Miriel sighed when her father gave her a look that could chill fire and closed her mouth against any more protestations. She didn't want to be here as an offering for her family's failures, but she also didn't really have a choice. They said jump and she jumped despite protesting. Any resistance was met with swift and firm actions that applied so much pressure that she eventually caved. She supposed she could just run away, but what good would that do? Then she would be a slave to the world instead of a slave to her family. At least the latter provided food and shelter.

She closed her eyes and listened to the workers grunting outside of the carriage window as they worked to remove the debris. Miriel didn't know how much was blocking their path, but it seemed to be enough to cause some pretty substantial delays.

Terrific.

Now not only did she need to be paraded around distant relatives that she didn't care about, but she had to sit in this damned carriage longer than they already had. It was plush, yes, but that didn't mean that the long hours of travel were pleasant. The company certainly made it worse.

Time moved more slowly now than it ever had before. Without the delay they were probably about an hour or so away from Arca which seemed so close compared to the length of their journey up until this point, but now? Now she just had to wait. There were no bumps and jostles to keep her mind engaged, just the sound of her parents muttering together about how they were going to appear rude, or how Miriel herself was a disaster and a disgrace.

Oh joy.

"Kia help us they're taking so dammed long!" Her father cried suddenly after some time had passed and he stepped out of the carriage to manage or something. It wasn't like he was going to actually help. Heavens no, that was beneath him.

"Miriel, dear, sit up." Her mother snapped causing Miriel to blink absently in her direction and slump further into her seat.

"Miriel!"

"Oh hush, mother." She muttered so quietly that her mother probably hadn't heard anything other than what sounded like a sigh, but she listened and sat straight up with a dazed smile plaster on her face.

Better? she thought sarcastically as she stared silently at her mother with that absent grin never wavering.

Her mother made a loud, indignant noise before she, too, burst out of the carriage door to go and "oversee" the construction crews.

Good. Miriel preferred to be alone.

So she sat, quietly making calculations in her mind about how long it would take her to return home by foot. Would they even notice if she slipped out of the carriage and just left? The woods around them were dense enough that no one would really see her go and she'd be able to disappear into the brush. But....she also didn't really know where to go other than a general direction.

She sighed. No escape this time. She would be a perfect cage bird for their plans. Didn't matter, though, because her great uncle would most likely take one look at her and refuse whatever her father had offered. She wasn't good for that kind of family. She wasn't good for any family – that was something she had worked hard to ensure and was quite proud of the results.

But then the time went on and Miriel found herself surprised to note that she was growing bored and actually could do with a bit of walking around rather than continue to be cooped up, even if that meant spending more time looking at her parents and invoking their ire.

So she stood, opened the door, and stepped into the twilight. Her cotton travel dress swished as she moved – that had been the one thing she'd been allowed some level of decision, and even then it was only on the fabric. The embroidery screamed excess even if the dress itself was made from less expensive materials, but her arguments that traveling in satin was uncomfortable had at least been heard. Kia, she hated the excess...

Maybe she could just disappear and live with her sister? Her father wouldn't dare go and fetch her there....

Miriel had been so lost in thought that she hadn't really been paying attention to her surroundings and had managed to make her way to the edges of the forest and away from the carriage. She could make out what looked like people milling about the tree in the road, but it was difficult to see much else with the sinking sun to their backs.

Then she tripped on a tree root and stumbled further into the woods, barely catching herself on a nearby trunk before tumbling onto the ground. She gasped, clutching at the tree to right herself and glanced back to see what had caught her foot. She took a step forward, frowning, because she couldn't see a single tree that might have roots in the area she had come. The shadows were getting longer and it was difficult to see, so she stepped forward, using her feet to feel for whatever it had been and then...

Her slipped food pressed into something soft and it squelched.

She quickly brought her foot back and strained her eyes to see...

Oh Gods...that....that was a hand. A hand that...it....she couldn't see the arm where it should have been attached...she could only see the fingers, palm up, and a stump where the arm should have been.

She back against the tree and forced herself to take deep breaths. She needed to go back, which meant she needed to go past it, but she was frozen in place. What was happening? What had happened? What should she do?

The joke caused Theo to chuckle softly. "No," he continued, exhaustion evident in every vibration of his voice, "we're going the extra spicy route, no safeties just live or die, pass or fail climbing and jumping."

He knocked back the entire glass, wincing slightly at the burn before holding it out towards Fletcher with a sharp nod. His face looked deeply haunted and pale in the moonlight. Even the usual warmth of his eyes had dulled completely from when he had stepped out of his room all beautiful and put together.

"All I want to do is go home." Theo paused and swallowed roughly, his voice cracking some as he continued to speak. "But I'm afraid if I go home early everything will happen again and...I should have just stayed home. I feel like I'm falling apart at the seams and it's so pathetic. It's just a ball. It's just nobles partying and getting drunk and doing stupid things and I—am hating every minute of it.

"So yes, knock the udders off a cow and fill it up. Being engaged is even worse when it comes to this time of year. I regret everything."

Fletch wanted nothing more than to lean back against the balustrade and drop the act. Instead, he remained at a respectable distance, hands clasped behind his back again. He made certain to stand in such a way that no one indoors could see what he said or how he looked when he said it, though. "Wish you'd let me know in advance. I'd have brought some rope for you. Might seem suspicious carrying the missus' bedsheets through the party." Fletch frowned at the question. "I always have it, Theo. You know that. Why — need something stronger? Because it's punch. It'll already knock the tits off a cow."

His eye darted between the drink and Theo. His frown deepened. "We shouldn't stay out here for too long. Appearances and all. But...you're not okay, are you? It came back to you in the carriage."

He startled at Fletcher's presence, having been wrapped too deep in his own worried thoughts. "Sorry," Theo murmured softly while scooping up the glass and staring down into it.

"I just couldn't take another minute inside. Been contemplating if I could miraculously climb over the balcony to the next and the next until I found a quiet room to hide in." He snorted and shook his head, swirling the drink some before lowering his voice. "Did you bring your flask by any chance tonight?"

Fletcher hit the end of a laundry list of unique and silent ways to convey his unhappiness, and still he couldn't find Theo. He'd passed the girl at least two times, now. As he walked by her yet again, he started at the top with a low, irritated noise grating up his throat. He supposed it was a good thing he knew where she was. If he couldn't find either of them, he'd know there was trouble. Didn't change the fact that he hated the sight of her, though.

Finally, by sheer chance, he caught a glimpse of Theo out on a balcony. "That's not a chair," he muttered as he stepped out into the chill with the man's drink. He set it on the balustrade and promptly wrapped his arms around himself, shivering in the cold. "Bottoms up. 'S fucking freezing out here. Still better than putting up with them, though."

Theo bobbed his head in agreement. His gaze however lingered on the retreating man, taking in the strength but also the tension of his form. Fletcher was miserable, and likely more so than Theo himself. 

As he drifted through the room and eventually out onto a balcony rather than a chair as he had been instructed, Theo began to question once more what they were doing. His life was not Fletcher's. Would the other man accept the social finery and political dancing that came so often with comfort? Would he be able to stand balls like this? Or the questions that came with Theo being a perpetual bachelor? Would he want to be open one day when the Baron and Baroness were long gone? Would he want to forever remain a secret?

There were so many questions to be answered and they were nowhere near a place to be asking them yet in their relationship. Theo slumped in the shadow of the balcony corner and stared forlornly down below. How was he to balance all this? How could he best support the man he loved without crushing his spirit or driving him further away? He had never done this all before and he so earnestly wanted to get it all right. Fletcher deserved right. The way he spoke of the past, hinted at how things had been, or openly shared his scars, it all spoke to Theodore of a man that needed kindness and warmth and gentleness. Patience, Theo had in spades but how did he both protect and nurture a man in their current environment? How did he allow him to blossom while also dragging him down into the muck with him?

They needed to talk. They really, really needed to talk and soon. 

Fletch snorted at the thought. He'd never seen Theo truly drunk. The closest the man had gotten — that he knew of, anyway — was on that awful wine he'd dug out from beneath the floorboards. And while this was hardly the venue to test him when, Fletch would never turn someone down for needing to drink their misery away. "A man can dream," he replied.

He stood there rigidly, scanning the room as he spoke, before his eye finally rested back on Theo. His ire calmed, his expression was now carefully controlled, though his clenched jaw gave away just how much he hated this, too. "Why don't you go and find yourself a seat, sir?" he suggested. "I'll find you a stiff one and be back shortly."

He nodded his curt guardsman's nod, still hoping that Theo would see past the act just as he tried to see past Theo's. Then, as if afraid to linger there, he marched off in search of wherever these horrid people kept their refreshments table.

Poor Lin looked heartbroken when it seemed that Goblinda didn't recognize her. She seemed to have forgotten everything. 

Morthil could tell that Lin probably needed comfort. He was beginning to make his way over to Lin when he was snatched off the ground and found himself in the goblins arms again. 
"Listen this isn't necess—" his sentence was cut off because Goblinda was holding him quite tightly.
His ears laid back, he gave Goblinda the most exasperated side eye he could.
"I am most certainly not hers! I am my own man....cat....thats besides the point!" 
Then he remembered that she's probably been through a lot worse. She was close to death. She was the reason he was alive. 
"Do you...remember anything? The village...the goblins...you actually rescued me," Morthil explained, gratefulness in his voice. Maybe telling her what had happened would help jog her memory. 
"And then your friend Lin nursed us back to health. You were close to death."
Morthil looked at Lin. 
"Do you know if anything was left of my village?"

He snorted softly. "Not worth muddying your hands," he replied back through his teeth. The blush returned though at the reminder of mistletoe and Theo avoided Fletcher's eyes hoping to avoid explaining that one.

A drink though, it was foolish but it sounded like an excellent excuse to escape this show. "A big one. Maybe if I get stupid and drunk I can go home." Theo nodded with a deep sigh. "Yes please."

Fletch barely followed their conversation. He didn't want to pay attention to it at all, mind, but he thought Theo was worth keeping a closer eye on. The man wasn't in a good state, and Fletch would no doubt be adding to his misery here and there as he kept up the act.

"I'll drag you into your own grave, woman," he muttered beneath his breath as the girl made her retreat to burden some other poor sod with her grating presence. He turned to Theo, his irritation lingering. "The bloody hell is missile-toe? Sounds awful. Erm. You look like hell. Do you need a drink? I can find you one."