TW: very brief mention of rape and suicide in the middle of the chapter, not graphic

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Morana kept stealing glances at the trapped goblin girl. She didn't fight her bindings, just hung in Yeosang's grip and Hongjoong's shadows, looking miserable. Her hair dangled into her face and she bit her lip, but she didn't cry over those who had fallen.

Was she so resilient? Or was she at the wrong time at the wrong place?

Morana was so curious about her. She waited until they found a suitable spot to camp for the night, not risking to catch the attention of other wandering creatures. Hongjoong weaved a dome around them, blocking them from the senses of the orcs. Only after, he allowed them to make a fire and prepare dinner.

Morana didn't understand how they would be safe when she still heard and saw the surrounding forest, but her uncles seemed confident in Hongjoong's abilities, so she didn't make the mistake of questioning him. 

While the others engaged in conversation over their food and estimated the route to the elven town, Morana peered at the corner of their camp, where the goblin girl was tied to a splintered stump of wood that crudely peered from the ground. Her head had sunken onto her chest, but she didn't beg them for food or to be let go, just glad to survive.

Morana glimpsed back at the others. No one was watching her since Hongjoong would notice as soon as someone touched his barrier.

However, the second Morana stood, thinking herself so smooth and shrouded by the shadows, San's eyes flinched over to her. She stared back, challenging him to say something. 

He didn't. 

Huffing since he would monitor her no matter what, Morana turned. She wasn't a little brat anymore. She knew to stay in the safety zone, so his constant looming unnerved her. 

She made her way over to the goblin girl. Onyx watched over her and clicked his beak at Morana in greeting. When she crouched at a safe distance, some laughter around the fire drowned out the rustle of the ground.

Fascinated, Morana took the time to study their prisoner properly. Her ears were pointed, but didn't stand tall like Morana's. They drooped at the tip, creating an adorable curve. Her messily chopped hair was a dark brown and tangled with dirt, but Morana bet it would look beautiful if washed and brushed out.

When the other girl noticed her, her eyes opened. Nervous pools of a swampy green dashed left and right to find out whether she was in danger. San's grip left dark bruises on her skin and she was spindly thin, more so than the other goblins had been. Aside from that, she didn't seem hurt. Just fatigued. Hungry.

Morana could tell she examined her back. The white streak of her hair, the horns, and the twinkle of her eyes. There was something so similar, yet so foreign, about them.

"What is your name?" Morana asked, fascinated, since the girl understood. The orcs spoke a different language than the elves; she knew that much. How did this goblin child learn when all elves were gone? The other robbers hadn't spoken, just communicating in unintelligible grunts and shrieks.

Her voice was scratchy and quiet, terrified to alert the others. No malice passed her exhausted eyes, so Morana saw no need to call for someone, either. She could handle herself.

"I don't... I don't have a name," the goblin replied, hesitant as if nervous to admit that. 

Dumbfounded, Morana stared at her.

Why not? Morana had a name since she could think. Didn't the people around her provide one?

Unsure what to do with people who had no names since she only knew people with names, Morana played down her surprise. It might be a cultural custom, after all.

"Do you... do you want one? Elves have names," she suggested, unsure how deep her cultural connection went.

The goblin stared back at her with just as much shock. Both of them fumbled, awkward to understand each other in their unbalanced situation.

"I... Sure. A name would be nice," the girl replied, hesitant to enrage Morana. When the princess hummed, deep in thought, her frown became even more sinister on her features, so the goblin girl nervously didn't interrupt her with suggestions. As if Morana might have San kill her if she didn't comply with what Morana wanted.

For the first time, Morana realised how bad she was at giving out names.

Buddy was called Buddy because he was Yunho's buddy. 

Onyx got his name for the deep, black shine of his feathers.

And Sunny was Sunny since her fur was so golden and her grin so warm.

Morana rubbed her chin as if that might spawn more thoughts.

"Since we found you in the forest, how about... Thistle?"

Morana always thought how good of a name Mulberry was. So charming and tied to the forest. Something about this goblin girl suited these forests a lot.

"What is a thistle?" The girl asked, and Morana didn't have one to show her. Maybe on Yeosang, later.

"A flower," she just explained, and the girl nodded.

"I like it."

"Thistle it is," Morana beamed. She didn't know what her own name meant, but she never had the right two people there to clarify it to her. Thistle was simple and nice. Proud, she sunk into a more comfortable position before the other girl.

"Where are you from, Thistle, to have no name?"

Stunned since Morana was out for a regular conversation and didn't try to press her for answers she didn't have, Thistle also relaxed her tense form. Her dark eyes looked gentle, almost shy. They had to be her more elven side because they were nowhere as vicious as the glare of those highwaymen.

"I was born from an awful orc who ravished my emmya during the big rumbling... My dear, poor emmya... She ran away with my siblings and me, but... She... she was hanging from the ceiling. She could never give us names."

A chill shuddered down Morana's spine. The sorrow in Thistle's voice explained the loss Morana didn't understand from the words alone. 

At the same time, she resonated the same pain. Was open to share the hurt core of an elven child left alone without people of her kind.

"What about your siblings?" Thistle must have noticed Aodhán and Morana came from the same parent. 

Another sad shake of her head. Somehow, Morana knew she wasn't lying. As if she could feel it in the tremble of Thistle's soul, which was so much more genuine than words.

"We lost sight of each other. Everyone searched for food and shelter, but no elves were left who would take care of us or even think to take us in. Only those brutish orcs. I hid from them on the ground. Between the leaves. They were so scary and big."

Morana could picture it. She hadn't seen Thistle at first, too concealed in the dead surroundings with her matching skin and dirty hair.

"The other goblins found me and took me in so I could find food with them, but I didn't feel safe with them. I was so scared to die. They weren't like me. They were driven and vicious. I miss my emmya. Emmya was gentle," Thistle sobbed to herself, so lost in the agony of these lands.

Somehow, Morana made sense of all that. Of course, goblin children would be half-elven and seek unison as much as they enjoyed mayhem. If Thistle learned from her mother, she would lean into her elven side.

But who would trust a goblin to be kind? How could others not assume she would revert to the same brutality?

Lost, Morana sat before her on the earth. She wanted to believe Thistle. Morana knew her anger came from her demonic side, but she learned to reel it in and to be kind to both of her sides. 

Who said goblins couldn't do the same?

Thistle pulled herself from the trance of her memories. Her sorrowful eyes swiped over Morana's appearance once more.

"You are... You are a demon child. Did your mother also-" She began, but Morana cut right into the awful picture she painted.

"No!" A pause. Gathering her breath since she didn't mean to startle Thistle. "No, I- My emmya, he- He loved him. He loved my father."

Morana bit her lip. She didn't know where the confidence came from when she could never confirm those feelings. But her demon father left to be by himself because of the anguish of his heart after losing Seonghwa. He had to be genuine. 

Unless he found a new life and a new love and finding him would prove Morana wrong.

If that was the case, she might kill him. 

Befuddled as always when it was about her, Morana tried a smile. Thistle sniffled.

"I understand," she whispered. "I'm glad for you." Yet, Thistle was also painfully aware Morana didn't travel with either an elf or a demon. 

Gloomy, Morana was about to divert the topic to Thistle's survival in the forest when steps crunched on the dry branches behind her. Hongjoong was accompanied by Yeosang when they joined her side, but they didn't look angry with her. His magic swirled around the mage in constant movement as he studied the bound goblin.

"What are you doing over here, Morana? You can sit with us," Yeosang suggested, aware she would often retreat when too many people and too many voices assembled.

But Morana lifted her chin, not backing down even against the unpredictable gold of Hongjoong's eyes.

"I wanted to get to know Thistle."

"Thistle?" Yeosang echoed, sprouting the purple, thorned flowers across his shoulders subconsciously. Awed, the goblin girl stared up at him, finding beauty in the nature he carried.

"You know goblins aren't friends, right?" Hongjoong made sure not to be too cruel in his demands, but the challenge was clear. He would get rid of Thistle if she was of no use as a hostage or for information on other foes.

Stubborn when intimidated, Morana got to her feet to put herself between her new friend and the looming mage.

"She isn't evil! Thistle is elven. She can be like me."

Hongjoong cocked a brow at her. Thistle had sunken back into her misery, not expecting any good to come from this.

"Explain."

"She is also lost and without family. She doesn't want to hurt anyone. If goblins are half-elven, they are half-peaceful! And Thistle prefers peace. She was hiding, not attacking. Look how hungry she is. Can she look so hungry if she is stealing and killing?" Morana argued and Hongjoong looked surprised she actually had something of worth to say.

Yeosang had to chuckle at her claims.

"She sounds just like him."

Exasperated, Hongjoong sighed into his hand.

"That's the problem."

When he stepped around Morana, she tugged on his sleeve to hold him back, but Hongjoong merely crouched before the goblin girl. His gloved hand turned her chin to face him, and he studied the quiver of her eyes.

Whatever he was doing, he found clues.

"She's half wood elf. I can sense faint magic in her, so her mother must have been a healer," he shared with the other two.

Thistle's eyes widened.

"How did you know?" She gasped and Hongjoong stood with a grim smile.

"We should leave her here. She can take care of herself," he told Morana, but the girl had crossed her arms and stood with her feet firmly planted to the ground, imagining she wouldn't budge as if she could grow roots like Yeosang.

"I think she is a good person. I want to take her along."

"Goblins aren't the friends of anyone else. She will get in trouble," the mage reasoned, but Morana's eyes challenged him yet once more.

"We aren't going to any major town, are we? If we only wander the woods and the mountains, she might as well come along. Perhaps she can heal. Perhaps she can smell orcs nearby. She can be helpful."

Hongjoong scowled back at her, just as stubborn as she was. Morana knew he would win if he forced his way, but she didn't want to end a life needlessly.

Yeosang contemplated Morana and her new friend. 

"She is right," he told Hongjoong, and the mage hissed at him to be quiet. Still, the dryad grinned, not threatened by him.

"Thistle can come along if she stays under her hood. We will keep an eye on her, but she has to leave if people get sceptical. Do you understand that, Morana?" He offered and after all, Yeosang had always been the best uncle. When Morana nodded enthusiastically, Hongjoong groaned, suddenly ageing another ten years.

"Fine," he grumbled before he shot a warning look at the goblin girl. Her ropes fell apart, and she tumbled to the ground, too weak to hold herself up. Morana helped her to her feet and beamed at Hongjoong. He cast his face away.

"Just get some sleep already. We will reach the elven town tomorrow."

Giddy, Morana tugged Thistle along to share her soft furs with the trembling girl. Everyone would keep a watchful eye on her, but the goblin girl was tame, just grateful for Morana's mercy.