Work Text:
It’s day three in their journey through the Deadwood. Rations depleted, everyone near exhaustion and Mal has this odd click in his jaw that he’s making everyone listen to.
“No, but that’s weird, right?” Mal explains to Nia. “It didn't do that before and now it's doing it, listen again you’ll hear it this time, I swear.”
Tyril sighs. “Perhaps if you stopped talking so much and gave your mandible a break it wouldn't click.”
Nia, barely keeping her eyes open nods. “Perhaps you could ahhhh-” She yawns. “Apply some ice to It and let it relaaa-ah-x for a moment.”
“Maybe you need to pop it back into place, try stretching your jaw real wide.” Imtura suggests.
“That’s good! I'll try that!” Mal begins opening his mouth as wide as possible.
They come to a small clearing.
“Alright, I’m calling it, We’ll find the portal tomorrow. We have to set up camp.” Raine mutters, rubbing her temples.
“Is Ah-rin’s urn ah et uh ents.” Mal says, still stretching his jaw.
“I set up the tents last time!” Aerin protests.
“Nuh-uh! Tyril and I set up the majority of camp last time.” Imtura counters.
“Mmm. I can…help…with the…with the tents.” Nia offers, barely standing.
“No, Nia, you healed all of us from that encounter with the bat-babes.” Raine says. “You can take a nap.”
“Haaah- Thank you, Raine.”
“Bat babes?” Tyril questions, looking at Raine like she’s lost it.
“Yeah the..sucker…bat, drinker things.”
“The Fleshdrinkers, Raine?” Aerin corrects, incredulous.
“What! Their wings looked really soft!”
Imtura pulls a face. “Raine, come on, we all let the bug monster go, but you can't keep doing this.”
“Oh! Is this not a safe space suddenly?!”
Mal finally quits stretching. “To be clear there was no agreement to let the bug monster thing go, That was weird Raine, and I refuse to let you forget that.” He holds up a well-tanned finger towards Raine.
“The mermaid back on the island wouldn't treat me like this.” she crosses her arms over her chest.
“When did you meet a mermaid? Tyril leans even further forward, perfectly plucked brows reaching for his hairline.
Nia is falling asleep leaning on a tree.
“They made out infront of me, which was also very weird.” Mal adds, now holding both hands in front of him as if to push away the memory.
“She was sharing her culture with me, Mal !”
“You made out with a fish in front of me! We were on a paddle boat in the middle of the ocean, I couldn't go anywhere!”
“Okay! That’s offensive! She was only part fish and it was the bottom half, Mal!” Raine huffs. “She was very nice!”
“Hey, hey, Raine’s right about the mermaids, getting a kiss from them is like a seal of approval from the ocean herself.” Imtura swoops into Raine’s defence.
“Thank you!”
“And you don’t think the pirate woman is a biased party?” Aerin snipes.
“Ohhh spare me your withering tone, your highness .” Raine claps back. “If you haven't gone Dread Prince on everyone, it could have been you and I making out on a paddle boat!”
“I am still on the hypothetical paddleboat!” Mal shouts.
“In this instance you aren't!”
Aerin opens his mouth and Tyril claps a hand over it before he can speak.
“Alright, everyone calm down.” Tyril takes his hand from Aerin’s face and Aerin rolls his eyes. “We’re tired, we’re hungry, we’re lost in the deadwood. Let's all set up camp and get our spirits in order.”
“If you’d let me hold the map, we wouldn't be lost.” Imtura says under her breath.
“We are not lost! The deadwood is just big!” Mal barks, his hands flying up to show the vastness.
“Everyone quiet down!” Tyril warns. “Need I remind you the last time we were here, we drew the attention of the Drakna?”
Everyone aside from Nia whose face is pressed into a particularly jagged bit of tree bark shudders.
Mal takes a deep breath. “I hate to agree with Elf boy, but he’s right we should get set up, the priestess is gonna hit the ground soon if we don't get her a place to rest.”
Raine throws her hands up and starts to unpack. The rest of the group follows suit.
It’s a particularly humid day in the deadwood, and being near the lake doesn't help in the slightest.
Soon enough camp is set up and Imtura very gently guides Nia to her tent.
“How are we on rations, Tyril?”
They sit in a circle around the newly made fire. Tyril reaches for the rations bag and unties it. Inside, a single slab of dried meat.
“Ah…poor.”
“Probably because Mal insists on sneaking midnight snacks when he thinks we’re all asleep.” Aerin mutters.
“I knew you were faking!”
“Not like I wouldn't have woken up anyway with your jaw clicking like a broken windmill.”
“Then why didn't you back me up when I was concerned about it?”
“We’ve been walking for days , I needed some form of entertainment.”
“Seemed like you were plenty entertained walking behind Raine, Princeling.” Imtura scoffs.
Raine giggles.
Aerins mouth hangs open for a moment. “I..I was not- I would never…I respect Raine’s leadership I was not…ogling.”
He turns pink, and starts to tug at his collar eyes wandering around the forest overhang. As he does so he catches a whiff of himself. His nose scrunches.
“Ugh…it's been days since we’ve bathed, hasn't it?”
Imtura lifts her arm and bares her tusks in agreement.
Raine lifts the neck of her dress to her nose. “Eeew, we should probably get laundry in order.”
“There’s still the problem of sustenance.”
A chorus of groans.
“Okay, okay.” Raine sits up. “Imtura and Tyril, you two hunt for something to eat.”
Imtura nods and cracks her neck, groaning as she stands up. Tyril follows suit, slinging his bow over his shoulder.
“Mal, I need you to wash the dishes from last night.”
“You got it, boss lady.” Mal, hops up from his seated position.
“Aerin, you’re on laundry.”
“Wha- put Mal on laundry, I’ll do the dishes.”
“Absolutely not.” Tyril quips.
“Last time, Sneak over here forgot to hang them up and we all smelled musty for days.” Imtura informs.
“Can’t Nia do it when she wakes up?”
“Nah, Nia washes her own laundry.” Mal gathers up the dishes and cutlery.
“She doesn't trust any of us to get bloodstains out of temple silk.” Raine nods.
“Well, what are you going to do, Raine?” Aerin asks.
“Something between Jack and shit.” Raine offers with a non-committal hand gesture.
“How is that fair?”
Tyril and Imtura stand at the edge of the woods, still listening.
Raine starts to explain. “Firstly, I’m the chef; which you’ll come to understand is a blessing.” She counts on her fingers. “Second…If you recall, I just got out of a year long bloodletting coma and third, I don't want to.”
“I just got out of prison, I’d like to relax too!”
“You get three meals a day in Whitetower prison, Princeling, just wash the clothes.” Mal quips, carrying a bucket of water from the lake. Tyril waves a hand and cleanses the water.
Aerin rolls his eyes and stands up, dragging the overstuffed laundry bag and washboard to the nearby lake.
“We all wear the same things everyday, how are there so many clothes in here?”
Everyone looks at Raine.
“It’s not my fault everywhere we go someone offers me an outfit!”
Aerin flips the bag over his shoulder and nearly topples over.
“Does anyone have anything else they want washed, I’m only doing one.”
Imtura immediately begins stripping down to her underclothes, but leaving on her axe holsters.
Tyril undoes his vest, strips off his undershirt, and pulls his vest back on. “I’ve another pair of breeches in the bag, I'll keep these for now.”
Mal grabs a length of linen out of his pack and starts to peel off his scale mail and leggings, Imtura averts her gaze, Raine looks completely unphased and Tyril’s eyes seem to linger on the shorter man.
Aerin looks up to the sky, wondering if perhaps this was his punishment.
“What?” Mal asks, wrapping the bit of linen around his waist . “I don’t believe in underclothes, they inhibit my fast reflexes…with the pinching and the bunching, it's uncomfortable.”
Aerin sighs and holds the bag open for everyone to toss their discarded clothes into.
“He only wears the linen because of Nia.” Raine deadpans.
“She’s a lady, she shouldn't have to see that.”
Raine and Imtura give virtually no reaction.
“Alright, Me and Elfy over here will come back with a big score, prep your seasonings, Landrat.”
“Heard! Good luck!”
Aerin trudges off to the lake, wobbling under the weight of the bag.
Soon, it’s Raine and Mal in camp, with Nia lightly snoring in her tent.
“You were a little harsh on the princeling there.” Mal mentions, scrubbing a fork.
“He could use a little hard work.”
“Right, but you’re usually…” Mal tilts his head from side to side. “Soft on him.”
Raine leans back against the tree she’s sitting against and sighs.
“Well, maybe that’s over.”
“Orrrr.” The thief offers. “You’re mad at him.”
“Which is pretty warranted.”
“No one agrees with you on that more than me, but it’s odd for you.”
Raine runs her hands over her face. “I’m…still figuring things out with him.”
“You talk to him about it?”
“Briefly?”
“That’s a no then, ah?”
Raine nods.
“You alright?” Mal asks, switching to a plate.
“I’m trying to be, I just keep thinking about everything I’ve lost.”
Mal licks his lips, taking a deep breath.
“It wasn't the same without you, Kit.”
“I just…wish I’d been there to help.”
“I wish that too.”
“Now you're all…different, but I’m the same.”
“You are, but isn’t that sort of a good thing?” Mal offers. “You didn’t have to suffer, didn't have to watch us fall apart without you.”
“Do you think I'm not suffering?”
Mal bites the inside of his cheek, drying the plate. “Not in the same way we are.”
Raine pulls a face. “What does that mean?”
Mal begins to sense he’s misspoken. “Just that, I mean…we had to live this last year, you slept through it.”
Raine’s face scrunches. “My little brother is now the same age as me, Mal. I missed two of his birthdays. He turned twenty in the shadow realm, he turned twenty one while I was in a coma .”
“He was fine! We checked in on him…Well, Nia checked in on him.”
Raine stands and snatches a rope from her pack, she walks off toward the lake.
Mal shakes his head and returns to the dishes.
She finds Aerin scrubbing Tyril’s undershirt against the washboard in nothing but his underclothes.
“Well, If I knew you’d be joining me, I'd have dressed up for the occasion.”
She shrugs and begins tying the rope around two evenly distanced trees.
“You’re upset.”
“That’s what I keep hearing.” she deadpans.
Aerin pauses his washing, pondering what to say. “I understand.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“You know, I am capable of honesty, Raine.”
Raine holds out her hand for Tyril’s shirt, he hands it off to her.
“Why start now?”
“Hurtful, but fair.”
She tosses Tyril’s undershirt over the line and makes sure it's flattened out properly.
“What I meant was; I know what it's like to watch the world pass by while everything else changes around you.” He grabs one of her dresses from the bag and begins rinsing it in the water.
“You were eavesdropping.”
“Near constantly.”
“Hm.”
“I had a lot of time to think during my incarceration, thanks for that, by the by.”
“And pray tell, what did you ponder?” There’s a slight edge to her tone.
“Oh, the usual. Fratricide, the color of the sky, total world domination, a typical year in review.”
She exhales from her nose which becomes a slight chuckle. “Don’t make me laugh, I'm still mad at you.”
“Can you blame me for the attempt?”
“I guess not.”
“Last time we were here you were more…exuberant.”
“What a difference a year makes, Morella keeps trying to knock that out of me.”
The former prince starts to scrub the dress against the washboard.
“That’s a shame, I happened to like your talkative nature.”
“I don’t have much to talk about.”
“Neither do I, unless you’d like to know the number of bricks in my cell.”
“How many?” she turns to him.
“284 and a half, I triple checked.” he holds the dress out to her.
She exhales from her nose again, she takes the dress from his hand.
“I thought about you quite a bit.”
“Hm.”
“What I might have done differently.”
“Hm.”
“In the end, I realized that didn’t really matter.”
Raine nods, hanging up the dress.
“Conversations tend to work better when the other party responds, though I've gotten quite good at talking to myself. I’m told I'm quite the conversationalist.”
“And who told you that?”
“Me, of course.”
She exhales from her nose again. “Ha-damnit, can you knock it off with the one liners?”
“If I don’t do it at least twenty times a day, I'll combust.”
“Who told you that?”
“Me, of course.”
“When did you get funny?” Raine asks, placing her hands on her hips. “I remember you being all shy and virginal.”
Aerin smirks as he fishes Mal’s leggings out of the bag.
“Acting shy was a way to endear you to me, as for virginal…that can’t be helped.”
She laughs again.
“I’ll make as many jokes as I have to to get you to trust me again.”
“Interesting tactic.”
“Is it working?”
“That would be telling.”
“I…do regret hurting you, Raine.”
The air seems to tighten around them.
“I’m not who you have to apologise to.”
He hands her the leggings. “You’re one of many.”
“I don’t forgive you.”
“I would never ask you to.”
“You’d like me to.”
“More than anything.”
Silence settles between them as she hangs Mal's leggings.
“Will you be alright doing the rest?”
“I’ll manage.”
Raine nods, he watches as she returns to camp.
He runs his tongue over his teeth, exhales and goes back to the wash.
When she arrives back at camp, Nia has risen from her nap. Nia glances at Raine for a moment and frowns.
“Is everything alright, Raine?”
“I’m on a path that only goes up, Nia.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
Raine smiles softly at the priestess.
“I just missed my priestess.”
Nia opens her arms for a hug.
“I smell terrible.”
“You’re getting hugged anyway!”
Nia closes the gap between them and wraps her arms around her fearless leader, Raine hugs her back.
“You’re getting better.”
“Still not as good as Imtura, huh?”
Raine smiles and rests her head on the shorter woman’s shoulder.
“It's a very high bar.”
“What happened?”
“Im…having a bad day.”
“Mal told me.”
“Can I not have secrets?”
“Not with me!” Nia pats Raine’s back before letting go.
“Imtura and Tyril should be back soon.”
“Good! I'm starving.”
Raine moves closer to the fire and takes a seat on a nearby log.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Nia asks, sitting next to her.
“I would actually love to talk about anything else.”
“I can tell you about my trip to Parnassus?”
“That sounds wonderful.”
“Well, they had to find a new mayor since Tyril…left a vacancy there.”
Raine chuckles.
“So, they held an official election, one of Morella's first!”
“Very exciting, who was up for the vote?”
“No one you would know, but it was really nice seeing so many people gathered to make a change you know?”
Raine, just sits and listens.
“It felt good to see some positive change, to see so many people dedicated to making a change.”
“I have a feeling you’re going to turn this into a sermon.”
Nia giggles. “I’m working on it, but what I'm trying to say is…I know things don’t look great right now, but Morella is changing for the better.”
Nia takes Raine’s hand. Raine leans over to rest on Nia’s shoulder.
“You made a difference, Raine; you make the difference everyday.”
Raine rubs her cheek into Nia’s shoulder. “You’re so nice.”
“No, I'm just honest.” Nia rests her head against Raine’s.
“You have the best shoulder to lean on.”
“I’ll take my wins where I can.”
They sit and watch the fire for a while.
“GUESS WHO’S EATING GOOD TONIGHT!” Imtura bursts through the wood, carrying a three-eyed deer over her shoulder, still half naked.
There’s a holler from Mal’s tent. Tyril, covered in deer blood, emerges from the woods shortly after.
“I do not wish to talk about it.” He states, tight lipped.
“Need help cleaning it?” Aerin asks, returning from the lake wearing a slightly damp undershirt.
“What do you know about cleaning a deer?” Imtura asks, placing the deer on a nearby table.
“My brother was a trophy hunter.” Aerin says, rolling up his sleeves. “I dabbled in taxidermy.”
“Why don't you have any normal hobbies?” Mal asks, emerging from his tent still wrapped in his linen.
“It was either that or learn the crumhorn, and I can’t stand the sound of them.”
“Kade can play crumhorn.” Raine says, still perched on Nia’s shoulder.
“I need a bath...Immediately.” Tyril doesn't wait for a response as he heads to the lake.
“Need help?” Mal asks.
Tyril does not respond.
“Worth a shot.” Mal takes a seat, linen slipping a bit as he does.
“Argh!” Aerin makes a dramatic show of closing his eyes while Mal adjusts, no one else is phased.
Imtura chuckles and holds out a hunting knife to Aerin. “Can I trust you with this,Fancypants?”
Aerin gently takes the knife by the handle. “The nickname would be more clever if I were wearing any.”
Imtura takes a step back and appraises his attire. “Sorry about that, Chicken Legs.”
Raine and Nia snicker.
Aerin rolls his eyes and begins cleaning the deer carcass.
“What are you thinking for dinner, Kit?”
“I could do a leg roast.”
Imtura gives a pleased groan. “Are you gonna do that herb butter again?”
“No butter and we’re pretty low on herbs.”
“I can help you search for more when I’m done.” Aerin offers.
“You didn't sound so eager to help earlier.” Mal quips.
“I’m throwing your pants into the lake.” Aerin remarks.
Mal laughs.
“You guys up for a game?” Imtura asks, taking her place by the fire.
“Name it.” Nia nods.
“Alright how about…Bed, Wed, and Behead?” The orc suggests.
“Campfire classic!” Mal claps his hands.
“Who’s first?” Raine asks, sitting up from Nia’s shoulder.
“Who would we all know?” Imtura ponders.
Nia pipes up. “Arlan The third, Arlan the sixth, and Arlan the fourth!”
Aerin groans. “Could you pick anyone outside of my family tree, please?”
“Wed the Third, bed the Sixth, behead the Fourth.” Raine answers remarkably fast.
“You’d bed my grandfather!?”
“In all of the portraits I've seen of him, he’s got that dreamy look in his eyes.”
“He suffered from morbid hallucinations, Raine!”
“I was asked,I answered!”
“Hmm. Wed four, bed six, behead three.” Mal says with a nod.
Aerin gestures with knife in hand,exasperated.
“For me it’s Four, Six, then three.” says Nia.
“I agree with Nia.” Imtura says.
“Abstained.” Aerin mutters.
Raine goes next. “Duke Erthax, Duchess Xenia, aaaand Baron Vostrasz”
“My old colleagues!?” Aerin scoffs.
Imtura goes first. “Wed Xenia, bed Erthax, behead the Baron.”
Raine thinks for a moment. “Wed Erthax, bed Xenia, behead Vostrasz.”
“I second Raine, Xenia had a habit of killing her partners.” Aerin adds.
“Now you’re getting it!” Mal cheers.
“You’re right about beheading Vostrasz though; heinous prick.”
Raine giggles. “I feel like Erthax would be a decent husband.”
Aerin thinks for a moment. “If you like never speaking about yourself, sure.”
“Oh! Aerin you have to tell us all the juicy details about the shadow court!”
“They were a group of psychopathic narcissists in a death cult, I joined at eight and we didn't exactly chat.”
“You suggest someone then.” Mal challenges.
Aerin turns from his work at the table and leans back against it. “Hmm, Ventra Tal, Solerne, aaand Lord Valir.”
Imtura and Nia groan.
“Ohhh , it’s not so fun now, is it!?”
Mal clicks his tongue. “Wed Lord Valir, bed Ventra, behead Solerne.
“What are you doing with my father?” Tyril asks, drying his long hair with a newly cleaned linen, fully dressed.
“Nothing!” Mal smiles innocently.
“I’ve got to go with Mal on that one, it's the obvious choice.”
“Raine, That’s my mom!”
“Your mom is hot!”
“Never mind, I hate this game.” Imtura shakes her head.
“Which game?” Tyril asks.
“Wed, Bed, Behead!” Nia cheers.
Tyril gives a small smile. “Oh, King Arlan, Prince Baldur and Aerin.”
“Really!?”
Nia thinks it over. “Well, if you wedded Arlan, you’d become queen…so you’d have to marry him.”
“And obviously you’d have to behead Baldur.” Imtura adds.
Aerin gives a non-commital gesture with the hand holding the knife in agreement.
“That leaves Aerin.” Raine notes.
“We’ll leave that to you, Raine.” Tyril says with a teasing smirk.
Raine giggles to herself and casts a glance at Aerin…he goes pink and turns back to the table.
“I think that’s game.” Mal laughs.
“Who’s next to bathe?” Tyril asks.
“I’ll go, I smell like a bear.” Raine says, getting up from the log.
“You’re the prettiest bear in the woods, Raine.” Nia chirps.
Raine picks up the skirt of her dress and does a perfect impression of a bear growl while curtsying.
“Ooo, good one.” Imtura quips.
Raine smiles as she heads off to the lake. She stops just before the treeline. “Nia, can I use one of your good soaps?”
“In my pack, use the lavender one please, I like rose scent the best.”
“Heard!”
Raine stands at the edge of the bank, lifting her dress over her head and stepping out of her boots. She lets out a relieved sigh as the cool air tickles her skin. She strips bare and takes the first step into the lake, walking until her feet lift from the silt. Letting the water carry her.
The sun is setting and the lake glows. It’s quiet aside from the laughter coming from the woods. She takes another deep breath before dipping her head in the water.
When she returns she’s dressed in her clean night dress, the deer is prepped and the pot is warming over the fire.
“Thank you for doing laundry, Aerin.”
“Of course.” Aerin nods. “I think I'll head out next, I’m covered in deer.”
“Bergamot or Cinnamon?” Tyril offers.
“Bergamot, please.”
Tyril hands Aerin a bar of soap, Aerin grabs it gingerly trying his best to keep his soiled hands from Tyril’s clean ones.
Raine prepares what spices they do have and begins preparing dinner. One by one, each of the party returns from the lake, looking a little more refreshed.
“Oh, That smells amazing, Landrat!” Imtura cheers, dressed in a clean pair of breaches and her new 'poet shirt'.
“Just in time, It’s ready!”
Each member fixes themselves a plate. Tyril sits next to Mal against a fallen tree, while Imtura and Nia sit together on a stump. Aerin isn't sure where to go. Raine flicks her head to the spot next to her on her log. He offers a small relieved smile.
Imtura digs in immediately, getting a bit of gravy on her undershirt.
“Hey, I just washed that!” Aerin quips, holding a hand over his full mouth.
“And you’ll do it again, Fancypants.”
“These ones aren't even fancy.” He stretches out a leg showing off his plain black leggings.
“I’ll get it next time.”
Through the meal, they’re mostly quiet. Once finished Imtura says;
“Thanks for Dinner, Landrat; I'm gonna hit the hay.” The orc places her dishes into the wash basin.
“Goodnight!” Raine cheers.
“Don't let the fleas bite!” Mal says.
“Sweet dreams!” Says Nia.
“Bye.” Aerin waves.
Imtura retires to her tent.
“I think i'll follow her lead, hunting was…a challenge to say the least.” Tyril stands.
“What happe-” Raine begins
“I do not want to talk about it.” Tyril cuts her off.
“Need help?” Mal shouts after him.
Tyril laughs, but doesnt answer as he enters his tent.
“Worth a shot.” Mal shugs.
Mal looks at Nia, then between Aerin and Raine, then back at their tents.
Nia catches the glance and nods back at the thief.
“I think I'll head off to bed as well.” She very quickly puts her dishes away and enters her tent.
“Weeelll.” Mal stretches his shoulders. “If everybody’s doing it.”
Mal winks at the pair and leaves them alone.
“They need to work on subtlety.”
“From this group?” She holds her hand out to take his plate. “Not likely.”
“Thank you.” He hands her the plate and she places it in the basin.
“Tonight was…nice.”
“I’m glad.”
“Despite the relentless teasing, I mean.”
“In their defense you are incredibly fun to tease.” Raine holds out a hand to help him off the log.
He doesn't need it but he takes it anyway. “Yes, clearly I missed my calling as a jester.”
“We could get you a hat with the little bells.”
He smirks and starts to dust off his tunic.
“I always did look better in a hat.”
She pushes his shoulder playfully. He looks down at the ground and smiles.
“Your group is…surprisingly fun.”
“Our group.”
“Right.” His lip twitches at that, but she doesn't seem to notice.
“Thank you for playing along.”
“Always.” He looks up at her and meets her eye.
Raine doesn't recall him getting so close. Aerin doesn't remember his breathing getting so heavy.
Have his lips always looked so plush? Has her hair always looked so soft?
He lingers closer, she does too.
She’s about to close the distance when in the corner of her eye she sees a tent flap open, it’s only an inch or two, but she suddenly remembers how nosy their friends are.
Raine looks back at him and with a small gasp she says. “Goodnight, Prince Aer- er...Aerin.”
His eyes close and his shoulders sink.
“Yes…of course.” He offers a crooked and shaky smile.
She starts to walk away and he can’t stop himself, he grabs her hand and pulls her close raising his hand to cradle her cheek, he kisses her deeply, pouring every apology he’s thought up over the last week into it.
“Mhm!” Raine mumbles against his lips in surprise, but soon her eyes close and she places her hand on his chest, fingers curling into the thin fabric over his scar.
When they separate, he presses his forehead to hers.
“Good…goodnight, Raine.” he mumbles, eyes closed.
“Goodnight, Aerin.”
“S-sweet dreams.” He slowly drops his hand from her soft cheek as if it pains him to let go.
“You’ve assured that.” she retreats to her tent with a small wave.
He waves back and as she disappears. He grins to himself and claps his hands together softly.
"Atta' boy, princeling!" Mal shouts from his tent.
Aerins face drops. "I'm going to bed."