Mouse tells a few secrets

“Won’t you have a seat?” Gwynn asked like a lady, and then like a girl she blurted, “I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Oh, Gwynn,” Mouse sighed as she sat.

“My father won’t let me go see her, and he will hardly tell me anything at all. I’m so glad you came!”

“I came because your father asked me to. You are worrying him with your questions, honey.”

“But I’m only worried about my friend.”

“I know, Gwynn, but you’re a little young to be having those sorts of worries.”

Gwynn tugged a wrinkle out of her skirt. “I’m a young woman, too,” she mumbled.

“More young than woman, honey,” Mouse said gently. “I don’t think you’re able to understand yet what Cat’s been through. Though I don’t know who would be.”

“I’m trying to imagine.”

“I know, Gwynn, and that’s what has your father worried. He doesn’t like to think that you even know such things are possible, and meanwhile you’re up here imagining yourself in Cat’s place. And it makes him sick, because he can’t protect you from what’s in your head.”

Gwynn could not tug the wrinkles out of her little chin, but she was learning how to hold back tears.

“I’m not here to scold you, honey. I’m here to talk. Young woman to young woman. And perhaps if you know, you won’t wonder so much.”

Gwynn’s little chin was lifted. “That’s what I think. So tell me: first, how is Cat?”

“Well, yesterday she stayed in bed all day, but today she got up and came down for dinner with us.”

“Poor dear…”

“She doesn’t remember the… much of anything. But she has nightmares when she tries to sleep. You have to understand, honey, that she’ll probably never be quite the same. She was never afraid of anything—which was a little foolish, though it was one of her charms, I’m certain. But now she will be afraid.”

“But perhaps if she has her…”

“Her what?”

Gwynn had meant to speak of “her elf”, but she had already observed that it upset her father whenever she mentioned him.

“Do you mean the elf?”

Gwynn smiled sheepishly.

Mouse sighed. “I know, your father wanted me to talk to you about that.”

“Did he truly cut their hands?”

Gwynn knew better than to say that it was “so romantic”, but she couldn’t help thinking that it was a story worthy of a fairy tale—if there had been less actual violence done against the fair lady, of course. Indeed, she had already imagined herself in eerily similar circumstances, saved from certain death by the noble sacrifice of an elf—a blond elf with remarkable blue eyes—who was then bound to her forevermore.

“Vash said he put some of his own blood into her that way, to keep her alive.”

Gwynn shivered with horror and delight. “So are they bound together now?”

Mouse frowned sadly. “Vash says they are.”

“But don’t they love each other?”

“I don’t know about that, honey. We don’t know why he did what he did. And as for Cat…”

“I’m certain she does! She simply won’t admit it.”

“You understand, she’s a bit frightened of elves now.”

“But not her elf!”

“She’s afraid of men and elves both. I told you, she might never be the same. She didn’t fear them enough before, and now she might fear them too much. But I suppose it’s too early to say,” she sighed.

“How I wish we knew what happened to him!” Gwynn cried.

Mouse leaned forward in her chair. “Well, don’t tell anyone, Gwynn… you can keep a secret, can’t you?”

“Of course!”

“Well, later that night, Wyn sneaked out alone and went back to where they had left the elf. And he was gone.”

“So he didn’t die!” Gwynn gasped.

“Not there, at least.”

“Oh, I knew it!” Gwynn sighed happily. “He will get better, and he will come back to her soon. And they will be forced to admit they love each other then.”

“I don’t know about that, Gwynn. That is just the sort of idea I am here to discourage. Perhaps she will never want to see him, or perhaps he will never want to see her.”

“But if they are bound together…”

“We don’t know anything about that, Gwynn. And besides, he will have to get past Sir Egelric first.”

“What is the matter with him?” Gwynn cried. “She’s not even his daughter.”

“I know, but listen.” Mouse leaned forward again and looked around as if to ensure herself that no one was listening—not that anyone could be hiding in Gwynn’s little bedchamber. “It’s another secret.”

Gwynn bounced in excitement. “Tell me!” she squeaked.

“Well, you know Sir Egelric can’t stand the blind elf to be mentioned, even though he saved Wyn’s life and Cat’s too. Even if he led Cat astray.”

“Which I am certain he did not!” Gwynn huffed. “I am certain he is a very honorable elf.”

“I don’t know, but that is neither here nor there. Listen: Wyn is positive he recognizes him, even though he can’t remember. And as far as we can tell, he has only met three elves in his life: Vash, and August, and Kiv. And Kiv was tall and blond, wasn’t he?”

“But he wasn’t blind!” Gwynn gasped. “And he’s dead, too,” she pouted. “Vash told me.”

“Oh, how I wish you had seen him,” Mouse sighed and fell back into her chair. “You might recognize him if he is Kiv.”

“He is not Kiv.”

“But Kiv was rude both times when he met Sir Egelric, so Wyn thought perhaps…”

“The only one being rude here is Egelric! He’s angry at the blind elf for no reason, even though he saved Wyn and Cat. And even though he is not Kiv.”

“Well, if you’re certain…”

“I am certain. Kiv is dead. I think he gave his life to save his friend Vash.”

“This elf gave his blood to save his friend Cat,” Mouse shrugged.

“That’s not the same. And it’s not the same elf.”

Mouse threw up her hands in surrender. “If you say so!”

“I say so,” Gwynn sniffed.

She did not wish Kiv harm—on the contrary—but she could never bear it if she were to learn that Kiv had lived only to be married to Cat—and Gwynn herself to be stuck with the intolerable, inexplicably rude Sir Egelric.