The walk to the Bar

"If I tell you, will you keep It a secret?" The deputy asked Grace as he moved towards the door.

"That is a rather odd question, don't you think?" Grace replied, opening the door to the Sheriff's office.

"And you are answering a question with a question. Is that not odd?" The deputy responded, stepping out of the now open doorway and into the freezing night.

"Point taken," Grace responded, closing the door behind them. "And just who would I tell? My parents? Both are now dead, as is my little brother and sister. My boss at the bar? Most of the time, he is trying to keep the bar ticking over and not trying to be friends with his Barmaids." Grace looked at the deputy. "So yes, I will keep your secret."

"Thank goodness, I was worried." The deputy breathed a sigh of relief.

"And why is that?" Grace enquired as they started walking.

"Not sure. Maybe it was the sarcasm, the fact that people can talk especially between friends."

"If I have friends, that is news to me. So, your name Sir?"

"Falael Wynfir." The deputy stated, looking at the ground.

"Falael Wynfir. Hmmm, that isn't a common name, especially among humans." Grace mused, glancing over at her walking companion.

"It's not a human name." Falael continued to look at the ground. "And I don't care to speak about its origin. It is a sore spot for me, so if it is okay, I would like to change the conversation."

"Okay then, what are your immediate thoughts on who killed my family?" Grace asked, the snow coming up to her ankle as she and Falael trudged on.

"Are you ready to open up that jar of worms so fast?" Falael looked up with an expression of both surprise and alarm.

Grace let out a sigh. "You don't want to talk about yourself, so why not start on the murder of my family?" Grace spun to look at Falael in the moonlight. "Saves us from an awkward conversation."

The moonlight, Falael perceived, made Grace the most beautiful creature in the universe. More beautiful than his late sister Neia, the most beautiful woman in all of Asharia, he thought.

"Recrosie to Falael!" Grace had noticed that Falael had drifted off in thought, seemingly while staring at her. He had become distracted. Falael forced himself to look away from Grace's ocean blue eyes and pale features.

"Sorry, I guess I was just amazed at how strong you appear to be. Especially so soon after such a tragedy." Falael managed to spurt out while sounding composed. The thought of Neia had dredged up memories that Falael had thought that he had buried along with his family.

"I am the kind of person who will never be okay of the perpetrator still lives and breathes, without any punishment." Grace turned back to the road. "If we don't keep walking, the Tavern will be closed by the time we get there." Grace led the deputy round the voiceless streets, pausing only when they got to that cottage with the red door and snow-covered roof.

"Is that where your family are?" Falael asked, noticing the profound grief on Grace's features.

"Unfortunately, yes." Grace's voice started to crack as if walking by that house as going to be the death of her. Falael gently put his hand on her shoulders, whether it was to comfort her or try to get her moving on to the bar he didn't know. Eventually, Grace relented and moved along towards the bar.

The lights in the Thundering Barrel Bar were dim, but not out. As the pair approached the front steps, the sound of loud chanting and folk music permeated the air around them. Reaching the front door, the smell of ale was so pungent that it would have knocked out a small child.

Falael, being the perfect gentleman that he is always trying to be, reached for and held open the door, allowing Grace to enter the bar. Upon entering the bar, the sound of cups slamming and drunken yelling was almost headache-inducing. Being that Grace was a barmaid, she was able to withstand the noise better than Falael. He looked as if he was about to vomit, if not from the sound then from the smell.

"You get used to it." Grace encouraged Falael, walking up to the bar.

"Grace? What are you doing here? Your shift ended hours ago. Are ye 'right lass?" A large, burly man with dark hair and a short, black beard appeared behind the bar.

"I can't stay at home tonight Tobin, my mother and siblings are lying dead on the kitchen floor. Is there are room available for me to stay in?" Grace explained, hoping against all hope that there was a room available.

"Oh, sorry to hear that. We have one room available, but it only has a single bed. Is that okay lass?" Tobin asked, a worried expression dancing across his face.

"Yes, that is fine, thank you. Also, may I please take tomorrow off? The funerals aren't going to plan themselves." Grace asked, knowing that planning a funeral befitting of the social status that her mother enjoyed.

"Of course," Tobin responded. "Take as much time as you need. And don't worry about the bill for the room. It's on the house." Grace managed to crack a small smile in thanks. "Room two." Tobin handed Grace the key.

"Thank you, Tobin. Thank you for looking after me."

"No problem. Hey lad, ye 'right?" Tobin asked Falael, who had turned a rather unfortunate shade of green.

"Quite alright, thank you. Just not used to the smells and sounds of being in a tavern." Falael responded, breathing deep and fighting hard to keep his composure.

Grace took the key that Tobin handed her and headed up the stairs that led to the sleeping quarters, Falael following closely behind. The wooden stairs creaked under the weight of both of them. Grace tripped over her skirts at least once. Eventually, though, they made it up to the top of the stairs.

"Thank you for accompanying me Falael," Grace said, finding her room.

"That is quite alright, Grace. After all, looking after people is my job," Falael replied.

Grace found her room and unlocked it.

"I guess that this is where we say goodbye," Grace mused aloud, turning around. In the light of the tavern, she could see the man who had been her walking companion. Only, now she realised that he was more than a man, but she couldn't pin down why. His long, dark hair had a glossy shine that most men didn't have, and Grace noticed two little points peeking out of the strands of hair. Were they his ears? The sight slightly unnerved Grace, but she didn't know why. After all, there weren't other races in Penrith, were there? Didn't all the Elves live in the big cities like Everhelm and Oakenspell?

"Would you like me to leave, or stay?" Falael asked.

*****Authors Note******

So, chapter two is out! I am very pleased that it is finally ready, and cannot wait for you to read chapter three!

Abi