The Awesome Project

Elijah

Eli felt wonderful today. In fact, his father's ship was now docking in Haven. The morning breeze was blowing at the perfect temperature around him and once he delivered the letter from his father to Marlon, he would go visit his mother.

Then he would be on his way again. Traveling, courtesy of his father, was Eli's favorite thing to do. Perhaps Haven might even have a few pretty women he could talk to.

Elijah walked off the ship, whistling between his teeth happily. Yes, today was a good day. He did miss his mother. It would be good to talk to her after so long. Although, being that she was a healer, she probably wouldn't have much time to talk to him.

Eli started walking towards Marlon Grey's house. He winked at young women who passed him who either giggled or rolled their eyes. Elijah frowned, forehead creasing, and looked around. From what his father told him, the letter was very important to deliver. But where was Marlon Grey's house?

Again, Eli started walking, suddenly uncomfortable and confused. He didn't like the new change. He needed to find Marlon's place and just get away.

After a few minutes, Eli was sure he was just walking in circles. He remembered seeing some of the same people now and even though the town wasn't really that big, Eli was hopelessly lost.

Eli took a deep breath and spotted a huge house right ahead of him. He would go there. That person obviously had money and class. He would ask them about Mr. Grey.

Lorraine Ashford

A healer? What on earth would Mr. Dahlia need a healer for? No, it wasn't her place to ask him. She thought hard. A healer...

"I believe I heard one of the guests talking about it. They said a healer was coming to Haven. She should be here by the end of the week, Mr. Dahlia." Lorraine couldn't keep herself from biting her lip. "I hope you're not injured."

His eyes were glazed over and he stared into the distance. "Not until the end of the week..."

"Mr. Dahlia? A-are you all right?" she squeaked. She couldn't see any injuries as of the moment but maybe he'd gotten wounded and hid the wound under his clothes. "Mr. Dahlia? If you're wounded I-I can clean it until the cleaner c-comes. And if you're sick you ought to rest - you shouldn't be walking around -"

He blinked. "Oh. No, I'm fine. I'm worried about a friend."

A friend? A female friend? A blush crept onto Lorraine's cheeks. Maybe Mr. Dahlia was finally getting married! She'd heard her brothers teasing him about not being married yet. Maybe he'd finally given in and chosen a bride.

"Ah, I see. A friend. I'll ask one of my brothers to tell you when she comes into town," Lorraine curtsied and gave him a sunny smile. "Don't hesitate to ask for help anytime, Mr. Dahlia."

Lorraine left the room with a brighter shine in her eyes. That was a wonderful way to start her day. Good news never hurt anyone.

Then she paused and turned around. "We also have some medicine on hand if you need it at once. Just ask me if you decide to tell me what curious sickness your mysterious friend has."

Talon | Ashford's Inn

He jerked his head up at the mention of medicine. "Well, you see," Talon hesitated, biting down onto his lip for a moment, worried of being blamed for something much greater than just a few hornet stings. "Mrs. Goose... There was this wager," Talon began explaining all that had happened, ending on a vaguer note than had truly happened. "And suddenly, Mrs. Goose found herself in a swarm of Red Hornets."

Lorraine looked up, wide-eyed and worried. If he remembered correctly, Lorraine had fallen into a hive of Red Hornets a year or two ago herself. Her father hired a healer to come to town and the entire town made a fuss about it. "Oh, dear!" She hurried into the back where the family lived, bustling around in a medicine cabinet.

After what felt like hours, she returned with a small bottle of elixir. "Father says it's the best thing to tide her health over." She nodded, pointing to the lable. "At least until the healer arrives later this week."

Talon looked down at the hand-scrawled lable:


"Huh..." Talon nodded, smiling down to Lorraine. "Thank you so much, Miss Lorraine." He reached into his pack, retrieving a few coins. "Please let your father know how grateful I am." Before leaving, he leaned in, giving Lorraine a quick peck on the cheek with a wink. "Have a nice day, Miss Ashford!" he yelled as he ran off to Marlon's home.

___________________
The Grey Estate
___________________

After the short mile-run, a few quick I really must go!'s to the pretty girls, and a quick shoulder-bump-in with a boy half my size, I arrived back at Marlon's home to a young messenger at the front door, dressed like a seafarer. He was caught up in conversation with the maid, so I paid him no mind and rushed in the back of the house to where Marlon had Mrs. Goose lying. But of course, I could hear her griping from the front lawn.

She was moaning in the study, but still managed to entertain Marlon with a story about her eldest daughter, Phoebe. She was musing on how lovely the wedding invitations would be. "Just imagine it, Master Grey, a lovely bronze placcard delivered straight to the doorways of those invited with large words reading GREY-GOOSE WEDDING across the top!" Marlon was seated at his desk, giving the appropriate nod when necessary, but his eyes were out the window, watching the shipyard.

I stepped into the study shyly, nodding to Mrs. Goose before kneeling in front of her. "I must apologize again for this awful incident, Mrs. Goose. But, as it turns out, the healer will not be in town until the latter part of this week. But I did manage to obtain this!" He held out the bottle of Stella Gala's Miracle Elixir and she didn't hesitate to take an eager drink of the contents.

"Now, Mrs. Goose, I'd advise you to go home and rest."

She gave a quick nod of agreement, brightening up instantly. The old goose could've drank forest wiskey and felt just as well, he thought. She gave one final babble to Marlon and wobbled her way out of the room. Neither Marlon nor Talon spoke until they saw her amble across the lawn. And just as Talon turned to speak once more, the door to the study opened to a younger lad, the one from the front lawn, with a parcel in hand.

Elijah

Elijah watched an older looking lady leave the estate he was walking up to. She eyed him, almost as if recognizing him, and went on her way.

Eli smiled to the gentlemen up ahead. He clutched the letter in his left hand and walked gracefully to the door. He raised his nose up in the air, hoping he would notice his fabulous clothes and expensive jewels. After all, he had the best, and it was only natural to show them off.

"Excuse me, sir," he gave the man a winning smile. "I'm Elijah Edwards. I'm sure you've heard of me. You see, I'm in town to deliver this letter to a Mr. Marlon Grey. I'm not exactly sure where he is. Or who he is to be frank. In fact, I bet he's a poor peasant farmer. I'm not looking foward to shaking hands with that man, you know?"

Elijah laughed loudly, not caring that the other didn't seem to think that his comment was funny.

"I'm Marlon Grey," a pointed, irratated voice rang from behind the young man Eli was talking to.

Eli raised an eyebrow. "You? Oh well then it is good news that I came here to begin with. I don't fancy going to talk to...well, them."

Marlon's jaw flexed in a dangerous way that Eli ignored. "By them, do you mean people?" Mr. Grey asked, cold and indifferent.

Eli, realizing he was treading on ricky waters, backtracked. "No, no, no," he gave a false laugh. "I don't mean anything by that-"

His arguement only seemed to be making Marlon all the more angry. Elijah looked at both of the men as if seeing them for the first time. He was suddenly just ready to get out of here.

"Just - I was sent by my father, Stefan Edwards, to give you this," Eli said, hasitly thrusting the letter at Marlon.

He was tempted to leave just then, but his father told him to make sure he stayed and waited for him to finish. Eli shifted self-consciously. He didn't like this man very much. Or his friend.

Noah stiffened his muscles as he laid flat against a hard, wooden trunk, careful not even to scratch the bark with his fingertips. An elder gentlewoman and a younger lad were crossing paths among the steep, grassy hill. He held his breath as he listened to the faint footsteps die away, not moving his neck an inch as his eyes followed the gentlewoman down the hill and into her carriage. The horses galloped away as he heard the creaking of the mansion door, and a quiet greeting his delicate ears couldn't decipher. The moment the door closed, he sprinted farther into the maze of trees and watched the front lawn. Not a soul to be observed.

Assuming whatever distraction he was to take advantage of had recently left, Noah debated on whether or not to pursue his capricious whim. The young man may divert the attention of only some of those who took care of the mansion, and it was but mid-afternoon. It was all too likely he would be seen, and caught. Security would be tighter, and the consequences severe. He wouldn't risk it, not yet. Perhaps in the dead of night, where those who keep a watchful eye are resting, and those about only making cursory checks upon the dark, empty rooms.

The wind whistled, and Noah leaped across the stray sticks and fallen branches, swiftly crossing the forest like a lithe dancer rehearsing for a ballet. The heel of his foot not once touched the dirty, weedy earth that grew strong, looming trees. He found footing on a fallen oak and gripped it with his toes, springing from the rounded platform to a branch several yards above his head. Grasping it firmly, Noah swung himself through the cool air and landed lightly on his knees. The outline of the home was clear from inside the forest, and he squinted for a better view. He wouldn’t chance the possibility of being spotted and becoming a credible suspect for the theft that may or may not occur. Take no chances.

The wood was not vast, and when Noah turned his head the other direction, he could already see the other end. He carefully fell from the tree and, appearing in town, smiled at townspeople casually that happened to glance his way. Again he set his eyes on the trees that watched his own house. Two moving figures were departing from the aforementioned trees, seemingly chatting amiably. The flowing, blonde hair’s sheen caught between the sun’s rays, and the twinkle allowed Noah’s lips to slightly twist into a smile. Cressida…

Gwendolen

A plump little man met Gwendolen at his home near the outskirts of Haven. He dabbed at his forehead continuously with a brown-strained cloth and gasped for air after only walking a few steps.

“Mr. Reginald Haley, connoisseur of fine food and local properties,” he introduced himself, smiling proudly as he did. He reached his hand for Gwendolen’s. She took it reluctantly, wiping his sweat off her hand at the first moment he looked away. “Now Miss…?”

“Hawthorne,” Gwen said. “Gwendolen Hawthorne.” It was the family name of the man who had first shown Gwen kindness, the one who had taken her into his home for three years. The one who had owned the same horse she rides today. She took the name only upon necessity, and never in relation to her trade.

“Yes, Miss Hawthorne,” Mr. Haley said, air whistling between a gap in his front to teeth every time he spoke the letter s. “If you would please step inside, I’ll draw up the deed and arrange you with the key. Once the price has been paid, of course.”

“But of course,” Gwendolen said, smiling as pleasantly as she could.

Mr. Haley led her into the finely decorated home, inviting her to sit in a stiff grey chair near a well-stocked bookcase. He stepped into the adjoining office, all the while keeping up conversation with Gwendolen.

“What brings you to our fine town, Miss Hawthorne?” he asked. He could be heard shuffling through stacks of paper as he spoke.

“My husband, my dear Richard, died two years ago,” Gwendolen said, letting her eyes glisten with tears as she began her well-rehearsed tale. “It was just dreadful. I can’t bear to talk about it, not yet. It was just…dreadful.” Mr. Haley re-entered the room. Gwendolen shielded her grief-stricken expression with her hand. “I couldn’t stay there anymore. The grief from being in our home without him was too much.”

“Where was ‘there’ exactly?” Mr. Haley asked. A hint of disbelief tangled itself with his curious words. The rumors certainly hadn’t been wrong; Haven was a place where people needed to know everything.

“A town many, many miles from here, good Mister Haley,” Gwendolen said, looking up at him. He held the papers in his hands; Gwen reached out for them only to be a few inches short of the crisp white edges.

Mr. Haley smiled, holding the papers closer to his chest. “My son is quite the traveler, and the writer of gloriously detailed letters. Certainly I may have heard of it,” he said. “Do give me a name?”

“Oh, you bring so many sorrow-filled memories, Mr. Haley,” Gwen said. Her hand drifted to the approximate location on her leg where a knife was strapped and hidden. She stopped herself short, and brought her hand to cover a golden locket that hung around her neck. “The town was Moriston, such a small place. It’s only just past the sprawling hills that lie on the other side of the great Diamond River. It is many a week’s journey from here.”

Mr. Haley nodded. “Yes…” he mused. “I do believe I’ve heard something of the place. Very well then, Miss Hawthorne. If you will sign here, and pay the appropriate fee, I’ll gladly show you to your new place of residence.”

Gwendolen took the feather pen from the man and quickly penned her name on the deed. She placed a small bag of gold coins in the plump man’s greedy hands and rose from the chair. “Please, Mr. Haley, I am very tired. May you show me where I am staying?”

He handed her a small silver key and led her towards the door. “Oh it shouldn’t be hard for you to find on your own Miss Hawthorne. Your place is above the banker’s building, with a fine view of the sea. It’s the only bank building in town, and quite small. Our townsfolk don’t fancy having to travel to the city for a simple deposit or withdrawal, you see. You will have no trouble finding it.”

“Where shall I board my horse, and my wagon?” Gwendolen demanded. She had been under the impression that – for the price she paid – she would be living in at least a place decent enough to have its own arrangements for keeping a horse. A bank building in the business of the town would certainly not have the appropriate arrangements.

Mr. Haley shrugged. “Speak with Miss Lorraine Ashford at the inn; perhaps you can board your horse at their stables for a price.” He closed the door after several polite – though rather insincere – goodbyes and good days.

Gwendolen strode to her horse, mumbling under her breath. “The fat little man’s probably going to find a map and look up Moriston, the idiotic slob. I may be a criminal, but I am rarely a liar. Having lived in the place for at least three years, I’d think I’d know where the place was!”

She took her horse by the reins and led him towards where she assumed the bank building would be. Her hair fluttered behind her as she strode into the town, the belongings in the wagon rumbling and bouncing as the wooden wheels met imperfections in the road. Her heart raced at the idea of being lodged directly above the bank that held the money of nearly every person in the town of Haven. The situation couldn’t have been more perfect for her past life.

And the situation couldn’t be more perfect for you to be the first blamed, Gwendolen she thought to herself.

Upon having issued the same story she gave Mr. Haley to the man who owned the lower half of the bank building – the bank itself – and to his several associates, as well as to three boys on the street, Gwendolen entered her new home respectably with the boys carrying her belongings.

The apartment was spacious for its location. The floors were a fine, recently polished wood and the walls sported unstained wallpapers in rich colors. There were four rooms: a small kitchen area, an open parlor area that could easily double as a study, a rectangular bedchamber, and the necessary bathing facilities. It was small, but almost worth the cost paid for it.

The three boys deposited Gwendolen’s possessions in the parlor and left with two gold pieces each. Without unpacking, Gwendolen returned to the street and led her horse to where the banker man, Mr. Joseph Daley, had instructed her that the inn could be found. She was eager to put her horse someplace as soon as possible, and hoped that Miss Lorraine Ashford’s stables were in a well-hidden place. There were several things Gwen hoped to retrieve from her wagon later, in the cover of night.

[After you read this, you'll realize how creepy he is xD]

Noah

Cressida could wait; whoever he is, she had that large man shuffling along next to her to keep her company. Noah watched the sun in the distance begin to edge toward the sea, emitting a subtle golden-pink hue. His eyes narrowed as he pictured a hastily forged raft floating lazily out in the water, and a small black figure lying across it. The harsh morning light had beat down on his face, blinding him when his eyes fluttered open. Beyond baffled, he could only screech when he sat up, and tumble into the icy water. Only one individual had known where he had been sleeping that night, and could have managed to push him through the wet, muddy sand and into the harbor without letting him wake and shoot straight up in alarm.

He had awoken in alarm indeed, to the sound of the waves roughly shoving the raft, rocking his petite body back and forth. He recognized the salty smell of the wind before he opened his eyes, but his drowsiness didn't lead him to come to the ultimate conclusion until he went to adjust his position, and ended up drenching half his body. One foot and one hand still grasped the thick, brown cords that fastened the several logs continuing to drift farther and farther away from the port, and Noah had hastily lifted himself back up before his lips burned a solid blue. The dry foot had a parcel glued to his oversized boot, and his chilled fingers gripped it as he leaned over closer to read it. The scent of honey floated around his nose as he lifted his hand above his eyes, to shield them from the sunlight. Scrawled across in cheap ink was the message, "It was fun."

The gloves encasing his hands were beginning to smell of grime and sweat, so Noah slipped them off and left them to dry in his pockets. It figured that the first woman he lent an ounce of trust to repaid him in such a way. More than a year had past since he had laid eyes on such a beautiful criminal; more than a year had past since he watched her black hair bounce above her slim shoulders, and frame her soft, olive cheeks. He clenched his knuckles, piercing his roughed palms with his fingernails. Gasping quietly, he eagerly checked his hand, and frowned at the blood dribbling past his wrist. Quickly scanning the area for anybody within a close distance, he cleaned the blood with his small tongue, sucking on the wound for several seconds before wiping the saliva on his trousers. He flipped his hand over and examined it momentarily, running his eyes over the scratches and dirt indented into what once was clean, white and smooth. What he did was filthy - it was a disgusting profession, but Noah rationalized his choice of occupation with the fact that it kept him alive; away from ennui, away from the deceptive theater, away from a style of living that was low-quality and miserable. It kept him sane, and without his sanity, nothing in life bothered to matter.

A glimpse of dull black locks forced him, out of curiosity, to glance around the corner of the local bank, and he had found who appeared to be young woman strolling inside. The clothes were scuffed, and the delicate, feminine hands entirely too familiar. He had superficially strode alongside the building, casually peering inside the windows to watch the young lady speak with Mr. Daley. As he'd strolled, he caught a peek of her face from an angle. Countless times he's been curious enough to check if it was her, to check and see if she had just so happened to stroll into Haven, and he had just so happened to spot her. Noah had almost rushed to the backside of the bank, eyes wide, his greasy fingers slapped over his mouth.

His mind raced with memories of their several nights together, laced together in the darkness, warm breaths gently caressing his skin as he held her loosely. The last night his chest heaved with fatigue, and her large, green eyes urged him to succumb to his exhaustion. Instead of darting out into the chilly night air with his hair matted to his cheeks with sweat, he had laid with her the entire night, conversing softly with his eyes closed. Only she could engage him within her stories of thievery and lies, and actually impress. They whispered exchanges of their proud accomplishments, comparing loot and consequences, mocking their victims and laughing about the feeling only thieves experienced, the quintessential feeling of relief when you know you’ve escaped. Not once did he share any stories of murder, of slit necks and empty eyes staring into his soul. Even her criminal mind couldn't wrap itself around the concept of stealing innocent lives. Neither could his.

He heard the door of the bank open suddenly, and the sound of soles shuffling against the dirty road. The horse he had witnessed standing outside neighed softly, and her voice pierced the air like a knife to flesh. The color from his face instantly drained, his stomach felt empty and his fingers felt numb. Instinctively he rounded the building, only to find her riding off toward the inn. Dusk was approaching, and Noah flitted westward, hidden within the thicket of bushes and trees scattered across town. The inn was but four or five hundred yards away, and he watched her fall off the horse and stroll into the inn he wasn't allowed in, in his current state. But he didn't fret; it was written in his job description to wait for his prey.

Only what felt like a handful of minutes had passed before she stepped out from the back with Lorraine, the innkeeper's daughter. She recognized him as a thief, and therefore didn't allow him inside without a disguise. She led the girl he was watching to the stables, before leaving her alone with her horse. He was exceptionally lightfooted from years of being a dancer, and there was an incredibly low probability of her having detected him already. As Lorraine strolled back inside, Noah watched the young woman with her mare, and waited several moments before approaching her, to assure Lorraine wouldn't charge back out and chase him away. He grinned as she twirled around, gasping quietly in surprise, her eyes widened. "Hello, Gwen," he greeted softly.

Sock, Gwen isn't under her man-disguise currently. It sounded like you portrayed her as such. She's dressed as a woman now, and her hair is much longer than before so that she can stay undiscovered. Other than that, you're good. And I'll post later...I have to finish a paper first.

Alright, I'll fix it

~Asele~

Asele frowned at the woodwork in front of her, giving it a disapproving look. Somehow, the supplier's stock had become infested with woodworms, ruining most of the wood supply at their shipyard. The musty smell of damp salty wood filled the air, and Asele took a deep breath before surveying the pile of useless material. She silently cursed Shale, another of the shipwright apprentices, for his apparent inability to check stock before taking it back.

Really, he should have been given the job of sorting the ruined wood from the salvageable. But no, this honourable task had been delegated to Asele. She glared again, then peered out of the storehouse window mournfully. Today was a beautiful day, with barely a cloud in the sky and a pleasantly warm breeze drifting along the port. A few boats had come in today, she mused, eyes lingering on each of the newly docked ships. She paused mid-thought at the last ship, a flicker of a memory passing through her mind. It definately looked familiar... She craned her neck to see the name of the ship. The Carzel. Hang on. Wasn't that...?

Abandoning the wood pile, she left the building at a half-run. At the first person she saw, she stopped. "Do you remember who that ship belonged to?" she asked, pointing to the Carzel, and realised only at the last minute her mistake. Shale turned with a confused expression, and gave the ship a thoughtful stare. "A... soldier?" he attempted finally, shrugging slightly. Asele raised an eyebrow. "What did he look like?" she pressed, determined to find out if it really was the right ship.

Shale paused. Just then, the temple bells began to ring, and looking up, Asele began to silently count the rings. Three rings. Was it really that late?

"Nevermind," she muttered to Shale, running back to the woodstore to grab her bag before sprinting back past him. I'm late, I'm late, she thought anxiously. This was the third time in a row she'd been late for the reading sessions, something she wasn't proud to admit. How was she going to be able to travel the world if she couldn't even read?

Fifteen minutes later, she'd finally arrived at Marlon's house, completely out of breath. There appeared to be quite a few people there - Mrs Goose, as expected; Talon, which was a nice surprise, and that silly bigoted kid. She waved enthusiatically at Marlon, attempting to regain her breath slightly.

"Sorry I'm late, again," Asele apologised, sending him a weak smile. She noted the envelope in his hands and fiercely resisted the urge to ask what was in it; several months of studying with Marlon had taught her that he didn't respond well, if at all, to enquiries into his personal life.

He nodded shortly, gesturing to the small crowd around him. "As you can see, it's been quite an eventful morning. There's no problem."

"Asele, perhaps it would be better if you waited in the parlor for a few minutes. This business will be resolved shortly," Marlon said. Asele left the room and Marlon turned his attention back to the envelope. Marlon opened the envelope and began to read the letter.

Dear Mr. Grey,

I apologize for not being able to bring my son to you in person, the reason for this will soon be evident. My name is Stefan Edwards and I am the leader of the Magical Merchants Guild. The guild has become quite wealthy and successful, but in doing so we have made ourselves a few enemies. I fear that some of these enemies may try to use my son as leverage. I am sending my son to you, alone, in the hopes that he will escape notice and reach Haven in safety.

If you will protect him and keep him safe in Haven until someone comes to pick him up. I expect it will take at least three months. In return for his safety, I will give you ten thousand royals, five thousand of which are in a chest that Elijah is carrying. The other five thousand will be paid when I pick him up. The password will be Apple.

Sincerely,
Stefan Edwards

The letter was short, cryptic, and arrogant. Not only did he have the gall to assume he would take the job, but he also said absolutely nothing about who Marlon was supposed to protect him from.

Of course he would have to take the job. If bounty hunters were going after the boy, they would look for Marlon first, whether he was there or not. Marlon didn't like to face danger, but if he had no choice, he'd rather get paid for it.

"Have you read this letter?" Marlon asked.

"No, sir."

"You should," Marlon said, putting the letter in his hand. He turned to Talon.

"Talon, do you have any plans for the next couple months?"

"No, what did you have in mind?"

"I need to turn this place into a fortress, without making it look like one. This guy is a kidnap risk, he may even have a price on his head. His Dad wants me to keep him safe until he can come get him."

"Split profits 50-50?"

"Done. MRS. ASHBURY!" Marlon called. She appeared a few moments later.

"This man will be staying with us for a couple of months. His name is Elijah Edwards and he is wanted by a lot of bad people. Can you make a room for him on the third floor?" Marlon asked.

"Good heavens!" she said, before going up the stairs to work. Marlon turned to look at Elijah. He was frozen in place. His hands gripped the letter, a look of fear had crept over his face. Marlon recognized the look.

"Oh no! Don't you dare!" Marlon said. It was too late. A moment later, Eli was bent over on the floor, vomiting.

Elijah

He couldn't help it. Something in him just made him let go. He didn't even feel bad that he was getting sick right in this man's home.

"No," Eli groaned, clutching his stomach.

Marlon looked like he was about to murder Eli right there. Elijah, stood up as much as possible.

"You're not needed to assist me," he replied. "I am going to ask you to ignore my fathers letter."

"What are you talking about? Are you an idiot?" Marlon growled, annoyed and unsympathetic of the situation.

"Fortunately, I've been blessed with a working mind, thank you," Eli said, some of his old attitude returning. "And I will not allow you to watch over me like some sort of a...parent. I will just be leaving, sir. I was never here."

Marlon blinked once and then again, bemused. "You do realize that this trouble you're in is serious, right? It's not a little game that you can just start over."

Elijah turned a delicate shade of green and took a deep breath to calm himself. Of course the boy knew he was in trouble! This ended his old life. He couldn't just do as he pleased. He was lucky he had made it to Haven safely.

Oh what would his mother say, he thought. Eli wasn't sure he wanted to know, but he would be safe with her. She would risk her safety to keep him safe, he was sure. She was a great healer, so it wasn't as if she was weak. But could he do that?

No, Eli thought grimacing, I'm not going to go running to my mother, like some little child who has just woke from a nightmare.

"Yes," Eli responded. "And I think I've had enough trouble for the day, so if you'll excuse me-"

He waved his hand at the man to escort him out and away from this horrible place. He disliked this man more and more by the minute.

"You're not going anywhere," Mr. Grey replied. "I'm getting paid for this and I'm not even sure it's going to be enough if I'm going to have to babysit you. I'll probably ask your father for more once he picks you up in three months. So just follow Asele to your room before I make you."

Elijah ignored the insult. He wasn't going to stay here. Especially when no one, iuncluding himself, wanted him to stay at this place. He would leave in the middle of the night. Let's see Mr. Grey stop him then.

And he would take the money.

Gwendolen

The woman, Lorraine, had been quite kind and allowed Gwendolen to keep her horse in the stables for a low price. Gwendolen was making sure her mare was situated properly, and the wagon stowed where curious eyes wouldn’t be tempted to search it, when she heard a noise behind her.

It was barely audible, the kind of noise only a criminal could distinguish. Gwen’s thoughts flashed to a man from long ago. Wispy dark hair falling over warm, grey eyes. The smile, the familiar warm breath on her forehead.

She should have been thinking about him the one she had recently left behind. But he had betrayed her, left her to wait on that dark stone wall, let her be driven from the city. Instead she thought of the one she had betrayed.

Gwen spun around to face the person, gasping in surprise – or elation – at what she saw. Noah

Noah smiled, his eyes grinning. “Hello, Gwen,” he said softly.

“Noah,” she said breathlessly. She quickly recovered herself, calming her racing heart. This was no time to be tangling herself with a criminal again. No matter their past, no matter what connection they had possessed before. “You recognized me.”

He nodded, taking a step closer. “How could I not?” he said. “Of course, the hair is longer, and you seem to have donned some appropriate clothing for your gender, but there’s no mistaking those eyes, Gwen. Never in all my years have I seen eyes as green as yours.”

Gwen fought back the blush she felt creeping up onto her cheeks. “What brings you here?” she asked. “When I left yo-” She stopped, catching herself. “When I last saw you, it was many miles from here.”

Noah leaned against the stall Gwen’s horse was in. “I could be asking you the same thing, you know. I thought you vowed never to cross the Diamond River?”

“Yes, well I felt it was an appropriate time for a change of scenery,” Gwen said. “I’ve turned over a new leaf. I’m leading a new life.”

Noah raised an eyebrow. “Really?” he asked. He moved quickly, without giving Gwen any time to stop him, and lifted up her skirts. Gwen’s precious dagger was left revealed on her bare, white leg. Noah laughed and let her skirts fall again. “Now, mind telling me why you are really here?”

Gwendolen sighed and took a step away from Noah. “My,” she paused. The dangerous pause, there was nothing more dangerous to a liar than an uncertain pause. “My husband just recently passed away. I-I couldn’t bear to stay around there anymore.” She let a sob catch in her throat, hoping to deceive one person who was a better liar than herself. “So I came here, to forget.”

“A woman like you,” Noah said, turning Gwen to face him, “married?”

Gwen smiled weakly. “I know, but love can do strange things. It was very nice to see you, Noah. Please, I must go now.” She walked from the stable as fast as she could, cursing herself for the uncertain pause and cursing Noah for keeping her from retrieving a few of her other belongings.

She ran straight through the inn, and straight into Lorraine. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Lorraine said, apologizing even though it wasn’t her fault. Gwen smiled at her, and told her “no, my fault really.” Though, she had the urge to pull her dagger on the girl. She was so innocent, so willing to please. Those qualities got a person into trouble.

It was really too bad that Gwendolen needed Lorraine alive, and on her side.

“Miss Lorraine,” Gwen said. “How would a new lady in town go about making herself known? In a positive light, preferably. I’ll not have my new neighbors looking down on me!” She laughed, trying to appear as lighthearted as she could.

Lorraine Ashford

"How would a new lady in town go about making herself known? In a positive light, preferably. I’ll not have my new neighbors looking down on me!”

When Miss Gwendolen laughed, Lorraine knew Miss Gwendolen wasn't happy. She bit her lower lip. She'd just have to answer this question right.

But...how *did* ladies go about making themselves known in a positive light? If it was just known that would be easy - all she had to do was flirt around. But if she wanted to be respectable she'd need help. Outside help from an equally respectable gentleman. Someone like Marlon Grey.

"I'm afraid the best way to become respectable is to ask Mr. Grey to introduce you around town," Lorraine said, fidgeting. She wasn't sure if this was the answer Miss Gwendolen wanted. Lorraine's eyes brightened. Maybe she could help Miss Gwendolen after all. "I'm sure I can introduce you to him. He lives in a mansion just on the outskirts of town. He's a nice man, and he'd be happy to help you, I'm sure."

Miss Gwendolen mulled it over for a moment.

Without waiting, Lorraine continued, "I'll go ask Dirk to watch the inn for a while. It won't take too long for me to escort you there. You don't want to go alone, because the women in town begin to wonder if you walk about alone. I'll be just a moment."

Lorraine was quick. She went upstairs and found her brother goofing off with one of the guests. She smiled at them and the guest waved at her.

"Lorraine! How are you?"

"Wonderful, thank you for asking. I hope you're well too." Lorraine turned to her brother's impish grin. "Dirk, I've got something to do in town. I'll be going with one of the guests. Take care of the inn and father, won't you?"

Dirk nodded lazily and gave her a thumbs-up.

And before Miss Gwen could even protest, Lorraine had already gone out the door, smiling in the bright sunlight.

~Asele~

Asele listened againt the door curiously, wondering what Elijah was doing back in Haven. Last she'd seen of him he was setting off on a worldwide adventure with his father, or so he'd proclaimed. And now he needed protection? Sounded about right, Asele considered, deciding she'd probably beat him up if she ever got the chance. Well, not now he was under Marlon's protection, but the idea was still pretty appealing.

"...so just follow Asele to your room..." At the mention of her name, Asele sprang away from the doorframe, turning to examine a bookshelf with an innocent expression. She turned back as the door was opened, an eyebrow raised curiously. "Yes?" she queried, despite already knowing what was to be asked of her.

"Please could you assist this man upstairs? If you would follow Mrs. Ashbury I believe you will find his room."

Asele nodded briefly, gesturing to Elijah then making her way up the stairs. The boy followed defiantly, an arrogant expression on his face. As they reached the room that Mrs. Ashbury was busy carrying sheets into, Asele stopped. "I guess this is your room then." She paused for a moment then - "Why are you here, anyway?"

Elijah waved a hand dismissively. "You wouldn't understand."

Asele glared, anger raising inside her. "What did you just say? You think just because I'm a commoner I don't understand anything?" Elijah simply smirked back.

There was a tense pause, then Asele narrowed her eyes, resisting the strong temptation to simply punch him in the face. "If you cause any trouble for Marlon, I am not afraid to drag you back here by the scruff of your neck. You might think you're invincible, but I'm fairly sure I'm not the only one who'd happily leave you to rot in a dark alleyway."

She glowered at him once more, weighing up the pros and cons of beating him up, then finally turned away, deciding it was best to respect Marlon's house if she wanted any chance of ever learning to read.

As she arrived back downstairs she saw Talon and Marlon chatting conspiratorially and she paused. "Is this a bad time for me to be here?"

[N.B: I'm not sure if this count as a 'dangling conversation', but I thought the post was already getting quite long...]