Gaalin gently carried the unconscious girl in his arms, cradling her light weight against his chest as he tried to shield her face from the heavy rain with her head against his shoulder. The group of guards walked eagerly from the inn, into the dark streets of Edinburgh, with the only light coming from the single torch one of them held. None offered him a cloak to try and keep dry from the weather, and none offered him an opportunity to speak in the conversation.
"The king is bound to be excited for this news. A slayer! Oh, how rich will we be?"
"Rich enough for me to spend the rest of my days comfortably in the arms of the most beautiful of women."
One laughed, "I know your tastes. They're neither beautiful, nor women."
The guard elbowed his colleague. "Quiet you!"
"How much do you think the King will give us? Last I heard, it was rumored to be your entire weight in gold and jewels!"
"Do you think he will pay us each our weight?"
"If he don't, I'd hate to have to split it amongst you idiots." They snorted. "I guess I'll just have to kill you and take the reward for myself."
They laughed, rushing down a narrow alley way with Gaalin trailing behind. They turned twice more before reaching the cobblestone stairs leading to the dwelling of the King, King of Edinburgh. A fat, old, lazy bastard who couldn't do a damn thing himself. Instead, he bribed those amongst him to fight his battles for him. It was due time for a new King to take his place, and it was only a matter of time as the few people who were of noble ancestry were becoming increasingly tired of his corruption.
The guards reached the main entrance and knocked firmly against the doors, and then they waited for an answer. In the cold rain, it felt much longer than what it was in realty. Soon though, an elderly woman answered with an armed man beside her, he pulled the large door open and she remained just inside the threshold, blocking their entry. Her posture tall, proud, arrogant.
"The king is not taking any visitors, are you not aware of the hour?" She hissed, much like old, angry women do.
The eldest among the guard stepped forward. "Aye old hag, we are aware of the hour. But this is of the utmost importance, it is something our King must see at once."
The woman glared at the man, "What is so important that you expect me to wake the king at this late hour?"
"A slayer." The guardsman said.
The old woman's mouth gaped, her gaze moving past the men to Gaalin who still stood behind them with an irritated expression and an unconscious girl in his arms. She gestured for them to enter, waving her hand rapidly and pushing the armed man out of her way.
"Come in! Come in!" She said, "A slayer is most important news!"
The guards stood near the large wooden pillar beside the massive door, accepting blankets and warm drinks from rushed maids. Gaalin however, remained at the doorway dripping rainwater onto the floor from his clothing. The old woman spoke to the men briefly, then rushed towards Gaalin.
"Dark elf, hand the child over to me!" She snapped, as if Gaalin's mere presence were enough to harm the girl. She walked hurriedly until she stood in front of him, her arms outstretched and ready to carry the young one, and then she froze.
"Oh." She said.
"What?" He asked.
The woman's excited expression turned to one of disgust. "It's an elf." She looked back at the guards. "You didn't say it was an elf."
They shrugged, "It's still a slayer, we witnessed it's powers. It's gifts. Nearly half the city did at the inn."
The old woman sighed, lowering her arms and stepping away from Gaalin. "It's dirty, filthy. It stinks. It will need a bath before being presented to the king."
Gaalin's brow twitched.
"Look at it!" The woman practically shouted. "It's covered in blood and bruises, how can you expect me to present such a thing to the King! He will be very displeased, even if it is a Slayer!"
The guards all looked amongst themselves and then shrugged. "That's for you to figure out woman. We found the slayer, we just want our reward."
The armed man who answered the castle doors with the old hag stepped forward, his hand on the hilt of his blade. "We will handle things from here. If the child is truly a slayer, it will be presented to the king, if he decides a reward is necessary, I shall have a messenger come to find you."
The guards grumbled, and one spoke. "I think we deserve our reward now."
The man's weight shifted and his grip on his blade changed. "We will send word."
Gaalin watched the exchange, listening to the guardsmen and the servants of the king go back and forth. Then he felt the small child shift in his arms. His eyes darted downwards, his red gaze meeting bright blue pupils. Her eyelids seemed heavy, but her stare remained on him for several moments. The two completely ignored by the individuals arguing about her.
She tilted her head to the side, and then she smiled ever so slightly. "You're an elf." She whispered.
"Aye."
"You're like me."
He watched her continue to stare at him, she looked at him as if she'd found a dear friend. Her gaze was fatigued, but she looked up at him with seeming affection.
"Did you help me?" She asked.
He shook his head, no.
"Oh." She looked down, then around the room as voices grew louder. "Where am I?"
"The house of a king. Specifically, the King of Edinburgh." He replied. "Can you stand?"
She slowly nodded, clinging with small fists to his shirt as he gently lowered her to the ground. Her bare feet contacting the rug they all stood on.
"Don't!"
Gaalin turned his head to the maid who screeched, surprised at her outburst.
"Don't put it down! It's filthy, feet covered in mud and pig shit and who knows what else!" She continued.
Gaalin rolled his eyes, bending over and picking the young girl back up. She glanced back up at him worriedly, asking him: "Am I safe here?"
"I don't know."
She lowered her head, and he was able to see her visibly tremble. He squeezed her gently, "I'm sorry, I meant... Yes, you're safe. While I am beside you, I will protect you.
"You don't know me."
He smiled, "I don't need to know you to want to protect you child."
She relaxed.
Gaalin continued to observe the quarrel between the maids and the guards, waiting for them to at least acknowledge that there was a cold, abused child in his arms. Although he knew this would never occur, simply because she was an elf. Even though she was not a dark-skinned elf like he was, one considered to be pure evil: but she was an elf nonetheless.
Suddenly the armed man drew his blade and took great strides towards the guards, muttering something under his breath while the old woman walked back towards him. She looked annoyed still, and simply said, "Follow me."
He did, carrying the nervous child down a strange corridor and into a small room. One furnished simply with a wooden post bed and a large tub that several maids were beginning to fill with water.
The old maid spoke to him, "That child needs to be bathed, it is filthy, smelly and distasteful. Once washed, it will be presented to the king. If it is indeed a slayer, it may survive." The words she said were cold, distant.
Gaalin looked down at the small child, she was already of fair skin but she paled further at the hags words. Once again, he set her down. She stood beside him, leaning into his abdomen.
"Leave the child here," the woman continued. "These maids will cleanse her. You be on your way."
Gaalin stepped backwards from the girl, watching as her contact with him broke and her eyes widened. He turned towards the doorway as two maids approached her, seizing her wrists. They both possessed dark expressions, displeased with their tasks that they made audible.
"I can't believe we have to wash this."
The other chuckled, "Just hold still and we'll make this as quick as possible, we don't like this anymore than you do."
Gaalin reached the doorway, hearing the two women grunt as they struggled to tear the rags from the girls body, while she resisted. Muttering insults to the elven race underneath their breath.
"Just hold still!" A maid said in frustration.
The girl yelped as Gaalin was shutting the door behind himself, and he heard all three women gasp 'Oh my.'
He turned as the door was almost closed, his eyes peering through the opening where he saw the horror of what man can do. She stood nude between the maids and old women, her thin arms covering her delicate areas. Yet no matter how much she covered herself, she couldn't hide the malnutrition. The years of neglect, abuse, torture. The hatred that man had for their kind. Their eyes met, and pleadingly she mouthed the words to him that broke him. 'Don't go. Please.'
He pushed the door back open, stomping past the women and the girl who was fighting back tears. He snatched the weathered blanket from the bed, and just as quickly wrapped her within it.
"Get out.' He hissed.
The old woman hugged, "This is most improper-"
"Get out!"