“Oh… Reggie. Hi.” Tork’s posture was stiff, and he had trouble looking at his son, who was ignoring him coolly after his less than pleasant greeting.

“Good evening Ms. Ora.” Reggie nodded politely to the Beast Awares, who returned the gesture, and then turned his gaze to Aggie and Arlen.

“Who are you two?”

Arlen stepped forward, and opened his mouth to introduce himself and Aggie as brother’s, when Tork cut in.

“Fugitives. That there is Lady Agnes Beatha, and she is the betrothed to Sean O’Farrel. She is currently trying to run away from him, and her weird looking companion is her servant. His name’s Arlen.” Arlen clamped his mouth shut, and gave Tork an incredulous look.

“For fucking- What the hell dad?!” Reggie finally locked eyes with Tork, who looked resigned to a verbal beating. After a moment, Reggie seemed to give up trying to find the words, and so instead, he reeled back to Aggie and Arlen.

“I thought the fiancé of the Duke was lying in her chamber bed on death’s doorstep! Not standing in our fucking courtyard!” Tork winced, but it was Aggie who stepped forward, taking her hat off of her head to reveal her long hair.

“Excuse me, sorry to cut in, but did you say that people think I’m ill?” Reggie fixed Aggie with a withering look, but she pretended not to notice, and stared at him right in his frightening eyes without wincing.

Despite the boy’s knowledge of her situation, and his intimidating glare, Aggie didn’t feel afraid of him. She had no idea why, but it might have been because it was Tork’s son, and he seemed… young. As though he were in the midst of his teen years. It was hard to tell with Beast Awares at times.

“Yeah. Everyone is gossiping about how she must’ve been poisoned by Duke O’Farrell’s enemies, or that she is broken hearted over marrying an old man, and not her true love.”

Aggie’s eyebrows shot up, and everyone other than Reggie looked far more amused.

“And who might my true love be?” She asked barely maintaining her composure to ask the question.

Reggie felt as though he was being teased, and wasn’t taking kindly to it, so it was with no small amount of embarrassment that he gestured to Arlen.

“I don’t know? That guy? Are you running off with your servant?”

This time Aggie did burst out laughing, as did Tork. Ora and Arlen exchanged nonplussed expressions, as their companions laughed until they cried.

“What is so fucking funny?!” Reggie’s hands were balled into fists, and his expression was clearly one of hurt.

“Mind your mouth there! I’ll be telling your ma that you are due for a couple wallops there.” Tork was grinning at his son, but the smile was not returned. Aggie slowly righted herself, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Sorry Reggie, I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Well you succeeded without much effort.” Reggie muttered acidly.

Aggie’s lightened expression faded, and she fixed Reggie with a far more contrite gaze. Arlen had to marvel at the mastery of her controlled mask.

“I am sorry. You’re right; it was a reasonable question.” Reggie frowned, but nodded in acceptance of the apology. Aggie didn’t notice, but Tork’s expression was somewhat outraged at the exchange. Only Arlen noticed this, and he began to suspect that Reggie was not one to forgive hurt pride easily. Much like his father.

“Reggie, this here is my Servicer. Until I free him, he has no free will of his own.”

“We also are unable to feel love while bonded.” Arlen chimed in, ignoring the unsavory color Aggie was painting him. His Mistress whirled around startled.

“You never said you couldn’t even feel love! For fuck’s sake, how do you not see that you are a slave? Even your emotions are subdued!” Arlen was beginning to get angry with the amount of the flack his kind had been receiving over the past few days, when Reggie jumped in.

“Okay, so you didn’t run away for love. Why did you do it?” Aggie was saved having to answer by Tork, who gently placed a hand on Reggie’s shoulder. While the action did silence him, he quickly pulled away from his father’s touch, and refused to look at him.

The awkward moment passed, with many unspoken emotions coming to light. Tork looked at the ground, then sighed, and turned towards the group of onlookers who watched with a mix of pity, and curiosity.

“We can discuss this in more detail later. For now, I think we all need a hot meal. Aggie and Arlen, go bathe. Ora and I have been too polite to say anything before now, but you two stink worse than horse shit.”

With that, Tork disappeared into the house through a heavy oak door with black hinges. The door was directly across from the entrance from the alley, and was the only point of entrance to the house from the area.

Reggie mumbled something darkly that only Ora seemed to hear, and she crossed her arms and gave him a cross expression. Reggie quickly ducked his head in apology for.

“Alright, you lot, follow me.” The young Beast Awares seemed resigned to his guests, and without another word, they filed into the house with his lead.

It didn’t take long for Aggie to begin to wonder about how lucrative it was to become a bounty hunter after all.

*

Tork and Ora sat in front of the fire, a glass of mead in each of their hands, sighing after a large satisfying dinner of roast beef and vegetables.

A hot meal, and 2 comfy chairs in front of a fire in Tork’s study, was all he had dreamed of for weeks. He was more excited than words could express at the idea of sleeping in his own bed that night. He knew that it was a sign of his age, that he was finding it harder and harder to rough it in the woods.

“Now Ora, I think it’s time you explain a little bit more about what you meant earlier.” Tork glanced at his companion, and saw that though her eyes were drooping in exhaustion, she nodded.

Tork gestured with his hand to the pad of paper and quill on the small end table between them, and waited for her to pick it up. In his home, he always made sure Ora had ample supplies of paper and ink, and she appreciated this gesture greatly.

Once Ora had picked up the paper, and dipped the quill in ink, she looked at Tork to begin.

“You said that it is possible…?” He began slowly, trying to kept the excitement in his voice contained.

Ora nodded.

“How is it possible?”

She shrugged. Tork frowned, and then went on.

“How do you know it is possible?”

It was then, that Ora hastily put the quill to the parchment, and drew 2 stick figures, and a tiny stick figure baby. She circled the stick figure that wore a skirt, and then wrote a single number: 1.

“It’s happened once before to a female Servicer? The family wasn’t slaughtered?”

Ora nodded.

“Why not? Did they come to an agreement? Where are they now?”

Ora frowned, and lowered her quill to the bottom half of the page. She drew a bush, and a stick woman with the baby.

“The mother hid her child?”

Ora bobbed her head in confirmation.

“What about the father? He must be someone incredibly important to get away with such an act.” Ora shook her head, and all of a sudden froze. A sudden realization seemed to cross her mind.

“Do you know the father?” Tork was on high alert; the idea that there was a mix-breed Servicer in the world was… almost as unrealistic as him turning into a full-blooded human. To think that there was a being powerful enough to disobey The Ruling Family was mind-blowing.

Ora shrugged slowly.

“You might know the father, but aren’t certain?”

She nodded.

“Does anyone know where the mix-breed is?” Ora was about to continue drawing, but Tork closed his eyes firmly and waved away his own question.

“I mean of course they don’t know where the child is. I suppose if this was a rumor that people have heard, then the Ruling Family would’ve already investigated and sought retribution for the discrepancy.”

Ora didn’t make any gestures, instead she began drawing again, and this time, she just drew the mother looking sad, and completely alone.

“… The infant died? The father abandoned her?”

Ora shook her head, then drew a baby with wings flying off.

“Someone stole the child?” Ora shook her head again.

“It just… disappeared?”

Ora nodded.

Tork leaned back in his chair, and sighed. After a moment of silently watching the flames, he stroked his face, and turned back to Ora.

“I’ll be honest, I wondered about Arlen not being a full Servicer. He’s more… expressive than others of his kind, and he doesn’t learn as quickly. It would’ve made sense if he had a father that was of a different race, but he was raised with the Servicer’s. He was never missing from the sounds of it. I’m confident that they wouldn’t have raised him knowing he was a mix-breed.”

Ora nodded, and then proceeded to draw lines, arrows, and a sundial.

“This happened a long time ago.” Tork finally realized what she was trying to say.

Ora nodded again; this time her eyes closing as she did so.

“I suppose that confirms it.” He said with a weary breath.

“Ah well… He still is a unique Servicer.”

Tork smiled to himself, and then turned to watch the flames dance in front of his eyes.

Perhaps the bounty hunter was too curious for his own good. He also knew he had a certain soft spot for those imprisoned or enslaved, and there was something about the young Servicer that endeared Tork. Something about his uncertainty, and his inexperience. He had never trusted The Ruling Family, and had always felt there was something incredibly suspicious about their whole kind.

His conversations with Arlen in the woods had done nothing to change that opinion either. The only piece of evidence that they weren’t secretly manipulating world affairs and creating emotionless monsters, was Arlen himself. The Servicer who struggled with feeling inadequate in his position, and wanted to see his Mistress succeed in her crackpot ideas.

Aggie in all of her youthful foolishness, immediately jumped to his mind. She was naïve, impulsive, and stubborn, and Tork liked her a lot for some reason.

More than he would ever admit.

He wasn’t sure if it had been the fact that she hadn’t whined and complained about journeying on foot, or the lack of food, or about being sick. Perhaps it had been when she had sworn to free Arlen with all the conviction of an Empress declaring battle.

She had grit, and integrity, and Tork wasn’t entirely angry that he would get to work with her for an entire year. There was something about her that made things more interesting. The girl brought with her the air of change, and Tork felt as though he had a front row seat to whatever that change may be.

*

Aggie felt as though she were glowing as she let her limp wet hair dry by the warm kitchen fire, while sitting on a plush ottoman. She was full of food and drink, was given a soft shift to sleep in, and she was clean.

Aggie smiled to herself, and was beginning to feel as though she was going to fall asleep sitting up, when she felt someone’s presence enter the kitchen.

Feeling completely safe, she kept her eyes closed as whomever it was, sat down on a long bench that ran alongside the long kitchen table.

“I brought a salve for your blisters.” Aggie opened her eyes, and turned with a smile towards Reggie.

“Your Servant, Arlo, or whatever sent it to you. He’s sleeping now though, something about needing to be up early.”

Aggie accepted the small jar from Reggie gratefully, before casting a glance down at her bare feet that were peppered with popped blisters. She hadn’t really noticed them until the boots had come off for her bath, and then once in the hot water she definitely had felt them with all of their stinging and burning.

When Aggie had left the bath water, it had been gray, and she had decided not to think too much about what it was that was coming off of her body that was that color.

“Thank you, and his name is Arlen.” She said softly staring at him contently.

Reggie gazed directly at her, and held her stare for a moment before shaking his head. He hadn’t realized how green her eyes were before.

“Don’t mention it.” As Aggie began applying the salve to her wounds, and Reggie didn’t move, she decided she might as well answer his question from the courtyard.

“I ran away because he was a bully, and I wanted my freedom.” She said the words without looking up from her work. Reggie didn’t say anything for a while, but seemed to be thinking a lot of things.

“He would be dead long before you.” He pointed out cautiously. Not wanting to incur a Lady’s wrath.

To his surprise however, Aggie laughed quietly.

“If I didn’t die in childbirth you mean.” She shook her head.

“I don’t want to take any gamble on my life for that kind of man. He condemned me to my room and the dining hall within 2 days of meeting me. Least of all, on the night of our engagement dinner, called me a ‘bitch’ in front of all the guests. I’ve heard that he is a fierce leader, and that he shows fairness to those beneath him, but that was not the case with me. Therefore, I don’t mind living like a commoner, if it means I don’t ever have to see him again.” Aggie sighed, and finally raised her eyes to Reggie who had a pensive look on his face.

“Where will you go?”

Aggie stood up as she capped the salve, and continued staring at Reggie with a tender expression. She felt an unspoken understanding of Reggie. His blatant anger towards his father, and his critical view of the world, was like many of Aggie’s peers back home. The other Ladies she had known went through similar troubles, and it made Aggie for the first time in a long while, feel a little homesick.

“I’m afraid I can’t say. I have things to do before I stop anywhere though. I have to learn more about survival, how to defend myself, and I have to free Arlen.” She grew weary just from listing it all.

Reggie looked as though he had more questions for her, but she smiled and bowed her head.

“Sorry Reggie, you’ll have to excuse me. It’s been a very long journey, and I am quite looking forward to sleep, but thank you for the salve.”

“O-Oh, it was nothing!”

Aggie smiled again, and then gracefully floated out of the room.

*

Aggie awoke the next morning, feeling as though she had been hit by a runaway carriage.

“Those fucking hills….”Aggie thought to herself while rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms.

Her body had very clearly decided that once it was in a bed again, it would use the time to remind her that she was straining its non-existent muscles.

It was with great effort, that Aggie opened her eyes, and when she did, she jumped at the sight of Arlen laying out clothes on the small bench at the foot of her bed.

“Arlen!” She squeaked before pulling the covers up higher. He didn’t even bother lifting his gaze until he had finished placing down a pair of boots that Aggie didn’t recognize.

“My Lady, we will be training down in the courtyard within the hour, I recommend you rise and dress if you want to eat beforehand.” Aggie’s still sleeping brain barely had time to register what Arlen had said.

“I-I thought you said you’d call me Aggie!” She called at his back, but he didn’t bother with turning around to answer her.

Aggie moaned, and closed her eyes. She still felt as though she could’ve slept for the entire day, but knew that wasn’t something her life allowed anymore. So with far more effort than normal, Aggie sat up, and touched her toes down on the warm hardwood floor.

The room she was in was tiny, but managed to fit a nightstand, a double bed, and a bench at the footboard. All the furniture was made of pale willow tree wood, but the floors of the house were pinewood that was stained a golden hue that glowed in the morning light.

The quilt on Aggie’s bed was made of various reds and blues, and reminded her of the stories she used to love reading. Stories about magic, and heroes… The quilt in particular, reminded her of the beautiful artwork in a story about a woodcutter living in the forest she had read when she was a child.

As Aggie stood, she could hear the soft padding of a woman’s gait pass her doorway.

There was a staff of 3 for the whole house. A maid, and the maid’s daughter, were in charge of cleaning the whole house, washing the linens, and drawing baths.

There was also a cook that Aggie hadn’t been able to glimpse the night before.

The maid’s daughter seemed to be like an assistant, as her mother bossed her around to every duty that needed to be accomplished, and it was her that Aggie believed to be hovering around Aggie’s door so that she could go in, and tidy up.

Aggie hadn’t had a chance to talk with the serving staff, as Tork had dominated their attention and time with orders and questions on the state of the house.

Tork’s… wife… or girlfriend (it was not abundantly clear to which it was), did not seem to be in the same County, let alone the same house. Though there was no doubt that she was alive and well given the way she was talked about.

The clothes Arlen had laid out for Aggie, seemed to be tailored for her better than the ones that she had been wearing on her journey. The trousers fit her legs a little tighter, the green tunic wasn’t excessively large, and she didn’t have to punch new holes into the belt at her waist.

Even the brown leather boots were exactly her size!

Aggie was ready to hug whomever had found her these items as she skipped down to the kitchen where the cook, who turned out to be a Beast Awares-human mix, was preparing breakfast.

The cook looked like a petite elderly woman in everyway, except with antennae, and an extra set of human arms. Her gray hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and she was dressed plainly in a black dress, a white apron, and small round spectacles at the end of her nose.

“Morning!” Aggie cheered as she stopped in front of a heaping plate of sweet buns.

“May I?” She asked the cook, who waved one hand in wordless consent.

Aggie grabbed a bun, and then walked far more slowly towards the courtyard. The doorway to the courtyard was only a few feet from the kitchen, and just beyond that doorway were the stairs to one of the upper levels of the house where Aggie was sleeping.

Aggie had finished her bun and was licking the sweet remains from her fingers, when she stopped out in the courtyard.

It had been transformed into a training ground overnight.

There were now 2 wooden scarecrow dummies stuffed with straw, bales of hay with painted targets on them, and an open chest that was filled with everything from massive battle-axes, to daggers.

“Alright there Beatha, show me your defenses!” Tork hollered from where he stood with Arlen, weighing a hatchet and a sword in his hand.

Aggie grinned, and walked over to them as Tork thrust a long slim staff at her. The staff was far smaller in circumference than the branch she had been using before in the woods, but it felt like it’d be easier to maneuver.

Arlen barely spared her a glance, as he began to show more complicated movements and sets for Tork to appraise.

Tork looked surprised at the agility and grace of Arlen’s moves at first, but seemed to come to a conclusion in his mind, and then resumed his focus on Arlen’s footwork.

Aggie stepped over to her own dummy, and began going over her defenses, even though every muscle in her seemed to weep with movement.

*

It was approaching lunch hour, when Tork finally meandered over to Aggie, whom had been growing bored of the same movements over and over again. He had only instructed her to refine each movement slightly every time, which seemed wasteful of energy to her.

“Alright there, we’re going to have you give hatchet throwing a try.” Tork said handing Aggie the small axe with his oak wood handle.

“Now what I want you to do, is stand with your right leg back… good. Now what will happen, is you are going to take the handle with both hands, like so, and rock back onto your right foot. Exactly.” Tork coached, watching her closely.

“Now lift the hatchet back with both arms, arms bent, and you will rock forward with that motion, then release the hatchet. You will feel the balance point to release the weapon, once you can sense your aim line up to your target.”

Aggie wasn’t sure why, but the movement reminded her of dancing. So much so, that she found herself pointing her left foot as she rocked back onto her right foot. Everything about the flow of movement made sense to her, as she then rocked forward, and with that momentum, loosed the axe at her target.

She wasn’t overly surprised to see it land in the middle of the target, but that didn’t mean Tork and Arlen felt the same way.

“That was… strange.” Tork said eyeing Aggie oddly. “Beginners luck maybe, try it again.”

Aggie shrugged, and then retrieved the hatchet from the target.

Arlen had paused his training to watch, his expression unreadable.

Then she did it again.

And again.

And again.

She missed the middle by half an inch the 5th try, but by then, she wasn’t sure she could lift her arms again anyway.

“I have never seen someone pick up hatchet throwing that easily.” The admiration in Tork’s tone made Aggie blush as she placed the weapon back in the trunk, and turned to stare at both Tork and Arlen.

Arlen’s lips were pursed, and he was studying Aggie in a way one would examine complicated blueprints. It was incredibly uncomfortable for her, as she felt as though she were being stared at as something non-human.

“Well, I suppose we all have that one thing we’re good at.” Aggie shrugged then rolled her shoulders with great difficulty. That seemed to break the concentration of her coach and Servicer, so she brightened her expression.

“So, what’s for lunch?”