Their journey from Val Firmin took less time than she expected. They were there early, a day or two. They camped out of Val Chevin, far enough from the patrols. Going in was an unnecessary risk. Noria had curled up on the bedroll and she could feel Mairwen’s breath warm on the back of her neck. No nightmares. Her pace was peaceful. At least one of them slept. She couldn’t. Too much thinking.
Mairwen’s family... She trusted her enough to tell her about them. But what if the trip was in vain? What if they weren’t there? Could she trust Dakarai to take them into the city? She could, couldn’t she? He wouldn’t know. She would be just a person, looking for a job. She had done it before. She hoped they would be there. She didn’t want Mairwen to be disappointed.
First light broke out. She thought the night away. Didn’t matter. She took Mairwen’s arm and gently removed it from her waist, before rolling out of the blankets. The fire was no more. Theirs, at least. When she got up, she saw a trail of smoke in the distance. She stood up and looked for her things, glancing at it every once in a while, between putting on each article of clothing. She kissed Mairwen on the forehead before she took off. She would be back soon.
Bow in hand, she moved to the direction of the smoke, and once she walked up the hill, she stopped. Didn’t need to move further. Ahead of her was a sight to behold. Carts and tents, all brimming with colours. Most of them were still asleep, but they were there. Might have arrived in the middle of the night.
She came running back to their little camp and fell on her knees next to the bedroll. She brushed her auburn locks behind her ear and whispered softly. “Mairwen. Mairwen, love, wake up. We need to go.”