The tavern Dandelion’s new companion had taken him to was loud and warm. “A horn of ale for my friend and I here, as well as a loaf of bread, a whole chicken, and a wheel of cheese!” The man’s smile was wide and seemed to be true.

Dandelion watched his companion. “Are you a halfling?” Dandelion’s question seemed to halt the man in his tracks. His blonde brows drew downwards and his mouth parted slightly. “Yes. My mother was a water nymph and my father was from France.” The man looked at the table, unwilling to meet Dandelion’s hard gaze. If he was human, he’d have given his name by now...

“So you’re a long way from home then?” The man nodded, flicking his too-blue eyes at Dandelion. “What about you? What are you hiding under that green cloak of yours?” A broken wing and a hide as pale as an elf. “Not much. As I said before, I’m on The Hunt.” Dandelion looked around the tavern, watching the people around them make merry.

“And who are you hunting?” The blonde man looked looked at Dandelion, his eyes suddenly soft. His voice had gone quiet, nearly a whisper. Dandelion looked around, his mouth pinched in a frown. “If you’ll give me something to call you, and if we can talk somewhere away from all these listening ears.” The blond nodded, looking around. He grinned and offered his hand.

“You can call me Goodwin, then.” Dandelion shook Goodwin’s hand, letting himself smile. “Call me, er…. Dan.” Goodwin nodded, his hair brushing his shoulders. A buxom serving maid brought a tray, laden with chicken, cheese and a loaf of bread, carrying two tankard of ale. She smiled at Goodwin.

“Goodwin!” She smiled down at him, leaning over to put his tankard in front of him, giving him view of her cleavage. “You’ve done well, Isolt.” Goodwin reached inside the small brown leather purse, strapped to his waist, fishing out a gold coin. “Take this.” Isolt smiled at Goodwin, kissing him on the cheek. She whispered something Dandelion couldn’t hear. Goodwin smiled, giving her backside a pinch and shaking his head.

The serving maid frowned, looking over at Dandelion, then back at Goodwin. “It was nice to see you. Come find me when you return and I’ll show you how to properly use your stick.” With a wink and a sway of her thick hips, Isolt left Dandelion and Goodwin to their meal.

“So I take it you’re quite popular with the ladies, I take it?” Dandelion steepled his hands, watching Goodwin tear into the soft white loaf, cutting himself a thick slice. “I suppose that happens when you’re good at shinty!” Goodwin’s voice was proud, and his eyes crinkled. Dandelion smiled, cutting his own trencher and putting a thick triangle of cheese on it with a chicken leg.

“Do you live here or do you travel around?” Dandelion asked before lifting his tankard and taking a gulp. He nearly spat it out, gagging at the foul taste. It’s been a while since i’ve tasted something so… rustic. Goodwin took a drink from the tankard at his side and bit into the cheese before answering.

“I travel around. There’s not much place for a halfling with barely pointed ears.” Of course not. Halflings aren’t rightly faeries. Why would they be welcomed? It makes sense that most of them are either solitary or Unseelie, trailtors though they may be. It was a few minutes before Goodwin touched either his food, or his ale. Dandelion’s gut felt like it was being filled with lead as he watched the man he’d cheered for only hours before deflate.

“That’s why I play shinty. It brings me joy when there isn’t much to be had.” Dandelion took a bite of cheese, chewing slowly before chasing it down with the cheap ale. Goodwin is lucky to be able to indulge in his passions. Lucky to have freedom…

“Well I say you’re a lucky sort, for a solitary faerie! Not everyone gets to indulge in things they love. Are you staying long? I heard that the summer royals are going to be coming by at the weeks end.” Goodwin smiled, tucking an errant piece of blonde hair behind his ear. He wouldn’t fit in in either world; His ears are too pointed, and his eyes are practically glowing, for the mortal realm, and few people here, so close to the palace, will accept the solitary faeries.

“I don’t know. It would be something to tell my grandchildren about, eh?” Dandelion laughed, nodding. I’ll be certain to tell my children about you as well.

They ate the rest of their food in silence. Dandelion watched as Goodwin caught the maid that had served them around the waist, kissing her long and hard, much to the chagrin and wilde whooping of the other tavern goers. Perhaps I’ll kiss Ashara like that when we meet again. Can a simple kiss convey how sorry I am, and how I aim to right past wrongs.

More importantly, will she let me?

Dandelion made his way to the door, waiting for Goodwin to finish making merry with his maiden. After a few moments, Goodwin walked past him, out the door, with a grin that rivaled the su itself. Dandelion jogged to catch up with him. “Does she really mean that much to you?” He asked, shielding his eyes from the bright orange of the evening sun.

Goodwin turned to him, continuing to walk. “Somehow I always find myself coming back here.” He paused, looking at Dandelion, as if for an answer. Dandelion shrugged. “I’ve never been outside of the place I grew up, so I can’t say I understand.” What’s new for me has been his entire life. Goodwin grinned at Dandelion.

“So The Hunt is the first time you’ve left your home?” Dandelion nodded. “Yes… My, uh, parents don’t like me leaving much. I’ve got a lot on my shoulders.”

“You must be happy about that, leaving I mean.”

“Ah… I suppose not having much responsibility for the time being is nice.” I hadn’t thought of it like that before. Maybe it’s alright if I take a bit of time for myself? To not have to look after Ashara, and to just be Dan for a few more days.

Dandelion’s felt relieved. It’s something I haven’t had the courage, the bravery, to admit, even to myself.

“So where are we going to make camp?” Goodwin hummed. After a moment he answered, “I thought it would be nice to lie under the stars as we slept. Have you ever been allowed to do that?” They shared a laugh. He isn’t so bad, for a halfling.

The fire crackled between Goodwin and Dandelion, each of them sitting on the grass outside the village. The village was just visible behind them, well away from prying eyes and ears.

“Is she your everything, Dan?” Dandelion looked at the blonde over the crackling orange flames. His long, proud nose and wide, scruffy jawline painted orange in the firelight, was serious. That must be how it works for people who aren’t royal… Finding someone who you…

“I care for her, if that’s what you mean,” Dandelion said, wondering if those were the right words.

“No. I mean, if you weren’t on The Hunt, would you still want to chase her down?”

Dandelion spoke without thinking. “Of course I would. It’s my duty.” Goodwin looked confused, his brow crinkling and a frown settle on his face. “Then I’d say you’re chasing the wrong girl, friend.” It’s about more than wrong or right! I have a duty to the Summer court!

“How can I know if it’s the right girl?” Dandelion watched Goodwin prop his arms on his knees and prop his head on his open hands. “You’ve never been in love, have you?” I… I do not love Ashara like a good betrothed should. Nay, she is more like a sister than a lover. The phuka… Are his constant jibs and trickery… are his… when we… No. I do not think I have ever loved the Phuka. Perhaps I was in awe of him, and enjoyed the physical aspect of what we shared, but nothing more.

“I do not think so.” Dandelion’s voice was soft, as though the realisation of his words were something he himself didn’t quite understand.

“Maybe you should find out what love is, before you dive head first in a bond only broken by death,” Goodwin said,laying down and turning around. Maybe I will find love with Ashara when we return with her pet in tow. Would she love me then? Would I find a way to see in her what her pet see’s?

Dandelion lay back on the grass and, after a while, pulled himself to sleep, the stars twinkling above him.

It was nighttime. Dandelion’s back ached, or more specifically, where his wings met flesh ached. “Does it hurt, cousin?” Dandelion turned to see Ashara with her eyes wide and her mouth in a small frown, lips slightly parted. He smiled. “No. Not too terribly.”

Ashara’s hand, pale in the darkness, reached out, trembling. Her fingers were soft against his bare back. Not that he’d been able to wear shirts for nearly two weeks. Slowly, as though she was afraid to hurt him, her fingers made their way towards the base of his wings. The little lumps had hardened, but were still sensitive.

“You won’t hurt them. The worst of the pain subsides after a week.” Dandelion’s voice was gentle, but firm. It wouldn’t help her to go into it unaware. They spoke so rarely…

Ashara’s fingers gilded upward, ghosting though the white feathers, slowing to marvelling at the softness. Dandelion slowed his breathing, trying not to flinch as Ashara’s fingers flitted over the thin, veiny, slightly green membrane of his developing wings.

“What was it like?” Ashara’s voice was quiet. Quiet and afraid.

I remember they hadn’t told her anything. I remember struggling with the choice of weather or not to tell her anything. To leave her in the dark of something so important in what was her new culture and home would be too cruel.

Ashara sighed, coming to wrap her arms around him. Her sobs were quiet, as though she was afraid someone would hear them. Her tears ran down his back. Dandelion could do nothing but put his hands over hers in a small gesture of comfort. If I could go back to this moment, I would tell her all of what my mother had planned for her. But I didn’t. I let her cry, and said nothing; I did nothing to stop her pain.