## Chapter 418 - The Last Mile

Ian was already beneath the trees when the remaining distance to the Wood Elf settlement became something to walk. There was perhaps a mile left. In another visit, that distance might scarcely have existed at all. He had appeared at doors, crossed impossible thresholds and treated geography with a freedom the people who lived here could not. This time he was on a forest path in black jeans, a plain black T-shirt and black army boots, with Lethira somewhere ahead of him.

The path did not resemble the maintained trails of an Earth woodland. Roots broader than paving stones pushed through dark soil and disappeared beneath moss. Some trunks rose almost straight for distances that made their upper branches difficult to separate from the canopy, while others divided low enough to form shelves and hollows large enough for a person to stand inside. Water showed itself intermittently: a narrow run between roots, damp stone, the faint dark shine of a stream farther downslope. Ian walked towards the settlement, looking for white among the green. The first few pale shapes were poor candidates. One was the underside of a curled leaf. Another was a patch of fungus growing from a fallen limb. Farther on, tiny white points covered a plant so low to the ground that taking one would have produced more stem than flower.

The forest eventually supplied something better beside a shallow wet hollow a little way off the worn centre of the path. Several flowers grew there among broad, dark leaves. Each stood on a slender green stem, the bloom small enough to fit comfortably between two fingers. Five rounded white petals curved slightly upward around a pale centre. They were not brilliantly white. In the filtered forest light they carried a faint grey-silver cast, especially near the edges, and the shallow cup of the flower caught what light reached it instead of disappearing into the shade. It was close to what Ian had been looking for. He picked one. The stem came free with a little resistance and a clean green scent from where it broke. The flower itself survived intact. Held against his black shirt, the pale petals looked brighter than they had among the leaves.

He returned to the path and continued towards Lethira's home with the flower in one hand. The settlement announced itself gradually. There was no wall. The forest did not stop and civilisation begin across one convenient line. The path simply became more deliberate. Mud had been diverted away from one low section with stones fitted into the edge. A broad root worn smooth by generations of feet carried faint old cut marks where somebody had once improved the footing. Higher up, a narrow timber span joined two trunks and vanished behind leaves before Ian could see where it led. Voices reached him from ahead, too distant for words. Somewhere wood struck wood several times in an irregular working rhythm. A moment later came the brief sound of laughter, then nothing but leaves and water again.

On his first evening with Lethira, she had taken him outward from those inhabited paths towards the inner stream and the rocky shelf near the ward line. He had seen the settlement becoming quieter behind them until the moon had room to appear overhead. Approaching from the other direction showed the same place from another side: a guarded settlement inside a forest where humans were admitted for particular reasons rather than by default.

The signs of habitation became clearer. A rope line had been fixed between two trees above the path, high enough that it was plainly not intended as a barrier. Farther in, part of a dwelling showed through the trunks before the angle hid it again. The immense central growth around which much of the settlement gathered was not yet visible as a whole, but the forest ahead had begun acquiring layers—ground path, raised walkway, platforms glimpsed between branches. Ian had not yet reached the busier interior when somebody stepped into the path ahead of him. The Wood Elf had been above ground a moment earlier. Ian had not seen where. One instant the way ahead was empty; the next an elf stood on a broad root at the side of the path and descended the last short distance with the easy balance Lethira's people tended to make look unremarkable.

She was unfamiliar to him. Her ash-green outer layer was cut for movement, with darker fitted clothing beneath it and a longbow riding across her back. Her hair was dark brown, tied close enough to keep it clear of the bowstring, and one long ear carried a small wooden bead near its tip. Nothing about her suggested ceremony or court duty. A narrow leather guard covered one forearm, and the quiet way she had appeared suggested long familiarity with the settlement approaches whether or not she belonged to the formal wardens. She saw the human first. Then his clothes. Then the white flower in his hand. Her expression became attentive.

The elf stepped fully onto the path, leaving several paces between them. Her bow remained on her back. One hand rested loosely near the strap across her chest while she looked at Ian again, with the careful assessment due to a human man walking alone towards a Wood Elf settlement without an obvious escort.

"You're inside the settlement approaches," she said. "Who are you, and who are you here to see?"

Ian was glad, and a little surprised, that the woman in front of him was not one of the wardens. He had been expecting them since the path began acquiring signs of deliberate settlement. They were presumably somewhere nearby. Wood Elves had repeatedly demonstrated that *nearby* and *visible* were unrelated concepts when they preferred them to be. For the moment, however, there was only the unfamiliar elf watching him from several paces away. Ian answered in English. What reached her was Elven. Not Common carrying his meaning across the gap, as he had used during his earlier visits. This time the external mechanism rendered his speech directly into her own language, fluent and precise enough that no human accent or uncertain grammar softened the strangeness of who was speaking it.

"My name is Ian. I am a..."

He paused.

"I'm a friend of Lethira Dawnleaf."

The effect was immediate. The elf's attention had already been careful. Now it sharpened for an entirely different reason. Her gaze moved briefly across his face, as though some visible explanation for the language might have appeared there since she first looked. It did not. She glanced at his clothing again, then at the white flower in his hand.

"Lethira Dawnleaf."

The name was plainly familiar. Whatever else Ian might be, he had at least chosen a person who existed and belonged here. The elf's hand moved away from the strap across her chest. Not much. Enough to suggest that the answer had reduced one category of concern while introducing several others.

"You speak—"

A soft sound came from the trees behind her. Not a birdcall. Too deliberate. She stopped. Ian saw movement above the path this time. Two figures crossed a narrow elevated route almost hidden among the leaves. One continued onward. The other descended, using a branch, a short platform and finally the broad side of a root with the effortless sequence of someone who had travelled the same route hundreds of times. A warden. Ian recognised him. Not by name; none had been exchanged. But the face belonged to one of the pair who had passed Ian and Lethira during their moonlit walk after their first date—the pair who had greeted Lethira, looked at the human linked through her arm, and then discovered an urgent professional interest in staring straight ahead. Their brief encounter had established little beyond the fact that this particular human had once been very visibly welcome beside Lethira.

The warden recognised Ian as well. His expression altered by approximately the amount Wood Elves seemed to consider sufficient for surprise. The unfamiliar elf looked towards him. "He says he is Ian. A friend of Dawnleaf." The warden's eyes moved to Ian. Then to the flower. Recognition acquired context it had not possessed during their previous meeting.

"I have seen him with her," he said.

That was apparently not the same thing as clearance. The warden came to stand beside the other elf, leaving the path open but making it considerably less plausible that Ian would simply continue along it unexamined. His bow remained across his back. He addressed Ian in Elven.

"I saw you with Dawnleaf before. Did she know you intended to enter by this path?"

"No, I just thought it would be a nice walk."

Ian held the flower up slightly.

"I also found a nice flower."

The warden looked at it. Ian frowned.

"The flower isn't a relic, is it?"

For the first time, the unfamiliar elf's careful expression failed completely. She laughed. It was brief and surprised, escaping before she could decide whether a human being questioned at the settlement approaches was meant to be funny. The warden beside her showed more discipline, although the movement at one corner of his mouth suggested that discipline was being asked to perform actual work.

"No," the woman said. "It is a flower."

Ian's concern had apparently required a fuller answer.

"It grows in damp shade. There are several patches along this side of the settlement."

The warden glanced towards the pale bloom in Ian's hand.

"You have not stolen an ancient object of our people."

A pause.

"Unless somebody has become remarkably ambitious since yesterday."

The other elf looked at him. "Do not encourage him."

"I am preventing unnecessary alarm."

"You are enjoying unnecessary alarm."

The warden declined to defend himself. Whatever tension Ian's unexpected approach had created had changed shape. It had not vanished. A human stranger was still standing inside the approaches to a Wood Elf settlement, dressed in materials neither elf could readily place and claiming friendship with one of Aelira's oldest attendants. But he was also holding a common woodland flower with the apprehension of somebody who had suddenly remembered that enchanted forests had a poor record of allowing attractive objects to remain uncomplicated. The warden looked along the path behind Ian.

"You walked from outside the settled ground."

It was an observation rather than a question. His gaze returned to Ian's boots, then the flower, and finally his face.

"Dawnleaf will probably approve of that."

The unfamiliar elf gave him another look.

"Probably?"

"I have no authority over Dawnleaf's opinions."

"That has never prevented anyone from having them."

This time the warden did smile. Ian's perfect Elven had not been forgotten, however. The woman turned her attention back to him. Her amusement faded into curiosity rather than suspicion. A human knowing Lethira was one unusual fact. A human appearing alone by a forest path was another. A human speaking Elven with the effortless fluency of somebody raised beneath these trees was harder to place. She studied him for another moment.

"You aren't speaking Common."

The warden's eyes sharpened slightly as well. The woman tilted her head.

"Where did you learn Elven?"

"I'm not speaking Elven either. You just hear it. I think it's nicer that way. Would you prefer Common?"

The unfamiliar elf stared at him. Her eyes moved briefly to his mouth, as though watching more carefully might expose the trick. Ian's lips had formed English; what had reached her had contained the sounds, rhythm and small grammatical habits of fluent Elven. The warden had apparently reached the same conclusion from a different direction. His earlier amusement faded into concentrated attention.

"No," the woman said eventually. "Elven is easier."

She considered that answer.

"Although I am no longer certain that is what we are discussing."

The warden glanced towards her. "He said we hear it."

"I heard him."

"Apparently in Elven."

That earned him a look. The exchange had the comfortable irritation of people who had worked together before. Neither appeared frightened. They were, however, considerably more interested in Ian than they had been when he was merely an unexplained human carrying a flower. The woman spoke to him again, still in Elven.

"Common would prove very little. If whatever you are doing makes me hear Elven, I assume it could make me hear Common too."

The warden's gaze returned to the flower.

"At least the flower remains straightforward."

"Do not tempt it."

He looked almost apologetic. Ian's route into the settlement had ceased to be a simple question of whether his claim to know Lethira was plausible. The warden had seen enough before to establish that much. What neither elf had been prepared for was a human arriving on foot while casually removing one of the oldest practical barriers between their peoples. The woman folded her arms.

"Keep the Elven."

A small smile appeared.

"If Dawnleaf is voluntarily spending time with a human who can make language behave, I would rather understand every word of the explanation."

The warden made a quiet sound that might have been agreement. Then he looked at Ian more directly.

"What are you actually speaking?"

"Something private."

Ian smiled.

"May I continue to see Lethira? I think I know the way."

The unfamiliar elf looked at the warden. He looked back at her. Whatever passed between them required neither language mechanism nor much time. The warden's attention returned to Ian. He had already seen enough on the earlier evening to know that Lethira had not merely tolerated this particular human inside the settlement. She had walked beside him openly, arm linked through his, with no apparent concern for who noticed.

"If Dawnleaf does not want you at her door," he said, "I am confident Dawnleaf can solve that problem."

The woman beside him gave a quiet laugh. The warden's eyes dropped once more to the white flower.

"And if she does want you there, I have no desire to become the person who delayed you while interrogating vegetation."

He stepped aside. The other elf followed, though her curiosity remained considerably less disciplined than his.

"You do know the way," the warden added. "I saw you returning with her before."

There was enough in the phrasing to make clear that he also remembered *how* they had been returning. The unfamiliar elf's gaze moved sharply towards him, then back to Ian. New information had arrived. The warden ignored her.

"Stay on the settlement paths. Dawnleaf's home is where you remember it."

He inclined his head, dismissing the encounter rather than turning Ian's unusual language into a problem he was required to solve on the spot. The woman was less willing to surrender the mystery.

"Something private," she repeated, apparently testing the phrase.

Her eyes flicked towards the flower.

"I think Dawnleaf may find you complicated."

The warden glanced at her.

"Dawnleaf has known complicated people before."

"Not ones who arrive carrying flowers while speaking a language they aren't speaking."

"That we know of."

She stared at him. He remained entirely composed. The path ahead was open. Ian continued towards Lethira's home. The settlement became more familiar as he went. He recognised the broader route near the central tree, then a turn where he and Lethira had passed beneath lamplight on their first date. In daylight—or whatever part of the local day this was—the place carried more movement than the quiet return beneath the moon had allowed him to notice. An elf crossed overhead with a bundle balanced against one shoulder. Two others were repairing something along the edge of a raised walkway, their conversation continuing as Ian passed below. A woman carrying a basket looked at him, looked again, and then chose the socially useful solution of continuing wherever she had been going. Nobody else stopped him. That did not mean nobody noticed.

A human in black Earth clothing walking alone through a Wood Elf settlement was conspicuous enough. The white flower in his hand added an intention to the picture which apparently made several glances last longer. Ian knew the final turns. The path narrowed between two enormous trunks. A familiar stretch of timber appeared beyond them, then the smaller branch of the settlement where Lethira lived. Her home came into view almost exactly as he remembered it. No impossible television showed through the walls. No anime announced itself to the settlement. From outside, Lethira Dawnleaf's home remained simply her home. Ian reached the door. The white flower was still intact in his hand. Ian knocked. There was movement inside almost at once, followed by the familiar sound of the latch. The door opened. Lethira stood on the other side.

She had dressed for an ordinary day in the settlement rather than for travel: practical green-brown clothing, fitted enough not to interfere with movement, with the heavier layers and bow she had worn to the Great Peak absent. Her ash-brown hair was tied back loosely. It had already escaped near one ear, where the silver cuff Ian knew caught a little of the daylight from outside. Recognition reached her face first. Then she saw the flower. Ian held it out.

"Good afternoon, my Lady."

Lethira stopped. Her eyes went from him to the small white bloom between his fingers. The title had amused her when written on gold-edged paper. Spoken at her door while he offered her a flower apparently required a different adjustment. The smile came slowly.

"My Lady," she repeated.

There was satisfaction in it. Lethira reached out and accepted the flower carefully by its stem. She turned it once between her fingers, examining the pale petals. Whatever Ian had feared on the path, she displayed no alarm at finding an ancient Wood Elf artefact disguised as local vegetation. She lifted it nearer her face and breathed in. The scent was faint. Green more than sweet. When she looked at him again, the teasing had softened.

"You brought me a flower."

Lethira seemed to find the simple fact worth considering for a moment. Their previous dates had included food from another world, anime, a moon beneath their feet, flying across half a continent and walking on the Great Peak. The small white thing in her hand had required none of those capabilities. Her thumb moved lightly along the stem.

"I like it."

She glanced down the path behind Ian. That was when more of the picture reached her. He had not arrived through her doorway. He was standing outside it in the same black clothes she had come to recognise, with the forest behind him and the small traces of an actual walk on his boots. Lethira's eyes narrowed slightly. Not suspiciously. With interest. She looked back at him.

"Did you walk here?"

"For a mile or so. I met a female elf, and then some wardens. They confirmed the flower wasn't a relic or otherwise important Elven property, which was a relief."

Ian smiled.

"Your name definitely helped. Thankfully one of the wardens recognised me, so I didn't get to see the majesty of Elven archery extremely first hand."

Lethira stared at him for a moment. Then she looked down at the flower. Her shoulders moved once.

"You asked them whether this was a relic."

The question contained enough amusement that the answer was clearly no longer required. She lifted the bloom between them, inspecting it with exaggerated seriousness. The five pale petals remained entirely unimpressed by their new historical significance.

"I have unfortunate news. You have picked one of the most dangerous objects in the Elven Woods."

Lethira turned it slightly.

"It blooms for part of the year beside wet ground. Children pick them. Deer eat them. I believe I once stepped on several while carrying a wounded man."

Her expression remained solemn.

"We have concealed their importance extremely well."

The performance broke. She laughed, quieter than the elf on the path had, but for longer. Then Ian's second point caught up with her.

"One of the wardens recognised you."

Lethira's eyes narrowed with pleased comprehension.

"Oh."

She knew exactly how few wardens had previously been given an opportunity to recognise Ian socially rather than merely know that some impossible human existed somewhere in a restricted circle.

"The pair we passed after the moon."

She did not need confirmation badly enough to turn it into a question. Her smile widened as memory supplied the rest: Ian beside her, their arms linked, the warden looking once and then discovering that the path directly ahead required extraordinary concentration.

"Then your name may not have been the most persuasive evidence."

Lethira looked Ian over once, from his familiar black clothes to the flower he had brought her.

"I suspect being the human he last saw attached to my arm helped."

There was no embarrassment in the observation. Lethira had made no attempt to conceal their affection that evening. Her expression softened again when her attention returned to the flower.

"But I am glad you walked."

She ran one fingertip very lightly along the edge of a white petal.

"You could have appeared at my door. Instead you spent part of the journey actually coming here."

The Great Peak had already taught her that impossible access was better when it left some distance intact. She looked back at him.

"And you arrived bearing extremely safe vegetation."

She stepped back from the doorway, leaving the way into her home open.

"Come in, Ian."

Ian stepped through the doorway and into her arms. The embrace was more playful than the ones before it. He caught Lethira with a little more momentum, closing the distance as though the greeting had been waiting through the last mile as much as the flower had. Lethira gave a quiet sound of surprise. Then her arms came firmly around him.

"I missed you."

The words reached her from close against her shoulder. Lethira's hold tightened. Not enough to turn the embrace into another demonstration of their relative strength, though perhaps enough to suggest she had considered it. One hand settled high between his shoulders while the other held him securely around the back. She leaned into him in return, accepting the playfulness instead of merely receiving it.

"I missed you too."

She had said the same thing before the Great Peak. It came with less surprise this time. For another few seconds she did not release him. Then Ian let her go. Lethira's hands lingered briefly at his sides before falling away. Her smile remained, and the flower was still held carefully in one hand, apparently having survived both the journey and the greeting without becoming an endangered cultural treasure. Ian followed her farther into the room. Lethira closed the door behind them. Her home was much as he remembered it. The low table and cushions remained near the centre of the room. Her bow rested against the wall rather than within immediate reach, and the hidden tablet was nowhere conspicuous enough to betray itself to somebody opening the door unexpectedly. A small stack of the gold-edged missive paper remained near the things she used regularly.

There was no preparation for a mountain. No pack waiting by the wall. No heavy cloak, travelling bow or collection of carefully chosen cold-weather equipment. She had meant what she wrote: this could be an ordinary evening. Lethira stood for a moment with the flower still in her hand. Then she crossed to one of the shelves.

"I should probably prevent your romantic gesture from dying immediately."

She found a small narrow-necked vessel—not decorative enough to have existed purely for flowers, but entirely capable of acquiring that purpose—and poured a little water into it from the room's ordinary supply. The white bloom went inside. Lethira adjusted the stem once. The flower leaned slightly to one side. She considered correcting it, then left it there. Against the darker wood of the shelf, its pale petals caught the room's light surprisingly well.

"There."

She stepped back to inspect it.

"Your relic has been installed."

Her mouth curved. The joke passed, but her attention remained on the flower for another moment. When she turned towards Ian again, something quieter accompanied the amusement.

"I like that you found it on the way."

She came back towards him.

"Not because I require flowers. You have already established that you can produce much more unreasonable gifts than this."

Her eyes moved briefly to the shelf.

"But this one existed where you were walking, and you noticed it."

That seemed sufficient. Lethira moved past him towards the cushions and sat, folding one leg beneath herself with the same easy economy he remembered. She did not immediately reach for the hidden tablet. Nor did she begin proposing places to go. Instead she looked up at Ian. The smile returned.

"You wrote that you were happy to spend the evening how I wished."

A beat.

"And I wrote that I wasn't going to decide from a piece of paper whether you staying longer was part of tonight."

Her expression remained light, but the question underneath it was real.

"So before I decide what I want to do with you this evening—did you come here with a plan?"

"Not really. I tend to make things up as I go. This may explain why omnipotence is tricky."

Ian paused.

"I would like to continue the discussion around exploring the world with you. We don't have to start on that tonight, or we could... But, no plan other than that. And seeing you, of course."

He took her hand. Lethira's fingers closed around his immediately. She looked down at their hands, then back at him.

"Making things up as you go while possessing omnipotence does explain several things."

Her thumb moved once across the side of his hand.

"Some of them are reassuring. Some of them are why I prefer asking what you intend before the impossible part begins."

The observation was dry rather than accusatory. The Great Peak had been the clearest example. She had flown because she wanted to fly. Walked because she wanted the mountain beneath her own feet. Become tired, cold and wet without the landscape politely arranging itself around her. When she asked for time alone, Ian had gone. That mattered more to Lethira than whether he could have made every inconvenience disappear. Her fingers fitted more comfortably between his.

"And I am glad seeing me made the plan."

The smile accompanying that was quieter. For a little while she simply sat with him. Outside, the settlement supplied its ordinary background through the walls: distant movement across timber, a voice somewhere along the path, leaves stirring high above them. The white flower remained on the shelf where she had put it, leaning slightly from the narrow vessel. Then Lethira's gaze went towards another shelf.

"I did think about the journey after I wrote to you."

She released his hand only long enough to rise and retrieve an old folded map. The paper had been handled often enough for the creases to have softened. It was not one of the extraordinary maps Thomas had once accumulated around ancient roads and passage systems. Nothing glowed. No route rearranged itself to accommodate Ian. It was simply a practical regional map, marked with roads, settlements, waterways and the sort of information people needed when distance still had consequences. Lethira brought it to the low table and opened it between them.

"I stopped planning after a while because I realised I was beginning to turn a journey we had barely discussed into an expedition."

She sat again, close enough that her knee rested lightly beside his.

"That seemed contrary to the point."

One finger settled on Merrowford.

"This is still my first thought."

The town needed no introduction between them now. Ian knew its importance from Thomas and Isha's history; Lethira knew it as an actual place, one she had entered for reasons ranging from royal business to checking on two young people who had become unusually bad at concealing their feelings.

"It is large enough that we could arrive without becoming the entire day's entertainment. Humans, elves and other peoples pass through it. There are inns, markets, the Guild, roads in several directions."

Her fingertip moved around the mark without tracing a complete route.

"And I have not been there recently enough to know exactly what will still be where I remember it."

That pleased her.

"I don't want to reproduce Thomas and Isha's road. I don't think you do either. If we find an inn they once stayed in, I may tell you. If somewhere reminds me of one of Thomas's unnecessary social problems, I will almost certainly tell you."

Her mouth curved.

"But I want to know what is there now."

She looked towards Ian.

"And I want to travel with you while getting there."

Their correspondence had already settled the limits. Public roads and living places were available; private family sites, restricted ground and places belonging to somebody else's grief were not attractions simply because Ian could reach them. Legitimate trouble might be allowed to find them. Manufactured danger was not. Lethira's eyes dropped to his black jeans and T-shirt. Another thought visibly arrived. Her gaze remained there for several seconds. Then she looked at him again.

"You have also just walked one mile through the Elven Woods dressed like that."

A small smile appeared.

"This suggests our first problem may be considerably less metaphysical than either of us expected."

She touched the map again.

"If we actually begin travelling, Ian, do you intend to walk the roads in those clothes?"

"If you want to strip and dress me, who am I to argue?"

Lethira's eyes left the map. The look she gave him was immediate and entirely unhurried.

"I was discussing road clothing."

Her mouth curved.

"Although I admire how efficiently you found another interpretation."

Ian considered the problem more seriously.

"I don't actually need to change. I could if you think it matters. People's reactions are quite amusing sometimes, but that might cause issues... but no one can really hurt me, or you, so... it's up to you. Whatever you think is best. We can also change depending on where we are."

Lethira listened, amusement gradually giving way to practical attention. Ian looked down. An AI had once told him the boots were *German army KS2005 Bundeswehr combat boots*. He had always considered *German army boots* sufficient. Here, *German* would solve very little. Nobody in this world had any reason to know what Germany was.

"These boots are from the military of a country in my world. They are probably the least worst item—they are leather. I dunno why I have them, other than I actually find them comfortable. They are not the normal attire of... people who work where I do. I like the incongruity and the slightly rebellious nature."

Lethira's gaze dropped deliberately to his feet. She had seen the boots on a moonlit forest path, above the Great Peak's snow and now after a mile through the Elven Woods. Until this moment they had apparently occupied the simple category of *Ian's strange black boots*.

"A soldier's boots."

She leaned slightly to examine one from where she sat.

"From another world."

Her eyes rose to him.

"And you wear them to rebel against people who expect you to dress differently while doing work that does not involve marching anywhere."

The concept appeared to survive translation perfectly well. Lethira smiled.

"That is much more understandable than I expected."

Her attention travelled upward: boots, black jeans, T-shirt.

"The boots can stay."

She touched one finger to the map beside Merrowford.

"The rest is more complicated."

A public road was different from the Great Peak. Merrowford was accustomed to travellers and unusual peoples, but clothing could imply wealth, trade, occupation, allegiance, origin, or simply invite a merchant to begin asking where a fabric came from and whether more existed.

"I do not need you disguised as someone from my world," Lethira said. "That would become ridiculous very quickly. You don't know our clothing habits well enough to pretend convincingly, and I have no interest in spending the journey correcting how you stand because your trousers claim you are a caravan guard from somewhere you have never visited."

Her fingers settled over his again.

"But I also don't want every innkeeper deciding that the mysterious human wearing impossible black cloth is more interesting than the room we are trying to rent."

She glanced towards his T-shirt.

"Especially when we intend to travel for pleasure instead of spending each evening inventing explanations."

The question of safety made her expression change slightly.

"I know that you can protect yourself. And I know what you mean about protecting me."

She did not reject the assurance. Their Great Peak date had already depended upon Ian making lethal environmental consequences unavailable while leaving cold, fatigue, weather and physical effort real enough to matter.

"But if we travel properly, I don't want invulnerability to become our answer to ordinary judgement."

Her tone remained practical.

"If somebody insults us, we do not need to discover whether your body can survive a sword. If a guard asks a reasonable question, being impossible does not make ignoring him polite. If a drunk wants trouble, I would prefer to leave before he becomes an experiment."

A pause.

"And if somebody genuinely tries to kill us, I will be very pleased that your definition of ordinary travel includes refusing to die."

Lethira looked back at his clothes.

"So I think we compromise."

Her eyes brightened.

"You keep the boots. We find you clothes that belong plausibly on a road here, without pretending you were born here. Something comfortable. Something you actually like."

The smile became dangerous again.

"And since you volunteered to let me strip and dress you, I assume I have complete authority over the fitting process."

She squeezed his hand.

"Do you want to find something here before we leave, or should Merrowford have the privilege of discovering you first?"

"Based on the fitting process I'm now very keen to do that, but I don't want to look like an elf. That would probably be even worse. So maybe let's go to Merrowford, find an inn, then go... clothes shopping?"

Ian paused.

"That sounds the least anime-elf-human-isekai-adventurer thing... ever."

He smiled.

"I love it."

Lethira looked at him across the map. For several seconds she appeared to be examining the proposal with complete seriousness. Then her mouth curved.

"I think you have misunderstood your own stories. From what I have seen, clothing occupies an unreasonable amount of their attention."

Her eyes travelled over his T-shirt again.

"Although usually with less fabric rather than more."

She squeezed his hand. Ian's expression became more thoughtful.

"Are you OK to go now? Or...?"

Lethira glanced at the map. That changed the question. A few minutes earlier they had been discussing a future journey. A pleasant thing waiting somewhere beyond tonight, capable of remaining interesting precisely because neither of them had committed it to a schedule. Now Merrowford was simply a place they could begin walking towards. Lethira had spent much of her life making that transition. A destination stopped being an idea. Food went into a pack. A cloak came off its hook. Somebody was told where she had gone. Then there was a road beneath her boots. She looked towards the white flower on the shelf. Ian had arrived expecting an ordinary evening. He had walked the final mile because walking had seemed nicer than appearing at her door. Somehow, from that modest beginning, they had reached the possibility of leaving together.

Lethira found she liked that more than she would have liked a carefully announced expedition.

"Yes."

Her answer was uncomplicated.

"I am free."

She folded the map once along an old crease, then stopped before completing the second fold.

"If we are actually leaving for Merrowford, I need more than what I am wearing in my room. I also need to let people here know that I may be away rather longer than an evening. I do occasionally participate in this society."

The last sentence came with a dry glance towards him.

"And unlike the Great Peak, I am packing the bag myself."

Lethira rose. There was a visible change in her once the decision became practical. The woman who had been sitting beside Ian discussing anime and the dangerous implications of trousers became, without any loss of warmth, someone who had spent more than a century leaving places on foot. A travelling pack came from its storage place. She checked the contents rather than assuming whatever had survived the Great Peak remained suitable: water container, trail food, cord, repair roll, spare clothing, a small wrapped bundle of practical necessities. Her weathered cloak followed. The bow came away from the wall, along with its quiver, and the knives at her belt ceased being merely part of what she happened to be wearing. Nothing about the process was theatrical. That was perhaps what made it different from Ian's anime adventurers.

Lethira did not stand before a mirror while choosing the correct silhouette for departure. She checked whether one strap had begun to fray. It had not. She added a second pair of socks. The white flower remained behind on the shelf. Lethira noticed it while tightening the pack. For a moment she considered taking it. Then she left it where it was. Something could wait for her to come home. She looked back at Ian.

"Merrowford first. An inn. Then I take you clothes shopping while you discover that being invulnerable provides no defence against somebody telling you those trousers fit badly."

Her smile sharpened.

"And we begin the journey with the important work."

She settled the pack properly over her shoulders.

"Walking there."

"Lead the way, my Lady."

Ian opened the door and bowed with enough excess to make the gesture useless for any serious ceremonial purpose. Lethira stopped beside him. She looked down at the bent human. Then at the open door. Then back at him.

"This is becoming dangerous."

She adjusted the strap of her pack.

"I accepted *my Lady* because I enjoyed it. I did not realise you would immediately construct an entire court around the phrase."

Lethira stepped through the doorway with deliberate dignity, waited until Ian straightened, then inclined her head by approximately the amount his performance had deserved.

"Your service is noted."

Her composure lasted until she turned away. The smile remained visible from the side. Ian followed her out. Lethira closed the door, checked it from habit, and glanced once through the nearby opening towards the shelf inside. The small white flower was still visible against the darker room. Then she set off. She did not initially take the path Ian had used to reach her.

"One interruption," she said. "Then east."

The settlement was more active with Lethira beside him. People who had merely watched the strange human earlier now had context walking at his side. An older elf carrying a shallow wooden tray looked from Lethira to Ian and then, with impressive discipline, returned attention to the tray. Two younger adults talking beside a raised platform stopped briefly enough to make their interest obvious before continuing in voices that became no quieter. Lethira noticed every one of them. She acknowledged none. Ian's black clothing remained conspicuous beside her travelling layers. His boots, at least, had now received formal approval from one Wood Elf and could presumably survive the remainder of the settlement without diplomatic incident. They passed beneath the immense central tree and turned towards the higher part of the inhabited ground.

Lethira's destination became apparent before she said anything. Aelira's chambers lay ahead. Ian had been there before, though usually by considerably less conventional methods. Approaching on foot with Lethira carrying a pack and bow made the place feel less like the location where an impossible visitor occasionally inserted himself into a princess's day and more like part of an actual settlement with routes, duties and people who needed to know when one of their own disappeared onto a road. Lethira glanced sideways at him.

"I said I needed to tell people I might be away."

A pause.

"Aelira is people."

Her smile returned.

"She will object to that description if given enough time."

They reached the outer approach to Aelira's chambers. One attendant was present nearby. Recognition of Lethira was immediate; recognition of Ian came more slowly, though no alarm followed. Lethira exchanged a few quiet words with her, enough to establish that Aelira was inside and not presently occupied with anything that prevented interruption. Lethira knocked. Aelira answered after a short interval. The door opened. Her eyes found Lethira first. The travelling pack registered. Then the bow. Then Ian. Aelira became very still. It was not shock. By now, Ian appearing somewhere near her life had exhausted much of shock's usefulness. This was assessment: Lethira dressed for several days on a road, Ian beside her in his usual impossible human clothes, both apparently in a good mood. Aelira's gaze returned to Lethira.

"You are going somewhere."

"Merrowford."

Aelira's eyebrows rose.

"Today."

"Yes."

Lethira supplied no apology. Aelira looked from her to Ian and back again.

"How long?"

"I don't know."

That answer appeared to interest Aelira more than a precise one would have. Lethira rested one hand against the strap across her shoulder.

"We discussed travelling together. Properly. Roads, towns, inns. Merrowford seemed a useful beginning, and we decided there was no particular reason the idea needed to remain on paper."

Aelira took that in. The road proposal itself was new to her; whatever Lethira had chosen to tell her after the Great Peak had apparently not included the later missives.

"Walking?"

"Yes."

Aelira's eyes moved to Ian's clothes. Lethira followed them.

"We have already identified that problem."

"I see."

"He is keeping the boots."

Aelira looked down. Ian's German military footwear received its second royal-adjacent inspection of the day.

"They are apparently from soldiers in his world," Lethira added.

Aelira looked back at her.

"Apparently?"

"He likes them because they are comfortable and mildly rebellious."

For several seconds, Aelira said nothing. Then she looked at Ian again. Something in her face suggested that this explanation had not made him easier to categorise.

"Ian."

There was restrained amusement beneath the formality now.

"You crossed realities, walked into our settlement dressed as yourself, and are now leaving on foot for Merrowford with Lethira because the two of you decided to go clothes shopping."

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Have I understood this correctly?"

"Lethira was on the cusp of stripping me and dressing me in whatever is fashionable for young Elven males, so for my own dignity, I suggested we proceed to the nearest local clothes shop."

Lethira turned her head very slowly towards him. Aelira did not. Ian continued, completely deadpan.

"I think that's the royal summary missive."

There was a short silence outside the princess's chamber. Aelira's composure survived it. Lethira's did not.

"I said road clothes."

Her voice was dangerously calm.

"I specifically said you should *not* pretend to be from our people."

Aelira's gaze shifted to her friend.

"And the stripping?"

"He volunteered that."

"I see." Aelira's voice remained perfectly level.

Lethira folded her arms. The movement had the unfortunate effect of making her look more like a witness preparing to correct the official record.

"He volunteered it enthusiastically."

"I did not ask." Lethira's expression suggested this was beside the point.

"No, but apparently we are producing a royal summary."

Aelira finally looked away. It was only for a moment, towards the interior of her chamber, but Lethira knew her too well. Her eyes narrowed.

"You're laughing."

"I am considering the report."

Lethira stared at her friend. Aelira's composure had become too careful to be convincing.

"There is no report."

"That may be why it is so concise."

Lethira stared at her. The attendant nearby had developed an extraordinary interest in something farther along the walkway. Her posture remained correct. Her face was almost entirely turned away. Aelira noticed this as well and, with the mercy expected of royalty, did not involve her. Instead she looked back at Ian. There was considerably more amusement in her expression now.

"I believe your summary contains one disputed fact, one omission, and an unnecessary amount of confidence."

Lethira folded her arms.

"Only one disputed fact?"

Aelira considered.

"Perhaps two."

"Better."

The two women regarded one another with the ease of people who had been doing this for longer than Ian had been alive. The First Princess and her attendant were still present in the arrangement—Lethira had come here because leaving for an uncertain period was worth reporting—but neither seemed inclined to waste those roles on pretending this was a court audience. Aelira's attention moved once more over Ian's clothes. The boots had apparently survived scrutiny. The black jeans and T-shirt remained less convincing as travelling wear for a human intending to cross public roads and stay in ordinary inns.

"Merrowford is probably the sensible answer," she said. "If he buys clothing here, someone will inevitably decide that a human dressed by Wood Elves should look like what *they* think humans ought to wear."

Lethira's eyebrows rose.

"Exactly."

"And if you choose it all for him, he will look like what you think a human ought to wear."

"Also exactly."

Aelira looked at her. Lethira smiled.

"I did not say I intended to avoid that problem."

That finally broke Aelira's restraint. She laughed once, quietly. The sound disappeared quickly into the ordinary settlement around them. Somewhere higher in the branches, footsteps crossed timber. Voices carried through leaves and faded again. The moment remained small despite the impossible man standing inside it and the fact that Lethira had apparently decided, within the span of an afternoon, to leave on an open-ended journey with him. Aelira looked at the travelling pack again.

"How long are you actually prepared to be gone?"

Lethira answered after a moment rather than pretending the question had already been settled.

"Several days without difficulty. Longer if the road keeps being interesting. I can replace ordinary supplies as we go."

"And duties here?"

"Nothing waiting on me that cannot wait a few days. If that changes, somebody can send word along the usual routes."

Aelira nodded. That was the part she had needed.

"If you decide this is becoming weeks rather than days, send word yourself."

"I will."

"Not through Ian."

Lethira's expression became mildly offended.

"I do know how letters work."

"I am ensuring omnipotence does not become postage."

Lethira looked sideways at Ian.

"That may be the most serious danger identified so far."

Aelira ignored this. Her attention settled on her friend for a few seconds longer. The humour receded, leaving something warmer and more private beneath it. She knew about the first date. She knew about the Great Peak, the kisses, the growing intimacy and Lethira's admission that she might want Ian to stay with her sometime. The road journey itself had been private until a few minutes ago. Now Lethira was standing in front of her with a pack and bow, visibly pleased. Aelira did not turn that into a warning.

"Enjoy Merrowford."

Lethira's face softened.

"I intend to."

"And try not to frighten the clothing merchants."

"That depends entirely on their measurements."

Aelira closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them, Lethira was smiling with complete innocence.

"I meant Ian."

"I know what you meant."

"Good."

Aelira looked at Ian once more.

"The royal summary is amended. Lethira is leaving voluntarily, Merrowford is in danger of commerce, and no young Elven males are presently involved."

Lethira gave a satisfied nod.

"Much more accurate."

Aelira stepped back towards her chamber.

"Then go before the report acquires another paragraph."

Lethira turned towards Ian, amusement still bright in her eyes.

"Come along. Your dignity apparently requires urgent professional assistance."

Before Aelira could retreat into her chamber, Ian held out a small stack of blank gold-edged sheets. She looked at the paper. Lethira looked at Ian. The expression on her face suggested that the danger of turning omnipotence into postage had survived approximately twenty seconds. Aelira accepted the stack with both hands, more because unfamiliar magical objects deserved not to be dropped than because ceremony demanded it.

"Aelira, if there is anything serious enough that a normal messenger won't work, sign your name underneath the message on one of these. They will appear with us. And thank you for being so accommodating, it means a lot to me. I am in your debt."

That made Aelira look up. The humour left her expression, although not because she disliked what he had said.

"No."

Ian had heard that tone from her before. It was the voice she used when a word needed correcting before its implications became more troublesome than the conversation.

"You are not in my debt."

Aelira glanced at Lethira.

"She is my friend. She wanted to go somewhere with you. I had no reason to prevent her, and considerably less authority to do so than your gratitude seems to imply."

Lethira's mouth curved.

"I appreciate this sudden constitutional clarity."

Aelira ignored her.

"You told me what you intended. Lethira told me what she intended. You are leaving by an ordinary road, and she has agreed to send word if the journey becomes substantially longer."

She lifted the gilded sheets slightly.

"This is useful. I will keep it for something that actually justifies ignoring normal distance."

Her gaze returned to Ian.

"But allowing two adults to leave the settlement together is not a favour for which you owe a princess payment."

There was no coldness in it. If anything, the correction had become gentler by the end. "You may be grateful," she added. "That is less administratively alarming."

Beside him, Lethira nodded.

"She is correct. You may owe *me* several things, but I intend to invent those gradually."

Aelira closed her eyes.

"Lethira."

"I said gradually."

The attendant farther along the walkway made the smallest possible sound and converted it into a cough. Aelira looked at the blank missives again.

"Sign underneath the message."

She repeated the operating condition precisely, committing it to memory. Lethira leaned slightly closer to inspect the stack.

"So now Aelira has better correspondence with us than most kingdoms possess."

"Only for serious need," Aelira said.

Lethira's innocence was already unconvincing before she answered.

"Naturally."

"And I notice that you have just made omnipotence into postage."

Lethira looked at Ian.

"I was going to say it."

Aelira gathered the sheets neatly and held them against one palm. Then she regarded Ian for another moment.

"Thank you. For giving me a way to reach her if ordinary distance becomes the wrong tool."

Her eyes moved briefly to Lethira.

"And for understanding that the ordinary distance should usually remain."

That was enough. Aelira stepped back towards her chamber with the gilded paper in hand.

"Now go to Merrowford before either of you discovers another reason to make this departure more complicated."

"Excellent royal advice."

Lethira began leading Ian away. Behind them, Aelira's voice followed.

"Lethira."

Lethira looked back.

"Several days."

"I remember."

Aelira held her gaze. "And write if it becomes weeks."

"I remember that too."

Aelira gave her a look which suggested repetition had been intentional rather than necessary. Lethira smiled and turned back towards the settlement paths. Her fingers tightened comfortably around Ian's.

"Come on. We have a long walk and an urgent crisis involving your trousers."

Ian laughed and followed Lethira on their journey. They crossed back through the inhabited layers of the settlement without hurrying. The people who had watched Ian arrive alone now had a simpler picture to interpret: Lethira in travelling clothes with her bow and pack, the strange human beside her, both heading towards the eastern way as though this had become a departure sometime in the last hour. The raised paths thinned first. Then the dwellings became intermittent between the trunks. The sounds of work and conversation fell behind them until leaves, water and their own footfalls took over again.

Lethira knew the route well enough that she did not consult the map. She settled into an easy travelling pace, neither slowing theatrically for Ian nor turning the first part of the journey into a test of whether he could keep up. Merrowford remained somewhere beyond the eastern forest, with an inn, clothing merchants and whatever had changed since Lethira had last walked its streets. The Wood Elf settlement disappeared behind the trees before they had gone very far. Lethira adjusted one shoulder strap and kept walking.