Auriel didn't appear in the clearing the following morning at sunrise to see her elf off, after he, with Gilderoy's help, staggered out of the cottage and succeeded to climb onto his white horse at third try.
Only Wilbur and Aryana were there to say goodbye to their guests.
"Safe travels," Wilbur said, shaking their hands.
Aryana hugged Peregrine fiercely, then, with a blush that suffused her cheeks like the shell-pink hue of the rising sun flooded the pearl-grey sky, didn't protest when Gilderoy wrapped her in his arms for a moment so brief that her father, talking to Peregrine who gave the dwarf an encouraging smile over the short man's head, hadn't noticed.
"Please pass by on your way back; we are just as impatient as the rest of the inhabitants of Silmarea to meet our future queen," Wilbur pressed.
"Thank you for your hospitality," Peregrine said noncommittally.
"Thank you, Wilbur," Leodhais chimed in quite a regal manner from his horse, his eyes caressing the cottage where he had spent the short night longingly.
It almost pained Gilderoy to think that he might miss Auriel, but he was reaching a conclusion that his friend, if he had really resolved to shoulder the responsibilities of a king, needed a lesson, and probably more than one. It seemed that he would have to learn a thing or two the hard way. Gilderoy sighed, and when he noticed that Aryana followed his look to Leodhais, then looked back at him questioningly, he shook his head and pressed her hand to his lips.
"Goodbye, fair Aryana, I hope we will meet again."
He mounted his pony while Aryana caressed the beast's head fondly. "I hope so too," she whispered into the brown pony's snow-white mane, giving Gilderoy a permission to dream, before she waved at Peregrine who observed the two with a bemused smile, then stepped behind her father, using him to shield herself from the travellers' view.
Wilbur shook his head at Peregrine as if apologising for his daughter's demure behaviour.
"Be patient, Wilbur. Everything will sort itself out," Peregrine said, then patted Shadow on his large black head, a signal for the animal to start walking towards the river.
They were well out the werewolves' earshot and sight when the dragon shifter stopped to talk to Leodhais.
"I understand that you didn't get much rest last night, elf, but that was your own wrong choice. We must hurry now unless you wish to repeat your... diplomatic act in the vampire land." Leodhais shuddered, frowned, and opened his mouth to argue, but Peregrine continued, ignoring him. "I would prefer to stop for the night in the centaur territory. The centaurs don't like to interact with anyone apart themselves, there's lesser risk of your..."
"Just... don't say anything else, dragon. Vampires are... cold, they are... dead. And centaurs are... are half horses, aren't they? What do you take me for?"
"I take you for someone who acts before he thinks and never considers the possible consequences of his actions. Now let us not waste any more time," Peregrine concluded, making Shadow turn away from Leodhais and urging him into a canter.
"What are you really trying to tell me, dragon?" Leodhais called, forcing his horse to keep pace with Peregrine's.
"Gilderoy?" Peregrine called, looking back, slowing down a little when he realised that Gilderoy's pony couldn't keep up.
"Of course, I'll explain," Gilderoy promised, making his steed move next to Leodhais' while he talked to his friend.
The elf's surprised 'Oh!' reaching him from behind made Peregrine laugh. There, the few months of worries and insecurities would help him grow up. The dragon shifter put his hand on top of his hat to prevent it from flying away, while he urged Shadow into a gallop with his other hand holding the reins. He needed to be alone for a while and think. Not only about the quest that lay ahead of them, but about the spark he had noticed between Gilderoy and Aryana... He needed to observe the dwarf more closely to see whether he was worthy of the wonderful girl. And if he was, Peregrine would do all that he could to persuade Wilbur to allow him to court her.
As they rushed onwards, the fast movement of the horse underneath him the only thing keeping him awake, Leodhais noticed how the forest thinned and the rustic werewolf settlements turned into walled towns, lone towers and even small castles in the land belonging to vampires. It wasn't until the night began to fall even as the trees around them started to thicken again, their shadows extinguishing the last light of the day precipitately, when they met the first inhabitants of the this part of the Black Forest. Leodhais was intrigued by the ethereal beauty he hadn't been expecting to see in them-- they all looked tall and elegantly slim, their pale skin creating a breathtaking contrast with the dark clothes they all wore. And the women who smiled at the group of travellers as they passed by possessed the sort of haunting, ethereal gorgeousness Leodhais had never seen...
"Don't. Even. Think. About. It." Peregrine's voice speaking directly into his ear made Leodhais jump; he hadn't noticed the dragon shifter's horse approaching his at all. "In an hour, we will be in the centaur territory, now stop ogling and ride faster!"
Leodhais opened his mouth to protest, to refuse to accept orders from the dragon but the annoying man was too far in front of him already, closely followed by Gilderoy, and deep at the bottom of his heart he knew, even though he would never admit it, that His Darkness was right. So he flashed a smile at the pale ladies looking up at him and pulled his hood lower over his eyes, reducing his field of vision and distraction to his horse's head and the backs of his companions growing smaller in front of him in the fast-thickening night.
As Peregrine had predicted, the centaurs didn't show up to greet them when they settled for the night, hours later, under a clump of ancient trees growing in the eaves of the Black Forest.
"That's Goblinica in front of us," Peregrine muttered around a mouthful of bread, his weather-worn face looking gentler, younger and happier in the warm, lively firelight.
A tree branch that Gilderoy added to the fire moments ago burst noisily, sending sparks flying into the night sky to join the stars. The dwarf inhaled deeply, the scents carried to them by the wind had changed-- gone was the heavy perfume of lush moss and grass, and fallen leaves, the smell making its way into his imagination was that of a sun-baked stone and scorched, infertile soil.
"You might understand the goblins better than either of us, Gilderoy," Peregrine mused, pulling him out of his reverie. "The goblins love their soil just like you dwarves, only they are miners rather than farmers. What you two must remember," he added, looking between the two friends sitting side by side across the fire from him," is that they are less loyal to the crown than the werewolves. Let us be careful while we are in their land and reveal as little as we can about our quest."
Leodhais simply nodded before he collapsed to sleep where he sat, so close to the fire that Gilderoy felt obliged to roll him over a couple of times to remove him into a safe distance from the flames' reach.
"Good night, Gilderoy," Peregrine muttered, making sure that the dwarf didn't need his help before he lay down too, wrapped in his black cloak, his motionless figure becoming the part of the surrounding night instantly.
"Good night, Peregrine," Gilderoy muttered, so exhausted by the many long days spent in the saddle that his thoughts didn't reach Aryana before they morphed into dreams about her.
To Leodhais, Goblinica felt vast, void, and depressing. Strange sadness and boredom seemed to creep over him from the low, tree-less mountains they rode across during the following two days, reducing their interactions with their inhabitants to those whom they met in the inns where they chose to spend the nights in this land of absent trees.
Leodhais didn't like this part of Alaric's kingdom where dwellings had not been built but rather carved into the omnipresent rock by bald, unattractive creatures dressed in ragged clothes, all at least a head shorter than Gilderoy, who observed the travellers with their tiny, black, accusing eyes despite Peregrine's spotless diplomacy, a country where women were somehow even uglier than men.
He shuddered at those recollections even as the hooves of his horse finally left the infinite stone and connected with a soft grass, the absence of the constant clatter making Leodhais feel momentarily deaf.
"Welcome to Draconia," Peregrine muttered. "If we don't waste time, we'll sleep in The Gate Inn tonight and walk through the standing stones tomorrow."
"So this is your home?" Gilderoy asked, his intelligent eyes filled with curiosity devouring their dark companion.
Peregrine groaned and pulled his hat lower over his eyes before turning Shadow away from the two and forcing him into a wild run.
"I said we shouldn't waste time," he called over his shoulder.
"Goodness gracious me, he is moody! And rude. And..."
Leodhais continued to list Peregrine's unappealing qualities while Gilderoy, already well used to the dragon shifter's mood swings and content to accept him just the way he was, urged his horse to follow Shadow.
"Hurry, Leodhais, let us reach Goon Brenn tonight," he called without turning back.