After gathering himself once more, Miklian strode purposefully from the tent and made a mental note to find some way to protect himself from her kicks going forward. Her power always surprised him. As he walked through the camp, an elvish woman came crying to the guardsmen and he overheard some of what she was wailing about; her brother was being chased out of town by an angry mob.
The goblins who were meant to guard the town border shrugged to each other and let her continue crying without doing anything, but Miklian could feel his blood boiling.
"Madam, come here." He spoke directly to the elf who immediately pushed her way past the guards to stand before him, weeping. "Your brother is being attacked. Why?"
"The townspeople, they think-think he's a witch!" she stumbled over her words slightly as she cried helplessly. "Please! You ha-have to help him! He's not safe! He ran into-to-to the woods south by th-the cliff!"
Just as he glanced up to the entrance of the camp, he caught a glance of his human running away in a new dress and new shoes. She seemed to be heading south.
------------------
As soon as Wynessa heard what was going on, she turned and ran straight to try to find the elvish man who was being hunted, quickly falling in behind what appeared to be a true angry mob. Many of them had tools or weapons and it seemed they were being led by a very pregnant woman.
"There he is! Come down, witch man, or we'll burn the tree too!" The pregnant woman called up to the branches of a tree.
"I've told you, I'm not a witch! And what's more, if you set this tree on fire you'll be setting the entire forest ablaze! I'm not coming down, Rowan! You can't make me!" A squirrely voice called down to the mob from the branches above where Wynessa could see. Before she could do anything further, one of the mob threw a shoe up into the tree. "You missed! If you want your shoe back, promise you'll go home!"
"Is there a problem here?" A voice called to the mob from behind and above Wynessa causing her to jump slightly until she realised it was Miklian with a few of the town guard in tow. He seemed to be expressly speaking to the pregnant woman, though before she could respond an older woman stepped out from behind the giant with her arms crossed. "Alderman Ginnow said this is not the first time you have harassed this young man. Is that correct?"
The pregnant woman's face grew red, but she couldn't honestly say if it was from embarrassment or frustration as she stormed over to the older woman. She was steps away from jabbing the alderman in the chest with an outstretched finger before a goblin stepped forward to keep them apart.
"Mother, you said you would let me handle this!"
"That was before you deemed it necessary to chase the poor boy up a tree trying to kill him! Rowan, you know our laws. Even if he is a witch, he has to have a trial." The elder woman's voice was clear and resounding, making sure the rest of the mob heard her as well.
"He cursed my baby!" The one called Rowan screeched.
"I did no such thing!" The voice from the branches cried out, aghast. "I said that I wish your child many curds of milk and many varieties of taste!"
"You see?! Curdling milk is a terrible fate for a baby!" Rowan turned to the giant who stood witness to the entire scene, "Good sir, please understand, that elf is a threat to the entire town! If there's anyone here who would wish ill on our protectors and benefactors, it would be the same elf who wishes ill on a baby, my lord!"
Wynessa could not believe the scene happening before her, and neither could Miklian. This woman, obviously nearing the end of her pregnancy and wits, was so convinced of the terror that was the elf she had chased into a tree that she had tried to kill him and was asking for the blessing of a giant. Not just any giant, a visiting captain.
"I believe the Alderman should join Captain Trian and I for dinner so we may discuss the fate of the elf. In the meantime, this mob is an illegal congregation and needs to disperse. Go home." His command was clear as he glared dangerously at the group who respectfully began to filter back towards the town, bowing to the captain as they passed.
Rowan was escorted home by the alderman and the remaining guards before a peep was heard from above them.
"I'm still not coming down until I know for a fact that I'm not going to die to a crazy pregnant lady as soon as my feet touch the ground." Wynessa smirked before looking up at her giant. Her giant? What was she thinking?! No. The giant. Just the giant. Miklian watched her expression carefully as the smile quickly flew from her features before she stepped closer to the tree to see what all the fuss was about.
Above her in the branches sat a colourfully-clad young man with pointed ears and tanned skin that spoke of years of hard work in the sun. She couldn't quite tell, but his hair looked to be the same as harvested wheat.
"Is there some assurance we could give you that would be convincing enough?" She called up to the tree-bound elf.
"Not especially, but if you would be so kind, could you return this shoe to the baker's wife? She does not have the best of aim." He held the slipper out and dropped it into Wynessa's hands before continuing. "Also, may I know the names of my saviours?"
"The giant who spoke up for you is Captain Miklian, and I'm Wynessa Lyrdottir." She called up to him, not realising this was the first time Miklian had heard her name. Suddenly, he thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world to hear her say his name and hers was just as sweet.
"Good Gods, I've lost my mind." Miklian muttered before he turned and rested his head against the trunk of a nearby tree.
"Saved by a captain! Gracious me, I must have used all my luck today. Well, I'll be here if you need me. Hopefully we can meet face to face before I'm burned as a witch." The joking tone from the voice above made Wynessa chuckle softly before holding up the shoe.
"I'll be back as soon as I can." She turned and moved to head off back to town, noting Miklian leaned against a tree with his eyes closed. "Are you..."
"Hm?" He stood upright once again, looking her over before nodding, "Yes. I am alright. I like that dress, by the way. It suits you."
"It... What?" She looked at the plain and almost boring dress she had been gifted before looking back to the giant quizzically.
"Nevermind! Forget I said anything. You should get that to the baker's wife." He turned and put his head against the tree once again, his face flushing a deep blue. He listened carefully as she sped off towards the town. After he was sure she was gone, he slammed his head forcefully into the tree. "Ugh! What is wrong with me!?"
"Sounds to me like you want her." The voice from the branches called down to the giant sympathetically. "Don't worry, my friend. Your secret is safe with me."
Miklian stood with his thoughts for a few more moments before he walked over to the tree where the elf was hiding and glared up at him before sitting down at the base of the tree.
"If I told you that I've never felt about anyone the way I feel about her, would you laugh?"
"Of course not, my friend! You are, after all, the one who saved my life and I can assure you love is a fickle funny thing." The jovial elf called down to him.
"I don't love her! That would be-"
"Would be what? Silly? Love is silly, good man. That's part of why it's got so many songs about it. Love is a strange, ever evolving taste, like a good wine, or a fine cheese. It may start out as something simple, something you never expected, like milk and salt, but after a while-" He pinched his fingers and kissed them loudly, "Perfection!"
"Love is like... Cheese?" Thoroughly confused, Miklian tilted his head up to glance at the man in the tree. "But that doesn't make any sense. I can't win her, so what's the point?"
"Win her? What do you mean, my friend?"
"I mean..." he sighed leaning back further against the tree as he settled in to explain, "I guess it's different here, but back home in order to win a bride, a male has to fight against other men who also want that female's affection. If you can't win her challenge, you lose and she loves someone else. My mother keeps trying to convince me to find a wife, but no matter what the challenge, I keep failing. I can't win, so what's the point trying?"
A silence permeated the forest until the voice of the elf from above spoke directly in front of where the giant sat. "You shouldn't worry so much about that. It appears miss Wynessa does not fully trust you yet, so start there. Befriend her, but be a true friend to her first. After that, perhaps things will grow."
"But what if I'm not good enough?" Miklian sighed softly, not looking up at first until a gentle hand placed on his shoulder. Suddenly he was met face to face with the elf who appeared to be floating midair on a cloud of pale yellow fluff, like a cloud, much like the shadows the warlocks shrouded themselves in but more like sunshine. "Hooooooooooooooooooooow are you doing that?"
"Oh. Erm, yes, I should clarify. I'm not a witch, I promise. I'm a half-elf. My mother was an elf, my father was a warlock. Not entirely sure how, but hello, I'm both, but that's enough about me, we were talking about you."