he replied with a look of innocence.

"Oh?"

"It's important that I find my mother first."

"Yes. It seems something is always trying to find that woman."

"What do you mean?" Avalyn's eyes narrowed, and she leaned forward. He set a cup of hot tea in front of her. Instead of blowing the rising steam from the top, she stared intently at the bookkeeper.

Marv sighed, seeming to draw memories from long ago, "The first time she arrived here, it was dark, cold, and she carried you in her arms and was desperately seeking an extra room for board in exchange for work—she even offered what little gold she had for the trouble. My Father, who owned the shop at that time took pity on her and let her stay with us. She was obviously frightened—a single young mother with a small child to raise. He asked her why she was so scared and she told us that someone dangerous was after her—and by hiding in this city she hoped that she would lose them. She was only nineteen years old at the time, and she was a pretty, sassy young thing—I daresay I was a bit infatuated with her."

"Did she say who was seeking her?"

"Nay, she kept those matters to herself," he shook his head, rather discouraged, "She kept to herself a lot of the times, but if there was one sure fact about Alys, it was that she loved you."

Jaythen watched Avalyn's reaction closely, at the disbelief, then the devastation that hit her face and washed away all other emotions. Marv saw this and became alarmed, "What's the matter child?"

Avalyn couldn't bring herself to answer. She was battling back a silent rage, and in the end it had won—she slammed her cup down on the tabletop and ran up the stairs to hide it from the two men.

"What was that about?" Marv asked, in a concerned whisper—to Jaythen since Avalyn had left, or perhaps incredulously to himself.

Jaythen coughed and took a moment to explain to the man what he knew of Avalyn's past—besides the dragon bits. When he was done, Marv was bewildered and slightly agitated.

"She must have had good reason to leave Ava, there would be no other way," his frown into nothing focused on the young lord, "Believe me when I say that her child was her heart and soul—there was not a time when they were apart."

Jaythen would have liked to believe—for Avalyn's sake—but knew too little of the past to make a sound decision on what Alys could have been thinking as she left her 'heart and soul' in the care of strangers.

"Do you know where she went after she left here?"

"She mentioned heading back to the north—Griswold. She was originally from that area—the foothills of the mountains, or so she had mentioned."

"Griswold," Jaythen repeated, running his tongue over his lips to pick up any spilt tea he had drank. He had never been to Griswold—it was a modest-sized town with many run-down areas it was told. He recalled the elders mumble of Griswold's poverty and corruption—it's own priest—many years ago stole the holy relics from his own church and tried to make off with them.

He shook his head. If the bookkeeper said she headed toward Griswold, then that would be their next destination for finding Avalyn's mother.

"Since you two are here, the least I can do is offer you a spare room until you take leave of the City," Marv whisked away the tea cups for cleaning.

"You're very kind," Jaythen nodded in acceptance. Inns of the Imperial City were by far the most expensive, and to turn down a safe, warm room for free was just ludicrous. Jaythen climbed the stairs to the main room of the shop and scanned for any sight of the girl with green eyes.

He spotted her in a blanket of tranquility, and was shocked. He had expected her to be angry. She was sitting on the floor, leaning against a low shelf and reading an open book already.

He stood beside her and then crouched down, "Is it good?"

She glanced at him tiredly, "I just started it."

"Marv has offered us a room for the night, so I accepted."

She didn't say anything, just bit her lip and turned a page. He wondered if she was all right, and then realized she really was in an angry mood but was keeping it from lashing out at anyone. He saw it in her body, the tension, and the intense focus of her gaze trying to keep from thinking about the issue at hand.

"I was taught to read here long ago," Avalyn sighed, and turned a page. "We would sit over in that nook under the rose window—and she would point out small words and have me sound them out."

Jaythen didn't know how to respond, instead he offered her the information that she needed, "Alys went to Griswold when she left here—I figure that is the next piece of trail we need to find her."

"Should I still try?" Avalyn whispered with a slight hiss, her focus shattered.

Jaythen shrugged, it was all Avalyn's choice—always had been.

She closed the book, "If she loved me so much, then she couldn't have abandoned me like she did."

Jaythen pulled the book of fairy tales out of her lap—and made an attempt to comfort her even though she was angry.

'It's always best to go outside when the rain clouds blow away' was a saying his nursemaid told him and the way Avalyn was at the moment, reminded him of it. He did not have the good sense to leave her alone. She seemed like a rain cloud with such a glower. Perhaps it was because that even though she was so dangerous, it was easy to forget to fear her, the way she looked.

"I don't know much about your mother but I feel that she did love you and still does even now—if she is alive."

"Jaythen, you don't know what you speak of. You're just saying appealing things to lighten my heart—but I know to be wary of hope." She sounded annoyed, and looked away.

He stood, a crimson tint appearing in his face at her remark, and disappointed—though not surprised—that her mood was still dark. I can't reach her, not when she is like this, he noted and put the book into an empty space on the nearest shelf. She stood also—shaking her skirt of any dust while she had been sitting, then to his surprise, she punched him in the arm—surprisingly hard. So she was going to lash out after all.

He gave her a bewildered look and held it.

"Why did you tell Marv we're engaged? Do you enjoy creating tension through your lies? We are not engaged!"

He should have felt disappointed that she still didn't think him worthy. He didn't heed the blaze in her eyes though, feeling the urge to play with her as her remark was said in the tone of a whining child. He just couldn't bring himself to fear her like he used to, not after the breakthrough they had that evening in gardens of Prition. The young lord was foolish in his judgment, for testing her patience was as foolish as playing with fire, "You're wearing my ring…"

She punched him again, for an actual answer—he winced, "Fine. I said so, because it's a more probable, quick answer than explaining the truth. It gives reason to why you wear a ring, and why we're together. It's scandalous for us to be roaming around the realm without a chaperone anyhow, and is also frowned upon."

Avalyn's frustrations cooled at his logic, she nodded, accepting his answer, "Only if someone asks though."

"It's already assumed that we're married if they don't."

She simply narrowed her eyes and left to find the bookkeeper. The greatest reason though, that he omitted from telling was that she was safer in his lie. Not that she couldn't protect herself adequately—he had witnessed that she was very capable of doing so—but other men would no doubt be drawn to her and if they thought she was spoken for, would be less likely to try and gain her attentions. Upon this thought, Jaythen knew that an unsound jealousy, above all, drove him to tell the lie of their 'engagement.'

---

Avalyn had prepared dinner herself using the ingredients in Marv's cupboards. She told them she did so in gratitude for his hospitality. Jaythen voiced his surprise that she could cook to which she replied, "I grew up in a farmhouse. Of course I can make meals."

Marv opened a bottle of champagne from the cellar for their meal, claiming he had no other reasons to use it, and he would get sick off drinking a whole bottle by himself. He toasted their engagement and Avalyn was not acting as a bride-to-be, but rather sullen, with more things on her mind than she let them in on. Jaythen however, took more than his share and smiled like a man about to be wed.

"You must invite me to your wedding!" Marv declared.

Avalyn opened her mouth to say something but Jaythen hastily raised his glass of Champaign to meet the bookkeeper's, "Of course!"

Marv's glass joined his and it made a 'clink' noise.

"I feel tired, I'm going to bed. Thank you again for lending us a room," Avalyn stood and let out a theatrical yawn—probably the closest thing to a lie she had ever done. Jaythen knew Avalyn to think of lying as only being direct. She didn't consider omitting details a lie, and he did.

"Tell me about Alys," he asked the man when Avalyn was good and gone.

"Oh, she was something. She could read, which—it's silly, but first caught my attentions of her. She sorted books for my father but often became distracted and started reading them, and it seemed like when her head was off in those stories, she was escaping reality," Marv paused and took a swig of champagne. " She cared for Ava with as much tenderness as a loving mother could, and she would acquire a smile when evening came, and every morning she awoke sullen—but there never was a reason to why."

Jaythen considered Marv's last comment and also took a swig of champagne from his glass, "And what was Avalyn like when she was child?"

"She was a rascal!" Marv laughed which made Jaythen's lips twitch up with humorous amusement.

"How so?"

"One time, I think she was about four years old—my father had told Alys that if she sorted the remainder of new arrivals books, that she could have the afternoon off to take Ava to the gardens to play. Ava was so excited and kept pestering Alys to complete the task faster and the poor woman spent so much time trying to calm the child down, that it was evening and she wasn't even finished. Ava was sourly disappointed—and the next day we all bore the brunt of her anger as she had started 'sorting' the next pile for her mother so they could go to the gardens that next morning but alas, the child merely put books on shelves at random and caused a whole slough of confusion to incoming customers looking for specific bindings," Marv sighed with a nostalgic laugh, "So instead of making Alys find all the misplaced books, I offered to do it so she could take Ava to the gardens."

"That was very kind of you," Jaythen toasted him.

He shrugged with a small smile, "I would have done anything to make Alys happy, but it was plain to see she loved another."

"Did she ever mention him?"

Marv shook his head, "Never. She never even mentioned being previously married, let alone a man's name. I could only tell by the way she seemed to be waiting for something—the man or the unnamed being that what seeking her, or both—they could have been the same."

"When did she leave?"

A sadness came about the bookkeeper's features, "She stayed for eight months, and did admit that it was the longest she'd ever stayed with other people before she started traveling—I thought maybe it was because she was fond of me. The morning she departed she thanked us for our hospitality and apologized for the short notice of her leave." Marv shook his head, bewildered while recalling the events, "She seemed frantic, frightened but did not tell us if she was leaving because she was in sudden danger—for if she was I would have gladly protected her. She bundled up Ava and disappeared toward the northeast, toward Griswold and it was the last time I saw or heard from her—fifteen years ago."

Jaythen felt the man's sorrow. Marv had been in love with Alys and then she was gone. Just like Nicolette. It was strange how, looking back, time could seem so fast when a person was at their happiest and in the blink of an eye, the happiness was gone and time moved at it's slowest without it.

Jaythen yawned, with a true tiredness and bid the bookkeeper goodnight after thanking him for telling his memories. He made his way to the upper floor, which was occupied by the bedrooms—but in a series of stumbling motions from the intake of alcohol. He slowly opened the door in order not to wake Avalyn if she was asleep.

"You are ridiculous sometimes," he heard her whisper and he jumped, crashing his shoulder into the door. It had healed significantly since the wolf bite but it still hurt. He bit his fist with a pained expression.

Avalyn merely shook her head, unsympathetic, "And intoxicated."

"Am I ridiculous because I'm intoxicated?" he lowered his fist and raised his brows in playful wonder, falling onto the bed next to her—where she had been reading by candlelight.

He stared up at her, she was sort of up side down in his view—he waited for her answer.

"No, you're ridiculous for lying to poor Marv. He will be very disappointed when he does not receive a wedding invitation."

"You don't want to invite him?"

Avalyn gave him an incredulous look, shut her book and leaned over so close that her lips were nearly touching his ear. Her breath was so warm, heated and in a voice filled with disdain she mumbled, "I can never marry you."

"I was merely jesting," Jaythen was taken aback by her tone. She sat up once more and blew out the flame of the candle. She gave a heavy sigh. A morose feeling hung between them suddenly, and he hated it. She had finally trusted him and he needed to keep her trust, to keep her near.

"I did not find it humorous."

Now he felt though as if he were rope-walker, trying to stay upright and balanced when so many things, the littlest of words or actions could cause him to loose balance and fall out of her good graces forever.

A/N: It's been awhile, I kind of took a break but do not fear, this story is still very much alive. Does it make you wonder about the past?