The closer they got to her family's estate, the more Rhiannon's skin crawled. A decade had passed, but the surroundings had barely changed and she was recognising landmarks. Seeing her parents again after all this time was not something she looked forward to. They hadn't exactly parted on good terms. If fleeing counted as parting. She'd run away, never to look back. And yet, here she was. About to return home.

Home. Such a useless word. It was meant to be somewhere you felt safe. Loved. She'd never felt at home anywhere. Always the odd one out. When she was younger, she may have wished for that elusive 'home', but by now she had given up on ever finding it. It wasn't for her.

"We should reach the Delen estate tomorrow." Sir Baudwin smiled next to her on the perch. For a moment she'd almost forgotten his existence, lost in her thoughts.

"Great." It was far from great, but at least she could look her parents in their eyes and tell them never to come looking for her again. This time she would disappear for good.

Sir Baudwin was watching her with a contemplative look and she stared straight ahead, worried he might see something in her eyes. She hadn't realised they were quite this close to her family estate, and suddenly panic was welling up from the depths of her very being. Feelings she'd clamped down for years were threatening to erupt from the pits where she'd buried them. 

I'm not a weak girl anymore. I don't care what they say. I don't care what they do. They can hurt me no more.

"You look like you're about to face the gaol, not your parents," Sir Baudwin commented, his voice careful as if he was treading lightly for fear of spooking her.

"Not much difference," she muttered, her voice as tight as her body felt. Knowing she would see them again tomorrow, every muscle had contracted and the scars on her back ached dully.

"I'll stay with you. If you want."

The soft words made her turn around to stare at the knight. His hazel eyes were watching her with an understanding she wasn't sure he had, but it made her eyes burn and she blinked rapidly to stave off any embarrassing tears. The Swamp Witch didn't cry.

"Why?"

He shrugged. "I don't know your history, but it's clear you don't want to see them. In a way, it's my fault you are. If you want a friendly face, I'm happy to stay."

Averting her gaze, she nodded. "Thank you."

"Family is hard." He didn't elaborate, but she appreciated the sentiment, even if she doubted he realised quite how hard they could be.

Keeping her eyes on the landscape passing them, she put her hand on his, holding the reins. Saying nothing, he shifted the reins to his other hand and grabbed her hand. Not tightly, she could easily pull back if she wanted to, but she enjoyed the feel of his warm hand enveloping hers. It felt safe. She didn't believe in feeling safe, but she allowed herself a moment of indulgence.

The tension was slowly leaving her shoulders, not fully, but enough to stop the dull ache so she could relax her posture. She sighed and closed her eyes.

"My stepfather and I never got along." She wasn't entirely sure why she was telling him, but it felt remarkably good to say the words out loud. And soon she would never see him again. "Our hostility culminated when he wanted to marry me off to one of his friends. A lord more than twice my age. I didn't want to. So I ran away."

"And you've been on your own since?"

Ignoring the question, she continued, "My stepfather wouldn't have it. They chased me down. A full hunting party, chasing me through the woods. The lord was the first to find me and he—" She choked as the memory of fingers digging into her flesh, tearing at her clothes burst forth. The foul stench of his breath close to her face. The pressure of Sir Baudwin's hand on hers brought her back, and she swallowed the knot in her throat.

"He wanted to assert his right to possess me as his future wife," she finished. "I... I hurt him and nearly escaped, but my stepfather caught me." She may have done more than hurt him. For all she knew, the lord might be dead. She hadn't stuck around to find out.

When she didn't immediately continue, Sir Baudwin stroked the inside of her palm with his thumb. It was oddly comforting. Still unable to look at him, she sighed. As difficult as it was to examine these memories, she felt better for having finally allowed them to see the light of day.

"He punished me. Rather severely." Had the lord died? Was that why her stepfather was so angry? Or had it only been because she dared defy him? She flinched as the crack of a whip reverberated in her mind. "But later I escaped again. That time they didn't catch me. Maybe they didn't bother. I think my stepfather washed his hands of me that night. Until now," she added bitterly.

The knight by her side remained quiet. She didn't blame him. It was a rather heavy load she had just dumped on him.

"I never realised what had happened," he finally said. "I heard of the Delens' daughter disappearing. We never knew why."

"Why would you?" She dared a glance, and he was looking more sombre than usual, his jaw set, his mouth in a grim line. "I'm sure it wasn't something they bragged about. I'm surprised it was well enough known that knights heard."

"Right." He let go of her hand to scratch his neck. "I must have heard it around somewhere. And a noble's daughter disappearing rarely goes unnoticed."

"I suppose." It made her wonder what her parents had said, if anything, to explain her absence.

"Where was your mother in all this?" The question surprised her, and she turned back to look at Sir Baudwin. He was regarding her solemnly. "You mentioned your stepfather."

"She was there. My mother isn't a bad person. Just weak." She couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice. Her mother loved her, she knew that. But she didn't love her enough to save her from the wrath of Lord Delen. He had hated her since the moment he married her mother, mere months after her father's passing. And the feeling was mutual.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that." He seemed so sincere, like he truly cared. It was touching, even if stupid. Caring for others brought nothing other than pain. She ought to know.

Not wanting to dwell on the chequered past of her family any longer, she gave him a lopsided smile. "What about you? Loving parents?"

He stared straight ahead for a moment, his brow furrowing. "No," he eventually said. "Not exactly."

When he offered nothing beyond that, she didn't push. She knew full well that there were times you didn't want to remember your past. It didn't even bother her she'd shared hers, because she felt better having spoken about it. While she wasn't exactly relaxed about returning home, she felt better than she had done.

"I do have a sister though," Sir Baudwin said, surprising her. "I think you'd like her."

She smiled wryly. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't exactly get along well with people."

"You seem to get along well enough with me." He winked, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Once you gave me a chance."

"You didn't exactly show up with the best of news," she muttered defensively.

He chuckled. That warm sound that made her feel warm and comforted. It was growing on her.

They reached the village of Dorn as dusk lay a shadowy blanket over the lands, the pine trees standing in stark relief against the waning sun on the horizon. When Sir Baudwin failed to secure two separate rooms again, she didn't bat an eye. It was their last night together, and they'd already spent one in the same room. What harm could a second night do?

The inn had a separate bathhouse, so after supper Rhiannon availed herself to it, enjoying scrubbing off the travel dust and washing her long hair. When she returned to their shared room, the knight had already undressed and was lying in his bed reading a book. She'd noticed that he had a couple in his bags, and would read nearly every evening before sleep. It was endearing in a way. She didn't know many people who would bring a book along on their travels.

"Have you always read a lot?" she asked as she pulled the sheets down on her bed.

He put a finger in the book to not lose his place, then looked at her over the rim. "Some. But I started reading more after my injury. The first couple of years I admittedly wallowed in self pity and spent my time reading rather than learning to cope with what I had."

She frowned, her eyes drifting to the shape of his legs beneath the covers. "It's not so bad. You're lucky you didn't lose it entirely."

"I am, but it's taken me time to accept it." He laughed self-deprecatingly. "I used to be a big, strapping knight. Suddenly, I was a shadow of my former self."

Refraining from pointing out that he was still a big, strapping knight, Rhiannon nodded. Accepting who you were, rather than who you thought you ought to be was never easy. "You seem in good shape," she said, trying not to sound too appreciative.

"These days I try to still train using whatever weapons I can. It's helped a lot." He grinned. "I'm not as bulky as I used to be, but I'm doing all right."

He certainly was. She looked away, refusing to blush. But he was quite a sight, lying in bed with the bedsheets down around his ribs, his sculpted chest visible below the book.

"How are you feeling?" The question surprised her, and she turned back to look at him. He was sitting up now, even more of him visible as the sheets had fallen down to his hips. By the Gods, that man had a beautiful body. Who cared about a bad leg? "About tomorrow," he clarified when she said nothing.

She pressed her lips together. For a moment, she'd forgotten about the next day. About meeting her parents again. About having to tell them she refused to be a pawn in their political games, and to never come looking for her again.

"I'm not looking forward to it," she admitted. It was an understatement. She dreaded it. There was a part of her that wanted to bolt in the opposite direction and disappear. Maybe she should. But she'd come this far, she might as well see them and say her piece. And as much as she hated it, she didn't want to get Sir Baudwin in trouble for failing to bring her back.

"What are your plans?" His eyes searched hers, and he seemed very keen to know her answer.

Frowning, she got into her bed as she considered his question. "I will explain that I won't marry the king, and that I don't want them to look for me again. Then I will leave."

"Back to the swamp?"

"Probably," she lied. No one could know where she was going. She didn't know herself yet, but if they thought she'd returned to the swamp, it would help. Maybe she could convince the elves to let her live somewhere remote in the Elven Lands. They rarely allowed humans inside, so she would be fairly safe.

"Do you like it there?"

"What's with all the questions?" she snapped, only to regret it a moment later. He was being nice, but her emotions were frayed and her temper short.

He smiled, as if he understood, which only made her feel even more like an ungrateful ogre. As much as she had never wanted to undertake this journey, he had made it bearable.

"Good night, Lady Rhiannon," he said, still smiling as he lay back down and pulled the covers up. She preferred them around his waist.

"Good night," she muttered.

But sleep would not claim her. She lay in her bed staring up at the ceiling, counting the wooden beams and creating potions in her head. Nothing helped. Anxious energy was flowing through her body, knowing what lay ahead. No! She didn't want to think about tomorrow. Wouldn't think about tomorrow. Closing her eyes, she listed the ingredients for a sleep draught, wishing she had them in her knapsack.

The soft snoring of Sir Baudwin didn't help. It was so unfair that he could fall asleep so easily, while she lay there filled with restless anxiety. She sat back up. This wouldn't do. She had to expel this feeling, get rid of the excess energy. Glancing over at the sleeping knight, she pulled her hand into a fist, letting the nails dig into her skin as she watched his chest rise and fall.

After tomorrow she would never see him again. It was surprising how quickly he'd grown on her. She usually kept people at arm's length, but this knight had somehow found a chink in her armour, and she couldn't pinpoint where she'd gone wrong. It mattered little. After tomorrow he would return to the capital, and she would disappear. For good this time.

~~~~~~