You've Got Another Thing Coming

The quest for my betrothed brought me downstairs.

The ring was still held in a firm grip in one hand, whereas I clutched MacGuffin tightly between my body and aforementioned hand. I was too afraid to lose it again, so the choice to leave it behind had never really been an option.
Running along, I soon found my way back to the devouring-food-rapidly area, which is also known as the restaurant section of most inns. At one of the massive wooden tables a familiar set of gorgeous dark locks could be seen, and I scurried over there.

“Hey,” I panted, leaning one-handed against the table. “Have you seen Cherokee?”

Liam looked up from his cup of undistinguished liquid. “Yes, I saw him going out the door just a moment ago.”

He raised an eyebrow as I groaned loudly. “Are you feeling all right?” he wondered, putting his perfectly shaped hand over the one I was resting on the table and gave it a light squeeze. It was a slightly discomforting little sign of affection from his side that I'd never experienced before.

“Yeah, I just have to find him,” I said, as soon as the air that had hitched in my throat continued on its destined path down my lungs. I pried my hand free and heartily slapped down on Liam’s shoulder. “Care to help me?”

He smiled but shook his head. “Got my cup of…” he peered curiously into the cup. “Tea? Well, gotta finish it, anyway.”

“Righty-o,” I sighed. “Did you happen to catch which way he was heading?”

“Right, out the door,” answered Liam promptly. His face, nonetheless, expressed mild uncertainty. “Or… could have been left.”

“Left out the door?”

He considered the alternatives. “Perhaps it was straight ahead?”

“You mean, right out the door?”

“No, straight ahead.”

I paused. Liam took a sip from his cup and made a face.
“Ugh, I was wrong.” He frowned. “’s coffee.”

“Glad to hear it,” I replied absent-mindedly, staring at the doors that were clearly visible from this position in the room. Liam made yet another face and put his cup down. I glanced at him and felt the weight of MacGuffin under my arm. Yet, the feeling of the engagement ring in my hand was so heavy it should’ve had planets orbiting it.

“If you’re not doing anything special, Liam, would you mind keeping an eye on this thing for me?” I gently set MacGuffin down and pushed it carefully towards the soldier/priest/member of the resistance.

He didn’t so much as glance at it. “Your rattling, little package? Sure thing.” He took another sip, now prepared for the taste, and settled back into his chair. “You just go on and find your fiancé.”

I smiled hurriedly. “Thanks, Liam.” I seized the moment and gave his cheek a quick peck – as quick as I dared so as not to fall down in a happy hormone-induced coma – and jogged out the door. Looking left, right and straight ahead, I settled for something in between, which turned out to be slightly right, off-the-wobbly-wheel left and forward. This little route had me winding up in a place not very much unlike another damn meadow, but this was in fact the inn’s own private garden. It had me gasping from surprise. For a place so mediocre, the garden was a paradise on earth!

If Adam and Eve had a front yard in the Garden of Eden, I thought, this is what it looked like. There were trees and flowers and bushes, rocks and grass and even a small pond that purled in the distance. Colours and scents took over every other sense and had them down on their knees at gun point.
The initial impression was overwhelming!

I walked slowly, my original purpose forgotten for the moment, basking in the glory of nature.

To my surprise, I found him by the pond.
I’d followed the wonderful sound of a mass of water hitting another mass of water gently, and after pushing aside a couple of low-hanging willow branches I spotted a figure slumping by its roots, leaning against the tree.
He looked upset, at the very least, but had calmed himself down enough to sit down and glare ferociously at the fantastic view.

“Cherokee?” I quavered, against all right and reason. When he didn’t reply I embarked on a suicide mission: I walked over to his side and sat down. Cherokee refused to acknowledge my presence, so I wrapped my arms around my knees and made myself comfortable in a little nook conjured by roots and stock.

We sat in a silence only interrupted by bird song and streaming water, the tension building up between us like someone might construct a bunker when expecting tornadoes.

“They sound nice,” I finally dared stutter out. “The birds, I mean.”

Silence ensued. Then:
“No, they don’t.”

I glanced at Cherokee, but he was still not looking anywhere near me.
“What?” I said, eloquently.

“The birds don’t sound nice,” Cherokee spoke, his voice stiff. “It’s all territorial battle cries and mating calls along the way of ‘have sex with me, I can make my chest big and red!’”

My mouth fell open on its own accord. It wasn’t so much that he had spoken, but the words he said.
“They actually say that?” I wondered, momentarily stunned.

“Of course,” he sneered, shooting me a glare that made me thankful for my stupidity.

“How d’you know?” I ignored the glare and rejoiced in knowing the animal kingdom is as least as sex-crazed as the human one.

He sent me another glare that said a lot about my previous statement about stupidity. “I’m a fairy.” He pointed at his chest. “Being of the forest, yeah?”

“Ah,” said I and nodded knowingly. “So you talk to birds, then?”

This time he shifted his entire upper body to look at me, and look at me he did, viciously so.
“What is it that you want?” he growled, making me shrink back against the stock of the tree.
However, with me being me, I reeled quickly.
“I came to say I’m sorry,” I snapped at him. “I don’t know why, but obviously I upset you back there, and I apologize!”

“You don’t sound very sorry!”

I stuck my tongue out at him. “Don’t be such a baby, Cherokee!”

This was indeed a paradox, but when in Rome, do as the Romanians do.

“I’m not being a baby!” he snapped and stood up. Brushing the dirt off the back of his trousers, he then glanced down at me. The initial anger seemed to have subdued, but he was still slightly red in the face. Nevertheless, he held out a hand for me to grab.
“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s get back to the inn. We’ve got a lot of planning to do.”

I let him haul me to my feet, but kept his hand in mine once I was stable enough on my own two legs.

“Cherokee,” I said, seriousness oiling its way through my vocal chords. He met my eye, and for once, he didn’t look away.

“Look, I know this is hard for you,” I began, but fell short of words. I tried again. “I mean, I know that marrying me is not your ideal version of a perfect future. I just want you to know I understand how difficult this is for you – with your iron-bending belief in truth – to marry someone you’re not even a little bit partial to in order to save the world.” I inhaled, and clutched his hand tightly. “I want you to know how much I appreciate you doing it, though.”

Cherokee’s lilac eyes bore into mine. He extended his other hand.
“The ring,” he demanded. “Give it to me.”

My breath hitched in my throat and I felt that nice big lump of tears collect in my eyes while the grieving lump of rejection charred my stomach. Nonetheless, I produced the ring from my still-clenched fist, my face not giving away what I felt.
There was a red mark in the skin after it.

Cherokee subjected me to a long, hard stare which seemed to see right through me. I noted vaguely my pulse pounding furiously in my ears. Then, to my utmost shock, he fell down on one knee and held on tight to my left hand.

My eyes were the size of saucers. His eyes were narrowing in doubt of what he was about to do. However:
“I’ve made up my mind,” he said. “And it’s like this: we’re not alike, and we’re regrettably not too unalike; we’re both narrow-minded and silly.” And so my eyes narrowed too. “So maybe we’re not such a bad couple after all. Like you said; it’s worth a try.”

He held up the ring. It glistened in the gentle light and sent sparkles across his face.

“For world peace,” he said and then, very ceremonially, he popped the question: “Sarah Callie Johnson, will you marry me?”

The birds chirped their sexual needs and the wind blew pollen across the grass. The branches of the willow swayed in the breeze.

“For world peace,” I agreed, and added: “I do.”