"We should be on the road by now assuming this is the right road," Mirana said condescendingly.

"I know my way home." Fymryn bristled as she and the strong woman loaded their camp gear; Mirana didn't lift a finger, just stood there with her hands on her hips, delegating. Just because she was a princess did not mean she was her superior. Fymryn gritted her teeth. They'd left the Invoker's tower at sundown the previous day, meaning this was their first full day together: their first day! Already she could not stand this woman. She hadn't expected to like a follower of Selemene, but she was patronizing, snobbish, and rude. This was the first time she'd spoken to her, and it was a passive aggressive barb.

"Pack up your things." She heard her say to the dragon knight. She even talked to him that way: her guide, or friend, or whatever he was. He appeared to be asleep, but she thought he might be faking. He'd woken with a start during the night, gasping and panting, downing a bottle before passing out. That bottle now lay empty at his side. Curious, she pretended she was not eavesdropping, moving closer to hear what they were talking about. This was her chance to learn more about the dragon knight. From the banter, and her tone, perhaps they were lovers. She waited for Mirana to saunter off before creeping up behind him.

"Fuck." He touched his head. Either Mirana or the whisky had given him a headache. Maybe both.

"Lover's quarrel?" She probed innocently.

"We're not! No, it isn't." He protested.

"She seems easy to fight with. If it's not her then …" She glanced at the other girl. Maybe she was his lover. She certainly was more agreeable.

"It's not."

"If you say so," she said challengingly. A denial was usually an admittance.

"I do say so."

He was upset. He was cute when he was upset. She smiled, walking away.

"Hey!"

She stepped over the bottle and her laughter died in her throat. Whatever he was drowning must be awful, but he didn't talk about it. She'd wanted to ask him that night, but it was obvious he thought he was the only one awake, and he didn't know her. One look at Mirana told her she was not the only one concerned, and not the only one he was keeping secrets from.

They struck out, behind schedule as Mirana kept reminding them. Fymryn walked ahead as the guide. Davion joined her instead of keeping pace with Mirana, much to her surprise and delight and Mirana's indignation. The glares pierced their backs like arrows. This was perfect. It gave them an opportunity to talk and for her to get answers.

"So, Fymryn." He started. "How do you know the Invoker?"

"Circumstances brought me to him. Much like you."

He laughed, a pleasant sound. "I doubt they were similar circumstances." The sentence suggested he would say more, but a quick glance behind and he was silent again but only for a moment before he began to tell her about his adventures as a dragon knight. Some of the stories seemed a little farfetched, but if they were true, Davion was no ordinary man. Maybe just maybe, he was the kind of man that could help her.

"I think you get the gist of being a dragon knight."

She stifled a laugh. Early on she detected a formula: Arrive at a little town, kill a dragon, and celebrate with copious amounts of women and drinks at a bar.

"So tell me about your culture."

"You've never met a Coedwig?"

"I don't meet many elves. The last elf I saw was at a bar in Barrowhaven."

She giggled. "I hope this isn't like your other bar stories."

"No, it's not like that." He scratched the back of his head. "It's actually where we met." He glanced back at Mirana.

He met a princess at a bar? "Dragon problem?" She guessed.

"You could say that," He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his head. "It's a long story. Well, kinda. Eldwurm siting. We met at a bar, they found me naked in the woods the next day … fuck that makes me sound like I just got drunk and … never mind."

He was quiet for awhile, his eyes focused inward at some inner problem. It was hard to believe that someone so amiable who smiled and laughed as easily as him could be feeling so much pain. She regretted shifting the tone. She liked the light pleasant conversation, even though she wasn't likely to learn what she needed to know. His energy was like the light from the sun, and she felt warm in his presence. Now it was like a shadow had blocked out that light. She quickly changed topics, talking about the trees and flowers and about nature. He listened intently, his mood lightening. The sunlight returned.

"Sounds like my life on the farm. I'm from a small village too," he said.

"Really?" She smiled. She'd never seen a human town. Couldn't imagine what it looked like, but she loved that they had common ground.

"Yeah, it was just me and my mama and papa. I was a simple boy before I became Davion the dragon knight." he said striking a pose.

She tugged on her braid. He was adorable for a human man.

"What about you?"

"I lived with my brothers and sisters, my mother, and her pod."

"Sounds crowded, but in a good way."

"It was." She tucked a lose hair, remembering the day her mother's primary left. Now all her family was gone and she knew her mother's pain. She watched him from the corner of her eye as she began to tug on her braid again. He had a listening gaze, attentive and understanding, so different from the absent gaze of the statue of Mene or even the Invoker, and the angry glare from Mirana. Maybe that was the prayer Mene has answered: the one she didn't speak. She'd needed someone to unburden herself. She could tell him her pain. He'd listen. He'd hear her.

She glanced back at the still frowning woman and the other one, the smaller woman carrying bone-crushing weight on her back. Maybe when they were alone, if they were ever alone, she'd divulge herself and perhaps he'd reveal his own pain to her.

"What's with her?"

"Oh, she's always like that?"

"No, the other one."

"Oh, you mean Marci." His tone perked up. "You mean the super strength." He flexed. Adorable.

She nodded, looking forward to the explanation.

"I have no idea."

She laughed. So much for getting answers. After that, she spoke, and he listened intently. It was flattering and it drove Mirana insane. She watched him as they spoke, taking him in. She couldn't look at him enough. His smile, his mannerisms, his charisma. Mene's light. She was distracted. She needed to ask him how he knew Mirana. But as she opened her mouth, the words wouldn't come. She didn't want to know the answer right now. What if he liked her? What if he loved her? What if he was a worshipper of Selemene? She was afraid of the truth, afraid something he would say would ruin the way she felt right now. Cochi.

"What does that mean?"

Her cheeks burned. She'd said it out loud.

"It's a curse."

"Oh, like Fuck, damn, shit?"

She nodded.

"Cochi." He repeated, laughing. "Got any more?"

She blushed, and he grinned apologetically. "How about instead you teach me words for other things like ..." Looking around. "What about tree."

She smiled and told him the word for tree, and sun and sky and moon, and the variations of moonlight.

He repeated them all, saying none of them correctly. She was enjoying their conversation so much she was disappointed when the green hills gave way to rocky plateaus and crags revealing a landmark.

"That's the way." She told them. Mirana still did not look convinced she was leading them in the right direction. A roar stopped them before they could proceed. Davion told them to freeze, instantly poised to react. Fymryn might have been the guide, but he was the protector. Maybe that's what he was doing here. Maybe the princess had hired a dragon knight for protection, and yet they acted like they knew each other on a more personal level and there was the kiss. Her cheeks burned at the thought of it, but she shook the thought from her mind. Whatever made that noise was the immediate concern.

"Air dragons clustered together." Davion explained.

In the direction he was looking a cluster of dragons circled in the sky. Quickly they ducked behind some stones so that they might be overlooked for another target. The dragons screeched and swooped low to nab a deer. Fymryn covered her face against the dust that blew up from the speed of their great wings.

"Hunting ground. No way around it."

"Why are you smiling?" Mirana asked annoyed.

"I'm not."

It definitely looked like he was.

"I see teeth." She persisted.

He sighed. "I guess it's nice to have a problem I know how to solve, like how not to become lunch." His tone shifted to a grave seriousness she didn't know he was capable of. "They hunt by movement. Stay out of sight, stay still, or end up like that deer."

Nearby the dragons broke into their kill, breaking bones with one bite and swallowing large chunks of flesh whole. The sound sent shivers through her.

"What if there's no cover?"

"Find it." He said, his voice strained.

Instinctively she pressed herself close to him. Warm, safe, sheltering. If there was trouble, she would find him. Mirana glared at her with a look that was unmistakably jealous. So far she'd learned more from looks than words. But if there was one thing she was certain, it was that words could not be trusted. She gripped Davion's arm, feeling his strength. It was nice to know there was someone she could.