Grace quickly replaced the plank on the door to the workshop, making certain that Garrison would not be able to come back in that night. If he tried coming back in after the chaos he had wrought, Grace decided she would turn him away without hesitation. Surely, the plank against the door would not have been enough to keep out that mountain of a man, but Grace knew that Garrison had enough respect for Rod to not barge in and destroy the structural integrity of the workshop. The table he destroyed had only gotten that way because he did not expect Liam to seemingly vanish from his seat when Grace pulled him away. The swordswoman sighed with relief and exhaustion, her hands against the door. That was too close. He would've killed Liam for sure. If it weren't for Mallory... Her head shot up at the thought of the little girl who had thrown something at the beast and screamed at the top of her lungs. She turned around to spot her, thankfully unharmed, but what surprised her was the room full of smiling faces staring back at her. Are they really looking at me like that...?

"It's Grace the Gleeful, everyone!" she heard someone call out from the back.

She looked to see Jeremy, the guy who tried to take her out a while ago. Him again?

"Grace the Gleeful," he continued, "a victor against Garrison the Gargantuan!"

Grace's mouth fell open slightly. It had not dawned on her, but it seemed that, in a way, she actually had beaten the number one swordsman in the guild. She felt her face get hot as the men started to chant her name. A smile formed on her face as she pushed her hair back, and she caught a glimpse of Rod. She was so used to seeing those eyes with a drunken glaze that it just barely occurred to her that they were watering with pride. Seeing such a rare countenance from her father, she felt her own eyes sting a bit. The last time she had seen him look like that was when she was officially initiated as a member of the guild. Back then, she had beaten a swordsman who had only been in the guild for about a month, so the guild was not all that impressed by her victory. In this moment, though, she was finally able to show her worth to everyone who doubted her. They're noticing me, Dad. They're finally noticing me!

Before she had time to react, a few different handlers rushed up to her with job offers, pushing and shoving one another to grab her attention. She leaned back with a start upon their charge, the smile on her face shrinking to a puckered lip. "I had no idea you were a swordsman!" the first handler observed. "Well, I knew!" another one retorted. "Ya mean swordswoman!" a third handler corrected with a snicker.

"Hey, hey, now," Grace started, trying to calm the men down, "one at a time, okay?"

"That was truly amazing, Grace!" the first handler who approached her noted. He had thick sideburns and an extended jawline. "How ya just swooped in like that, to save a colored girl of all people! Selfless, and brave!"

Grace sighed out a nervous chuckle. Then, it occurred to her that in the excitement of receiving so much praise, the girl she had rushed in to save was no longer in the room, and neither was her master. "Wait," Grace said, trying to look past her fans, "where did they—"

"Shove off, will ya?" a handler butted in with an elbow at the first one's shoulder, getting right in front of Grace. "She don't need ya flattery. She need a job, ain't that right?"

The first one shouldered him back and replied with, "I got here first! You'll have to wait for the next time, slowpoke!"

As the handlers got more aggressive, she put her hands up in response and tried to get them to settle down. "Gentlemen, gentlemen!" she pleaded. Her eyes shifted back and forth at the mob, the men growing rowdier by the second, and she thought about how she could stop the commotion. They're not gonna stop until I pick one of them, I guess. I wonder if Daryl's ever been in this kind of situation. She turned to the one with the thick sideburns and said, "You, sir!"

The handler had grabbed the collar of the other man's shirt who had shoved him earlier, and he let it go in response to her call. He beamed and asked, "Yes, ma'am?"

She smiled back at him and said, "I'll take your job on first. The rest of ya will have to wait!"

There was a big groan from the rest of them while the one she chose laughed in his victory. The man who pushed him earlier scowled at him, but then softened up when he looked back at Grace. "Ma'am, hold on," he started with a gentle tone, "you're always cleanin' up around here, aren't ya?"

"Yeah, and?" Grace asked.

"How about, uh..." He looked around and saw the unconscious sorcerer and the thin trail of vomit that had spewed from his mouth onto the floor. His expression lifted and he offered, "How about I clean that up for ya? Will ya take my job, then?"

"Seriously?" she asked, her eyes getting huge at such an incredulous deal.

"C'mon!" the handler she chose complained. "She already picked me! No bribing!"

"Let her change her mind!" the other handler argued.

"Listen!" Grace ordered, getting the handlers' attention before they could start arguing again. She huffed and puffed with irritation, and then pointed at the guy she initially chose. "I'm taking his job first, but sir, if you really want me to take your job as well, I'll make it my second choice if ya clean that up."

The man clasped his hands together with ironic delight and exclaimed, "Yes, ma'am!" He looked around for something to clean it with, and then he approached Rod, asking for a towel.

"What if we help the redhead up over there?" one of them suggested, motioning to Liam and a friend of his. "Will ya take on our jobs next?"

Grace nodded, almost completely forgetting about the new ally. She looked over at him, sitting back against the wall sloppily with his mouth agape. If it were not for his being there, the chaos probably would have never ensued, but at the same time, she would have never got so much recognition. "Sure," she told the men.

They rushed over willingly to the drunk as the man before them returned with a large, brown towel and started wiping up the mess. One of them grabbed Liam under the arms while the other grabbed him by his ankles. Upon lifting him up, Liam started to toss his head back and forth irritably, clenching his teeth. The men grunted amidst his struggling and ordered him to hold still.

He continued to thrash around and groaned, "Ugh, I don't wanna go to my room, I wanna play..."

"Shut up, ya drunk!" one of the men demanded, smacking him on the side of the head.

Grace winced at the scene and looked back up at the handler who she chose first. He had been flattering her nonstop after the other handlers dispersed, but she barely caught a word of it watching Liam give the others a hard time. She gave the handler a sincere smile and interrupted, "Could ya hold that thought? I just wanna check up on my friend over there."

His eyebrows twitched into a frown for a split second, and then he smiled back and said, "Of course, ma'am."

"Thank you," she responded, walking over to Liam before the men could get any more aggressive with him. She grabbed his arm as they carried him in order to calm him down, and she said, "Liam, relax. Everything's alright now."

His eyes had been shut until he heard his heroine's voice. The misty, stone eyes came into view and they peered at Grace, standing over him with a gentle smirk at the corner of her mouth. "Oh, Grace," he swooned, a dreamy grin spreading over his inebriated countenance, "you saved me from that tree, didn't you?"

He's a tree now?Grace furrowed her brow, the men laying him across a table, and answered, "Yeah, I did. But he's not a tree, alright? He's your ally. You're gonna have to get along with him if you want us to help you out."

Liam ignored her stance on the man that tried to kill him and, with the men releasing their hold on him, he reached up to push back a few strands of her hair and caress her cheek.

Grace jerked back, her smirk vanishing. "Easy there..." she warned.

Liam chuckled and closed his eyes, looking like he was falling asleep. "Sweet Grace..."

She smiled at his last remark and stood up straight, watching as he seemed to doze off. Quite the first day he's had, huh?

"Ma'am, might I ask," one of the men started, "who is this fellow anyway? He seems to have a different guild symbol on the back of his cloak..."

"Whoever he is," a disgruntled Jeremy muttered, walking by the group towards the door out of the workshop and rubbing a red mark on his face, "I hope he's worth the trouble."

"Oh, you again!" Grace exclaimed, happy to see the man who got the room to start chanting for her. "You're...Jeremy! Thank you, for what you did."

"Don't mention it," he said, uncharacteristically cold.

Grace tilted her head back and looked at his pout as he continued walking away and rubbing his cheek. "Uh, what happened to your face?" she asked.

"I tripped," he answered. "I went out for some fresh air, there was a loose plank, and I fell on my face."

That's...such a lie. "Um, okay. I hope ya feel better."

"Yeah, thanks," he responded, looking to his left and motioning to some others talking amongst each other at the side of the room. "Hey Dad," he called, "let's get going. It's getting late."

The group followed Jeremy out of the workshop, his father asking, "What's your problem?"

From what Grace could tell with him being out of earshot, he gave his father a dismissive answer, and they shut the door behind them.

A sudden hand on Grace's shoulder from behind surprised her, and she turned to see her father chuckling, possibly because he felt her jump. "Didn't mean to startle ya," he began.

"Oh, hey," Grace greeted with relief. "Sorry about all this."

"No, I'm sorry," Rod responded. "I was knocked out cold the whole time. I shoulda been up to stop that guy earlier." He looked down at the scattered pieces of wood that remained from the table Garrison had smashed earlier, and then he turned his attention to the two men who had helped Liam onto the table. "About this man," he started, referring to Liam, "I plan to make an announcement about our new alliance with him some time later this week. Now can you two do me a favor and get workin' on that mess over there?"

They nodded reluctantly and answered, "Yes, sir." They went over and started picking up the scraps, careful not to splinter themselves.

"So," Rod said, turning back to his daughter and shifting his eyes down at Liam, "how'd he upset him, anyway?"

"Well, I let Garrison come in before he came out of your room," Grace explained, "and when he saw Garrison, he pointed at him and said something like, 'Whoa, what is that thing?'"

"And I take it Garrison didn't like that too much," Rod surmised.

"Not really, no," Grace responded with a stale look.

Rod chuckled and shook his head. "Didn't think the boy would lose his head like that. Guess we celebrated a little too hard, huh?"

Grace rolled her eyes. "I don't really blame him. I blame the guy who tried to kill everybody ten minutes ago. Maybe you should get him a leash?"

"Ah, he'll be fine," Rod said with a wave of his hand. "Besides, now I know you can keep him in check, too."

She glanced down for a second and smiled in response to his remark.

The room started to clear out, with several of the men going home for the night. One man caught sight of Liam's staff against the wall and picked it up. He examined it on either side and looked at his friend next to him and asked, "You know what this thing is?"

Like a bolt of lightning, Liam shot up from his dazed-like state, held a finger up and announced, "Only Grace may touch my staff!" He immediately plopped back down against the table.

Every head in the room turned in the sorcerer's direction, a lot of whom had no idea what staff he was referring to. Grace felt her whole face get red as she rushed over to take the staff from the man. She raised it upwards, showing the fleeting audience what he was talking about. There were a few "Oh's" and the men continued to exit. She shook off her ignominy and marched back over toward the delirious redhead.

Rod was laughing to himself the whole time, to which he received a glare from his daughter. He ended his chuckling with a final cackle and said, "Alright, alright, I'll leave you two alone then." Before he left for his quarters, he gave his daughter a nod and said, "I'm proud of you."

She allowed a smile back to her father in response as he walked away. There was the sound of someone clearing his throat behind her, and she turned to see the handler whose job she agreed to take sitting at the table behind the one with Liam, tapping his finger impatiently. Grace raised her eyebrows. "Oh, sorry!" She hurriedly took a seat across from the handler, setting Liam's staff against the bench she sat on, and started listening to his description.

Soon after the handler detailed the job for Grace, Liam shot back up again and called, "Oh hey, Daryl! Ya missed it! That freak almost killed me!"

"I know," she heard Daryl's voice reply, "you told me already."

Grace turned around hearing his voice. She smiled wide, feeling pleased that he got to see her getting a job. He grunted softly in response, most likely knowing exactly what she was thinking. Looks like ya can't call me lazy anymore, huh? In her excitement, she forgot about Mallory, the girl she had rushed in to save from the giant.

***

Grace's handler left shortly after she listened to what her new job would be, and Daryl came out of Rod's quarters with a brooding yet determined look on his face. "Come on, boy," Daryl ordered, smacking Liam on the crown of his head and waking him up from another drunken slumber. "Let's get you somewhere to sleep."

Liam grimaced and rubbed his head, finally hopping off of the table and getting to his feet. "Didn't have to hit me that hard..."

Grace took note of Daryl's expression, walking up to him as he and Liam were about to exit. "Hey," she started, "crazy night, right?"

"Just about every night we have with that mad man is," Daryl agreed.

"So, what were you and Rod talking about?" Grace asked.

"Ugh, I'm getting a massive headache..." Liam groaned, making his way to the door and fastening his staff to his side as the other two stopped for conversation. "I'll be out here, Daryl." He opened the door and closed it behind him.

Daryl was hesitant to answer her question, not sure how Grace would react to finding out what he did with Mallory. "We...talked about you. You've improved so much over the years. We're proud."

Grace jerked her head back in astonishment. A compliment?She chuckled and asked, "Sure, now what else did ya talk about?"

His gaze shifted away for a moment, that brooding look overcoming his expression once more. He tried to come up with an answer that was truthful, but not one that would make him have to bring up either Mallory or, potentially, his son. To answer the question, he came up with, "The future."

Grace narrowed her eyes at him, trying to read his expression and decipher his answer, and then she responded, "Oh, your apprentice! Where is she?"

Daryl sighed, annoyed that she asked that, but glad she did not ask anything about his previous apprentice. "She's...safe."

"Huh?" Grace asked, visibly exasperated with his vagueness. "Where is she, though?"

Daryl tilted his head up, ready for the outburst. "She's locked in my hideout."

Her eyes got huge and she leaned back. "What?" Grace yelled. "What are you talking about? Why?"

"Because," Daryl started, "she disobeyed me, and it almost got her killed."

"Well yeah, she almost got killed," Grace acknowledged, "but that doesn't mean you just lock her up!"

"She needs to learn a lesson," Daryl explained.

"How could you just leave her alone in that cramped space?" Grace asked, feeling more and more appalled by his coldness. "Hasn't she been through enough today?"

"She's been through more than you know," Daryl elaborated, "and one night by herself isn't going to kill her."

"Daryl you shouldn't—"

"That girl spent eight years fending for herself on the streets," Daryl interrupted.

Grace's eyes widened upon the reveal, her anger shrinking into a sad confusion. "Eight years...?"

"Her father got kidnapped," Daryl reminded her, "and her mother left them a long time ago. So yes, she's been on her own for eight years."

"But...she's still so young..." Having had both parents to raise her, it was hard for Grace to fathom the concept of a child being able to make it on her own for such a long time. She looked to the back of the workshop, wanting to see the girl for herself. "Daryl..."

"What?"

Grace looked up at him with concern. "I wanna make sure she's okay!"

"You can't," he responded. "It's like I said, she's being punished for her actions. If being alone in there really bothers her that much, then she'll learn to behave. It's as simple as that."

"Daryl, she doesn't deserve this. She saved me and Liam!"

Daryl began walking away, and responded with, "It doesn't matter how you see it. She's my apprentice, not yours."

"But why?" Grace asked desperately, following him closely. "Are you trying to keep from getting attached to her or something?"

Daryl stopped and shot her a glower that told her not to say anything else about his emotions, knowing exactly what she was getting at. She froze in response, a look of fear that he had scarcely seen from her. He softened his gaze and continued to march away.

"Wait." Grace hurried up to his side and grabbed his arm. He looked down to meet the tender gaze of her blue eyes. There was a much deeper concern in them, not just for Mallory, but for her longtime friend as well. "Are you..." Her fingers slid down to his elbow, feeling the smooth roughness of his dark skin, hardened by years of training. "Are you gonna be alright with her?"

Daryl took in the sympathy of her touch for a moment, remaining silent. You haven't changed much, have you, Grace?With a final look of reassurance, he pulled away from Grace and started heading out. "It's not going to be like last time," Daryl told her, opening the door to the outside, "so stop worrying. Mallory's going to be fine. Trust me."

Grace watched the swordsman stand at the doorway, his back to her as he made his declaration. Knowing he had gone through so much trauma in his life, it was impossible for her to stop worrying for him. She knew not to pry for more information about his son, it being too sensitive of a subject for him, but she wanted to be sure that nothing awful would happen between him and his new apprentice. The fact that Daryl locked her up on her first night of training just did not seem like a good sign to her, but she knew he had a point about it not being too much for Mallory. With that in mind, she wondered how Daryl was holding up in the midst of what he had just done. Grace started, "Yeah, but..."

Daryl looked back once more and saw the look on her face had not changed. He sighed, walking out and closing the door saying, "Good night, Grace."

With the door closed shut and Grace left alone, she finished her sentence, looking down to the floor, saying in a hushed tone, "...what about you?"

***