Fennick almost trusted the Valley’s cosmic fire wall not to burn Esileif to a crisp. The keyword there was almost. He trusted it enough to escort her through, but not enough to simply meet her on the other side. Hestia, the last newcomer he’d escorted across the border, had been just fine. So, technically, he was batting at 100 percent. Granted, if this didn’t turn out so well for Esileif his average would be greatly diminished.

Fennick plastered a smile on his face and tried to look nonchallannt. The giant barrier of fire that separated the Valley from the rest of Beqanna was insurmountable protection. It detected intruders with ill intent and scorched them to kingdom come. Trusted Valley members carried a brand beneath their left eye. Fennick’s brand stood out starkly against his black hide, a cursive V with flicking flames in the middle. Members and welcome guests, like Esileif, could theoretically cross unharmed.

“Here we are, home sweet home.” Fennick’s attempt at casualness may have been obvious as he smiled up at the fire. Still, you had to appreciate the attempt.

“Don’t worry about the fire, it won’t burn you.” To prove his point, Fennick stepped through in front of Esileif, just so she knew this wasn’t an elaborate trap to burn her to a crisp.

On the other side of wall, the Valley was business as usual. It was still winter, and a thin layer of ice and snow scrunched underfoot. It was cold this high in the mountains, and though Fennick had gotten used to it, the sudden chill after the warmth of the flame caused him to puff his feathers up around him like a giant cloak. He watched Esileif’s face carefully, wondering if she was about to run back to the field or the Gates. As much as he loved his home, loved the bracing chill of the air and the scent of the tall towering tress, he knew it wasn’t for everyone. Fennick looked around with soft appreciation.

"So, what do you think?

Fennick felt his home settle around him like a cloak. Here, and perhaps only here, in rare snatches and glimpses, did he feel comfortable and settled. He knew he was not like most kings, and he knew equally well that many would hold him in contempt for it. It was a truth he had not yet accepted, but that he would soon enough. He accepted things slowly, and each new piece felt like a burden to a mind that longed for calmness and simplicity. They all fell into place eventually, when the young man realized he was in a sink of swim situation. He was starting to believe life was a long series of sink or swim moments. Good thing he knew how to dog paddle.

But still, there was a unique joy in showing Esileif around. He could show her his home, his kingdom. True, the Valley had always been his, and at the same time never would be. He was not built here, he was not sculpted from the trees and rocks. If the Valley belonged to anyone, it would be to Gallows, to Eight, and to those who had lived here for much longer than Fennick’s working memory. But still, the little part of him that was prideful was glad to be able to show Esileif around, and to feel ownership of something that was much, much greater and grander than himself.

Then of course, there was his tattoo. It was yet another of the millions of things he and Gallows needed to discuss. He had gotten his under Demian’s rule. It was a way to mark those loyal to the Valley. Fennick had taken his oath easily and with no hesitation. Wether he and Gallows would ask others to do the same was another question. He smiled softly, and dropped his head for Esileif to inspect. His sheepish smile quickly reappeared and tugged at the corners of his lips. His dark obsidian eyes stayed soft, but managed to look everywhere but her face. When she was done he rolled his shoulders in a shrug.

“It does. It would turn dark if I were to leave. That being said, I was bound for life long before Demian pulled out the branding iron. Such is the way of this place.” Just ask Gallows, she would have a lot to say on the virtues of the Valley. None of it would be objective. He wanted to tell Esileif whether or not she would need to take an oath of her own, but, he could not yet say. He put it on the list to discuss with Gallows. That list was growing longer by the minute. He hastily shoved the thought aside, before the panic at the task before him could be seen on his face.

She asked her next question, and it was no less difficult. He gave her a wry smile.

“You don’t like easy questions, do you? Shoot straight from the hip? I think you and Gallows would like each other.” He was teasing her, but he was also serious. His smile turned pensive as he gave the question the attention it deserved. He was tempted to say that the Valley would make a good home for anybody, but that would be a lie, and he wanted to tell her something real, something that meant something to him. After a moment he spoke, slowly at first, for he was trying to choose the right words.

“There’s a lot of work to be done here. There is a lot of ambition here, and we need to find a direction for it. There is room for someone with ambition to succeed. We’re a powerful kingdom, and we have a powerful ally. I’m not worried about defense, so we’re in the enviable position of creating a good offense. You could help shape the direction that takes.” Again, the big stallion shrugged, and he wondered briefly if he he sounded like a total nutter. That was absolutely possible. But, somehow, that didn’t worry him so much right now. The moment felt right and good, and Fennick knew better than to question that.

“Or, you know, if that’s not your thing we have a lot of nice grass and particularly fine trees. You could admire a new tree each and every day of your life and still have more to choose from.” Fennick would admit that didn’t sound particularity appealing to him. He had, of course, admired his fair share of the Valley trees, he just found other ways to occupy his time. But, he wanted to make sure Esileif knew all her options. The big stallion grinned boyishly.

No, there was nothing wrong with doing your homework. It was, in fact, the preferable way to do things. It was simply Fennick’s misfortune that life happened to him like a freight train happened to someone standing on the railroad tracks. Truly, it was lucky the kingdom didn’t rest solely in his hands. That would be an unprecedented disaster. Or, at least, he would have to search his soul and alter most of it. Neither destiny sounded particularly appealing. However, it was time Esileif met the Valley’s real puppet master. Fennick spoke in his head, for he figured Gallows would probably be listening anyways, or if she wasn’t, would hear something directly for her.

“Gallows, won’t you tell our guest about your vision? For I have none.” That wasn’t particularly true, he was going to try his best, but perhaps Esileif would benefit from another perspective. While he waited for Gallows to appear, Fennick turned his attention to Esileif’s other questions. His face, devoid of his immature humor, looked quite a bit older. He looked at the girl curiously, wondering how much he should say. He was not a diplomat, he didn’t understand the intricacies of kingdom secrets. He did, however, see something in her, something that looked that hunger. After a moment Fennick shrugged and went for it.

“You met Magnus in the field, yes? He’s a good man, I wouldn’t mind ten just like him.” That was very true. Magnus had made himself an unbearable pain in Fennick’s ass when it came to recruiting. The Gate’s man was loyal to his home. He was everything you wanted in a solider. That being said, all those great characteristics would do his kingdom little good. One good man did not an army make.

“I’m sure you know the Gates was recently attacked. That attack was launched by our ally. I can’t tell you the specifics, for I don’t even know them myself, yet. But the world is spoiling for a war, and I can promise you we’re on the winning side.” Fennick wasn’t blood thirsty, far from it. But, he didn’t like apathy, and he didn’t like weakness. His kingdom was neither of those things, and he wasn’t going to sit idly on his heels and watch the world pass by him. As far as he was concerned, there was far too much tolerance for complacency. Fennick would like to change that.