A Kind of Magic

Seven

"I really hope you won't regret this night, elf..." Peregrine muttered darkly, looking over his shoulder at the retreating Leodhais as he and Gilderoy walked towards the fire where the rest of the pack was gathered.

"What do you mean?" Gilderoy whispered, looking around too, torn between his urge to run after his friend, risking to offend the pack, and to keep a polite reserve and distance from the werewolves as Peregrine had advised.

"Unlike your friend, the pack is well versed in the politics of Silmarea," Peregrine said on a sigh, his words making Gilderoy look up at him in confusion.

"What do politics have to do with this?" he asked, his eyebrows drawing together in a pensive frown even as he waved his hand in the direction of the three girls who had already disappeared into one of the cottages lining the clearing.

"Later, dwarf," Peregrine said before he turned to the man who stood up from his place by the fire to shake hands with them.

"Your horses have already been attended to. Welcome, Peregrine. It's a pleasure to see you again. And you are not alone this time..." the man mused. "The news about King Alaric sending his adored elf on a quest for his lost heir have preceded you, of course. We just didn't realise that you, who always travelled alone, were involved, too."

The man motioned for them to sit at his side upon one of the tree trunks the pack used as benches, and following his example, the dragon shifter and the dwarf accepted plates filled with food from a woman who appeared next to them the moment they sat down.

Gilderoy inhaled deeply the inviting aroma rising from the cuts of what must have been a roast deer piled upon his plate-- he hadn't realised how hungry he was until this very moment-- while he cast a curious look in Peregrine's direction. The pack seemed to know his companion well; the dragon's plate, looking just as inviting as his, did not contain any meat.

Peregrine smiled at the werewolf. "Alaric asked me to guide his friends into The World Beyond The Stones and back, Wilbur, and knowing how very few of us here in Silmarea know the other world sufficiently to venture upon such a quest, I could not refuse."

The man nodded thoughtfully even as he filled two cups with wine and passed them to his guests, then continued asking questions throughout the meal, most of which Peregrine deflected with spotless diplomacy.

Gilderoy's eyes kept skipping between the cheerful members of the pack enjoying their evening meal and drink while talking over each other, and the cottage where Leodhais had vanished, in the hope of seeing him walking out again to join them by the fire, but his ears were trained on Peregrine and Wilbur's conversation, which revolved around the problems of the country and the werewolf territory in particular after the dragon shifter refused to talk about the king's private affairs. This would have been a more valuable lesson for Leodhais, Gilderoy thought, than whatever he was indulging in right now. The dwarf was beginning to wonder whether his friend, loyal, loving, and generous, but also light-hearted and trivial, unused to any kind of responsibility, would make a suitable king. Even Wilbur here, who was only an alpha of one of the many werewolf packs, seemed to be much more serious...

His eyes were just starting to close after the satisfying meal, his muscles, tense and aching after the days spent on horseback beginning to melt by the fire, the heat radiating from the dancing flames sending pleasant shivers through his whole body, when Wilbur's words addressed to his companion stirred him back to full consciousness.

"I know that you like sleeping outside by the fire, Peregrine, but you are not alone this time. Your friend might appreciate a bed."

Peregrine looked at Gilderoy. The humble and unassuming dwarf had been shivering with cold and fatigue the whole day, but he would never ask for a bed unless Peregrine offered it to him. "Thank you, Wilbur. If you can spare us two beds, we'll accept," he said, turning back to the werewolf.