## Chapter 446 — Dinner After the B-Rank

Lethira had been waiting only a few minutes when the door opened. The Reed and Wheel was settling from afternoon into evening around her. A fresh candle burned near the hearth, chairs scraped intermittently across the floor, and the kitchen had begun sending out the smell of onions and roasting meat. Lethira was still in her field clothes. Most of the mud had come off her boots at the public trough, though a dark line remained along one seam, and the shallow score across her leather sleeve showed where a Reed Mauler spine had caught it. Her bow rested safely against the wall beside her chair.

Ian arrived after only a few minutes and sat down opposite her. The small tension around Lethira's eyes eased. "That was barely enough time for me to become dramatically abandoned."

"I'm sorry I've failed to abandon the person I love most in this reality. I shall, of course, try much harder next time." His tone was sarcastic.

Lethira reached across the table and touched his hand. "A serious failure. I may have to reconsider your position." Her smile stayed with him. "But since you've already arrived, I'll tolerate your company. How was your A-rank clerical warfare?"

"It was a good day. I had a walk for lunch, managed to avoid getting drenched, and I'm now home. It's... almost dinner time here too."

"I like that they happened to line up today." Lethira glanced towards the kitchen as another plate went past. "You at the end of your work. Me at the end of mine. And apparently both hungry."

Ian let her answer before saying, "How was your day? Did I yet again fail to witness you slaying dragons with one hand?"

Lethira laughed softly. "No dragons. Two Reed Maulers." Her fingers touched the scored leather at her sleeve. "It was good. I liked being out there on my own again. Tracking properly, choosing my ground, moving at my own pace." She looked at him across the table. "I made a bad second shot on the sow. Too high. She kept coming, so I had to move and take another. Less elegant than the dragon version."

"Normal enough, though? Or an off day, or lack of practice? It's hard for me to imagine doing something for hundreds of years."

"Normal enough." Lethira turned her cup slowly between her hands. "I wasn't rusty. She came out faster than I'd expected, I adjusted while moving, and I released a little high. I knew what I'd done almost as soon as the string left my fingers." She took a drink before adding, "Doing something for a very long time doesn't make every attempt perfect. Mostly it means I've made many of the mistakes before, so I recognise them quickly. And those centuries weren't one uninterrupted archery lesson."

"Although you could have probably hit the sow from here whilst eating stew, if you had."

Lethira looked towards the kitchen, then through the wall in roughly the direction of the western drainage ground. "If I'd spent the whole century doing nothing but archery, perhaps. As things stand, I prefer not to test Caswick's tolerance for shooting livestock-sized monsters through her walls."

The joke passed, and Lethira settled back into the question underneath it when Ian asked, "Was it fairly typical for a quest ranked to that level? I just thought ranked B would be more scary, a horde of goblins or whatever. Maybe that's the anime scale."

"That may be the anime scale." She shifted her cup aside. "B-rank isn't the Guild promising me something enormous. It means the contract has several ways to go badly, and they don't want somebody below that level carrying responsibility for finishing it." She counted the shape of the job with her fingertips against the table: several maulers moving through reeds, two mature adults, wet footing, poor sight-lines, an injured worker already, and a damaged bank that still had to be understood after the animals were dealt with. "A horde of goblins could be B work. So could one dangerous thing in very bad ground. The letter belongs to the whole problem."

Ian smiled. "I guess, also, it being B ensures a lone C-rank doesn't try and chance it on their own, and maybe takes 2 of them, or something like that?"

"Yes. A branch might accept a suitable C-rank party where it wouldn't accept one C-rank alone." Lethira's expression became more exact. "But two Cs don't turn into a B by arithmetic. Who they are, what they can do, and whether they know how to work together still matters."

Ian sighed. "Hopefully, when I go with you, it will be goblins." He reached over and held her hand. "I'm glad our days have aligned. I'm going to try and keep this, if practical."

Lethira turned her hand beneath his and laced their fingers. "If we find goblins, I promise to let you be appropriately pleased." Her thumb moved across his knuckles. She looked around the common room, then back at him. "And I'd like to keep this too. I don't want either of us arranging our whole lives around making the clocks match, but when they happen to..." Her gaze softened. "Leaving separately. Coming back separately. Meeting for dinner because we chose to. I like it."

Ian pressed his thigh against hers. "Shall we eat, my love?"

Her leg pressed back beneath the table. "Yes. Something substantial. I earned dinner today."

Ian squeezed her hand. "And I'll make sure I select something susceptible to theft."

Caswick passed the far end of the common room carrying two bowls, and the smell of stew briefly overtook the roast from the kitchen.

Lethira glanced towards the kitchen. "Then I should probably order something you actually want."

Ian looked as though he had been both mortally wounded and his entire lineage offended.

She held the expression for a moment before her composure weakened. "All right. Your lineage is innocent." Her thumb brushed his hand once. "You remain suspicious."

"After dinner, maybe a walk home, but via the river and the land south of our home... if you can walk over it. Would be nice to see if you can get to the river from our land. Or, how much regret you're willing to bear to do it."

That caught Lethira's interest immediately. She looked down at her mud-marked boots and then towards the door. "I'm already dressed for regrettable terrain." The house's recorded stream crossed the lower part of their holding, but they had never followed the ground south to learn what happened between their boundary and the river. "I'd like to know where the walk actually stops. If there's a sensible route, good. If there's a swamp, we can at least become properly informed about the swamp."

"I've never been carried on the back of an attractive warden before. This might be a new experience for me." Ian smiled at her.

Lethira's answering look carried more appraisal than alarm. "That depends entirely on whether the attractive warden decides you're worth carrying."

She let the idea rest there. Ian glanced around, trying to catch Caswick's eye before they died of hunger.

Caswick noticed from across the common room and came over with the expression of a woman who had been aware of them before either of them began looking. "Yes. I've seen you." The evening choices were simple: beef and root stew, roast chicken with barley and onions, or river fish with greens.

"Stew," Lethira said. "And bread."

"Chicken, please, Caswick."

Caswick nodded and moved on towards the kitchen. Lethira watched her go, then looked back at Ian. "A very vulnerable choice."

The common room had filled while they waited. Their table sat against the wall, several paces from the next occupied one; between them and the rest of the room, conversation, crockery and chairs had become a steady evening wash of sound.

The waiting time allowed the conversation to turn somewhere neither of them had planned. Ian asked, "Do you think I should go see the Waykeeper? Not now, obviously."

The humour eased from Lethira's face. She considered it, still keeping hold of his hand. "Eventually, yes. But I wouldn't go looking for her while she's still walking the road you gave her. The point was that she could decide how far she went, when she stopped, whether she turned around." She glanced down at their joined hands. "If she returns, I want to see her again. I want to know what she thinks after choosing her way through it. And I want to know whether she still accepts the boundary she gave me once it has had time to become inconvenient."

"I'm worried the reality engine is trying to give me a harem, as per almost every anime, despite my best attempts." Ian lifted her hand and kissed it.

Lethira watched him kiss her hand, amusement softening into something more thoughtful.

"I think your anime has damaged your sense of evidence."

Her fingers curled around his.

"People can like you without wanting to join our bed. Aelira can love you as family. The Waykeeper can be fond of you. Kanno can have her own relationship with you. None of that makes them part of some collection."

Then the corner of her mouth lifted.

"And if reality ever does start assigning women to you, it will discover that the women involved have opinions."

"Now *that* is a fight I'd like to see."

"You assume you'd be allowed to watch."

The remark sat for a beat before Lethira's attention shifted. Ian had mentioned another unfinished problem before, and this time he named it himself.

"I still wonder about Voss. That's, in some ways, more complicated than the five." Ian paused. "More delicate maybe."

Lethira's expression changed; the humour left without taking the warmth with it.

"Yes. More delicate."

Her thumb moved once over his hand.

"The five are dangerous now. They have power over people, and we're dealing with what they may still do. Voss is different. Thomas survived him. Years have passed. And Voss apparently understood enough afterward to change how the work was done, while still never answering for what he did."

She looked down briefly as Caswick approached with their food.

"That doesn't make him innocent. It makes deciding what justice looks like much harder."

Food arrived before the thought needed another conclusion. Caswick set down stew, bread and chicken, then left them to the meal.

They started to eat. For a while the conversation reduced itself to hunger. Lethira tore bread into the stew and ate with the appetite earned by a day in the field. Ian worked through the chicken. When his attention was elsewhere, Lethira's fork crossed the table and returned with a piece from his plate.

Ian smiled to himself without looking back. "I fear the warden has been corrupted by the lowly human into debauchery and criminality."

Lethira ate the stolen piece of chicken with deliberate calm.

"Corrupted."

She considered the accusation while chewing.

"I was stealing food long before I met you."

Her eyes lifted to his.

"You may have encouraged the frequency."

Ian finished his meal, minus any future theft, while Lethira used the last of her bread to clear the gravy from her bowl. By the time they were done, the inn had deepened into evening around them.

Lethira settled the meal with Caswick, slung her bow over one shoulder and looked towards the door. "The light should last."

"Yes, my love. Lead the way."

Outside, Merrowford had begun closing some shutters and lighting others. Lethira led them down towards the river first, using the quieter route beyond the more active yards. The broad water caught the remaining sky in broken strips. They followed it downstream until the town thinned, then turned west where rough grass and scattered trees left room to choose a line.

"You're liking this, I can tell." Ian smiled. "I am too." He hoped it was not too unpleasant; coming down to this big river would be nice.

"I am," Lethira admitted. "Our home is out there, and we still don't properly know the ground around it." The recorded holding was theirs. The uncertain strip between its southern edge and the river was precisely what they had come to learn about.

"So far this part is merely damp."

She chose the higher grass where she could, testing darker patches before trusting them. A shallow old flood channel cut across their route near a stand of alder. Lethira followed it west until roots and stones narrowed the mud to a plausible crossing.

Ian followed her, not quite struggling to keep up, but very much genetically behind a person an order of magnitude, or whatever, faster, stronger, more agile, more attuned, more balanced... more beautiful. He loved watching her move with such grace.

Lethira noticed the distance opening and quietly shortened her stride. Even over broken ground, each step seemed to settle before her weight fully arrived: a boot finding the sound part of a root, one hand touching an alder trunk, balance adjusting almost before the mud could object. When she glanced back, she caught him watching. "I know that look." Ahead, the narrow flood channel waited.

"Yes, my Lady."

"Careful," Lethira said. "You'll encourage me." She crossed first, using two exposed stones, then turned on the far side. "The first one holds. The second is slick on the left."

Ian looked down, then at her, then attempted to cross without slipping and needing a dramatically swift Elf rescue.

Lethira stayed where she was; there was nothing to rescue yet. She held one hand out across the narrow gap. "You can refuse assistance if preserving the possibility of a dramatic rescue is important to you."

Ian looked very guilty at having been discovered and reached for her hand.

Her grip closed around his, warm and steady. She drew him through the last uncertain step, then kept hold of him after there was no practical need. "Far less dramatic."

"I should possibly not play the hapless human role too much, lest you leave me to the dangers of an inch of soggy earth."

"Possibly." Lethira looked ahead, reading the next stretch. "One day I may decide an inch of mud is exactly enough danger for you to learn from experience."

Ian put his arms around her waist from behind and embraced her.

"Onward to our estate and grounds."

Lethira leaned back into him for a moment, her hands settling over his. "Our holding," she corrected, although the satisfaction in her voice weakened the objection to *estate*. Then she turned within his arms, kissed him once and slipped free. "Onward."

Ian followed her as they continued north towards their patch of happiness.

The route became easier as they continued north. Wet hollows gave way to firmer grass beneath willow and alder, while the small watercourse they had chosen from the river kept roughly the same direction. At an old stone marker Lethira slowed. The position, the bend of the stream and the higher ground beyond became familiar: this was the stream crossing the lower part of their holding.

She looked back along the water towards the river, visibly pleased. "So we can get from the river to our stream." The route itself existed. The land south of this point was another matter; their deed described the holding around the stream and recorded boundaries, not a private corridor all the way to the river. "Whether the whole walk can ever be *ours* is a different question."

"Does that mean buying the land, or just checking it's not owned?"

"First we check." Lethira crouched beside the old marker, where moss had grown into the worn face. The deed's legal line departed from some of the old stone boundaries, so she gave this one no authority by itself. "Title, neighbouring holdings, whatever rights already exist along the water. If the strip is public or already open to passage, we may not need anything. If someone owns it, then we decide whether to ask about buying a narrow piece." She looked back towards the river. "I'd still like a path from the house down here."

"Sorry. I would like it too. I didn't mean to ruin the moment."

Lethira stood and slipped her hand into his. "You didn't ruin it. You stopped me turning enthusiasm into a property claim." Her gaze followed the water for a while. "I still want the path. If the land isn't ours, that only tells us what the next question is."

"I would love that." Ian added, "Can I show you something I've done in my reality, where omnipotence doesn't work for me? It is a bit related."

Lethira turned fully towards him, interest sharpening in her face. "Of course. Especially if it's something you had to make by hand. Show me."

Ian handed her a parchment that appeared from nowhere.

"It's a bit messy with labels. I drew it." He smiled. "Which might mean I have created reality, or not. I am not sure." Another smile still lingered as he added, "There is more."

Lethira took the parchment carefully. The map covered an entire continent: coloured mountains and forests, a great northern lake, river systems, deserts, roads and names crowded more tightly in some regions than others. She found the Great River first, then the cluster around Merrowford. Other labels belonged to places she knew by travel, report or old history; some belonged to reaches she had never personally seen.

"You drew all of this?" Her eyes moved over it again. "I am not letting a map decide whether you created reality. Some of these places were already part of my life before I knew you, and I have no idea what that proves about your side of the argument." She shifted her grip on the parchment, careful of the edges. "But you did draw this. In the world where you can't simply decide that a finished map exists. That part I understand."

Ian handed her the next parchment in the same way. "And more, I'm afraid." This map narrowed to the region around Merrowford: the wide river, roads, settlements, the Wood Elf lands and the routes between places Lethira usually held as days of travel, changes in terrain and remembered junctions.

"Oh." Her finger hovered over Merrowford, then followed one of the roads outward. "This is much stranger." She tipped the parchment slightly, comparing lines with lived memory. "I know these places by walking them. By how long the road feels when it rains. By where the ground starts changing under my boots. Putting them beside one another like this makes the distances into something I can see at once." She looked at Ian. "And now I'm going to want to correct things."

"Because this might be a little bit obsessive." Ian handed her the penultimate one. "One more to go. I'd like to map Merrowford better."

The third map narrowed again: Merrowford beside the broad river, the western approach, roads and the small marker for their home beyond town.

Lethira oriented herself quickly. "No. *This* one is dangerous."

Her smile made clear what kind of danger she meant. She traced the western approach in the air above the parchment. "Now I can complain that a road is drawn in the wrong place instead of merely remembering that I dislike the bend."

She studied the town. "I'd like a better Merrowford map too. Streets. The Guild. Reed and Wheel. Market. Bridge approaches. So I can see why some routes feel short and others don't."

Then she glanced at him. "You may be right about the obsession."

Ian handed the final parchment over. "The long rectangle, I think, is your archery range." The last map was the closest by far. Their stone-and-timber house sat among the trees. The collapsed outbuilding footprint, the holding stream, the shared northern cart track and the outer access route were marked around it. A long clear rectangle occupied one side of the working drawing.

Lethira looked at that shape, then towards the relevant part of the actual holding. "If you mean that open strip, it could be. That's roughly where I'd put a range: clear line, house out of the way, room behind the targets." She looked back down. "We haven't built one there yet, so I'm not giving your rectangle legal existence merely because you drew it." Her finger moved instead to the stream near the lower edge. "And this is the useful part after tonight. Your close map stops where our information stops. The river isn't inside the holding just because we want it to be." She handed the parchments back carefully. "I want to compare this one with the deed. If the clerk and your drawing disagree, the clerk wins until we find better evidence."

"I did, making things more real somehow. Shall we go into our little home?"

Lethira looked from the drawings to the real roof visible through the trees. "Yes."

"At least it's not covered in hearts, I showed some restraint." Ian followed her back home.

"I noticed." Lethira's smile returned as they crossed the familiar ground. "Very dignified cartography."

She glanced once towards the parchments. "Although if you ever add one heart, it had better be over the correct house."

At the door, she put her hand on the latch and looked back. The house was still pale stone, dark timber, a roof awaiting repair, too few chairs and a list of work that had not vanished because they loved it.

"Home."

Ian moved quickly to be in her arms and embraced her. Looking up slightly, he said, "I love you."

Lethira's hand left the latch and went around him. She drew him close; the bow at her shoulder shifted between them.

"I love you too." She bent to meet him and kissed him, slow and unhurried. When she drew back, her forehead rested briefly against his. "Come inside with me."

"Yes, my lady." Ian followed her lead.

Lethira opened the door and went in first. She set her bow aside, dealt with her muddy boots before they could mark the floor and looked towards the scarred table in the front room.

"Put the maps there. I want to see them together."

Ian laid the maps down right to left in increasing detail. He wrapped his arm around hers as she looked at them.

Lethira leaned into him, shoulder resting against his while her eyes travelled from the broad continent through the regional maps to the final drawing of the holding. Seen in sequence, the change in scale held her longer than any one parchment had.

"You really did keep narrowing it down." Her finger stopped over the little house on the final map. "I think I like this one best."

"Yes. Me too. Time for bed, my love?"

Lethira looked at the maps once more before turning into him. "Yes, my love." She gathered the parchments into a careful stack and left them on the scarred table, then took his hand.

"And maybe after a while, some sleep."

Lethira's look lingered. "After a while." They went upstairs together.