[Aylwen Dreamsong]

'I thank you for that. I hope it does not come to a matter of life or death Cartil...' Laurel stammered, and Cartil smiled weakly. Hope was fleeting in the end of their fight for Alphirion, Cartil knew, but the hope in Laurel’s eyes was strong and unfaltering. It almost made the hope in Cartil’s heart jump back up into his throat. But where would the hope fly to when the battles continued and the plans were executed?

‘Yes, I hope…’ Cartil paused at the word. ‘I hope so too, but sometimes hope is blind to reality. In any case, if things do go ill, I will be there until the end,’ Cartil finished, looking up at Laurel and releasing her hand. The hope remained in her eyes, and if it was possible, the hope became even stronger than it had been before. Cartil wondered if Laurel’s hope was ever capable of failure, or if her faith and pride would ever die. Cartil thought not, but if it ever should he knew it would be a dark day. Just as Cartil had released Laurel’s slender hand, Jesslyn walked back in with three glasses and a slightly chipped water pitcher.

‘Hmm…let’s see…’ Jesslyn murmured, pouring glasses of water and passing them around. A smile was playing on her lips and excitement was in her eyes. ‘So, I was thinking, since I’m taking the archers and all…’ Jesslyn began, speaking to Laurel and practically ignoring her brother on his cot. ‘I could take them and surround their camp in a circle through the woods. We could pick off any Wild Men we see on the fringes, one by one in secret and hide the bodies and work our way into the main encampment. Then the main armies on foot can come in and take care of the core of the Wild Men, and the archers will have your backs. How does that sound? We can leave soon, before the main attack was supposed to take place! We’ll have everything ready for the armies to join us tomorrow morning or noon!’

--

Stefan led Fiona away from Elena and Adela, and took her small shoulder in his grasp. She stared defiantly back at him, and his eyes softened for he could never be mad at Fiona for long. Stefan sighed and let go of the girl's arm. Then he folded his arms across his chest, thinking about what to say that would convey his frustration but not hurt Fiona.

'Fiona! I can't believe you sometimes!' Stefan began, knowing it was a weak start. He sighed again, this time out of serious frustration. 'There are so many things you just said that were completely unacceptable. First of all, were you accusing me of cowardice back there? When you asked why I was not with your brother?'

'Maybe,' Fiona mumbled darkly, a smug look on her face. 'Besides, you're not my mother or father. You can't tell me what is right or wrong. And why didn't you stay and fight? You are old enough. That was all I was trying to point out! You could have helped fight!'

'That's beside the point! Maybe for once I decided to stop thinking about saving my own hide and help someone else live!' Stefan spoke as loud as he could without shouting or yelling. 'I saved Adela! She would have been killed if I hadn't helped her make it to the cave!'

'You were scared!' Fiona accused, pointing, raising her voice to match Stefan's. 'If you had stayed to fight you would have been saving lives for every Wild Men you might have killed. But no, you decided to save some little girl that could have been saved by someone else!'

'That's another thing,' Stefan continued, interrupting Fiona. 'She might not have her mother and father anymore! For all you know they could be dead, just like your mother might be dead!' - Fiona gasped audibly at this horrendous claim - 'She's four years old, you don't need to push it!'

Stefan saw Fiona's face after he finished talking, and then his heart sank. He'd gone too far by mentioning Fiona's mother. Fiona's face had noticibly paled, and she turned away from him to go back and join Elena and Adela. Stefan caught up with her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

Adela considered what her answer to Elena would be, and munched quietly on her apple, contemplating whether she should even answer in the first place. It certainly was not proper to tell strangers of your disposition and such. Even the cold four-year old Adela knew that! So silly, this girl… Adela thought amusedly. But Elena seemed intent on an answer, so Adela gave her one.

‘I have short legs,’ Adela answered shortly. ‘Stefan is tall. He is twelve, I know.’

Elena laughed, though it seemed almost like it was forced, as if she did not have the heart to laugh. Adela did not blame her; it was not a happy time, and laughing was not appropriate at such a dark time. Even Adela knew this! So silly, this girl… Adela thought again, taking another bite of her apple. Then Elena asked what Adela meant by Stefan being tall, and Adela wondered if Elena was from Alphirion, for she seemed so strange! Maybe she is just old? Adela alleged, wondering.

‘I had to run from the dirty ugly men,’ Adela explained, matter-of-factly. ‘Stefan offered to save me. He is so nice,’ Adela informed Elena, using her vocabulary of small words. ‘Yes. I told him thank you and he is my saver-boy. That is why I am with Stefan.’

‘Ah, I see,’ Elena said, her eyes aglow. At that moment, Stefan returned from his conversation with Fiona, and his cheeks were red as he held Fiona tightly around her left shoulder. They sat down, and it seems that Stefan was nervous to say anything, for fear of setting off the quietly fuming Fiona.

‘Stefan! Stefan! I got me an apple! Guess who? Guess who! Say who gave it to me!’ Adela said excitedly, crawling over to him and giving his a wringing hug about his neck. Then she left him, and rejoined Elena, sitting in front of her cross-legged. Adela smiled up at Elena, and Stefan shrugged, not much in the mood for speaking after having an argument with Fiona about who had gone where, and what had happened to her mother, and what had happened to everyone.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 9:55 PM January 19, 2004: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]