Iris was quiet the next morning as she watched her father struggle to pull out his old suit of chainmail armor. It clinked lightly as Elliot walked it over and laid it face-up on his bed. The both of them surveyed it at the same time. From what Iris could tell, it was still it fairly good condition -mind for the dent in the kneecap, where a heavy weapon had once bludgeoned it inward. She realized that that strike had likely been the one that had hindered Elliot's ability to walk for the rest of his life.

Wiping his forehead, Elliot quickly grabbed his bedpost to steady his legs. He turned his head to his daughter and observed her. She indeed looked beautiful today -wearing a powder blue dress and soft white gloves.

"You know, you look just like your mother in that," he told her, trying to life her spirits. "Very, very beautiful indeed." Iris looked down at her long curls, picking absentmindedly at one of them and thanking him for his kind words. She felt far from pretty today -she felt exhausted and no amount of powder had been able to cover her red and swollen eyes.

He reached over and palmed her shoulder for a second. He began unclasping his armor and readying himself to try it on again for the first time in years. Iris watched as he slowly strapped it on, piece by piece. She'd tried to offer him help, but he continuously refused the assistance. He was indeed intent on doing this all himself -and he did do it all himself. Slowly, but surely, he fit his armor over his frame.

"Well?" Iris asked as he surveyed himself. "Does it still fit?"

"Well enough, I suppose," he grunted, shifting around a few pieces.

By the way it fit him, Iris could tell that he'd lost weight since the last time he'd put it on. She didn't point that out though -as it would have only stressed her father out more than he already was. Iris watched as he struggled to his closet and began rifling through it. A small while later, he pulled out a sword -still in its sheath from where he'd put it away many years before.

After a minute of adjusting it on his swordbelt, Elliot finally stood still, though he was still disgruntled at having to move around so much. "There's good news, you know," he said, trying to console the both of them.

"And that is?"

"I'm leaving tomorrow morning -not tonight," he told her. "I decided that last night. Of course, that means I'm going to have to make faster time when I get on my way. But still, I want to have dinner with you and Renna one last time. I need the rest, too... and so will Gretchen." Gretchen was their family mare, chestnut brown and still relatively young. The horse was a good one, being only slightly temperamental. In the back of her mind, Iris prayed that Gretchen wouldn't act up and injure her father even worse on the way to the camp.

The girl smiled a little at the prospect of having dinner with her father again. "That is good news."

Now, Iris watched as Elliot finally buckled the swordbelt around his waist. When it was secure, her father's fingers grazed over the hilt of his blade. Inwardly, Iris could hardly believe that the same hands that had wiped her tears had used this sword to kill people. After a moment of hesitation, Elliot grasped the handle and quickly yanked the sword out as if he were readying himself for a fight. A small cloud of dust came out with it, to his dismay.

"It's been too long," he murmured to no one in particular.

He used his other hand to rub the edge of the blade. After several moments, he frowned. "Such a dull sword, I'll have to sharpen it before I go to bed tonight."

Iris decided that she'd give him his privacy and left him to his grumbling. Turning the corner, the girl nearly ran right into her aunt -who just sat there, listening to Elliot from the hallway. After Iris managed to not plow over Renna, they met each other's eyes. In her aunt's gaze, Iris saw the exact same fear she'd felt since her father had made his announcement. After a moment, Renna just opened her arms. Iris fell into them immediately, and both of the women drew comfort from the embrace.

"What are we going to do?" Iris whispered.

"There's nothing we can do."

Now, Iris stepped out of the hug and Renna peeked into Elliot's bedroom. Iris almost refused to believe that her father was doomed to such a fate. There had to be something she could do -someone she could talk to that would rescind her father's draft note. "I'll save him," she mouthed, the promise not audible enough for her aunt to hear. "I'll find a way to save him. Somehow."

"I'm going to go in there," Renna spoke, drawing Iris from her thoughts.

Iris only nodded in response, watching silently as her aunt fluttered into her father's bedroom. As far as what Iris did, she wafted away. She left the house again, headed straight for her mother's orchard. She'd made it a habit of visiting there when she was faced with problems and today was no exception. In her gut, Iris somehow felt like that bench was where her mother's presence perhaps lingered the most.

This time, after reaching the spot, Iris did not sit down. Instead, she flung herself to knees afore it and laid her head down on its stony surface. She shut her eyes and clenched her fists so tightly that her knuckles drained themselves of all their color. Without looking, Iris slammed one of her hands to the ground again and again, indenting the dirt ever so lightly underneath..

It took a few minutes for the girl to compose herself. And when she did, she raised up her head and slowly opened her eyes. For a second, Iris saw the world through a haze -staring at her surroundings in a sort of dream-like state.

"What can I do?" she whispered. "What can I do?" she repeated after throwing her eyes skyward, almost beseeching the gods to answer her.

"What good are you?" she yelled to them. "What good are you if you just let all the good people die?" Iris threw her arms out. "How do I fix this? Tell me! All of you are supposed to be all-knowing and all-powerful, so tell me how to fix this." Her demands were unanswered, causing her to try a different approach. "He's all I have left. I beg you, don't take him from me. I'll do anything, I swear it." Again, no answer.

My, did Iris feel silly -of course the gods wouldn't answer her. They owed her nothing. After a moment, she awkwardly got to her feet, hoping neither her aunt nor her father had heard her carrying on outside.

It was then when she knew she'd have to figure this out by herself -without the help of some invisible, far-away figures. It was either figure it out or let her father die, after all. In any case, she'd have to be strong and brave if she was to make it through the nights to come. She'd have to be as courageous as her father to help pull her and her aunt through this madness unscathed. Iris quickly realized she'd have to do that either way.

She'd have to be strong to ensure that he lived... or she'd have to be strong too if there indeed was no way of saving him.

But there had to be a way.

----

It was late that night when Iris finally stopped walking and ranting and came back to eat with her family the cottage. Renna had already cooked dinner, and Iris had come in just as they were getting ready to come outside and fetch her. In all the time she'd been in the orchard, she'd found no answers. And the entire time she sat with them at dinner, she still found no answers, to great frustration. Time was ticking by too quickly, and before everyone knew it, supper was over.

"Thank you for dinner," Elliot said to Renna.

Now both her father and her aunt stood up and left the table. Iris expected her dad to go off again to finish preparing for his journey tomorrow, but he did not -not immediately, at least. Instead, he walked over to Iris and wrapped his arms around her. When Iris spun around to return it, her father ran a hand through her hair and buried his face into her neck.

"I love you so much," he softly told her. "I hope you never forget it."

A tear fell from Iris's eye. "I love you too."

After that, he left Iris and her aunt in silence. Neither of the women knew what to say to the other one. Iris only nodded in Renna's direction before walking from the room herself and heading for her bedroom. As she walked through the house, she stopped at a window. The sky was black now, and the moon was high in the sky. Time was up. This would be Elliot Gwenneth's last night at home.

She had failed him.

"Ah!" A yelp broke Iris from her lamenting.

She immediately headed in the direction of her father, bolting down the hallway with all speed. As she reached his bedroom door, things had already seemingly been sorted out, so she stalled. Whispers were all that emanated now from the room. Curious, Iris stared through the door crack to find her father sprawled on the floor and Renna knelt down at his side, saying something in his ear -though Iris did not catch what it was. She did hear the reply, however.

"I'm going to die," her father said.

Those four words struck Iris hard in the chest for a multitude of reasons. It was in that moment -that moment, right there, that the gods had answered her question. It was right then that Iris Gwenneth knew she could no longer cry, for the gods had called her to duty -had called her to act. It was time now to find her courage, for sacrifices were to be made. And now, Iris realized exactly what sacrifices were in order -what she had to do to save his life.

She was going to have to go in his place.

She was young and healthy and far more capable of going to war than he.

Perhaps the most frightening thing about that was the fact that she was going to have to pretend to be a man. She was going to have to don her father's armor and swing her father's sword. She'd have to answer the draft not and all the while, she could not get caught or she'd shame the Gwenneth name forever and most likely get hanged for her actions.

Iris took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She'd come back when he was asleep to retrieve the supplies. For now? There were other preparations to be made.

Iris rushed to her room and quickly locked the door behind her. Adrenaline slammed in her chest like a racing drum, pushing her forward toward her new fate. She used that rush to power her next actions, wanting to get it over with before she could even stop to think about what she was about to do. She could not risk losing her courage.

She found herself in her mirror less than a minute later, now brushing her hair. Its length spilled down over her waist and curled inward at the edge of her hipbones. She knew that men didn't have such shiny, long hair. Therefore, she pulled a pair of sharp sewing scissors from her drawer and tested them quickly. Her heart raced even harder as she lifted them to her locks. Judging the length, she closed the scissors and let the mass of her severed hair fall to the floor.

Iris stared hard at her new appearance, snakes coiling tightly in her belly at the difference. The now uneven haircut fell just short of her shoulders. For a moment, the girl hardly recognized herself in the mirror.

Yet still, she continued, taking the next hour to decently even out her work. And when she finished, it wasn't perfect -but it would do. Without so much as a word, she pulled her freshly cropped locks back into a band. After doing that, she picked up the main mass of hair from the floor and laid it on her dresser. And then? Gazing at her appearance on more time, Iris reached behind her and pulled off the necklace she wore for the first time in years.

She quickly wrapped the necklace around her tresses. She would leave this in the place of her father's sword.

"I must be crazy," she muttered to herself as she threw on a robe and covered her haircut with an old bonnet just in case her father was still awake. She didn't hear any noise, which was a good sign -but she wouldn't take any chances. Once she was dressed, she grabbed the hair and the pendant and went quietly on her way.

It was time to find her strength.

Iris stopped at her father's door, peeking and listening in before easing it open. Silent snores permeated the room, only comforting Iris slightly. On her tiptoes, she walked to his closet -very careful not to make any noise. Her heart surely thudded louder than her steps now, and Iris was surprised that the beat couldn't be heard throughout the entire house.

Now, Iris opened the closet, immediately finding her father's armor hanging up. It clinked a little as she pulled it down -causing her eyes to instantaneously shoot over to Elliot, who did not stir. Because the armor made various noises, Iris got it from the room as quickly as possible -not bothering to grab the sword just yet.

When she'd smuggled it safely out, she peeked back in. It was at that moment that she found the sword laying on the nightstand -oh gods. Iris cursed her luck under her breath before she walked right over to the blade and snatched it up, now replacing it with the items that she had prepared. Beside it was her father's draft note, which Iris grabbed as well.

And then, she left.

Iris grabbed the armor just outside and all but darted to the kitchen. Her eyes flicked across the room, and she took a breath of heavy relief when the coast was clear of both her aunt and her father. The first part -done. Now it was time for part two.

Iris hastily shed her clothes right down to her underthings. She bound her breasts tightly with an old bandage and pulled the chainmail over her torso. It was very large and very bulky on her small body, falling nearly to her knees -though Iris found that its size actually helped hide her female form even further. Just as swiftly, she latched on the rest of the metal armor pieces and pulled on her father's chain breeches. Gods, they were way too long for her. Why did her father have to be so tall? With a grimace, Iris rolled them up and stuffed the rest of the material into her boots when she donned them.

In the armor, she found that she now had the figure of a small man -even if she did look scrawny. For the former, she was thankful. She had feared whether or not she'd be able to hide her curves. Now, she was a tad more confident... but only a tad.

Lastly, Iris pulled on her father's helmet.

And just like that -she was ready to leave. Almost. Iris took about twenty minutes to pack a travel-satchel for the trip, putting as many necessities and rations in it as she could carry. She did her best to remember all her father had packed in his earlier that day.

Once she threw the pack over her shoulder, it was time to go. Iris leaned over their kitchen table and wrote a quick note.

For you, my father, it read.

And then, she snuck out the front door.

Once she was outside, she ran to the stables and woke Gretchen. The horse was a bit agitated that she'd been awoken, but still permitted Iris to tie her things to the saddle she wore. Iris wasn't at all sure if she'd done it right, but she figured she'd know soon enough. On that thought, Iris jumped on the mare, saying one last silent prayer before Gretchen galloped away from the place she'd always known...

...and into the night.