The sun was climbing high above the Prancing Pony as the small but fiesty figure of Audea of Bree strode determinedly towards the fountain that graced the square. Xanderian of Belfalas, perched on the stone edge of the fountain, did not seem surprised when the young Minstrel called out “Miss…Miss Xan!!!” causing several villagers to stop and stare.
After all, if one knew that the elleth was in Bree and was of a mind to seek her out, this fountain or the Pony’s hearthside would be where you would look, and young Audea was indeed seeking her enigmatic friend out, with a scrap of paper in her hand, waving it like a war pennant.
The huntress tilted her raven-tressed head to the side, both curiosity and concern gleaming in her eyes as she regarded the Songstress. Just the day before she and Audea had shared their worries over Hawke, the young man that Xanderian called the Urchin, who had not been seen in Bree for some days as far as either knew. Considering the mysteries surrounding the young man’s heritage and the fact that shadowy local powerbrokers seemed dedicated to causing him harm, this caused them both deep anxiety for each loved him in their own fashion. Now it seemed there had been a development. Whether for good or ill, the elleth had no idea, but she sensed a great change suddenly rushing over them all like a stormy wind as surely as if it were blowing Audea towards her.
Audea was flushed and agitated as she ran up to the elleth, seeming quite beside herself with a great mix of emotions. “Miss Xan…Miss Xan…He’s alive…Hawk’s ALIVE, but he’s hurt. Look here, you got to read this Miss Xan.” She pushed the scrawled note into the Huntress’ hand.
Carefully unfolding it Audea practically hopped from foot to foot, Xanderian perused the simple note, written on a scrap of paper which appeared to be have torn out of the back of a discarded book of some kind, noting that it did indeed seem to be from Hawk based on the penmanship (poor) and spelling (phonetic).
Xanderian smiled broadly and handed the note back to the Breelander. “This is indeed a relief, dear Easily Intimidated Songstress. Now at least we know he is alive, and concerned that you not worry about him…though his closing remark causes me some concern. “Don’t worry if I am not walking right for a few days.” Most vexing and cryptic, I must say.”
Audea frowned deeply, biting her lip, still not completely sure what the word “Vexing” meant but familiar enough with the way the elf used it to know it was bad. Maybe not “bad bad” but bad enough she reckoned. What was it about her odd friend that could relieve her worst fears while also dampening her most fervent hopes…and why does she always have to use strange words?
Before she could question the elleth further however, a bright voice greeted them from the stairs of the Pony. Gretal Greenbrier joined the pair in her typical rush, happily greeting Audea while accepting Xanderian’s embrace, kissing the Huntress softly before tucking herself under the elleth’s arm. “You two look serious for such a beautiful day…what did I miss?”
Audea waved the note at Gretal, then controlled herself….”We…ummm..I…got a note from…someone…from…well…Hawke…and he says he is hurt…which isn’t unusual for him but still…”
Gretal nodded, brushing her chestnut hair back, still pressed into Xanderian’s side. “Yep. His leg is hurt. Not sure how bad…but…yeah.”
Both Audea and Xanderian stared in shock at this offhand revelation.
Gretal shrugged, suddenly feeling self-conscious, glancing from face to face. “It’s hardly a secret. Lots of people watched it happen, so don’t blame me. Some elf I have never seen was in some kind of trouble, fighting three thugs right out here in the square. Hawke jumped in and fought with them, got hit with a club or something in the leg but chased the thugs away. The elf limped off without even saying thank you, and your Hawke disappeared once he got his leg bandaged. Didn’t you hear about it, Rian? The whole Pony was talking about it. He was quite the hero to hear folks talk about it now, and to be fair, he doesn’t lack for nerve.”
Xanderian nodded at this assessment and news, but Audea still stared in amazement. “Hurt in a fight to protect an elf he di’na even know? What was he thinkin’, the daft fool? And where is he now?”
Xan pointed behind the Songstress, towards the market square. “There.”
Audea spun, and sure enough there was Hawke, making his way up the street slowly and painfully. He was limping heavily, though trying to hide it with limited success.
The girl ran up and helped him to the fountain, fussing all the while as Hawke tried to wave away her concerns.
Hawke shrugged as he finally sat on the edge of the fountain. “I’m tellin’ ya love, I am fine…it’s nothing. Heya Gretal, elf-lady.”
Xanderian shook her head and stepped forward, kissing Hawke softly. “It is a great relief to see you, my Urchin. I will now remove your pants.” Then before he could speak, she kissed him again, long and hard as his protests died before he could speak them.
Audea stared as the passionate kiss was given and returned, then looked down at her boots, clearing her throat awkwardly.
Gretal just shook her head, smiling as she watched the kiss. “Rian….Riiiaaannnnnn….”
The huntress broke the kiss, allowing Hawke to catch his breath, and looked at Gretal, who quirked her head towards Audea. “Maybe you should give someone else a turn…and let him take his own pants off if he has a mind to?”
Xanderian nodded gently, and stepped away to embrace Gretal again as Audea moved forward, kissing the wounded young man softly, with little of the fervor but all of the affection of the woman Hawke had called “elf-lady” from the day they had met.
“With or without pants, we should get him somewhere quiet and secure,” the elleth explained. “It would not due for his enemies to find him on the street wounded in such a fashion.”
After a brief argument, which worried Xanderian all the more due to the ease with which Hawke surrendered, Audea helped Hawke into the Pony to find a suitable spot to assess his wounds. His leg was indeed badly bruised and lacerated, having been given a solid but glancing blow from a mace and it was causing enough pain walking that he allowed Xanderian to bathe the wound and rebandage it...after he had removed his own pants, smirking at all three women.
Leaving Audea to tend Hawke as he rested his leg in a room at the back of the Pony, Xanderian and Gretal both withdrew and some hours later were standing by the hearth of when two figures came into the Inn off the street. They moved to the bar and spoke in low tones, keeping an eye on the crowd. One of them, the local villain called Hilston who had been pursuing Hawke, was known to the elleth who watched him closely. The other figure, a dangerous looking individual, white haired and bearded with a venomous sneer and a scarred face, was unknown to the huntress…but she did not like the look of him.
Hilston was looking more and more nervous as he and the mysterious man continued speaking in hushed voices when Audea ambled down the steps, hands slid into her pockets and a smile on her lips. Upon seeing Xanderian and Gretal, she approached and quietly greeted them, smiling. "Ah.. 'lo, Miss Xan, Miss Gretal. Thank ya'.. fer everythin'."
Hilston looked up, hearing Audea speak, and his eyes widened then narrowed. He tilted his head and murmured something to his foreboding companion.
Gretal noticed Hilston being odd, and pointed him out to Audea. "Just a moment, Audea. Do you know him? He certainly seems to know you."
Audea canted her head, her gaze following Gretal’s to Hilston and his companion. Immediately, her smile dropped, and she glared daggers in his direction.
The mystery man had turned his head slowly and casually to look at the three women.
Xanderian watched the two men quietly as Audea leaned into her, whispering urgently. “That is that blackguard, Hilston. 'He *has* t'stay away from Hawk. Can't know where he is. No way.”
Xanderian whispered “Gretel....step away” and moved around Audea...one hand straying down to her sword as she glanced at the chestnut hair Breelander who was preparing to walk up and confront the strangers over Audea’s fears. “Gretel....step away.”
Audea side-stepped, reaching out to gently lay a hand on Xanderian's forearm, attempting to silently tell her to back down with little effect as the mysterious stranger crossed his arms arrogantly. He turned his head, keenly studying the other patrons. His venemous green eyes noticed Xanderian’s stance and his scarred, impassive face shifted ever so slightly into a smirk.
Xanderian remained impassive but Gretal moved behind Audea, within arm's reach.
Audea moved both hands to her hips and gathering up her nerve, called out "Wha's got ya' so secretive, eh, Hilston?"
Hilston gulped. He had noticed all the attention and heated glares he was getting, and his collar definitely felt too tight. ''Right...until the appointed time,'' he murmured to his companion, as if discussing business. He then walked as quickly and casually as he could manage out of the Pony.
Xanderian made no move to stop Hilston, already discounting the rat-like schemer. All her attention was on the remaining man.
Audea made a face as she turned to watch the man walk out. "Weasel," she uttered before pivoting on her heels to look at the one Hilston had been quietly chatting with.
Xanderian smiled coldly. “Hush dear Audea...he is simply the go between...he will die in due time, likely by his own errors.”
Audea was already stepping slightly forward to confront the stranger but was still keeping her distance. ''Hey. You some hired muscle or somethin'? Hilston can't ever fight his own battles.”
The stranger had uncrossed his arms and watched as the cowardly little man left, but now he bowed his head with mock politeness to Audea and the pair of ladies near the fire. He then turned and ordered a round of drinks for all the patrons in the bar.
Xanderian smiled, and stepped forward to put a hand on Audea’s shoulder. “Audea....hush.”
Audea scowled at being ignored, ignoring the huntress while raising her voice louder. "I asked…Are you some hired muscle or somethin'?"
The stranger smirked more broadly. “Hired muscle? What a strange phrase. Come closer, or do you intend to shout like a child from across the room. Hm?”
Gretal shook her head no to Audea but the younger woman rolled her eyes, her hands dropping to her sides as she oh-so-boldly approached the man, just as he had requested. "Yer old man ears can't hear me or wha'?"
Xanderian sighed softly to herself...and followed Audea.
The stranger was twice Audea's size in height and width, but he offered her an almost polite little smile. His scarred face made it seem hideous all the same. ''Such a tongue you have. I am no old man, I assure you.'' He gestured towards the drinks the barman has procured for any who would take them. ''That man who left was simply telling me all about a...lovely bird, native to this place.''
Audea was a fearless little thing, her arms folded firmly over her chest as she stared up at the man before her with a hard expression. "Oh, was he now? 'course. An' I don't suppose he was sayin' too many nice things 'bout this bird, was he?"
He shook his head slowly, still smirking. ''On the contrary. He told me many interesting things about it. I am eager to see for myself.''
Xanderian nodded to herself at the repartee, seeing clearly that the game was afoot, and spoke, “Then you are a nature lover, friend?”
The stranger nodded to the rather more intimidating she-Elf hovering just at Audea's shoulder. ''That is right,'' he drawled.
The huntress nodded again. “You seem a sensible sort, friend...you take a, well, a professional's interest in such creatures as birds I would imagine from your eye and stance.”
The stranger nodded, enjoying the way this was going. “The rarer and more beautiful the better. You understand me very well.'
Xanderian smiled, her eyes cold as death. “Then as such, you must admit...that often the fairest birds nest in places two complex and inhospitable even for a professional such as yourself to observe...in fact, even the attempt becomes....foolhardy. As a professional, you know when no coin makes the attempt worthwhile. Sometimes...it is best to live to hunt another day. Is it not?”
The stranger laughed quietly. It was a very harsh and unpleasant sound. ''Indeed, there are times when the greatest collector must forego the chase.'' He shrewdly eyed the three women. ''However, I pride myself on -always- finding what I seek.'' His gaze grew colder. “After all...an injured bird cannot fly far.”
Xanderian smile grew warmer, but more frightening. "Sometimes....it does not have to. In fact, correct me if I am wrong, but I have heard tell of birds who when injured, will make a great show of their infirmity...so as to draw in a predator that their fellows may mark them, and dispatch them. Nature is a ruthless place, is it not...and so often...hunter becomes hunted in the blink of an eye.”
Audea got right up in front of the stranger suddenly, speaking harshly, quietly, and through bared teeth: "You bloody stay away."
Agdarom turned from Xanderian's to stare at Audea, smiling. ''Ah, little one. You have something to say about this 'old man's' hobby?''
Xanderian rested a hand on her shoulder but Audea wasn’t ready to back down, for better or for worse, and stared up at the stranger, unblinking for a time. "If you hurt him, you will regret it. I can promise you tha'," she managed to say before being tugged back by Xanderian’s strong hand.
The huntress was eager to end this, a vague disquiet growing on her. Something was nagging at the back of her mind, but she didn’t know what. “I think an understanding has been reached....or at least I would hope that one has. Am I incorrect, friend?”
''Perhaps so.” said the stranger. “It would seem I am not the only one interested in this particular bird.''
Xanderian nodded slowly, eyes flinty. “Indeed....I am also an enthusiast. I also take great interest in falcons and the like. I have been known to hunt a creature for leagues if need be, before bringing it down...Some have called me...a bit obsessive.”
The stranger tilted his head very slightly. ''Falcons? How interesting. I came for a hawk.''
Audea tensed, as her nightmares seemed to be confirmed.
Xanderian seemed non-plussed however. 'A falcon hunting hawk...how curious.'
Audea clenched her fists and turned quickly on her heels to march into the back rooms of the Pony again to return to Hawke, having finally had enough of this twisted game. She called behind her “Shove off, old man!” Noting her upset, Gretal followed after her.
Xanderian smiled softly, feeling confident the game was in hand..."Passions run high, as I am sure you understand. I would suspect Hilston has misrepresented this task...he is not a very clever sort.”
The stranger raised his hands disarmingly and turned his gaze to Xanderian. ''Is he not? Though he may not be clever, I am afraid the little one will find the nest empty.''
Suddenly it all made sense. Hilston’s departure. The mention of meeting again “at the appointed time”. The long battle of wits with the stranger. Xanderian sighed softly. She now saw that she had been out maneuvered as if she were an amateur."Well played, friend. But I fear that leaves you forfeit...”
The stranger shrugged. “Ah, perhaps so. I may yet catch up, no?”
Xanderian drew her sword slowly, Lovelorn catching the light of the hearth so that the blade appeared to be aflame. "Most unlikely...
Suddenly Gretal charged back into the room, her eyes wild as she grabbed Xandarian by the arm, heedless of the situation before her. “Rian… come now!”
The elleth hesitated, a blood rage rapidly building as the stranger just smiled, still empty handed, seeing if the huntress would murder an unarmed man before a room full of witnesses.
Gretal tugged hard at her. “NOW!!!”
The stranger looked pointedly at the chestnut haired woman and back to the elf. ''I think you are being summoned.''
Xanderian sighed softly...and sheathed Lovelorn. "Count your days friend...you belong to me now. It is just a matter of time...'
Gretal shouted, “Xan!! COME!”
The stranger allowed himself one small smile and turned back to the bar as Xanderian and Gretal ran to the back rooms of the Pony.
As they reached the room where Hawke had been resting, Gretal showed Rian the now empty bed festooned with slashed, bloody sheets. “Please tell me you moved him!”
In the center of the chaos of the room was Audea. Hawke’s seagull pendant, her yule gift to him, clutched in one trembling hand as she stood, frozen, weeping silently.
Hawke, however, was gone.
