Three days seemed too long and yet not long enough for Nesgrim to do whatever it was the gnome druid had planned to do. But no one could deny that there had been no trouble with gnolls or anything else since Aran had spoken with the gnome, almost as though they had moved on in some way. It seemed he had kept his end of the bargain ....one half of it, anyway.

It seemed almost unbelievable the way the attacks had ended, and the gnolls were no longer a threat to the village. A miracle to some, though Hal knew better. He knew it was because of the bargain they'd made with the druid, and now it was their turn to keep their end of that bargain. He'd left that part to Luin; all he needed to do was escort her there and keep her safe. That, and free the drow girl from captivity. In the end, they hadn't needed to make a choice between the two drow in the village. One had declined, which left the other to reluctantly agree in his place.

Luin had spent the third day closeted with the mages, learning the essence of the spell and how to cast it. She was as ready as she would ever be to do this, but she already knew she would not give Nesgrim his peace unless he first gave the drow girl her freedom. This time, when they reached the barrier of vines, there was no separation of the greenery. They were forced to wait while, presumably, Nesgrim was summoned.

The third member of their party - a dark elf named Kalan'ar - was not a seasoned warrior, like his companions, despite the fact that he was armed, mostly for his own protection. He shifted nervously from one foot to the other, obviously restless as they awaited the gnome's arrival.

"Stop fidgeting," Hal hissed in annoyance. "You are making me nervous."

"Apologies, my lord," the dark elf murmured, struggling to remain still. He tilted a glance at the woods around them, in anticipation of the druid's arrival. "Do you think he knows we are here?"

Luin had been watching the tops of the trees in this clearing, ignoring the nervous fidgeting, and felt a faint sense of relief when she saw what she had been hoping to see. "He knows," she assured her companions, gesturing toward the shimmering hummingbird flitting back and forth above them. "I would venture to guess that he is almost here."

"A hummingbird?" Kalan'ar asked, as he followed Luin's gaze to the tops of the trees.

"That is no bird," Hal pointed out. "That is the dark elf that is his captive," without further explanation. They had already told him as much as they knew, but the drow had not been expecting her to appear in such a delicate form as that.

"He seems to keep her in that form until he requires the use of her hands," Luin commented softly, tilting her gaze back to the vines as they began to whisper and untangle themselves, parting to reveal the disheveled and bearded gnome druid, stumping toward them with his heavy staff.

He stopped at the sight of Kalan'ar. "You bring drow?"

"He is only here for the girl. We do not know what language she speaks, and we need to be able to communicate with her," Hal said, stepping between the druid and the drow, in part to protect him and in part to become a living barrier between the gnome and the drow. "Do not fear. We intend to keep our part of the bargain," he assured the old gnome."

Nesgrim eyed them warily, but it appeared that he had decided to trust at least the two elves he had already met. "Gnolls gone," he informed them. "Moved them on through a portal, back to their own lands. No more trouble coming your way from them."

Luin smiled. "Thank you, Nesgrim."

"Yes, thank you. The villagers are grateful for your help," Hal echoed Luin's words, though he wasn't quite as trusting as she was. Still, the gnome had upheld his end of the bargain. "Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked further, of the bargain they had made. All the druid claimed to have wanted was the peace and quiet that came with solitude before he died, but to Hal, it seemed a lonely way to end his life.

The old gnome huffed at the concern in Hal's voice. "Four hundred years might not seem much to you long-lived ones, but for me, it has been a very long life," he said in his cracked voice. "Peace, I need peace. No more demands. Just the Mother, and the bounty of her goodness."

"And the drow girl?" Luin asked, her tone just a little sharp.

Nesgrim scowled, but thumped his staff against the ground. The hummingbird swept downward just in time to prevent the dark elven woman being hurt when she landed, but she still stumbled and fell to her knees.

Kalan'ar gasped as the hummingbird turned into a pretty dark elf, right before his eyes, and he unconsciously reached out to steady her before she fell, without thought as to whether she might welcome his help.

"Steady," he told her quietly, as he offered his arm, choosing to speak to her in their native drow language, rather than common in hopes she understood. "We are here to set you free."

She did not shy away from his touch, but the tension that rippled through her suggested that this woman was accustomed to stealing herself against anything unpleasant. But she nodded in answer to his words, showing that she understood Under-Common, at the very least. She touched the circle of twisted vines about her neck silently, her violet eyes very carefully devoid of all emotion.

Kalan'ar scowled as he recognized the vines for what they really were. "The collar," he pointed out, switching back to the language that was commonly spoken in Rhy'Din. Hal glanced over at the girl and the circle of vines about her neck, furrowing his brows in annoyance again, assuming that was what held her in the druid's thrall. He wondered if the druid was waiting for them to uphold their part of the bargain before he freed her completely. "That is not part of the bargain," he said, turning back to Nesgrim.

The gnome ignored him, his beady eyes fixed on Hal and Luin, the two elves he had met before and felt no particular dislike of. "You kept your word?" he asked, and it was almost painful how much hope the little man held in those few syllables. He truly did want to be away from the world of men and elves and others in his last weeks and months, needing reassurance that he would have that before he gave up everything he had agreed to.

"We kept our word," Hal confirmed, looking to Luin, who was the one who would be casting the spell. "Will you keep yours?" he asked, with a nod of his head toward the drow girl and the matter of the collar of vines around her neck that seemed to still hold her in thrall.

Sensing that she was the one who would make or break this deal at this point, Luin knelt down, opening the pouch on her belt to start bringing out the components of the spell she was about to cast. Nesgrim eyed her thoughtfully, watching for a long moment. Then he leveled his staff at the drow girl, and a thin blast of green energy swept from the crystal hidden in the gnarled wood to the circlet of vines about her neck. The vines unraveled themselves, revealing the thorns that had been turned inward against her flesh, slithering away to rejoin the living mass around them as dark blood trickled from the pinprick wounds left behind by the living collar.

"Or we could spend the night at the cave," Hal suggested, just as they had a few days ago. It would give the girl a chance to rest and recuperate before they made the long journey back to Anarven. It would also give them a chance to see if she had suffered any ill effects before introducing her to the villagers.

Luin considered that, offering up a nod of agreement. "That is probably a better idea," she agreed. "It's more defensible, for a start, and it'll be restocked. We just have to collect our packs from the temporary camp on the way." She glanced over at the drow again. "Will she be all right to walk on bare feet?"

Kalan'ar glanced down at the drow girl's feet, as though he was only just noticed they were bare now that Luin had pointed it out. He frowned for a moment, considering, before replying, "I can carry her," he volunteered, turning to the drow girl beside him and lowering his voice to ask in their own language, "I can carry you, if you cannot walk. I don't mind."

For the first time, it seemed as though she was able to form words. She spoke in Under-Common, her hair falling back from her face as she looked up at the dark elf who held her. "You are tall for a drow."

"Yes," he replied back in the same language, not denying what she said. It was a simple fact, after all, and may have even helped him survive. "We are taking you to a cave, where we will spend the night. You'll be safe there. Tomorrow, we'll return to our village. You should come with us, at least, until you are well enough to decide what you would like to do with your freedom," he told her.

He was doing so well, right up to the point when he mentioned freedom. Deep suspicion blossomed in her gaze as she swayed back from him. "Freedom is a lie," she said, still in Under-Common. "You have bought me from the gnome. You are not my friends. You are my masters."

Kal frowned, knowing how hard it was to understand the concept of freedom and even accept it when one had been a slave for so long. "No, little one. It is trust. I was a slave once, but now I am free. Just as you are free. You will see," he assured her, but he didn't want to force the matter. "For now, we will eat and rest, but there is a little way to go yet. Can you walk on your own?"

She nodded warily, unwilling to admit to any kind of weakness when she knew so little of the people she was now among. Hearing a footstep behind her, she stiffened as Luinithlas spoke.

"Can she understand us?" the red-headed elf asked gently. "Does she have a name?"

Kal glanced at Luin, and then back to the girl. "Do you understand them?" he asked, still in the language that was most familiar to the two of them. "What is your name?" he asked her, as gently as he could. Meanwhile, Hal was looking around, as though he was nervous to remain there.

"I understand," the drow girl said, switching to Common that was accented just barely with the lilt of her own people underground. Her name, however, seemed harder to share, and for Kal, that was likely not such a surprise. Slaves were not permitted to keep their names in drow society, and she - being a female of the race of mistresses - had likely had all connection to her house broken from her. "Greylin," she said finally. "My name is Greylin."

"Greylin," Kal echoed, a soft smile on his face, glad she had seen fit to trust him enough to give him her name. "I am Kalan'ar," he told her, with a slight accent to his speech, as well, as it was not his native tongue. "And this is Luinithlas and Haldreithen. They are elves, but they do not hate our kind the way most surface dwellers do," he explained. "Come," he said, offering his arm again. "We will take you someplace safe."

Those violet eyes turned toward the surface elves, wary suspicion uppermost in her gaze. Luin let the dark elf eye her for as long as she wanted, settling her bow over her shoulder for the time being as she waited for Hal to signal them to move. Greylin turned her eyes back to Kalan'ar, staring at his proffered arm for a long moment before grasping his sleeve gently between her fingers.

Hal cocked his head a moment, as if he was listening to the wind or the sounds on the wind. Once he was satisfied all was well, he offered a nod to Luin that he thought it was safe to continue on their journey.

Kal smiled again, as the little drow took his arm. "It's all right. No one is going to hurt you," he assured her.

Greylin's solemn gaze didn't outright call him a liar, but neither did it convey any form of agreement or reassurance. "That remains to be seen," was she said, making a point of speaking in Common, as though making sure she could not be accused of anything by her unexpected companions.

"You will see," Kal assured her. There was no need to force his point when she would see for herself soon enough. And then she would have to decide what to do with her freedom, but there was no rush.

"We should go," Hal broke in. "It won't stay light forever."

Kal only smiled. If there was one thing drow weren't afraid of, it was the darkness.

Greylin's very soft snort of derision told Kal that she had harbored the same thought, though she was very careful not to share it aloud.

Luinithlas bit down on her own grin, instead moving to urge Kal and his little companion to follow after Haldreithen while she took up the rear. "It isn't far," she told them both, "and the water is warm, if you'd like to wash up."

It wasn't the dark Hal was afraid of so much as the creatures that sometimes lurked there, but he said nothing about the way Greylin snorted. He only scowled briefly. They had freed her from a life of captivity; he thought she might show them a little more gratitude than a snort of derision.

"Follow me," he said, falling into step to take the lead, whatever his thoughts might be.

The journey through the advancing twilight was all but silent. All elven kind knew how to move silently when the need called for it, and there was no call for any kind of conversation. But it was with warm relief that Luin sighed when they passed beneath the waterfall and into the cave beyond it, feeling a familiar layer of tension ease away. She did, however, take one look at Kal and Greylin and set her own comfort aside for a little while.

"Hal, let's scout a bit," she suggested, jerking her head back toward the exit.

"And then?" he asked, quietly, patiently. He remained crouched beside her, close enough to touch her, but keeping his hands carefully to himself, afraid he might spook her.

She was silent for a long time before she spoke again, still staring fixedly at her hands. "I was a ....favored pleasure slave from the day I was considered old enough," she said quietly. "They dared not kill me, because I bear the marks of Lolth and Eilistraee. But they wanted to break me."

Old enough, he echoed in his head, knowing how little drow cared for children who were not their own, how everyone and everything existed only to serve them, in whatever way they so choose. He understood what she was telling him about what she had been, though his experience as a slave had been very different. It was hard to say which had suffered more, but both of them had suffered. He arched a brow at something she said, his pulse quickening for some reason.

"Marks" Show me," he said, forgetting that he should have phrased that like a request and not a command.

She frowned, surprised that he had not noticed the marks she bore. Then she remembered that she was filthy, and she had not actually looked him in the eye for more than a few seconds. One hand touched her hair. "Lolth touched me with silver-white," she said uncomfortably, hating that she had any connection to the Spider Queen at all. "And the Dark Maiden ..." She looked him in the eye, letting him see the violet of her irises, such an unusual color among their kind.

His hair was nearly the same shade as hers, but he had not considered it a mark of Lloth. Then again, he was not female. He met her gaze, marking the color of her eyes. His were ice blue, not so unusual for one of their kind, unlike hers. He frowned back at her, needing to ask a question that could decide whether she became friend or foe.

"Which do you favor?" he asked, of the marks.

She hissed, catlike, as though offended he would even ask that. "Lolth has brought me nothing but pain," she snapped, stiffening as she spoke. "Eilistraee brought me out of the Underdark."

"And into the sunlight," he said, reaching for her hand, though he didn't know why. "As she did me," he told her quietly. He had no proof of his claim, other than his freedom, but he believed it to be true.

Her hand tensed in his, though now he knew her past, it was likely easier to understand why any touch put her on guard. "I never learned about her," she admitted quietly. "Just that she wants more for the drow."

“A rightful place awaits you in the Realms Above, in the Land of the Great Light. Come in peace and live beneath the sun again where trees and flowers grow," he murmured, words his mother had taught him, once upon a time, long, long ago.

Greylin watched him, wary once again. The words were unfamiliar to her, but the sentiment seemed to make sense. "I ....someone spoke to me," she whispered, glancing toward the cave mouth as though expecting to see the elves trying to listen to a language they didn't understand. "All my life, when I've been in the most danger, someone spoke to me. Told me what to do to survive."

He lifted his brows, the pain of longing stabbing his heart. He would have given anything to heart the Dark Maiden's voice, to feel her presence in his life, but for all his faith in her and belief that she had been the one who'd freed him.

"And what does she tell you now?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, almost afraid to hear her response.

"I do not know if it was her," she whispered, shaking her head. "I have not heard that voice since I first saw the sun. Perhaps it was not her at all."

He was frowning again, unsure what to say. "And the gnome?" he asked further. "How did you come to be his prisoner?" He had a feeling he already knew the answer to that question, but he wanted to hear it from her.

"He found me," she said simply. "Two days out of the darkness, still blinded by the sun, starving. He said he wanted to kill me, but he did not. He collared me, changed my form, fed me. Perhaps his god stopped him, I do not know."

"How long?" he asked. "Do you know how long you were with him?" He did not let go of her hand, just yet, as if by holding it he might give her courage.

"I think ....I think a year," she ventured, though she could not be certain. Her eyes flickered down to the wrap of his fingers about her own, uncertain what to make of his gentle touch. "He never hurt me, not as I am used to being hurt."

"That is good," he said, leaning back on his heels and gently releasing his grasp on her hand. He glanced up at the sky, noting how quickly dusk was turning to night. "You should eat and bathe, before the elves come back. I will find you something to wear."

For the first time in her life, Greylin felt brave enough to ask something she had never before dared to. "You will not ....not touch me, when I am ....uncovered, will you?" she ventured, not daring to look at him as she pushed the boundary of what she had never been allowed before.

"No," he assured her, his expression betraying his surprise at her question. "I will not hurt you in any way," he assured her. "No one will ever hurt you again, lotha suru," he assured her, dubbing her "little bird". "I will be in the cave in you need me," he assured her, as he moved to his full height.

The promise might almost have made her smile, if she were not so afraid still of showing such an expression to the world around her. "I will hold you to that, drizlah uss," she told him in answer, naming him "tall one" in response. Her head turned back toward the water, the invitation to be clean for the first time in more than a year clearly calling to her.

He couldn't help but smile in amusement at the name she had dubbed him, but he turned his back and made his way back to the cave, just as he'd promised. She was free to undress and bathe without worrying anyone might see or take advantage of her.

She had no shame in being seen, having no pride or shame in her own form after years of use, and indeed, she was very quick to strip off her filthy rags and plunge into the water, almost weeping at the sensation of sweeping the grime from her skin and hair. And despite herself, she trusted that Kalan'ar would not touch her when she was most vulnerable. It was a strange feeling.

From outside came the sound of Luin's voice, calling out the call sign they all knew well. "In the heart of the woods lies sanctuary."

Greylin frowned, tilting her head toward Kalan'ar in surprise. Was he really going to protect her if something attacked them"

He visibly relaxed as he recognized Luin's voice and called back the counter-sign that would tell her that all was well, "Where those who are lost are now found." He remained where he was, between Greylin and opening of the cave, until he was sure they were safe.

"I'm coming in," Luin answered, the call and counter completed. She was in sight almost instantly, dragging a handful of dried bracken from the fall of her hair as she smiled at the pair of them. "Did I interrupt anything interesting?"

"Just stew making," Kal was quick to reply, his hand moving away from his dagger as he stepped back to retake his place near the pot and not far from the drow girl. "Did you find anything?" he asked, only knowing she and Hal had left to scout the area - for what, he didn't know. He felt himself shudder involuntarily, but there was nothing to fear. The drow of the Underdark hadn't followed them here, the gnome was safely within his dwelling, and the gnolls were no longer a threat. Why, then, did he feel a prickle at the back of his neck"

"Nothing but a feeling," Luin said. She had never seen the need to be untruthful about anything with anyone. "Hal's doing a last sweep close to, and then I'll set up the wards. It's ....strange. The woods feel watchful."

After a pause, Greylin asked in a small voice, "Is there a moon tonight?"

Luin glanced at her sharply. "Only a crescent. Tomorrow night, there'll be no moon."

"We'll be back in Anarven by then," Kal remarked, mostly to himself. There was no reason why they wouldn't be. It hadn't taken that long to get here; they had only decided to stay for the night. Come morning, they'd be on their way again and back home well before dark.

Luin nodded. "We will," she agreed. "There are wolves out there tonight, but they rarely interfere with us. They have plenty of food in this area - there's no need for them to attack people with weapons."

"Only wolves?" Kal asked, knowing there were far worse things in the night and that some wolves weren't only just wolves. He put another log on the fire, as if that might help keep them at bay, or at least lend a little light and warmth to the cave.

"If they are more than wolves, they have not shown themselves to be," Luin told him, sitting down with her bow across her knees. She pulled a pair of freshly killed rabbits from her belt. "Shall I skin these and add the meat to your stew there?"

"If you wish," he replied, leaving the decision up to her. The rabbits would definitely be a tasty addition to the meager contents of the stew, as it was. Anything else he might have said then was interrupted by Hal's return, finding his way almost silently into the cave.

"It's good we're staying the night. It's going to rain," he said, as he pulled the cowl back from his head and swung his bow down from his back. "Is that stew?" he asked, glancing over at the bubbling contents of the pot. "What else did they leave us?"

Greylin was watching with horrified fascination as Luin neatly sliced open the first rabbit and pulled the skin inside out, removing it apparently easily from the carcass without much more than a grunt of effort. She had never actually seen where meat came from before; this was something of a baptism by fire.

Luin glanced up at Hal. "There should be some flatbread in there somewhere," she commented. "Stonebread, maybe. Stuff that keeps."

Hal set his quiver and bow aside, an elven sword still strapped to his waist, as he went about the search for something to round out the stew. Kal noticed the look on Greylin's face, unsure if she had ever eaten cooked rabbit before.

"It's all right," he assured her. "We will give thanks for their sacrifice." He did not bother to say who they'd be giving thanks, whether the rabbits or a deity of some kind, letting her draw her own conclusion for now.

The cave was pretty well stocked with root vegetables and herbs, things to make a hunter's meal more enticing than pure meat and boiled water. There was enough there to make the stew better than it seemed on first glance. As Luin moved onto the second rabbit, having dropped chunks of red, bloodied flesh into the cooking pot, Greylin stood abruptly.

"I ....if I stand outside, will you expect me to run?" she asked, turning her eyes away from the blood on the she-elf's fingers.

Kalan'ar frowned, presuming it was the skinning of the rabbits that was upsetting the drow girl. It wasn't the most pleasant thing to watch, but it would fill their hungry bellies. "I'll go with you," he said, glancing to Luin momentarily, as if for permission. Someone would have to tend the stew while he was outside.

"Why don't you fetch some water?" Hal suggested, handing over a handful of water skins.

The redhead nodded to Kal easily enough. She knew what she was doing when it came to rough cooking, though she hadn't expected that reaction from the drow girl. "Of course," she agreed with Hal. "Don't stray too far, though. Neither of you are hunters."

Greylin, still hugging the soft shoes to her chest, nodded even as she looked toward the waterfall and the entrance to the cave, waiting for Kal to give her permission to step outside.

Kal took the skins and nodded to Greylin to go on ahead. Somehow, he was going to have to make her understand that she was really and truly free - that she had no master or mistress anymore - but perhaps now wasn't the time. He needed her to trust him, but he knew trust wasn't easily given. He followed her out, waiting until they were clear of the cave before speaking.

"Are you all right?" he asked, sounding concerned.

It was an instinct borne of a lifetime in servitude, but Greylin allowed it to reign over her, stiffening her back as she wiped her expression blank once more. "I am well," she lied quietly. "I wanted to see the sky." She tilted her face upward, peering between the boughs above toward the sliver of the moon still rising through the darkening sky.

"Those are sylannen?" Greylin's mouth fell open as she tilted her head backward, her whole body leaning with the movement until it was only the grip he had on her hand that kept her from tipping off her perch altogether. "I did not know they were so bright."

"The people of Rhy'Din say that there are other worlds out there among the stars. I do not know if that is true, but I do know that we are very far from the Underdark," he said, his head still tilted toward the stars, his fingers tightening their grip on her hand, so that she wouldn't fall.

She was still staring upward, her mouth still open like a child, tilting her head this way and that. "The stories said there were people made of stars," she said wistfully. "I cannot see them."

"Oh, you mean the pictures in the stars?" he asked, looking back at her. "Some people believe they are Gods, but I do not know if that is true," he said, glancing upwards again, his eyes searching for a familiar shape.

"There are pictures?" She frowned, glancing at him even as he looked back to the sky. "I see only pinpricks of light. Are my eyes not trained to see the sky as you do?"

"It is not easy to see them," he told her, letting go of her hand so that he could move beside her. "See there?" he asked, pointing to a particular place in the sky, though it was hard to follow where he meant. "That line of stars that almost looks like a winding tail with a head attached" That is called the Dragon."

"Where?" Without thinking, she shifted to better be able to follow the line of his pointing arm, bringing her back to his chest, so focused on the sky and seeing this dragon of stars that she did not seem to notice that closeness.

He didn't notice that closeness for a minute, too intent on trying to show her the wonder of the night sky. "There!" he said, reaching for her hand and drawing it upwards with his, so that she could follow the line of her own arm toward the place where the constellation was twinkling in the night sky. It was only then, when they were so close together, almost mirror images of the other, that his gaze shifted to hers, startled to find her so close.

She was very small against him, a strange contrast between them - man and woman of a race where the men were often smaller than the women. Feeling him tense at her back, she became aware of their closeness herself, drawing her hand back to her chest as her gaze moved to meet his, that guarded wariness returned. "What ....what does the Dragon do?"

She was close enough that he could feel the warmth of her body against his chest, his heart beating a little bit faster. He tried to ignore it, feeling suddenly awkward. He'd never been this close to another female of his kind, other than his own mother. "What does it do?" he echoed her question with a light shrug of his shoulders. "It doesn't do anything. It's just a picture in the sky, not a real dragon."

"It has no significance?" she asked, very carefully putting just a little extra space between them, doing her best not to cause offense. For someone with her background, it was rare to have any kind of control over what happened when someone got physically close to her.

"Well, yes ....I mean, there are stories," he started, frowning as the clouds Hal had warned them about seemed to appear almost from nowhere, obliterating the dragon from view. He dropped his arm and rose to his feet. "We should be getting back," he said, and he'd yet to gather water from the falls.

"Will you tell me these stories sometime?" The question was asked hesitantly as she turned obediently at his words, bending to pick up the water skins he had brought out with them.

"If you wish," he replied, as he started toward the fall of water, behind which was the cave where the elves were waiting for them. "You will like Anarven," he told her, finding himself hoping he was right. There were very few of their kind in Anarven, and he had not really made many friends.

She shook her head, not willing to believe it. Not yet, in any case. "I will not be wanted," she predicted. "I am a female drow. It does not matter that my life has not been typical." She knelt by the pool, pressing the skins into the water to fill them.

Kal did not think this was true, but he understood why she might feel that way. "I will vouch for you," he told her. "But I do not think you need to worry. I have never seen them turn anyone away." Then again, just because he hadn't seen it didn't mean it hadn't happened.

Stoppering the two skins, she set them aside, reaching for the others. The task seemed to come automatically to her, no doubt a product of too many years under the lash. "My grandmother taught me never to show fear," she said suddenly. "She was the reason our House fell."

"What do you mean?" he asked, crouching down beside her to help fill the skins, just as he felt a few raindrops tap him on the shoulder.

"She was our Matron Mother," she said softly, letting him take one of the skins from her. "Her decisions weakened our House, and her madness killed my sisters. She -" She broke off at the feeling of cold water hitting her face, startled. Looking up, she was shocked to see and feel water falling out of the sky.

It was probably a good thing she was looking at the sky or she might have seen the shock on his face to know she was the granddaughter of a Matron Mother. "She what?" he asked, needing to know what had happened, feeling suddenly cold, and not because of the rain.

"There's ....there's water falling out of the sky!" The panic in Greylin's voice was clearly audible as she darted to her feet, staring up at the clouds in astonishment. The subject of the conversation had been forgotten in her wonder and shock.

"It's only rain," he explained, just starting to realize how little she knew about life on the surface, despite her year spent in the gnome's woods. But she'd spent most of her time there as a bird and birds didn't fret over cold or darkness or rain. Kal shrugged the cloak from his shoulders and drew it around hers. It wasn't much of a cloak, but it would keep her warm and dry.

"But ..." Surprised to find herself suddenly enveloped in something he had been wearing, she stared at him, wide-eyed and deeply confused. "Why would you ....you will get wet."

"It's only water, Greylin," he said with another shrug. There were far worse things than getting wet. He reached for the water skins, swiping them up off the ground. "Come, before it starts to pour," he said and would have offered her a hand if he was not carrying the skins.

Huddled under the cloak, Greylin moved to follow him, her own hands full with the other skins.

Greylin frowned, stepping back once again. "Words cause greater harm than blows," she said with a shake of her head. "You should take more care with them."

"Stew's ready," Hal broke in, interrupting what he hoped was not about to become an argument.

"It's all right," Kal reassured the little drow again, this time daring to bring his fingers to light against her arm, gently, briefly. "Are you hungry?" he asked, changing the subject.

Luin rolled her eyes, reaching out to hand Hal the bowls one by one. She didn't appreciate being told off by a drow, but she wasn't going to start a fight.

Greylin hesitated, looking up at Kal as he touched her arm. "I am, a little," she admitted. "Should I serve you?"

"No," Kal replied, forehead crinkling at her question. He opened his mouth to say something else when Hal interrupted again.

"I'm doing the serving," he said. "Come and get it!" he added, mimicking something he'd heard in the village.

And still Greylin hung back, her trained deference insisting that she be the last to eat of them all. You could not so easily cast off a lifetime - a childhood - of absolute obedience for fear of pain in a single afternoon.

But Kal would not let her hang back too long, as he reached for her hand again to pull her forward, if she would let him, that smile of reassurance returning to his face.

Hal wasn't going to wait too long though, ladling out two bowls of stew - one for Luin and one for whoever was next in line. "Before it gets cold," he said, holding that second bowl out for one of them to claim.

Luin took her bowl into her lap, reaching to rip the unleavened bread into four equal parts for them to share. Greylin let Kal tug her forward, still wary and uncertain of everyone and everything. She looked at the bowl Hal held, and back to Kalan'ar, taking it to give to the tall drow.

Kal frowned, but did not feel like arguing, taking the bowl from her with a polite nod of his head and some mumbled words of thanks. Now that he had the bowl in his hands, his stomach was reminding him how hungry he was.

"There, was that so hard?" Hal asked, as he handed the third bowl to the drow girl.

Taking the third bowl into her own hands, Greylin looked down into it, surprised to find that she was going to be eating the same meal as they were. She tilted her head, eyeing Hall curiously. "You do not know much of slavery, do you?"

Hal looked up, as he settled the last bowl of stew on his lap, surprised to find the drow addressing him, but even more surprised at the question. "I know enough," he replied, not volunteering anymore. He turned quiet, focusing his attention on the stew, or so it seemed.

Unsurprised by the lack of warmth from the two elves, Greylin took her bowl over to the far corner of the cave, curling down onto the floor to eat quietly. It was another trained instinct, but it seemed as though it might be welcomed in this instance. She should have known that elven kind would not take to her as Kal had tried to.

Kal looked between the trio, frowning as if he was debating what to do, who to choose. His heart went out to the drow girl, with whom he shared a common bond. He knew the elves meant well, but he thought they could have been friendlier.

"You should be more welcoming," he told them quietly. "That is what your prince would want." And with that said, he turned his back to join Greylin in the back of the cave.

Luin watched the two dark elves for a moment, feeling a faint pang of guilt. But she had her own reasons for not being the welcoming party that Kal seemed to want. She sighed, looking over at her mate regretfully. "I guess we should put on the kid gloves for this one."

"They'll be fine," Hal replied quietly, with a momentary glance at the other pair. "It's been a long day, and we're all hungry and tired. Tomorrow, we return to Anarven," he said, loudly enough for the dark elves to hear before looking back at Luin. "And we are done baby-sitting," he whispered.

The redhead rolled her eyes at his whisper, her smile more than a little amused but understanding why he was prickly about all this. She patted his arm, turning her attention back to her stew. In the shadow by the wall, Greylin inched just a little bit closer to Kalan'ar, taking advantage of the warmth radiating from his larger body as she chewed slowly.

The elf prided himself on being a royal guard - or at least, on having been one once. It was a rare honor, where he was from, and one he took very seriously, but he was having some trouble finding how he fit in here in Rhy'Din. It was easy to forget that he hadn't been here very long. Kalan'ar was relieved to find Greylin enjoying her stew, despite the contents of it. For a long time, there was no sound but the slurping of stew as elves and drow enjoyed their dinner.

In truth, the gamey stew was too rich for Greylin, but she didn't know how to say it without giving offence. So she swallowed it down, every piece, and sat hugging her knees to her chest, willing the strange nausea to fade from her uncomfortably full stomach.

Kal seemed to be having no trouble with the stew, but then, he'd had more time to become accustomed with the diet he shared with the other inhabitants of Anarven. It wasn't until he had finished his bowl that he noticed his companion was looking a little uncomfortable. "Are you all right?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

Keeping her lips pressed together, she nodded in answer to Kal's question, unaware that she was developing a distinctly queasy pallor to her skin as sweat began to bead on her brow. She had never felt this ill after eating before, trying to swallow down the desire to vomit. The elves would likely hold it against her if she did.

He noticed how she was starting to look a bit ill, and turned to see if the elves were paying them any heed, before setting both their bowls aside and moving to his feet. "You need some air," he told Greylin quietly, reaching to help her up. He hoped the elves wouldn't protest, or they might end up with stew on their pretty elven boots.

It galled Greylin that she even needed this help, but she wasn't so proud that she wouldn't take it, holding her mouth firmly closed as her fingers gripped Kal's sleeves, drawn up onto her feet with roiling pain in her stomach. She hadn't eaten a full meal of any kind in more than a year; a hummingbird living on nectar did not compare to a drow eating mushroom paste, much less a full rabbit stew.

Kalan'ar sensed danger, but curiosity, too. He'd never seen anything like this before, and though he was afraid for Greylin, if the wolves wanted to attack them, they would have by now. Instead, he only stepped forward, taking a place just behind Greylin, not only to protect her, but almost as if he was claiming her as part of his own pack.

"There is nothing for you here, little brother, but we wish you and your pack good hunting elsewhere," he told the wolf, in the common tongue, slowly lowering the sword so that he did not appear threatening.

The black wolf tilted his head, almost dog-like for a moment, acknowledging the lack of hostility in the male before him. Then his gaze returned to Greylin, and she dared to reach out, driving her fingers gently through the creature's thick fur. He made a low grumbling sound in his throat, a sound of pleasure, his tongue lolling out to lick her wrist as she pulled her hand away, then backed up a step or two. With a last look to Kalan'ar that seemed to contain a nod between equals, the black wolf bounded back into the forest, his pack following at his heels.

Kalan'ar remained where he was, stock still, beside Greylin, tensing as the wolf sniffed at her hand, though the wolf seemed non-menacing. He was wise enough to know this was the alpha male and showing any weakness or aggression could get them killed. He only watched, his knuckles white in their grip upon the sword, only exhaling in relief when the wolf bounded away, his pack falling in behind him.

Greylin was enchanted, watching the wolves leave them with shining eyes. She rose slowly to her feet, raising her wrist to sniff where the rough tongue had licked her with an unconscious smile. The sensation in her mind seemed clearer, somehow - not the Dark Maiden, of that she was certain.

Kal did not understand what had just taken place, even though he'd seen it. He'd never seen anything like it. While wolves were not commonly known to hunt elves, they were not really known for being friendly either, and yet, there was no questioning what he had just witnessed.

"I do not understand," he murmured, mostly to himself. Had the wolves sensed the druid on her, or was it something else?

"Is there an oak near here?" Greylin asked softly. She didn't even know what an oak was, just that she felt the need to find one. "Whatever that is." She turned to look at Kal, her smile smoothing into the now familiar blankness.

"An oak tree?" he echoed, looking toward where the clearing gave way to woods. "Perhaps ..." he said, uncertainly. "Come," he told her, sheathing his dagger and reaching for her hand, the elf sword still balanced in the other.

A soft thump against the ground behind him made itself known as Greylin laid her hand in his, distracting them both from the trust in that gesture as Luin approached them. "What was that?"

Kal did not bother to answer Luin's question. She might be there to protect them, but she was not their master. "We need to find an oak tree," he told her instead. Another thump declared Hal's return, turning a silent but questioning expression to his mate.

Luin glanced at Hal, but they both knew the sight of a god's hand on companions better than they might have thought. She looked back to the two dark elves.

"Now?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

Greylin's fingers tightened on Kal's hand. She would like to go now, yes, but she dared not say it aloud.

"Yes, now," Kalan'ar answered for them both, though it was Greylin who had asked for one. He seemed to have somehow become her protector and her intermediary with the elves, at least for now. "I do not know why, but ..." He trailed off, looking back at Greylin with a puzzled expression on his face. "I think she may be Goddess-touched."

That, of course, begged the question, which goddess" But Luin wasn't going to ask, instead glancing around to orientate herself. "There is an old oak not too far from here," she said. "It's actually between us and Anarven."

"Lotha suru," he said, giving Greylin's hand a light squeeze to gain her attention. "Can it wait until morning?" he asked, unsure what was going on, but ready to do whatever she bade him. She might be a drow female, but she had been a slave, just like him, and as such, he found that he trusted her.

Greylin paused, glancing back to the forest in the direction the wolves had fled. The sense of someone in her mind gentled, as though giving her permission to sleep first. Her eyes rose to meet Kal's. "I ....believe so."

"We should rest," he said - all of them, though she clearly needed it the most.

"I will take first watch," Hal volunteered, stepping closer and holding out his hand to reclaim his sword, which Kal returned to the elf without hesitation.

Strangely wearied almost more by the encounter with the wolves than by her moment of stomach upset, Greylin didn't take her hand out of Kalan'ar's as they moved back toward the cave. Luin paused, frowning a little worriedly as she looked up at Hal.

"I didn't imagine all that, did I?"

Kal lead the drow girl back to the cave and disappeared inside, presumably so that they both could get some rest. Hal watched as they departed before turning back to Luin, his frown mirroring his mate's.

"Not unless I imagined it, too," he said, pausing a moment in thought. "Perhaps she knows some druid magic," he suggested. She had spent a year or so with the gnome. Perhaps some of his abilities had rubbed off on her, or perhaps she was just gifted in her own way.

"Or she's a born druid, claimed by the Mother or one of the others when she was conceived," Luin pointed out in concern. "That might explain why Nesgrim didn't kill her. I mean, he clearly has reason to hate the drow. He should have killed her on sight. Instead, he looks after her for a full year or more, in his own way. But how does a being born in darkness get claimed by a deity of life and light?"

Hal was as puzzled as Luin. He did not know much of dark elves, but he knew that Kalan'ar and the other drow in Anarven had once been slaves and had good reason to hate the drow who had enslaved them. He didn't know much about Kalan'ar's background and even less about Greylin.