Gavin groaned as he stirred with the sun shining on his face and a loud pounding in his head. His eyes ached in time with the loud thumps and he turned his face into his pillow trying to escape the light of day. Groaning, he fisted the pillow and pulled it over his ears, trying to lessen the incessant thumping. Surprisingly enough, it actually worked. That was one thing that alerted him to the fact that the thumping wasn't in his head. What really gave it away was the familiar, and altogether unwelcome, voice of the king's messenger. With an official messenger at the door, he couldn't let it go unanswered.

Pushing himself up, squinting through the sunlit bedroom, Gavin stumbled to his feet and staggered through to the front door. The young man was thumping so loudly the wood was rattling. Gavin said nothing as he opened the door, though the sight of him standing there half-dressed and dishevelled made the young man pause with his hand raised, ready to knock again. Taken aback, he remained there, stammering as Gavin turned his back and left the door open in silent invitation. Gavin rubbed his face and headed for the small kitchen, where he pulled the lever for water.

"T-the king requests your presence…" Gavin barely grunted in response, still half-asleep and hungover. How many ales he drank the night before escaped him, but it was enough to have left his head fuzzy and his mind slow. The messenger seemed to understand something of this as he hovered just inside the doorway, ringing his hands. "At your earliest convenience, Sir." Gavin almost scoffed at his use of the title. He was no one's Sir; just a skilled ranger with an outstanding record of service. That's what he thought, anyway.

"…Arthur, right?"

"Henry, Sir," he corrected timidly. It was hardly surprising Gavin didn't remember. There were many messengers working at the castle, and they'd only met once or twice. Gavin nodded as he refilled his metal cup and drank again. He just needed a little time for his brain to catch up.

"Henry…Tell me again, slowly this time, what brings you here so early in the morning?" Henry blinked and looked out the front window, where the midday sun was streaming down, rapidly chasing away the morning shadows.

"Forgive me, Sir, but it's almost noon." Gavin groaned at the thought. After long weeks of travel and hardship, he at least deserved a lie in. He'd been at the tavern most of the night, supping and making merry with the few locals he knew. Mostly those he had regular trade with, since he'd come from Edraith Naer. "I was sent by the king to find you, Sir." Gavin nodded for him to continue. He'd gathered that much already. "There is urgent business to be attended to."

"What kind of business?" He'd only just got back! Surely he'd earned a few days' rest before setting out again.

"I was not told, Sir. I was only sent to find you." Perhaps that should have raised alarm bells. When summoned, Gavin was usually given a reason so he could be prepared. That he was not forewarned could mean one of two things. The next mission was classified, or it was for business in which they knew he would not willingly partake. "They need you at your earliest convenience, Sir." That was code for make haste and get up here! Unable to refuse or ignore a direct summons, Gavin reluctantly splashed his face, fixed his unruly hair, and pulled on his court clothes.

They were not so fine as anything those in Gwaernost would wear, but he at least looked respectable. Gifted to him by the palace when he was first hired, his outfit consisted of fine brown trousers with an equally fine tunic that sat over a deep green shirt. Each item was made of thick cotton, and the tunic was even quilted and embroidered with flaxen thread around the cuffs and neck. Such thread was not of man, but of elves. It was commonly bought through trade, but expensive. To finish the outfit was a pair of fine leather shoes, which were snug and comfortable, but would do little good out in the wilds. They weren't sturdy enough for all weathers and distant travel.

Stepping out, Gavin almost regretted not grabbing his cloak. It was a sunny day, but the air carried the dry chill of early spring. Summer would not reach them in these parts for some time yet, and when it did, the glowing heat would be brief. Henry led the way, occasionally looking back over his shoulder as if anxious he would disappear. Despite the summons, Gavin was in no hurry. Unlike the day before, he had no urgent news to impart, and things were not so dire that he felt the need to run, especially not while he was walking off a hangover.

"Morning, Gavin!" Gavin almost glared as he passed the bakery and saw Ben already wide awake, his day almost done. Ben was the one who'd kept passing him ales the night before, and Jimmy, the traitorous barkeep, had let him! They'd stayed long into the night. So long that Ben might well have walked straight into the bakery when they left the tavern. Gavin didn't even remember stumbling home. "Here, for your head!" Gavin caught the bread roll in one hand and took a bite, humming and closing his eyes. It was still warm.

"Don't think this gets you off the hook, old man! I'll see you at the tavern later!" Ben would be there. He was always there if he wasn't working. There or at home, sleeping off the night before. What else was an old man to do? It wasn't safe to venture too far from town these days, and there wasn't much to do within the city walls. Life was simple, but good. Steady business, a warm hearth, good ale, and excellent company. What more could a man ask for? Gavin had never been the city type. Being around town was fine for short stints, but after a while he yearned for the open road; the sight of trees and mountains, the sound of rushing water, the wind rustling through the leaves. He tried to ignore what that yearning for the wilds meant and the idea that he might not truly belong in the realm of men. Truly, he didn't belong in either place.

Henry seemed to quicken his pace as they entered Gwaernost. He was almost jogging as Gavin passed through the doorway munching his bread. There were few things better than a warm, crusted roll on an empty stomach. Gavin nodded to the guards on his way through, keeping to the edge of the streets so he didn't bump into anyone on the way by. Ladies tittered as he passed, offering him shy smiles and subtle waves. He was rugged and handsome, not noble enough to be among them, but holding enough favour to be a passing fancy. Gavin grinned and winked at a passing lady, both eyes blinking and sending the young woman and her attendant into fits of giggles.

At the bottom of the stairs, Gavin hurriedly finished his roll and brushed off his tunic before marching up. The guards called ahead to announce his arrival, and the doors were thrown wide as he entered the hall. He barely looked up as he walked between the long tables, which were filled by lords and ladies that day. It wasn't until he'd dropped to one knee that he realised there was someone else there. A traveller. His jaw tightened as his eyes roved up and took in the rich silks and cottons of the forest. Elf. Doing his best not to glare, he turned his attention to the king, who was in cheerful conversation with the elf, who also happened to be the prettiest young woman Gavin had ever laid eyes on.

The hood of her fine grey cloak had been lowered to reveal tresses of flaxen hair so fine it was almost white. Her skin was also pale, barely touched by the light of day, and as she turned to him, her eyes were the clearest blue Gavin had ever seen, as if the sky itself were trapped within their crystal depths. She was wearing a fine gown beneath her cloak, waves of light cream silk and cotton that floated down and covered her feet. She must have been gracious, for the king was in good humour, and both of them were laughing. Her laugh was light and bell-like, ringing through the hall like birdsong. Even without seeing the delicate curve of her ears, it was obvious she was an elf. Not just any elf. To be standing equal with the king, she must hold some station in the woodland realm.

"Gavin! Rise my boy, come and meet, uh…" The king paused, having forgotten the elf's name. She smiled brightly, warming the cold hall with her grace and beauty.

"In your tongue, my name is Chloe." Gavin ground his teeth, holding back from asking what it might be in Elvish. "And I am very pleased to meet you." Why she would be pleased to meet him, Gavin couldn't fathom, but it didn't bode well that she had come. Nor that she knew him well enough to ask for him by name. The king didn't seem to notice his poor humour. He seemed completely at ease with their guest. What such a lady was doing so far from the woodland realm, Gavin couldn't say. From the richness of her dress, he knew she held some standing, so why had she come all this way alone?

"Lady Chloe has come a long way to see you, Gavin." Gritting his teeth, Gavin held back from answering. If he spoke, his words would be less than fair. Perhaps Chloe saw something of his thoughts, because amusement danced in her eyes like starlight as she thinned her lips. She also seemed to think she might have more luck if they were by themselves.

"Is there some place we might talk quietly, Sire?" Upon her request, the king waved for his steward to lead them through to a smaller anteroom. Just Gavin and Chloe. The room they entered was small, set up with a map on the table. A war room. The place where battles were planned. Since they were no longer at war, the room now stood empty, the map cleared of the usual flags and moving pieces. Even once they were alone, Chloe remained as sweet natured as before. Gavin, however, did not.

"Alright, what on this green earth do you want?"

"Hirnaeranin said you might react this way." Gavin clicked his tongue at that. They didn't even use his real name anymore. Why would they? He'd abandoned that, just like he'd abandoned him. His displeasure must have shown on his face, for Chloe became more cautious after that. "I bring joyous news…Your brother and I are to be married." Happiness sparkled in her aged eyes, her ever youthful skin glowing as she smiled. Gavin wasn't usually one to ruin happy occasions, but in this case, he'd make an exception.

"Whatever Elijah does or does not do is no longer my concern." The use of his human name didn't seem to phase her, but the coldness of his words had her biting her lip. She'd clearly been hoping for a happier response to the news. Instead, there was a glaring heat in his dirty green eyes. The very same eyes Elijah had. A delicate balance of green and blue with speckles of hazel. Chloe laced her fingers, gripping tightly as she tried to make her case.

"I understand there was some bitterness at your parting." That was a colossal understatement! After spending almost thirty years alone on the streets, looking out for each other and bettering their lot, the elves had found them. They'd acted graciously, inviting them to their homeland and offering them shelter as they'd travelled through the woods. In reality, they'd had little choice but to go along with them. Those Elven scouts had been sent to find them, or more specifically, their parents. They'd been searching for many years, seeking news in every human town, but when they tracked them down, they'd found they were dead. Slaughtered by orcs, leaving two sons behind.

During their time with the elves, they'd met their grandfather. Gavin hated him right from the start. Waves of dark hair fell to his waist, an intricate diadem of silver sat upon his brow, and he could see something of his mother in the curve of his jaw. The same as Elijah's. His eyes were a rich shade of blue, just a little darker than Chloe's, like sapphires. They'd stared at him with such love, it made Gavin even angrier. It got worse once he opened his mouth and tried to explain. Years after banishing their mother, he'd suffered regret and tried to find her, only to arrive far too late. They were, however, in time to save Gavin and Elijah from their fate.

As the children of an elf, Elijah and Gavin had enough power in their blood to be gifted eternal life. It was a simple spell, something that would activate their Elven blood and burn away their humanity. Purifying them. The way he spoke left Gavin enraged. He spoke as if their human blood was something dirty to be cast aside. Like their father. Their grandfather never spoke ill of him, but he also didn't mourn the loss. What would have happened if their parents had been alive, Gavin couldn't say. Would they have kidnapped their mother? All three of them? Hidden them away from their father?

Given the choice, Elijah had immediately fallen for the cursed offering. Why choose to live a mere five or six hundred years, as their mixed blood would allow, when he could live forever? Think of the things he might learn! The discoveries he might make! The elves were known to be keepers of knowledge. Once he learned their language, all they knew would be at his fingertips, and he'd have an endless lifetime to learn it all. It never even crossed Elijah's mind that Gavin would refuse, just as it had never crossed Gavin's mind that Elijah would accept.

Staying barely a week longer, Gavin left. Elijah had tried to convince him to stay, of course. He didn't see it as a betrayal, merely staying with family. Gavin scoffed at the thought. A family who'd cast their own daughter aside because she loved a mortal man. A family who'd taken two decades to find out she was dead, and even longer to track their children down. Maybe they'd tracked them down sooner. Maybe they'd just waited; watched them struggle to adulthood and made this offering like some sort of lifeline to a better life, certain they'd never turn it down. Gavin had turned it down. He'd rejected it with every fibre of his being.

Though saddened by the news, his grandfather had assured him that he could change his mind at any time. His blood would always be strong enough to make the change, though any children he had would not be so fortunate. He'd also assured him he'd always be welcome in their land. Gavin rejected both offers. He wouldn't set foot in their land so long as he lived, and nor would his children, if he ever had any. Elijah had begged him to think on it longer, but Gavin was firm. From that day forth, he no longer had a brother. If he'd had his way, no one would ever have known his lineage. Unfortunately, his grandfather had other plans. Thinking it might make Gavin think a little kinder of him, he'd sent word to the king to negotiate a better position, which is how he'd moved to Canadh and become the king's personal ranger.

"If you understand that much, you also know you shouldn't have come." Gavin didn't recall seeing Chloe during his stay, but he had paid little attention to those around them. He'd spent most of his time dodging his grandfather and trying to talk Elijah into leaving with him. Unfortunately, Elijah had been fascinated from the moment they arrived. The art, music, fine clothes, libraries. He'd been in his element. The life of a ranger was a hard one, and it would be a lie to say that Elijah had been well suited to it. He only came along so he wasn't left alone. He was always more a scholar than an outdoorsman.

"Please…Human lives are so short. Too short to let such bitterness take root." Gavin hated that she was so earnest. There was something so pure in her manner, even though he knew her words were nothing short of manipulation. She took his hands then, gripping them in both of hers. Her skin was so soft and warm, a clear sign of high class. "He doesn't say it, but I know he misses you a great deal, and it would mean so much to him for you to be there."

"Oh yeah? You know what would have meant a great deal to me? My brother coming home. We both had a choice. I made mine, and he made his." Gavin shook off Chloe's hands and turned to leave, only stopping as she grabbed his elbow. There was little strength in her grip. She was soft and delicate, only asking him to pause.

"It does not have to be such a choice! You are still brothers, and you are still welcome in our home!" Gavin huffed. This elf would never understand. She had lived untold years of pampered luxury. Her parents were likely both elves who'd never set foot beyond their realm, untouched by controversy. Not like Gavin's mother. Outcast by her own people for the sin of loving another. Rejected by her own father, the very man who now begged Gavin and Elijah's forgiveness and reconciliation.

"So because I'm welcome, I should just forget what your people did? Your lord, my grandfather, banished my mother! He cast her out of her home and into the wilds! It's his fault she's dead! And now you come to me, asking me to play happy families? That's not how this works!" Though he didn't mean to yell, Gavin knew it was his voice that echoed off the walls and made Chloe recoil in shock. He sighed and ran a hand over his face, barely noticing as the door cracked open and a guard looked in to check on them. "I reject your people with every fibre of my being. I will speak no more of this. Good day, Milady." With a swish of his cloak, Gavin turned and walked out, ignoring the sadness in Chloe's eyes as she watched him leave.