Beneath the Armor: An Elven Desire

Chapter 15

The next two days passed in a blur of routine, the sun rising with a golden glow that painted the horizon as Fay and the soldiers set out on their journey. Each dawn brought a chill to the air, but Fay felt a warmth growing within her—a flicker of acceptance among the men. As they trudged along the winding paths, she sensed their wary glances softening, even if some still hurled cruel jabs about her elven lineage. Yet, despite the barbs, she took comfort in the camaraderie that was slowly developing.

At dusk, they would halt their march, the shadows stretching long and the world around them fading into hues of indigo and violet. Fay relished these moments, bustling about the campsite with a sense of purpose. She gathered mushrooms, wild vegetables, and edible plants, her nimble fingers deftly identifying the treasures hidden beneath the underbrush. She did majority of the cooking, chopping vegetables and stirring pots over the fire, then settled in with them to listen to their stories. They shared tales of growing up, of the grand battles they had fought, and the friendships forged in the heat of conflict.

Fay took a particular interest whenever Drake was mentioned. It was clear that he held a respected place among the men, and she was eager to learn more about him. One evening, as they gathered around the campfire, Wyatt began recounting stories from their youth.

“Did you all know Drake and I lived outside the castle?” he started, drawing the attention of the group. “His parents were the blacksmiths who made the palace’s weapons.”

Some of the men leaned in, intrigued. Fay’s curiosity piqued even more; she hadn’t realized Drake came from such a background. Wyatt continued, his voice animated. “And there was this one time when he saved the king! We were just boys, mind you.”

“Yeah, tell that one!” someone urged, and the others chuckled.

Wyatt grinned and launched into the tale. “So, a group of three men decided they were going to rob the palace. They thought they could get away with it. But Drake and I was out late that night, just wandering around, and he overheard them trying to kidnap Riland! He didn’t even think twice. He grabbed a large rock and the biggest sword he could find from his parents’ forge.”

The soldiers laughed, imagining the young Drake wielding an oversized sword. “You should have seen him,” Wyatt continued, his eyes sparkling with the memory. “He charged in, yelling like a madman! He knocked one of the men out cold with that rock. The others took one look at him and ran for their lives!”

The group erupted into cheers and laughter, calling out Drake’s name in a playful chant. “Crowned the king’s bodyguard! That’s what he is!”

Fay listened, captivated by the story. The image of young Drake, so brave and fearless, was strikingly different from the reserved man she had come to know. It made her smile to think of him as a boy who would stand up against danger without hesitation. As the laughter died down, she turned to Drake, who had been listening quietly, a slight smile tugging at his lips despite his usual stoic demeanor. “Is it true?” she asked softly, curiosity shining in her eyes. “Did you really scare off those men?”

He looked at her, his expression contemplative. “It was a long time ago. Just a kid’s luck, really. I didn’t think—I just acted.”

“But that’s still impressive,” she insisted, her admiration genuine. “You protected your friend, and you’ve continued to do so ever since.”

Drake shrugged, “I guess it’s just what I was meant to do. Riland is… well, he’s like family to me.”

Among the soldiers, only Wyatt, Drax, and Drake engaged her in genuine conversation. They spoke to her not as an outsider, but as a companion. In quieter moments, she caught glimpses of them watching her. Always lurking nearby. She didn't mind the weird behaviour, sensing it had something to do with Drake's orders. But she felt safe.

At night, Fay curled up in a small cot tucked in the far corner of Drake’s tent, a space that felt both comforting and perplexing. She wondered why she didn’t have her own tent, but the thought drifted away as she inhaled the familiar scent of leather and smoke that clung to Drake. His presence brought her a sense of safety that she hadn’t realized she craved. The night’s stillness wrapped around her like a cloak, and as she lay there, she listened to the soft murmur of voices outside, her heart racing with a mix of anxiety and longing.

Yet, beneath the surface of their fragile harmony, an undercurrent of tension brewed. The looming silhouette of the dormant volcano and the steep, jagged mountains ahead served as a constant reminder of the dangers that lurked in the shadows. Just the day before, they had caught sight of the dragon—its massive form silhouetted against the fiery sunset, wings outstretched like dark sails against the twilight. The sight had stolen the breath from Fay’s lungs and ignited a primal fear within her.

She could sense it in the air, a thickening apprehension that hung over the group like a storm cloud. The men spoke in hushed tones, their laughter replaced by wary glances toward the mountains, where the dragon was said to dwell. Fay’s heart pounded in her chest, a steady drumbeat that echoed her unease. She realized that the acceptance she felt might be fleeting, easily shattered by the looming threat of the beast above.

As the fire crackled and the stars twinkled overhead, Fay closed her eyes, allowing herself a moment of vulnerability. She hoped that whatever lay ahead, they would come away from it alive. As tomorrow was the day they were expected to arrive.