Wood Witch and the Bounty Hunter

Flora sat in front of a mirror and tried several times to remember how glamour spells worked. She had learned them when she was younger, but she never had to use it. When Ronan came out of the washroom, he saw her sitting there with her hair a vibrant shade of pink. Ronan raised a brow at her.

“The point was to stay out of sight,” he reminded her.

“I know,” she said miserably. “I was never good at this sort of thing. Elise was always better.”

She tried the enchantment once more, managing to dull the pink down to a manageable strawberry blonde. She wasn’t sure how long it would last before her dark hair started to peek through, but she would keep her hood up anyways.

Not that it mattered much. She was walking in Ronan’s massive shadow, following close behind him as he eyed the shopkeeps and looked for someone who might have had the information they needed without causing a problem. He eventually settled on a small blacksmith shop. He greeted the blacksmith upon entry, and the man didn’t even notice Flora until she squeaked a hello.

“We’re looking for a lightweight knife for traveling,” Ronan told him. “Nothing too fancy. Just good enough for self defense.”

The blacksmith peeked around Ronan at Flora, then looked back to Ronan.

“For her?” he asked.

“Yes, for her.”

“I don’t make ‘em that small,” he grunted. “Let me see what I have.”

He sorted through some finished blades until he found a thin and light one and handed it to Flora. It still looked fairly large in her hand, but it would be easy to carry.

“It’s nice,” she said, realizing the blacksmith was waiting for a response. “Um, very… sharp. And pointy.”

“I know it’s sharp and pointy,” he said, unamused. “How does it feel in your hand?”

“Good,” she said with an embarrassed blush. “I’ll get used to the weight.”

“It’s too bad,” Ronan said casually. “It’s so hard to find enchanters these days. I bet a weight enchantment would make her so much less clumsy.”

Flora shot him an annoyed glare, but the blacksmith laughed. She realized that Ronan was trying to establish a rapport with the man to see if he could get any information.

“Well, I know of one,” the blacksmith said. “Not here. Out in Northead. She’s a nasty little blonde thing with an attitude, but she does good work.”

Ronan cast a glance at Flora, and she gave him a look of affirmation. Nasty blonde with an attitude sounded like a pretty good description of Elise. It had to be her.

“Northead, huh?” Ronan said. “I don’t know. It’s pretty far out of our way. We’re headed west, to Folton.”

“Ah, shame.”

Flora’s eyes flit back and forth between them, impressed by Ronan’s casual misdirection in giving the blacksmith a false direction, just in case he tried to follow them. He pulled out some coins, handing them to the smith.

“We’ll take the knife,” he said. “There’s a little extra in there for a fitted sheath. Thanks for the help.”

The blacksmith gave him a nod and took the sheath out of a drawer, tying it around Flora’s waist. As they left the shop, it felt a little clumsy on her waist. She was sure she would get used to it, but Ronan seemed a little amused as he watched her. She was sure she almost saw him smile.

“Why are you walking like a duck?” he asked.

“I’m not,” she frowned. “I’m just not used to the weight.”

He stopped and she was startled when he took her belt and pulled her forward a bit. He tightened the belt around her waist, and she felt like she had better balance.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said, feeling a little breathless being so close to him.

That was a strange feeling. Rugged and handsome as he was, he did try to slit her throat not too long ago. And he wasn’t friendly, though she was starting to suspect he was putting on a front.

They walked to a pub and slid into a seat in the corner. Ronan ordered them a couple drinks and hot bowls of stew, and Flora stayed quiet and hidden. The barmaid gave her a brief, annoyed look, but flashed Ronan a flirty smile. He didn’t return it. He hardly even looked at her. When she walked away, Flora peeked up at him curiously.

“Are you married?” she asked.

“What?” he asked, brow furrowed. “No, I’m not.”

“Oh,” Flora said. “Well, do you have a lot of lady friends?”

“No,” he repeated, shifting uncomfortably. “Where is this line of questioning coming from?”

“Sorry,” she shrugged. “I was just wondering. Women keep smiling and batting their eyes at you, but you never really respond. Do you not notice them?”

“I don’t have time for that sort of thing,” he said bluntly. “Besides, they’re not really my type.”

“What’s your type?”

He gave her an annoyed look and she sort of sunk in her seat. Message received. Their food and drinks arrived a bit later, and Flora quietly nibbled at it.

“Sorry, I’ll stop,” she mumbled. “I guess I was just curious. I’ve never really been out and among people. Even in Lionsdale, I was there just to provide a service.”

“People aren’t so great,” he said.

“Some of them are,” she shrugged. “I always wondered what it would be like to have a lot of friends. And someone to love. I don’t know, it’s stupid.”

He didn’t say anything, but his expression was just a little bit softer. They ate in silence for a little bit, but Flora began to feel a little bit lightheaded. Ronan glanced up at her and seemed to notice something was off when streaks of her hair turned back to their natural black. Then things started to go wavy.

“I think… I don’t feel good,” she mumbled. “Can you get me some water?”

He opened his mouth to say something, but someone approached their table and his attention was redirected. They were only blobs now and their voices sounded like they were underwater, but there was some commotion and yelling as some sort of fight broke out. Then Flora’s head hit the table with a thunk.